In a world ruled by fear, survival comes with a price.
When her brother's attempt to overthrow the Saviors fails, Tessa finds herself under Negan's watchful eye-protected, controlled, and dangerously close to the man she should hate. As violence, po...
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The moment Tessa stepped inside the walls, Alexandria felt wrong. Too quiet. Too careful. Grief hung in the air so thick she could feel it on her skin.
"Tessa?"
Rick's voice cracked. She turned, and he stared at her like she was something impossible. His eyes watered instantly, the kind of relief that comes only from mourning someone and being wrong.
"You..." His breath hitched. "You're alive."
She couldn't meet his gaze. "I made it out."
Rick reached her, hands trembling as they cupped her shoulders. Up close, he was a wreck—exhausted, hollow, stretched thin.
"I saw the walkers take you. I saw you fall," he rasped. "I thought you were gone."
She forced her voice steady. "I escaped. Got lost in the woods."
Rick stared at her. Not at her answer—at her. At her eyes. Her hesitation. The way she swallowed like something tasted wrong. He knew something was off.
Then he stepped closer.
Rick stared at her, searching her face for more.
He didn't see the truth behind her eyes—Negan grabbing her jacket, Negan saving her twice, Negan's voice still echoing in her skull—but he saw what she looked like now: exhausted, shaking, blood on her jacket. The girl he thought he'd lost.
"Tessa..."
He pulled her into him so suddenly she didn't see it coming. Her face pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around her like someone who hadn't breathed in days. She felt the tension in him—weeks of stress collapsing into the relief of having her back.
She stood frozen at first. Then slowly, carefully, she let herself lean into it. Just for a second. Just long enough to feel like she was actually home. Just long enough to feel guilty for thinking about someone else.
When Rick finally let her go, his hands still gripped her arms, steadying her. Then his fingers lifted, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face.
She flinched—not from pain, but from surprise. She wasn't ready for tenderness. She wasn't ready for kindness from him. Rick noticed that too. His eyes narrowed slightly, troubled by how she reacted to his touch.
He opened his mouth to ask something—something real, something heavy—when Carl appeared at the porch steps.
"Tessa?"
Carl's voice cracked like a dam breaking. His eyes filled with tears instantly.
"You're alive," he whispered. "We thought... Dad said you didn't make it."
Tessa's stomach twisted. "I'm here."
Carl hugged her tight and quick, shaking. When he stepped back, he wiped his eyes fast, embarrassed. He didn't notice her watching him, but Rick did. Rick watched everything. And for a split moment, guilt stabbed her. Not because of Carl.
But because Negan's voice pushed in again—
"Don't die out there."
—unwanted, unwelcome, impossible to fully shake.
She shoved it down hard. They walked inside. The warmth was suffocating. Tessa stumbled slightly and Rick grabbed her elbow.
"You alright?" he murmured.
"I'm fine."
"You sure about that?" Rick's eyes scanned her face—not the cuts or bruises, but the things she wasn't saying. Her tight jaw. Her averted eyes. Her shaking fingers.
She hated that he could read her so easily.
"You didn't look at me just now," he said quietly.
"What?"
He spoke softer, but sharper. "You do that when you lie."
Her breath caught.
"Rick—"
"I ain't pushin' you," he said gently. "But I know you. Something happened out there."
Images of Negan flickered behind her eyes so vividly she almost stepped back. She clenched her jaw to force them away.
"I'm overwhelmed," she said. "That's all."
Rick didn't believe her. His eyes softened—but with worry, not acceptance.
"Go get cleaned up. Take your time."
She slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. The second she was alone, her breath shook uncontrollably. The hot water stung her cuts. It filled the room with steam. But it couldn't drown out Negan's voice.
"Don't die out there."
Her stomach twisted painfully. She pressed her forehead to the tile. Rick. Carl. Alexandria.
And him.
She hated that she was lying. She hated that her mind kept dragging Negan back to her. She hated that she couldn't forget the way he'd looked at her. She hated that she'd left a part of herself behind with him.
She forced the water off abruptly. When she opened the bathroom door, Rick was in the hallway again. Watching. Waiting. Seeing too much.
And the second she tried to meet his eyes, she looked down.
Rick exhaled slowly. "There it is again."
"What?"
"You can't look at me," he said. "Not even for a second." He stepped closer, voice steady and calm. "You came home different, Tessa. Something happened out there. Something you ain't sayin'."
Her heart hammered painfully. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She couldn't look at him. Couldn't tell him. Couldn't stop thinking of Negan's voice echoing inside her head like a secret branding her from the inside out.
"You don't lie to me," Rick murmured. "Not like this."
Before she could respond, Carl came down the stairs slowly, gripping the railing. He winced slightly, but neither of them saw it as more than exhaustion from the night. Rick turned toward Carl automatically. Concern etched into his features—but nothing beyond that.
Tessa stayed frozen.
Rick glanced back at her—and saw her hesitating again.
"You two alright?" he asked.
Carl nodded too fast. Tessa didn't speak.
Rick's eyes moved between them—sharp, slow, searching. Not angry. Not confrontational.
Just watching her lie. Watching her crack. Watching something he couldn't name eat her alive from the inside. Coming home wasn't safety.
It was pressure. It was scrutiny. It was Rick tracking every secret she tried to bury.
She stood dripping water onto the floor, guilt twisting in her chest, Negan's voice still echoing faintly somewhere she couldn't shut off.
Rick said nothing else.
But the silence was louder than anything he could've said.
He knew.
Not the truth. Not Negan. Not what really happened.
