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I am so excited to announce we have reached 25,000 reads!

I am blown away. This story started as a small AU project some Negan fans asked me to write after reading Jo's book Last One Standing. I never expected this story to grow so large but like with so many stories the characters seemed to take charge and their story took off.

Thank you to everyone who continues to support Negan and Jo's story. I appreciate every vote and enjoy reading every comment. Your support keeps me writing!

Happy Reading!

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Negan

A fever wasn't something to fuck around with and I sure as shit wasn't going to let it go with Jo. I led the way back to my room. If I hadn't already know something was wrong, her sedately following after me would have been a dead give away. Jo never quietly followed me anywhere. She was moving slow too, like it took a lot of effort to move her limbs and her movements were jerky, not the fluidity she normally had.

We paused outside the door and I stepped up and held it open for her. She made no move to go inside. "Jo?" I said her name and she blinked up at me in confusion. She looked around us as though she were suddenly surprised to find us there. I put a hand on her low back and guided her into the room. "Come on sweetheart," I helped her lay down on the couch. Without fighting me she curled up on her side, pillowing her head with her hand. I picked up the blanket from the back of my chair and dragged it over her. Her eyes immediately drifted closed.

I strode to the door and jerked it open. "Get the Doc," I ordered whoever was on guard duty. I didn't bother to look. It didn't matter. "Right goddamn now!" I snarled when I didn't hear them moving fast enough. I whipped back around and returned to Jo's side. I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn't bother looking. I knelt down beside the couch and rested my hand on Jo's head. She was burning with fever. Sweat droplets were forming at her hairline. She nuzzled into my palm but didn't open her eyes. "How you doing?" I asked in a low voice.

She curled closer to me like she was still cold but she didn't respond. "Jo," I said her name more firmly. She couldn't have fallen asleep that fast.

She grumbled in the back of her throat and blinked sleepily up at me. "Negan?" she asked in confusion. She looked around us completely disorientated. She didn't seem to remember coming into my room. I tightened my jaw. The damn Doctor better get his ass back here pronto if he knew what was good for him.

I sat on the floor beside the couch and waited for the Doctor. It couldn't have been more than half an hour, but it felt like five years passed before she stirred again. "Negan?" she asked, her voice sounded small and weak. She coughed once and curled in on herself. She was shivering.

"Yeah sweetheart, I'm still here," I told her reassuringly. I tucked the blanket tighter around her.

She made another noise in the back of her throat, but it changed into a cough. I pulled back so I didn't catch it straight in the face. The cough was worse than before. It wracked her whole body and seemed to go on forever. When she was finally done she was gasping for breath and trembling. Her eyes drifted closed.

Shit.

"Where the hell is the doc?" I snarled loudly over my shoulder. Fat Joey was standing behind me looking like he was about ready to piss his pants. He glanced fearfully towards the door. He opened his mouth to respond but Doctor Carson stepped through the door just then with Harry trailing behind him.

"Right here," Carson replied tightly. He walked into the room, a bag in hand. He frowned down at Jo. "I just saw her," he muttered half under his breath.

"Two hours ago," I supplied, my voice a low growl. "Yeah, no shit. What the hell took you so long to get up here?" my words were angry but I stepped aside to give Carson room to work.

Carson took my place beside the couch. He was already wearing gloves. He reached out and took her temp with one of those thermometers that just have to touch the forehead. Jo tried to turn away from his touch. "Jo," he said her name loudly. "It's Doctor Carson I have to examine you," he paused, waiting for her to respond somehow.

Even with her barely conscious he was scared shitless of her. On a normal day that would have reassured me. People being scared of her kept her safe. But right now it was causing problems.

"Get on with it Doc," I growled.

Doctor Carson glanced sideways towards me and pressed his lips together in a grim line. He reached into his little bag and pulled out a small pen light. He forced Jo's eyes open and shone the light in them. Her eyes snapped open and she recoiled from him. One of her hands going up to defend herself.

I caught her wrist and guided it back down easily. She was so weak it scared me. "Jo," I said her name softly and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You gotta let the Doc take a look at you."

She swallowed thickly and coughed, shaking her head. "I just need to get some sleep."

"No, you need to let the Doc make sure you're okay," I spoke quietly but firmly, leaving no room for her to argue. Now wasn't the time for her to suddenly decide to have an opinion.

She coughed into her arm again and nodded weakly. She lay back down but there was still a tension to her body that hadn't been there before. She reached out and laced her fingers with mine. I squeezed her hand reassuringly. It was rare for Jo to want comfort when other people were near by. Either that or she didn't know anyone else was here. Both were concerning. But the gist of it was she was uncomfortable with the Doc. I cast a suspicious look at him as he moved towards her. If I found out there was any reason for that other than her dislike of being touched I was going to make Carson wish he was dead...as soon as he finished working out what was going on with this mystery illness.

He checked her eyes, her throat and listened to her lungs and heartbeat. She endured it, but even weakened I could feel the tension radiating off of her as she forced herself to hold still through more of his poking and prodding.

"Get some rest," Carson told her and he straightened. Jo nodded weakly before she lay back and closed her eyes. Her hand still gripped mine. Carson tucked his tools back in his bag and looked to me. "I have three other people in my office with these same symptoms."

"Shit," I muttered, remembering all those people who had died in Matt's community. Only ten survivors out of fifty. "This is what wiped out Mike's people," I told Carson.

Carson turned back to me, his face a stoic mask. "I need to speak with the survivors. Any idea of what we are dealing with will help me figure out how to treat it. We have to get anyone presenting symptoms into quarantine immediately. Anything they touched, came into contacted with, even breathed on needs to be incinerated."

I nodded along with his plan. He was the expert here.

Carson continued. "We can set up a quarantine ward in the boiler room. It would be good to have easy access to the incinerator and it's close to my office. We need to get cots set up and move everyone now." His eyes dropped to Jo and then he looked at me meaningfully.

"She stays here, no one in or out," I said, refusing to put Jo in with a bunch of other sick people.

Carson exhaled a small sigh. "There can be no exceptions until I figure out what this is," he said firmly. "I can't be running back and forth from the boiler room all the way up here every time one of your guards decides her cough has gotten worse."

I stared at him, prepared to fight about it. I didn't want Jo anywhere near those other assholes. I opened my mouth to reply but Simon's voice cut me off.

"Boss!" Simon's voice echoed as he called for me from the hallway. I turned to see him appear in the door. "We got a problem," he said, he was breathing heavily like he had run the whole way here. It took some serious shit to get Simon to hustle.

"I'm-" I started to say, but the look on Simon's face told me it was urgent. I climbed to my feet and turned to Fat Joey. "You get everything ready that the Doc needs. Grab as many men as you need."

Fat Joey nodded and turned immediately to Carson, waiting for orders.

I turned to Harry. "Get Dixon. He needs to know what's happening with his niece," I knew they weren't related, but it wasn't something I was making common knowledge. As far as I was concerned Dixon had earned his place here and people feared and respected him enough it was an added layer of protection for Jo.

Harry nodded and hustled out the door. I turned to the Doc. "Do what you have to," I said firmly. "Whatever you need." Doc Carson nodded grimly as he stared down at Jo. "She survives," I said, my voice firm.

Carson frowned up at me, blinking in confusion. "I'll do what I can for everyone," he agreed.

"No," I said shaking my head. "You aren't understanding me. If she doesn't make it," I told him in a soft, conversational tone. "You might as well throw yourself straight into the incinerator because I promise you, burning alive will be better than what I do to you," I took an aggressive step towards him. "You understand me?" I clarified with a jovial smile.

Carson swallowed fearfully and nodded too many times. "I understand," he said, looking for the first time in a long while appropriately frightened of me. Fear could be productive as shit.

I grabbed my leather jacket off the bed. Jo's slid off the bed onto the floor and it was like getting stabbed in the chest. She had put her's with mine. It made something dark and protective tighten in my chest and I had to look away as I shrugged my jacket on. Something that small shouldn't mean shit. My emotions were getting the best of me. I couldn't let that happen. I bent down and picked hers up, laying it back in it's place at the foot of my bed.

"Negan," Simon's voice was tight with tension. I scooped up Lucille and turned back to Carson and Fat Joey. I pointed Lucille at the pair of them. "Take care of her," I ordered severely.

They both nodded and I followed Simon out the door. "Whatever the shit is going on it better be goddamn important Simon."

"It is," Simon said and started to jog. I followed behind him, down a flight of stairs into the soldier's rooms. There was a crowd in the hallway.

"What in the shit are all you assholes doing just standing around?" I hollered. They turned and looked at me and dropped to their knees. When I could see past them I realized they were all standing outside the door to the lounge. I walked towards it. There was a small window in the door and when I was right outside of it a biter slammed against the glass, then another. I swore. Both biters had blood dripping from their eyes, nose and mouth.

"How many?" I growled to Simon.

Simon pressed his mouth in a grim line. "There's three in there. Two from illness. The other from being bitten. We've found three more in their rooms."

I nodded. "Take care of that shit," I ordered and the men stood almost as one heading towards the doors. "Whoever goes in there cover your mouth and hands. Don't touch anything and leave your gloves in the room when you're done. No one else goes in," I turned to Simon. "Get the Doc down here. He needs to take a look at this."

Simon nodded and trotted away.

"The rest of us are going to clear all the other rooms. Anyone so much as sneezes, you head down to the boiler room. Doc Carson has set up a ward for sick people. This isn't something to fuck around with. If I find out you are sick and you knew it and didn't head down to the ward I will kill you myself. Clear?"

The men nodded and we set to work. Having something to do helped. Kept me moving, kept me from thinking too much. But I couldn't get Matt's compound out of my head. Ten out of Fifty survived Matt's. Twenty percent. Those weren't good odds. Matt's son was strong as shit, in his early twenties and healthy as a goddamn ox and this disease had killed him.

It was almost forty-five minutes later Doc Carson arrived. He was wearing new gloves and a surgical mask. He headed straight into the lounge nodding once to me. I trailed behind him, standing over his shoulder as he inspected the dead biter. He moved to the other one with blood on it's face. After about ten minutes he straightened. He pulled off his gloves and dropped them and his mask on the body before he motioned for us all to step out into the hall.

"Seal that room," he ordered and Simon pulled the door closed behind us, locking it with the keys clipped to his belt. Carson turned back to me. His eyes were tired and he looked worried. "Pleurisy aspiration," he said briskly.

"What the hell's that?" Simon asked voicing my question before I had a chance to open my mouth.

"They choked to death on their own blood," Carson reported. "That's what caused the trails of blood down their faces."

I pressed my lips together grimly. This didn't sound like any disease I knew of.

"It's caused by the build up of internal lung pressure." When Simon continued to look confused the Doc pressed on. "Like if you shake a can of soda and pop the top. Only imagine your eyes, ears nose and throat are the top."

Simon paled and I went cold as my thoughts went to Jo, laying down in the boiler room, waiting for her lungs to fill. I tightened my jaw. I needed to get a hold of myself. I had a whole community of people to take care of and think about. I couldn't be so focused on just her.

"So it comes from the biters?" Simon asked.

Carson shook his head. "Unlikely. Could be pneumococcal..." he drug off shrugging non-commitally. "But with how short the incubation period is I would assume it's likely an aggressive strain of influenza."

I stopped and blinked down at the doctor. "You're telling me, the flu did this?" I asked looking around in surprise.

"Seriously? How is that possible?" Simon asked in shock.

Carson picked up his bag, getting ready to head back to work. He leveled a superior glare at Simon. "The influenza of 1918 killed over 20 million."

"Yeah but that was-" Simon started to argue.

"Are we any more advanced now then we were then?" Carson challenged.

The answer of course was 'no', but Simon just blinked in confusion and wisely kept his mouth shut.

"How's-" I started to ask but Carson cut me off.

"She's fine," Carson's voice was tight with stress again. "Dixon is with her. She's sleeping. Now that I have seen this I have a few ideas of what we will need for treatment."

"Is there anything you can do to cure it?" Simon asked crossing his arms over his chest.

"You can't cure the flu. Your body has to fight the disease. People aren't dying from the disease," Carson told him witheringly. "It's the symptoms that kill them. Not everyone will necessarily present with the same symptoms. We will need antibiotics. We need to be able to bring down fever and reduce swelling. We need to control the symptoms long enough for their immune systems to fight back."

I nodded, made sense. "What have you got in the infirmary?" I asked.

Carson shook his head. "Not enough. I'll also need supplies for IV's so we can get fluid into people. We will need either a pharmacy or hospital or..." he frowned. "A vet hospital would have stuff too."

"You mean like dogs and stuff?" Simon asked pulling back and scowling.

Carson had reached the end of his patience with Simon and he kept his focus on me. "Any of those types of locations will have enough antibiotics to get us through. I need IV bags, tubing, saline. I have needles and syringes but more are always useful.

I nodded. "I'll get people out there asap," I turned to Simon. "Get four crews together. We've got runs to make. I'll lead one, you, and..." The truth was we were a little shy on people. We had just divided our strength by taking over the outpost. This was a shitty time to be short on people. "Gavin," I settled on.

"Just the three?" Simon asked.

I nodded. "All we can spare. Send someone off to warn the outpost too. They need to know what they're dealing with over there."

Simon nodded and snapped into action.

I looked back at Carson "I'll check with the people in the market. I've gotta let them know anyway."

"You don't want to start a panic," Carson advised cautiously.

I snorted. "My people don't panic Doc," I assured him, walking back towards the market.

"All people panic," Doctor Carson argued.

I snorted. "Not if I tell them not to," I hollered back over my shoulder as I strode away.

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Jo

I blinked awake. My head was ponding and the colors at the edges of my vision kept smearing and running together. It made my stomach roll. I started coughing then, and I couldn't stop. It forced it's way up my throat until my throat was raw and bleeding. I felt a warm hand touch my shoulder and roll me onto my side.

I tried to move, but it was like my body was too heavy. I tasted panic mixed with the blood in my mouth. I wanted to jerk upright, to escape but my body wouldn't respond, it couldn't respond, it was too weak. The feeling of helplessness roiled through my body and my already struggling lungs tried to fly into a full blown panic attack.

"Jo," a low voice rumbled in the dark. At first I thought of Negan. I blinked up at the hazy shape of a man sitting beside my bed. It wasn't Negan, it was Merle. I looked beyond him and saw the neat rows of cots filled with bodies. I had no idea if they were alive or dead.

"Please no," my voice didn't sound like me. It was small and terrified. I didn't know why I said it and soon I was drifting back away. I struggle to stay conscious. Part of me knew I needed to if I wanted to survive. But another part was just scared. The nightmares had finally caught up with me.

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Negan

For the record, they didn't panic. People sure as shit were on edge though. I kept to the facts. Told them the symptoms to watch out for and that we had a plan to handle it. I limited large gatherings and reassigned mess times. I hadn't run it by Carson yet, but keeping large groups from getting together seemed like a pretty damn solid plan to me.

When I stepped down off of the platform I glanced down at my watch, wondering if I would have time to check up on Jo before I left. And I was going. This wasn't a run I was going to trust with anyone else. I was well aware there wasn't anything I could do for her here. My medical knowledge was literally nil, but I could get out there and get the shit we needed to make her better.

Judy walked up to me. I tightened my jaw. I didn't have time for whatever bullshit was on her mind right now.

"I heard about what's happening," she said in a low voice.

"Yeah, so unless you got antibiotics hidden in any of those jackets of yours we got shit to do," I snarled at her, my voice edgier than normal.

Judy's jaw tightened and she briefly lowered her eyes submissively. "I know you have to leave to go find antibiotics. But, when I was a little girl my grandma would brew me a tea when I had a fever-" she was saying but I wasn't listening. Not really. I was tapping my foot waiting impatiently for these assholes to get their shit together. We needed to get out there and get the meds. Every minute we wasted Jo was another minute closer to- well, I felt every minute I wasn't doing something to fix this.

"It was yarrow," she was still goddamn talking.

I turned to look down at her and blinked. "What the shit are you talking about?" I snarled.

Judy took a small step back but didn't give up. "If you send someone with me. I'll go outside the fence and see if I can find it. It won't cure whatever is wrong with them, but if people really are dying in a day from this, it might reduce the fever long enough for them to last until you get back."

I tried to contain my look of surprise but it didn't work. "Regina!" I yelled spinning around.

Regina was at my side in a second. She shifted her weight nervously but she waited for my orders. "Take D. Judy here has some gardening to do outside the fence. You get her anything she needs. Understand?" I tried to keep my voice level but I was failing. Everyone around me knew how close to the edge I was. I tightened my grip on Lucille's handle.

Regina nodded, fear flickering in her eyes.

"Good, then take her and whatever the shit she's after to Doc Carson, you got it?"

Regina nodded again. Everyone was scurrying around me like I was going to attack any one of them at any moment. It was good. Fear kept people fast.

Simon approached but didn't say anything.

"How long?" I growled at him.

He cleared his throat. "Forty-five minutes," he said tightly knowing the answer was going to make me pissed as hell.

"I'll be at the gate in twenty, make sure everyone is ready to go," I hollered back over my shoulder and I stalked down to the boiler room. I had twenty minutes.

When I got down there I found her asleep on a cot in the corner. Carson had at least given her the illusion of privacy. Dixon was sitting in a chair next to her bed, a single lamp sat on a stool near the cot. Dixon's prosthetic covered arm rested on his lap and a cane was resting against the side of the cot.

"You look like hell man," I said in a low voice.

Dixon was scowling when he glanced at me over his shoulder. "Mileage catches up to everyone I guess," he muttered and turned his attention back to Jo.

I stared at her laying in the bed with an IV in her arm and all I could think about was watching my wife die. Watching my Lucille wither away to nothing day by day. I couldn't sit here and watch Jo die. "Has she woken up?" I asked.

"Just once," he said scratching at his five o'clock shadow. "She didn't make a whole lot of sense. Not sure how much she'll remember."

I nodded and shifted my weight. There was a part of me that wanted to get out of there as fast as I possibly could. She was so pale and her breathing rasped with every rise of her chest. She was dying. I forced myself to stay where I was. I still had time. "How's the leg?" I asked Dixon, jerking my chin towards it.

Dixon snorted. "Useless, won't hold no weight" he said shaking his head. "Sitting here is about as useful as I can manage. Sorry boss."

I just shook my head. He paid a price to save people. Even I wasn't a big enough asshole to begrudge him that. The fact that it was for two little girls we didn't know went even further. "Keep an eye on her," I said gruffly and I turned to leave. "And Dixon," I called to him.

Dixon craned his neck around to face me.

"Thanks," I said seriously.

He snorted and shook his head. "Ain't for you," he growled back.

I shook my head and walked away. Surly bastard.

I was twenty feet away when one of Carson's patients lunged at him. Carson stumbled back, fighting to get away from the new biter's snapping teeth. I pulled my knife and ran up behind the biter, sinking the blade into it's skull before Fat Joey or Harry even realized what was happening.

Carson looked up at me from the floor, panting.

"I think you lost one Doc," the words were light, but my tone was like granite. That could have been Jo he hadn't realized died. It made it difficult to breathe. 

Carson nodded, holding onto his throat as he fought to catch his breath.

"We can't lose you Doc," I looked up and jerked my chin to Harry. "You stay with the Doc at all times, you understand?" I asked. "Make sure no more of his patients try and eat him."

Harry nodded fearfully and Carson handed him a surgical mask and gloves.

"Might want to think about restraining them," Dixon called from behind us.

I turned to see he had managed to hobble his way halfway across the room. Even with only one hand and one good leg the man was still better than the two soldiers I had left in here. He would have reached Carson before either one of those bastards.

"What?" Carson asked, blinking in confusion.

"If they're going to start dropping and you don't want to end up with an All-You-Can-Eat biter buffet I suggest you tie them down."

"You want me to tie the sick people to the cots?" Carson asked in horror.

I rubbed at my jaw. My eyes traveled to where Jo was sleeping. It made absolute sense, but I also knew what it was going to do to her if she regained consciousness and was tied down.

"She's too far gone to know," Merle said gruffly like he could read my damn mind.

I nodded but his assessment of her condition had bile rising in my throat. "Do what you have to do Doc," I said and I walked out.

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Jo

It was the coughing that woke me. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I tried to move to alleviate some of the pressure but my body couldn't move. Not just because it was too weak like before. This was different. I was trapped. I snapped awake, adrenaline rushing through my battered system.

"Easy Barbie." The words came but they meant nothing. I tried shifting my arms but something pulled at my biceps, keeping me pinned on my back to the cot.

I was tied down. My breath hissed in and out of my torn throat and my mind went blank. All I could head was the pounding of my heart in my ears as I fought to get away.

"Jo!" the voice was louder now, closer. I had to open my eyes to see what the next threat was. I couldn't stay here, it wasn't safe. I wasn't safe. The light seared my eyes and made the pounding in my head unbearable.

"Goddamn it you're going to hurt yourself." Merle was standing over me and my mind tripped over itself as it tried to figure out if I was still back there. If it was too late. If I had failed. The nightmares that had trapped me were tangling with reality and I didn't know which way was up. "JO!"

Merle's bellow jerked me out of my darker thoughts. "Merle?" I gasped and I started coughing. The coughing hurt, which helped me focus.

"You're fine Barbie," his voice was gruff as he leaned closer to the cot so I could see his face. "You're safe," he promised me in a low voice.

I jerked against the bonds again. "If I'm safe why am I tied up?" I coughed again, my chest heaving as it fought to rise and fall. It felt like there were weights on me and my body wasn't strong enough. I felt truly vulnerable. It chilled me to the bone.

"You're in a quarantine ward," Merle explained, his voice rough.

"Quarantine?" I said the word but I wasn't connecting what it truly meant. I blinked stupidly at Merle for a few minutes before I realized what he meant. "You shouldn't be in here." I said firmly. I moved then, as though I could make him leave, but I was still tied down.

"Just cool your jets Barbie," Merle warned. "Carson needed a hand and all I got's one. Plus, I was already exposed. No sense risking anybody new."

"H-how long?" I managed to grit out.

Merle chewed on his lip thoughtfully. "Ya been in and out nearly a day."

I shook my head. It didn't make sense. I couldn't have lost that much time.

Merle nodded grimly. "They got everyone locked down. Everyone at the Satellite outpost too," he added and I knew it should mean something to me but my thoughts were too sluggish to keep up.

I blinked up at the lamp sitting near my cot. It's light glittered through something. I stared hard at it for a few moments before I realized it was an IV.

"What'd he do?" I asked.

Merle snorted. "Can't just be happy can ya?" He challenged but he didn't sound as frustrated as he should have. "Probably the Doc saved your life giving you whatever cocktail he's cooked up. We've certainly lost enough other people."

"Lost?" I shook my head not understanding. "Cocktail?" I asked and my head was pounding again. I couldn't focus on anything. Everything hurt. I sucked in a breath and started coughing once more.

"The doc doesn't know what will work exactly, so he's worked up something to keep you going."

I frowned. That didn't sound right. I turned my head without lifting it and was rewarded with a confusing sideways view of rows and rows of cots. The lights were dim and further away I could see Carson, wearing a surgical mask, bent over one of the beds.

Merle cleared his throat and I looked back towards him. "They're going down hill real fast Barbie."

"What about me?"

"You? Naw, I wouldn't worry your pretty little head about nothing. You're a fighter. Always have been."

Merle's voice was tight and even in the state I was I knew he was lying to me. My tired memories sifted through until Matt's compound came back to me. Matt died defending eight people from everyone else of his group who had turned.

"Everyone dies from it, don't they?" I asked in a low voice. Merle didn't respond. He just stared into my face. Merle and me, we didn't lie to one another.

"You shouldn't be here Merle," I told him again. This time my voice was calmer, my tone, more convincing. Merle was pragmatic. If I calmly explained he would see my reasoning and his survival instincts would kick in. I froze. "Why are you here Merle?" I asked in disbelief. Merle was the ultimate survivor. Sitting in a basement filled with people with a fatal disease didn't sound like him.

Merle scowled at me like it was the dumbest question he had ever heard. "Where else would I be?"

He held my gaze, his sky blue eyes dead serious. I snorted and shook my head, convinced I would die before I ever figured out Merle Dixon. I laid my head back down against the pillow and it stopped hurting so much. "How come you've always been so nice to me?" I asked in a sleepy voice. "You're always there for me."

"Just lucky I guess-" Merle started to say but he stopped himself and his face became very serious as he looked down at me. I literally saw the moment he dropped the facade and decided to answer my question. Merle and me, we didn't lie to one another.

"I was never there for my baby brother." He confessed. "Not like you are for your sister," he snorted humorlessly and shook his head. "You nearly died for her. Then lived in hell for months, just to keep her safe..." Merle swiped a hand across his face and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "When we were kids...things were bad. Our old man..." Merle shook his head. "He was a real piece of work. He would get to beating on me and Daryl...and one day I'd had enough and...I-I left. I got the hell out of there and I never looked back, and I left my baby brother behind," Merle snorted and shook his head in self disgust. "Then I did the same damn thing again. We was with this group and I got in a bind," Merle held up his prosthetic. "And I never went back to look for him. Just left...I always...I always assumed he was dead. Told myself that. Justified signing on with someone like The Governor because of that. Because if I was alone I could do those things and the only person I had to answer to was in the mirror..." Merle sighed and sat back, looking away.

Merle had never talked about his past with me. I had never asked and I wasn't going to push him now. He was silent long enough I thought maybe he was done. We weren't the type to open up like this. It convinced me more than anything else that I really must be dying.

Finally he swiped a hand over his eyes and looked back down at me where I lay on the cot. "Then in walked you two," he shook his head. "And you had fought with my brother. Stood by him. Watched his back, like I never did. Guess I'm paying a debt to a damn ghost," he snorted humorlessly and shook his head.

I stared at Merle. Not really sure what to say to him to make things better. "Do you really think Daryl's dead?" I asked in a half whisper.

Merle shrugged. "Baby Brother's a survivor, but that group he was with..." he shook his head sadly. "They weren't going to make it. They were a liability. Couldn't do the hard thing."

"Unlike Negan," I said forcing a wry smile.

Merle nodded but frowned. "Ya know Barbie...holding a place like this. Leading people like these...you have to do things. Things you can't always come back from..."

I turned my head on the pillow and stared at Merle in the dim light. "We've all done things we can't come back from," I told him earnestly. If I knew one truth in this world, it was that.

Merle nodded sagely. "Maybe," he allowed. "Or maybe we just gotta earn it back."

I watched the shadows play across his face. "Like you did, saving Kate and I."

Merle snorted and shook his head. "Naw. I told you, that was paying a debt. There's no redemption for Old Merle. No happy ending."

That didn't sit well with me and I scowled at him. "I think those girls you saved yesterday would beg to differ."

Merle got a little red around his ears and waved me off. "That was all Tommy."

He was lying, we both knew it. Tommy wouldn't have made a single move without a direct order from either Negan, Merle, or I. I laid back and stared up at the ceiling. Merle and I  sat in silence for a long while, each of us consumed with our thoughts. I had been running for so long, could this really be how it ends? Laying on a cot in some basement?

I coughed and the pain radiated through my chest. I sighed.   "All I've been through and it's going to be a damn cold that gets me," I closed my eyes as tears pricked them. It was strange to realize I was actually still afraid to die. It didn't seem possible after all I had been through.

Merle reached out then and covered my hand with his. "You're gonna beat this thing. You're gonna fight. Til ya think ya can't anymore. Then you're gonna keep going."

I coughed again. This wasn't something I could fight with my knives, this was something I had to be strong enough inside to beat. I wasn't sure I was up to it anymore. I didn't know if I had another fight in me. I was so tired.

"Here," Merle said, leaning towards the stool beside the bed. "Doc said ya gotta drink this."

He held a small cup of what smelled like herbal tea. Merle was surprisingly gentle as he helped me take small sips. It was sweet at first but left a bitter after taste. I grimaced but obediently drank the room temperature concoction.

Carson must have noticed I was awake because he appeared behind Merle. "How are we feeling Miss Dixon?" he asked walking over to the cot.

I lay my head back and coughed. Both men patiently waited for the coughing to subside. Merle set the cup on the stool and lifted a wet rag from a bowl of water and laid it over my forehead. Carson checked my eyes, throat and temperature quickly. His face blanched when he laid his icy stethoscope on my chest and I knew things were bad.

"Where's Negan?" I asked frowning as my thoughts flittered from one to another. I wondered if it was the fever or if it was a side effect from some of the drugs the doctor had given me.

"He's out on a run, getting meds," Carson responded moving the stethoscope over to the other side of my chest. His face got worse.

Not good.

I frowned and shook my head. "There's no place near by," I said, and I knew there wasn't. The run teams were pushing out over thirty miles already. To go for a big run there was no telling how far they would have to go.

Carson cleared his throat. "There's a medical school about fifty miles away," he said simply. "I believe he led the team that went there."

"Fifty miles?" I snapped and I fell into a coughing fit.

"Easy Barbie," Merle warned.

"Will he be back soon? Who went with him?" I gasped out. I could taste blood in my mouth. I had been out for almost a day. A lot could happen on the road in a day.

"He's fine Barbie, I promise you don't have to worry about-"

"Who?!" I snarled, this time it felt like the coughing went on for minutes. I couldn't catch my breath between coughs and when I started gagging Merle untied one arm and rolled me onto my side. I was heaving and shaking when the fit finally subsided.

"You need to rest," Carson said gravely and he reached into his lab coat and injected something straight into my IV.

"No- Mer," I started to say but the drugs hit me like a ton of bricks. I open my mouth to ask my question again but I can't remember what it was. I blinked up at the two men as my hazy mind struggled to remember. I drifted into unconsciousness.

It was only an hour later that the screaming started.

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