Straight Through the Heart

It had been so long since this all began and yet, when it counted, when the nights were long and the nights were cold, all Lucille longed for where her husband's arms. To be held close to his chest where she was safe. Negan would have been able to keep her safe from anything that came their way, she was so sure of it. He would have taken charge and done anything he deemed necessary to keep the two of them safe because that was just the type of guy he was. He was all about their little family and had even relented when she had begged and begged him to let her get a chihuahua. He'd rolled his eyes and laughed at her when she squealed in excitement.

Shaking her head at the thought, Lucille curled even tighter around herself. She didn't dare so much as blink, her eyes trained on a little patch of grass in the mud. Michonne was to her left, Rosita to the right. Someone was saying... something but she couldn't focus on the words. She couldn't focus on anything other than the way her heart was racing.

One of them was going to die tonight and there was no saying who it would be. Lucille was terrified, she didn't want to lose anyone else and yet it appeared that she had no choice at all. She hoped, above all, that it wouldn't be Maggie. She was pregnant and she had already lost so much that she hoped it wouldn't be Glenn either. For her own selfish reasons, she hoped that it wouldn't be the man on the other side of Michonne. Abraham reminded her of Negan, he was harsh and rough around the edges but he meant well.

"Let's meet the man.."

It seemed like there was a collective inhale as each person in the lineup prepared themselves as much as humanly possible for what was coming next. We had heard about Negan, a man in charge of the Saviors, but Lucille had never heard the name before and so she had no clue what was coming.

"Pissing our pants yet?"

The four words that made her stomach drop even deeper than it already had. Lucille swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and tried to bend forward further. No, no, no. That voice, she would know it anywhere and yet there was no way that it was her Negan. Not from all the stories she had heard of how cruel this man could be.

The man that had tormenting the group began to tell them about the bat that he swung around and then he let out a twisted sort of grin - told them her name and that admission was enough to send Lucille over the end. She hiccuped back a sob and Rosita, beside her, looked to her long time friend with a frown.

When Lucille and Negan had been separated, she had happened upon a group that Rosita was in. They had all been skeptical, hesitant to trust each other but through time, Lucille was treated as one of their own. Rosita and Lucille were quick to befriend each other, both resided in each other about the secrets that lurked in the dark, that kept them up at night.

Rosita jerked at the sound let out by Lucille and looked down with a raised eyebrow but didn't dare open her mouth to speak. Lucille could only offer the smallest of head shakes. What was there even to say? Lucille exhaled, trying to focus on her breathing because she could feel it getting out of control. Her chest was tightening and it was growing increasingly difficult to keep her composure. Pleaseno. Lucille couldn't bring herself to look up, even as Negan began the little chant. She tensed, stilling in her movements when he would move in front of her.

"If anyone moves..."

Lucille choked on a sob but didn't dare move, didn't dare so much as blink. The only reason she knew someone was being hit, on the opposite end of lineup, was because of the sound. It was squishing and it was violent and..Lucille shuddered and willed it to end. She couldn't do anything about it though, what was there to do?

Negan stopped and began to stroll back toward her, toward the right end of the lineup and Lucille could only shrink further into the mud. Maybe if she wished hard enough she could sink right down into it and maybe she would forget that she just listened to the sounds of her husband killing someone with a bat named after her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daryl lunging forward and let out a silent curse.

"Daryl, stop," Lucille finally hissed through gritted teeth, having to cut her sentence short because she was already breathless. What little oxygen she was managing to pull through her mouth wasn't enough to sustain her well enough to actually speak. "Please," she managed to croak, her eyes raising just enough so that she could lock her eyes on Daryl as he was shoved to the ground beside Negan.

"No more. Please."

Negan hadn’t always been a blood thirsty son of a bitch, but he had to be. It was for everyone else’s own good. After he had lost his wife, who he imagined had to have been dead by now, Negan made it his mission to find her. The weeks turned into months, and he watched those around him continue to do things he specifically said not to do. He was trying to help these pathetic fucks and what did they do in return? Get themselves killed and get more of his people killed. After hope had been lost on finding his wife, Negan focused on trying to survive—help his people survive. Sure his tactics could have been deemed slightly harsh, but whatever worked right?

So here he was, faced with the decision of punishing the group that was knelt around him. There was a part of him, shoved way far back in the back of his mind, that felt only slightly regretful about what he had to do. He had to do it didn’t he? Make them realize the path they were going down caused consequences? To keep them safe right? At least that is what he repeated to himself day after day. And he sure as shit believed it.

The first swing always released the endorphin's that caused the devious chuckle to escape from his throat. Punishment, his mind called out with every swing. They would soon realize that actions lead to consequences—good or bad. But at least they would figure out the good one’s right?

After the deed had been done, and he had slammed one of their men to the ground, his eyebrows furrowed as a voice called out. It sounded familiar, but the blood pumping through his veins was slightly clouding his hearing. He laughed, pointing his bat at the sound of the voice, “No more,” he taunted the girl. “No fucking more?” he said more harshly as he released Daryl’s collar. “Did I not say I would cut that shit right out?” He bellowed as he walked towards the girl. “Look at me,” he said as her head began to tilt up. It was then that his heart stopped and jumped right to his throat.

Lucille's chest was heavy, tight in the sense that it felt like no matter how deep she inhaled, that she was barely bringing in any oxygen. It felt like there was someone standing on her chest, like she couldn't dislodge them no matter how hard she tried and yet that was impossible because she was staring at the ground. There was no one standing between her and the ground, that was a silly concept. Wasn't it? She thought it was in the back of her mind but it was the only thing that remotely made sense to the feeling that was overwhelming her.

Her anxiety had always been in check before everything went down and even after because she had had Negan by her side. They were separated and it seemed like it was at that point that things started to go downhill. She kept it under control most of the time, sure, and Rosita had seen the downturns in her mood when her anxiety got to be too much. It was usually after close calls or after legitimately losing someone because it just reminded her of when she was separated from Negan. When she lost him, when he died. But he hadn't died - he was standing in front of her with a bat pointed toward her.

There was no place for any sort of anxiety in this world, Lucille knew that. She kept it well hidden away, she knew how to power through until she was alone. But the sound of Negan's voice brought her defences crashing and burning to the ground. Lucille swallowed against the dry feeling in her throat as she slowly lifted her head, willing herself to not lose it. Please.

"I heard," Lucille had to pause to drag a deep breath through her parted lips. "You. The first. Time!" Lucille snapped the last few words through her breaths, her eyes narrowing as she looked up to him. She could make out the outline of Negan, she could see the way the shock of who spoke washing over him - even if no one else could, she knew Negan better than she even knew herself.

"Don't. Please," Lucille struggled to find the right words to say and yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't. She was staring at her husband who was supposed to be dead - who had just killed one of her family. All because of something she had participated in. "We get it, papi. You don't have to... don't have to do this. Just stop... please."

To say that Negan was in disbelief was a severe understatement. He blinked, keeping silent for a moment. He was sure if he should scoop her up off the ground and lead her back to his home for safety…. Or if he should scold the ever living shit out of her for thinking she was allowed to talk to him that way. But, for a brief moment, a small smile spread across the mans lips when he reminded himself that Lucille didn’t know the man that know stood before her.

Sure, he was the same man… Somewhere deep down inside his soul that man was still there. He allowed himself to laugh at her, yet, it still came across mockingly—much like everything else he did. It had become a routine for him; that wasn’t his fault. He lowered his bat as he began to speak, “Ah, Lucy. But you see, there needs to be consequences? Haven’t you learned that yet, doll?”

Negan turned away from her, pointing the bat at Daryl before shaking his head and deciding against it. “For example, deciding to go out on a run by yourself will separate you from your husband for two fucking years.” He commented as he made his way back in front of her. “And then—“ he motioned with his bat around at her group, “That gets you to end up with these fucking losers who kill my people… And that makes me have to take one of yours.”

Negan grinned as he saw them finally start to look at him the way he needed them to. “The only way this doesn’t happen again is if you shit heads listen and learn.” He went over and crouched down in front of Lucy. “Jesus, princesa, it’s that simple. Don’t you agree?”

Lucille had been so sure that when she finally looked up to Negan that he would at least relent. He would pull away from the mocking of them, of torturing them but that laugh that sounded, it sent a chill running down her spine. Her lips parted as she watched him speak, her tears finally slipping down her cheeks. He was laughing and she could only choke on the air that was supposed to give her life, as she struggled to keep herself together. It wasn't very well at all but at least she wasn't blacking out. That was better than nothing, right?

The muscles in her legs screamed, twitching as she readied herself for what felt like something that she had no choice but to do. If Negan took one step closer to Daryl, she wondered if she could launch herself across the man before things went too far south. Could she even reach Daryl in time? She would not lose anyone else tonight, she was determined not to.

"Three," Lucille suddenly spoke after a mouthful of air. She was still staring as Negan began to approach her again. Digging her fingers into the mud in front of her, Lucille pushed herself a bit further away from him. She didn't want him anywhere near her, she didn't want him to touch her or speak to her or... no. It would be better if Negan just wasn't here she thought but she pushed the thought away the moment that it appeared.

"I killed three," Lucille whispered, not caring who did or didn't hear her. She drew in a deep breath and held it as she leaned back far enough that she could make eye contact with him. "What does. That mean. For me?" Each section was separated by a sharp inhale but she didn't wait long enough for it to hinder her progress because she didn't want him to cut her off.

"You kill me too?"

Negan’s chest burned with a sudden rage he didn’t necessarily know how to control. What was he supposed to do to her? Take trusty ol’ Lucille to Lucy’s head as well? He shook his head, his hand coming to his face to rub the beard around his everlasting grin. Negan licked his bottom lip as he crouched down to get to eye level with her.

“Well, baby.” He said, his voice low and sullen. “I’ve already settled the score,” he looked down to the end of his blood splattered bat. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, princesa.” He murmured as he reached out to stroke her hair gently. “I wont take anymore,”

Negan paused as he stood up, brushing the knees of his pants off. “Not yet at least,” he bellowed. “Because here’s the deal. You all work for me know, get it? Half your shit, mine. Anything you find—ding ding! You got it, half that shit is mine as well. It’s really, really simple to be quite honest. If you want to live, you’ll do what I say. If not,” he pointed his bat around at them once more, “We will be right back here. Got it?”

Negan thought for a moment, looking around at the group. “Guns, to the back of every head, now.” He ordered. He pointed over at Lucy, “Except here. She’s coming with me for a moment.”

Negan made his way back over to Lucille, reaching out to grab her by her bicep gently. “You and I need to have a little chat.”

Lucille flinched away from Negan's touch, clamping her eyes shut as he spoke. She wanted nothing more than to shove him away and demand that he leave her alone for the rest of their lives but there was a certain fear curled in her stomach, one that she couldn't ignore. One that made her kneel in front of Negan as if he wasn't her husband, as if he wasn't something other than a man that terrified her straight to her core.

The moment that Negan stood, Lucille dropped her gaze right back to the ground that now was imprinted with his boot print. When he turned, Lucille reached with a shaking hand and gave Rosita's hand a squeeze that was hurriedly returned. "I'm sorry," she whispered because she didn't have anything else that she felt she could even say.

Her eyes widened at Negan's next order, her head shooting up to catch sight of him. She looked from side to side, watching as people stepped forward to hold a gun to each of their heads. Lucille let out a choked sob, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. No. Negan wasn't going to do this. Her Negan would never do this, ever. But she was beginning to think that this Negan wasn't her Negan and that she didn't know him at all.

"Wha-" The word was cut off as Negan pulled her to her feet. Lucille glanced behind her as she followed after Negan, her stomach twisting into a knot as she stumbled over her own two feet. She managed to climb onto the RV and then she was rushing away from the door, as far from Negan as she could seemingly get. Her hands shook as she lowered herself onto the couch, feeling that all too familiar sense of looming danger hanging over her.

Lucille focused her attention on her hands and it was then that she caught sight of the ring that still lingered on her finger. "What happened to you?" She whispered, covering the ring with her right hand.

Negan’s heart broke silently as he saw his wife flinch away from his tough. Looks like we got some work to do here. As soon as they entered the RV she was all but scrambling to get away from him… Not even allowing her eyes to connect with his own. Part of it was pitiful to him—while the other part made him slightly angry. Wouldn’t she have been happy to see him? Sure the circumstances weren’t all that great and he had just hit a home-run over top of one of here people’s heads---but still this was his wife. He was her husband.

“Don’t act like that, sweetheart…” He cooed at her with a grin still on his face. “I’m still me, doll. What would you expect? If you don’t wanna die in this new world, some shit has to change, Lucy.”

Lucille wasn’t as sly as she thought she had been; Negan had saw the glint of the ring on her left hand. The familiar, yet now very strange feeling of his heart swelling brought an unusual heat to Negan’s face. It didn’t take long for Negan to become irritated at her unwillingness to look at him. “What is the matter with you?” He asked, sincerely yet harsh. “I’m still your husband, Lucy. Just shit has changed. I mean take a fucking look outside, it has changed hasn’t it?”

Lucille choked on a laugh as she shook her head. No, no you're not. but that wasn't something she was about to say to her husband. Not with the way irritation seemed to be rolling off of him in harsh, violent waves. She drew in a deep breath and held t, trying to search for some sort of way to keep calm. As Negan so eloquently said, things had changed. She wasn't so sure she could be honest with him. Not the way she had been.

"Yeah. I guess you're right. Things have changed, haven't they?" Lucille echoed as she raised her gaze to finally look at Negan. She honestly just wanted to cry. The man in front of her may have looked like her husband but he certainly didn't remind her of him.

"My husband wouldn't have bashed someone'/ skull in with a bat named after me," Lucille snapped suddenly. That same Latina anger flared in her chest and despite the knowledge it was a horrible idea, she couldn't keep it inside. Not with the way Negan was looking at her as if she was nothing more than a long lost possession he had just stumbled upon.

"You tell me what you want from me so we can get this over with because my people, they need to mourn because of you. No one else but you."

Negan a hand through his hair, looking at her. As he watched the woman in front of him emotionally crumble, his gaze began to soften ever so slightly. He longed for her touch… His mind thought back to the moments, just after they had been separated, where he lay away wherever he had camped for the night. His heart would ache, feeling as though it would drop from his chest at any given moment.

How would he ever be able to explain to her there was a reasoning behind all of his actions? There was always a reason. She must know that… Didn’t she? Hadn’t she experienced the life or death situations over the past years? Hadn’t she ever come to terms with the reactions that spurred from her very own actions? She had to have. There was no fucking way she hadn’t.

“Lucy,” his gruff voice came out, slightly softer than it had all evening. “It isn’t for nothing; don’t you understand? Wouldn’t that asshole—“ he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he struggled to remember their groups leader name, “Rick, wouldn’t Rick do the same for you? If another group came along and iced a bunch of you wouldn’t he want their heads on a fucking steak just like I do?”

He took a small step towards her, understanding that by her body language she wanted no part of him. But all he wanted to do was grab her roughly by the shoulders and press his lips to hers… And then show her just how much he had missed her. “I don’t just do it for shits and fucking giggles all the time, ya know. There’s a purpose. Always is.”

Lucille just barely relaxed when Negan corrected Rick's name and her shoulders' tension eased ever so slightly. Her stomach flipped and she gave a shrug as she looked down to her feet. "He would want revenge, sure. We've gotten our revenge on a few assholes," she paused, a light smirk appearing on her features when she thought of the Governor. God, how she hated that bastard - how he had manipulated them. "But we wouldn't do it like this. We wouldn't line the whole damn group up and try to play God. That's not Rick, he's just trying his fucking hardest to take care of us."

"Not all the time but some of the time, right?" Lucille replied, leaning back against the couch. She shrugged as she reached to run a hand through her hair. It was greasy and God, what she wouldn't give for a real shower. Not one of the half assed cold ones she took in Alexandria because she didn't want to use up such an important resource if it wasn't necessary.

"Rosita and Abraham, they kept me going. When we'd lose someone, no matter how insignificant they were to me, I'd get messed up. You want to know why?" Lucille began, her eyes focused on a speck of dirt near the wall of the other side of the RV. "The only thing I could think about was how I fucked up. How I went on a run and lost the only person I still had left. And how that I had fucked up again because someone was dead - I could have saved them if I had tried hard enough. Right?" Lucille was surprisingly calm as she spoke about her demons, her eyes snapping to lock onto Negan's.

Lucille's voice grew quiet and it grew thick with emotion, so thick that she had to take a moment before she could speak again. "Now that person I lost is standing in front of me and I don't even know if it's the same person anymore."

Negan couldn’t help but shake his head as he finally decided to slid into the seat across for her. He propped his elbows up on the table and clasped his hands together. He rested his chin on top of his fists as he looked long and hard at her. What was he supposed to say with that? Part of him had a small smile tugging at his lips. She was still that same fiery woman he had married years ago. That was one of the biggest things he had loved about her. She was passionate. She stood up for what was right. She called him out on his bullshit—much like she was doing at that time…

Negan thought he was doing what was right. At least, the only way he knew how to do things right. He had tried other tactics and nothing seemed to work just as well as the current one did. He shrugged his shoulder, bringing his bottom lip in and clamping it between his teeth. “Lucy, you can’t take everything at fucking face value…”

Negan sighed, closing his eyes for a fleeting moment as he hung his head. “I am just doing the same thing that all of you are—“ He was trying to keep his composure in front of her. He was trying to keep all of his sarcasm and vulgarity at bay. He was trying to show her that he was still a caring man. He just showed it in a different was these days. “I do what I have to do… and what happened her tonight… Well, I did what I saw fit. Wouldn’t you have done what you see fit?”

Negan removed his hands from the table, yet, reached back up again with one to grab her hand for a moment. “We can make this work again, princesa…You just have to trust me and give me a chance. You’ll see that it isn’t about all this bullshit. We have a system and it works… And I am offering your group the chance to be a part of all of this.”

"You literally bashed Aaron's head in with a fuckin' bat wrapped in barbed wire that you, oh so affectionately, named after me. Even after he was more than dead, you kept swinging. I don't know how else you want me to talk that, James," Lucille spoke through gritted teeth. She wanted so badly to lean into Negan's chest and just be but she didn't know how else to feel. While she hadn't actually watched Negan kill Aaron, she had heard the sounds and that was more than enough to cement what had happened in her mind.

Lucille shrugged as she played with her rings, twisting them around on her finger with her thumb. "I would have done what I thought right. I can't fight that but Jesus, Negan. I wouldn't have done that. I wouldn't have tortured. I would have been swift and as painless as possible. Because, sure, things aren't the way they used to be but they're still humans. They're still people."

Swallowing around the swell of emotion when Negan reached for her hand, Lucille let out the quietest of sighs. She made no move in either direction, she didn't try to tighten her grip on his hand or try to pull away. Even the smallest of comforts, she had to take. "You go easy on these people, Negan. You can take their shit but if they're hurting, you go easy. If they need help, you help them. You know why?" Lucille breathed as she turned her head to fix Negan with an intense gaze.

"These people, they are my familia now. They would do the same for me, as you would do. You have to promise me you won't kill anyone else because I swear to you, Negan. If you hurt them any more, you can keep your ring and I'll just carry on like my husband is dead because my husband would give my family a break. My husband would at least try. Right?"

Negan wanted to say the two words that hadn’t been so sincere to pass his lips… I’m sorry, he thought instead. James Negan was more than a prideful man. Just because his wife was sitting in front of him now didn’t change the fact that there were things that needed to be done. He had said it time and time again, he had a presence to uphold—especially in front of his people. What was she going to say if she came with him back to The Sanctuary? Would she be upset and judge him then too?

Negan removed his gaze from hers, for once in a long time words were not coming to his lips. He let go of her hand, allowing his own hands to lay palm down on the table. “Alright, Christ…” He mumbled. “No one else will be offed as long as your people don’t pull anything as stupid as they did. That shit was ridiculous Lucy. You want to talk about me torturing? Think about all the mess I have to clean up now because of your family.”

Negan help back the eye roll that was threatening to happen. Nonetheless, he shook his head, a small sigh expelling from his lips. They sure as shit had different views—more different now than ever. “Listen, I promise you I won’t do anything as long as those fucks can uphold their end. Okay?” He tentatively reached out once more, grabbing her hand. His grip was slightly more firm this time around. He lifted his gaze to look her directly in the eyes, a small smirk as he flashed her his teeth. “Besides,” he mumbled. “I’ve missed you and I don’t want your pretty ass to leave so soon.”

"Because you fucking take and you take and take. And take some more because you can," Lucille snapped, slamming her hand down on the table as he spoke. Her eyes were narrowed and she leaned forward to glare right into his eyes. "You think I wasn't there when Hilltop told us all about you? When the deal was struck? Because I fuckin' was and it made me sick. And now to know this shit is because of you? That has the grande ol' ability to be both amazing and make it even fuckin' worse."

Lucille jerked her hand away from Negan's as she shook her head. "Don't try and be all smooth now, you stupid fuck," Lucille snapped but the heat was gone from her words. She forced her face to remain neutral despite wanting to break into a grin. Her husband was alive. After so many days and nights of thinking he had to be gone, he wasn't. And that was a miracle that she couldn't just ignore.

Drawing in a slow breath, Lucille looked out the window to watch her group. It was dark and they were hard to see but they were there and her heart ached for them. "What happens now? I go with you? I hope you know I will still visit them from time to time - Rosita is my sister, Abraham my brother. I've lost more than enough of my people, I don't plan on losing more ever again."

Negan couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his wife as she spoke about Hilltop and then had jerked her hand away from his. In his very own opinion she was being a little more that dramatic—which she had the tendency to do at time. He wanted to reach out and grab her mouth and press his lips to her to shut her the fuck up… But right then wasn’t the time. He needed to give the hot-tempered Latina a while to cool off before he bowed up to her.

“I would like for you to come with me,” He said sternly. Did she not want to come back with him? He thought she might have been even the tiniest bit excited that her fucking husband was sitting across from her. Then again, Lucille could be even more cold and stoic when it came to keeping her feeling under wrap. Negan had learned that the hard way when they had first gotten married.

Negan leaned back against the seat, settling in. He crossed his arms over his chest as he took a hard look at her as well, matching the emotionless expression that she had on her face. “But if you don’t want to, then shit, I guess you don’t have to. Do you, sweetheart? Nah,” he said with a sigh. “You don’t have to come sleep in my bed in my house. You’re more then welcome to do whatever it is you would like.”

Lucille's eyes twitched a bit at Negan's reply. She had to fight away the wave of anger that stirred at his reaction but she knew that if there was anything worth saving, if there was anything that could still happen between the two of them, she would have to push away the anger and the distrust that was still so concrete in the pit of her stomach. Her Negan, for what it was worth, could still be there if she allowed it - if Negan still was.

"Don't be stupid," Lucille answered finally, the steely edge falling from her tone. She allowed a smile to play at the edges of her lips as she looked up from her hands before pushing herself out of the booth. She stepped around to where Negan was sitting and she reached a surprisingly steady hand out to cup his cheek. It wasn't until her fingers brushed against the scruff of his beard that Lucille's walls came completely down and when they did, they came crashing down.

"I never thought I'd get to see you again," she whispered, her words barely kept together. Lucille was determined not to cry but when he looked up to her, she lost the battle and for once, she was okay with that. It wasn't as if anyone outside could see her so she didn't need to keep her composure. Not in front of her husband. "Not a day went by that I didn't think of you, papi," she whispered, running her thumb over his bottom lip.

"Let's go home and celebrate, hm?"

Negan reached his hand up to lay over her hand that was resting against his fast. His calloused thumb ran against the smooth skin of the back side of her hand, a wonderful contrast he loved. He nodded at her and stood up. He bit his bottom lip as he squinted to look out the windows at everyone. He tilted his head slighted, “Things are different now, Lucy…” He let out a hoarse sigh as he stepped around her, making his way towards the door. “I just want you to remember that things have changed…” He turned towards her, a small smile on his face.

“This have surely fucking changed the past couple of years,” He mentioned. Negan’s hand reached out to grasp the door handle a little nervous about what he needed to say. He knew his wife and he knew just how temperamental she could be. As if he was trying to prepare her, he mumbled. “Just try and keep an open mind, alright doll?”

Negan made his way outside, a smirk playing on his lips once more. He bellowed out to his Saviors to take the guns away from the back of the groups head. He made sure to make it clear that they now worked for him. Within his rushed speech—as he was more than eager to get his wife in bed—he also mentioned that if he and his Saviors showed up at their dwelling, people better be answering him.

“Alright, you fucks. Let’s get out of here. I have shit that I need to take care of,” Negan ordered as he waltzed back to his vehicle.

Lucille's teeth grit as Negan spoke to her group, trying to will away the anger that sparked all over again. She knew that there was no getting out of this for them - Negan was probably more stubborn than she was, if not completely even. She sighed as she shoved her hands into her pockets, chewing on her bottom lip as Negan finished off his speech. Her eyes flicked toward her husband and she hesitated for a moment, not wanting to overstep boundaries and cause problems when there were already so many to clear up.

Fuck it.

Lucille stepped forward and made her way toward Abraham, her shoulders squared even as she stepped up to the man. Her face twisted into a sad sort of smile as she reached out for his hand. "Annie, life just took an unexpected turn but it's okay. It's all going to be okay," she murmured, unsure of how she could actually make her friend believe it.

"You be good and I'll visit as soon as I can, okay?" Lucille knew her words held a double meaning - if she visited, that likely meant Negan and the Saviours and ultimately, an offering. "Don't have too much fun without me."