Maisie was awake far before Negan and his Saviors. She slipped out of her room before the first light of dawn had a chance to shine through her window and made her way to the showers. She was washed and dried in under ten minutes; she wasn't one to linger for longer than necessary.

The Sanctuary began to show signs of life as she returned to her room. The graze on her arm continued to sting, but Maisie ignored it, adding it to the list of mental and physical scars she had. She ditched the new leather jacket Negan had gifted her, replacing the ripped one, and slipped back out of her room She was on yet another mission.

In the early morning, the hallway was eerily quiet, the souls inside their cells too defeated to make a sound. A strange chill drifted through the hallway, causing goosebumps to erupt on Maisie's bare arms. She wished she hadn't gone without her jacket.

She tapped her knuckles against the door and pressed her ear to it, listening for the scuffling inside, followed by a dry grunt.

"You wanna know something?" Maisie whispered, leaning close to the heavy door.

"No."

Maisie rolled her pretty green eyes and bit back a dramatic sigh. Daryl was built like a bull, with the muscular limbs and the sharp horns that kept anyone who could possibly care about him at bay. Luckily for Maisie, she had just the right armor. Smiling to herself, she carried on.

"Remember when the wolves attacked? I thought I was going to die that night. You saved me, Daryl."

Unseen by her, Daryl's eyes had widened and his posture straightened. Until then, he'd been too wrapped up in his own misery to put two and two together, but the revelation shot straight through his brain like a hot bullet. The recognition simply clicked.

"Maisie?" he croaked, voice wavering ever so slightly. He licked his cracked lips, anxiously waiting for confirmation. Or, he supposed, denial.

As Maisie went to respond, she heard footsteps just out of earshot and scrambled to her feet just as Dwight turned the corner, dressed in Daryl's angel wings and wielding his weapon. Maisie's top lip raised in an involuntary snarl that she didn't hurry to correct when Dwight stopped in front of her, drawing himself to his full height in an attempt to intimidate her.

"What the fuck did I tell you about being in this hallway?"

"You're not the one who dictates where I can and cannot be."

"Don't get smart with me," Dwight snapped, his unburned eyebrow furrowing darkly.

"Lap dog," Maisie simpered coldly, turning on her heel. She yelped as his hand closed around her thin arm and her back hit the solid wall.

"And you're Negan's little bitch," Dwight growled, trapping her between the wall and his body.

"I'm nobody's bitch," Maisie spat back, her voice dripping with venom and her light eyes burning with hatred.

"But, you are many's whore."

"Is pissing me off a game to you, or do you just get off on it?" Maisie snapped, shoving him away from her.

As she stomped away from Dwight, a tightness constricted her chest; it wasn't her intense hatred, it was something else, for someone else. She knew who it was, she just didn't want to believe it.

〄

Throughout the day, Maisie's hearftfelt exchange with Rick back at Alexandria kept creeping into her thoughts. It was particularly pesky while she was trying to read Mr. Mercedes.

She missed Alexandria terribly; she missed Jackson, and Tara, and Carl. Most importantly, she missed Glenn and Abe. Her sleep had always been plagued with the nightmare of watching her friends die right in front of her.

Maisie missed Rick just as much. She'd always been able to get away with calling him Officer Friendly. Although he claimed he hated the nickname, the corners of his mouth always twitched in the tiniest of smiles when she said it. Rick Grimes was her leader, not Negan.

Although Negan gave her countless material gifts, Rick had given her her freedom.

Maisie shrieked as a short alarm echoed through the library, and the rest of the Sanctuary, startling her from her melancholy. Negan had been hesitant to take her back there; he'd been beside himself when she had gotten hurt.

"Saviors meeting," she sighed, standing up and stomping the pins and needles from her left foot before she set out for the main floor.

Outside the library, Maisie joined the throng of marching Saviors, all afraid of being late for Negan. She turned at the sound of her name, disgruntling the Saviors that shoved past her; she saw Simon striding towards her and pulled off to the side, out of the way.

"Yeah?"

"Negan wants you on the catwalk," Simon told her, striding away immediately afterwards.

A ball of lead seemed to settle in the pit of Maisie's stomach as she looked up at the dull yellow metal platform hanging high above her head. Exhaling hard, she pushed back her shoulders and dove into the sea of various shades of black, grey, and brown.

Maisie was surprised, and annoyed, to see Simon standing smugly on the catwalk when she got there.

"You couldn't have waited for me, you ass?" Maisie snapped, standing at the opposite end.

The alarm had gone off three minutes ago, according to Simon's watch with the face directed at her, but the man himself was not present.

As she zoned out, she heard a collective noise, and clued in in time to see the Saviors down on the floor kneeling. She looked up and saw Negan had appeared on the platform.

"Kneel, bitch," the Savior kneeling behind her barked, pistol whipping the back of Maisie's calf. Maisie let out a hiss at the hit that nearly brought her to her knees, had it not been for Negan catching her arm.

"You don't need to kneel for me, doll....unless I really fucking want you to," Negan chuckled, winking at her in a manner that made her insides curl. Still, she kept a poker face until he turned and addressed his followers.

〄

After that morning, whenever Dwight had let him out, Daryl was convinced he was seeing Maisie everywhere, or what he thought was Maisie. He never really saw her face, he always thought he saw platinum blonde hair whipping around the corner or heard her voice in the midst of the Saviors that leered at him.

Daryl thought Dwight's torture had finally gotten to him, until he was dragged to the main floor and he saw her. An angel amongst the devils. As he watched her, anger flared in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he was used to, but this time it felt different; Negan brought his hand up to Maisie's face, caressing her cheek, and tracing her jawline with his finger, before running the same finger across her collarbones.

The whole floor saw it, and Negan knew it. That was his intention, to show that Maisie was his, before he turned away from her and boomed to his Saviors. Daryl frowned at the sick, almost scared look Maisie made with Negan's back turned.

She looked like death, but she also looked beautiful.

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