Carl couldn't believe his eyes... eye.

"Open the gate!" he yelled down to Tara.

She threw him a startled glance before dragging the heavy gate to the left, opening it in time for the motorcycle to loudly glide through and stop a few meters away.

Rick came running out at the sound and stopped short at what he saw.

"Daryl," he rasped, stepping forward and wrapping the man in a tight hug that the redneck returned.

His brother in arms was back.

"Where's Maisie?" Carl asked eagerly as they broke apart.

Daryl turned to the teen. "She didn't come with me. She couldn't come with me," he grunted in response. His grunt was different. Sad.

Carl's face fell. "Oh," he replied solemnly, walking away.

She had forgiven him, but he was still mad at himself, and that wouldn't change until she was back inside the walls of Alexandria without the looming threat of Negan.

Something had changed for them that night. A bond had sparked, and it was strong despite the circumstances.

〄

Maisie's room was six floors above the bike lot, and she was sure to keep her window open. She smiled to herself when she heard the strangled cry followed by rogue gunshots and the sound of blood spilling onto the concrete.

She had known damn well that she forgot to properly execute the night guard.

Next, she heard the door swing open, another gunshot, and a body dropping. She was, however, truly surprised to hear the angry roar that followed two minutes later. Negan. And he was mad. Putting on a concerned face, she left her room and joined the throng of concerned people headed towards the commotion.

"Clear out," Negan snapped, glaring around at all the faces. "Except you," he growled, as Maisie turned to leave.

"Why me?"

Negan ignored her. When the last person left the hallway, he grabbed her by her biceps and pinned her against the wall.

"Wha—?" Maisie spluttered, her eyes wide. Negan's face was dark.

"Did you have anything to do with Daryl escaping?" he demanded, pushing her harder against the wall.

"No!" The lie slipped right through her teeth ever so easily.

"How can I trust you?"

"Why would I help him escape?! You'd probably go kill him and everyone I love, right down to my dog, if I did!" Maisie shouted back, wrenching herself from his grasp once again.

Giving him a cold glare, she straightened her jacket and walked away with her head held high.

When Maisie took her jacket off later, she noticed faint bruising peeking out from under the sleeves of her T-shirt. Sighing, she replaced her jacket and flopped back on her bed.

Negan and twenty of his best men — and women — had left for a 'run' and Maisie feared the worst. She had a twisting feeling in her gut that Negan was headed to Alexandria. She hoped at least Rick would have the brains to make Daryl lay low for a little while. Or, maybe, send him to the Hilltop.

Maisie suddenly wondered how Maggie was doing at the Hilltop; she'd been in pretty rough shape the last time Maisie had seen her, but to be fair, they were all in bad shape that night. When her heart began to ache, she forced herself to push the thoughts away.

〄

Negan and his Saviors returned hours later, sweaty and red faced from the heat. Maisie avoided Negan, choosing to stay in her room, until a runner arrived at her room to summon her to Negan's office.

She entered the room with a cold, hard look in her eyes. The door closed behind her and she crossed her arms.

"Sit—"

"Did you go to Alexandria?"

"Maisie —" Negan began to sigh, until she cut him off once again.

"I asked you a question."

"Just sit down," Negan barked, exasperated. Maisie sat down.

"No, I did not go to Alexandria."

"Fine. Why did you beckon me?"

"I wanted to give you something."

Maisie cocked an eyebrow as she watched Negan's gloved hand slip inside his jacket and emerge in a concealing fist.

"Give me your hand." And she did. She held her hand out across the desk and Negan dropped something cold into her palm. As Maisie looked at the item, another spark of hatred licked at her own being. She was careful to hide her emotions from Negan.

"It's beautiful," she said calmly, staring down at the necklace. It wasn't just a necklace, it was a cross; small and silver on a dainty silver chain.

Negan lied. He had gone to Alexandria. The cross in her hand belonged to Father Gabriel. Did Negan really think she was that daft?

Many thoughts raced through her mind as Negan got up. He took the cross from her and disappeared behind her back. Maisie flinched ever so slightly when her blonde locks were swept to the side and the cross was put in front of her eyes and then fastened at the back of her neck.

Maisie reached up to touch the cold piece of metal that rested between her collarbones. She knew it would warm up soon. She wished she could relate.

"Have you considered?"

Negan's gruff voice broke into her thoughts and she turned to look up at him as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of her.

"Not yet." Not ever.

"I can tell you're still fucking pissed."

"Uh-huh."

"Anything you want, name it and it's yours."

"Well..."

Twenty minutes later, Maisie pulled her hair up into a high, sleek ponytail as she stood in front of the row of motorcycles with a key in her pocket. She heard the metal door open behind her.

"What're you doing out here, princess?"

"Goin' for a joy ride."

"Does Negan know about this?"

"Maybe, maybe not," she replied vaguely, finding the bike that fit the key. She swung her leg over it and straddled it between her legs as she backed the machine out of its row.

Maisie threw Dwight a cocky wink as she kicked the Harley Davidson motorcycle to life and tore from the compound without a backwards glance.

The machine glided smoothly beneath her, the loud vibrations dulling to a purr outside her thoughts as she swerved lazily through the deserted road.

Maisie had laughed in Gabriel's face when she met him, now she respected the fact that he could keep a grasp on his faith in a chaotic world.

A biter stumbled from the woods ahead of her at the sound of the Harley. Maisie drew her knife from her hip as she accelerated, and held it out. As she drove past the dead woman, the tip of her knife sliced through it's rotten brain, smearing blood and brain matter over her hand.

Making a face, she slowed the Harley to a stop on the road and dug around in her backpack, retrieving a handkerchief and wiping off the blade and her hand before sheathing her knife and continuing her journey.

An hour later, Maisie slowed the Harley to a stop and steered it into the bushes, piling extra folliage on top to keep it hidden before setting off on foot.

As she approached, she saw no one on guard. Strange. Skipping forward on giddy feet, she drew her knife once again; holding it by the blade, she reached out and tapped the handle against the steel bars.

Rick glanced around at the faces that looked back at him, confused at the tapping from the outside world. It was obvious to him that it was a person on the other side, but it was hard to tell who. The sun was behind them, warping their shadow.

"What do you want?"

The figure didn't answer.

"If you're with Negan, we're not prepared," Rick tried again, and the figure remained silent. Carl cocked his head as his father, frustrated, walked forward and yanked open the gate, revealing none other than —

"Maisie!"

Rick moved out of the way as Carl ran past him, throwing his arms around the blonde. Maisie returned the favor, holding him tight and allowing him to rock her back and forth gently before he released her and retreated back inside the Alexandria walls.

"You gonna stand out there all day, stranger?" Rick asked, cocking a smile as she smiled wide and approached him. He engulfed her in a strong hug, before holding her out at arms length, his face darkening. "Where's Negan?"

"No Negan. Just me," Maisie smiled.

At the sound of a shrill yip, Maisie dropped to the pavement and welcomed Jackson into her arms, holding him tight against her body as Rick slid the gate closed.

"Hi, boy, hi, baby; oh, yes, hello," Maisie cooed, giggling as his tongue shot out and licked her cheek.

"Oh, how I've missed you," she said finally, letting him go and getting to her feet.

Maisie's pale eyes slid over Aaron's shoulder as Father Gabriel approached. As he got closer, she could see the cut that split his bottom lip. She started to walk towards him, breaking the distance between the two, reaching her hands behind her neck as she went.

"Father Gabriel," she said, as the cross fell into her palm, "I believe this belongs to you."

"Thank you," he said serenely, taking the cross from her and slipping it into his pocket as Maisie's eyes drifted to the cut through his bottom lip.

"I'm really sorry about—"

"Maisie, you have no need to be sorry. None of this was ever your fault."

Maisie went to thank him, when her breath caught in her throat and she felt heat rise in her cheeks as Daryl exited the nearest house.

He laid eyes on her and slowed his pace drastically, almost as if he didn't believe what he was seeing. Maisie gave him a quick once over.

He was dressed in a clean button up with the sleeves rolled up, and his long, usually sweaty, hair had finally been washed.

"Guess I don't have to spray you with the hose after all," she teased, grinning up at him as his strong arms came together around her shoulders and she was pulled close to him.

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