The woman had prayed to God for her boy to be safe, but the Lord answered Maggie's prayer like he always did since he cursed this world to ruin. Mother…Father…her stepbrother Shawn…her baby sister Beth…Glenn…her little boy…All the people she lost along the way, never to be found again.

God took them all from her, and she could never understand why. Maggie was taught to worship the Lord, to believe and place her faith in him. Father always reassured her despite the tragedies and decay of the world they lived in that her faith was not misplaced. That he was watching and listening. Always.

The Lord's rough ways, her father Hershel called it. Her old man preached that those who did good were loved and beholden in the eyes of God, called to the path of greatness and would be rewarded in both mercy and kindness.

When he was still alive, she believed it to be true. Kind eyes that stood against the turning of the world, always keeping her grounded to the light of mercy and goodness. The old man never gave in, always stood his ground. When he still breathed, her heart beat in the faith of God. Even after he passed and left her and Beth, Maggie still kept to the path he would have her walk on.

So when was it then? When did she stray from that path? She couldn't remember, but maybe it wasn't a sudden turning point in time. Maybe it was slow. Gradual. When she was a girl she could barely bring herself to wring the neck of a chicken, but now? Killing came easy to her now. Men and beasts alike, when did it get so easy to pull the trigger?

If I were to stand before that little girl now, would she think me a monster? To know what she would become, would she run away?

Through parted leaves that hung overhead, Maggie could see the rays of light that strained to pierce through. Oh, how she wished she could reach out and grasp the light that failed to break through. To have that freedom just beyond her.

She almost gave in to do just that, but then he blocked out the light. Him with those eyes blacker than coal that stilled her to the darkness and the cold touch of the waters that enveloped them both. Negan. Did he save her, or was he simply killing her slowly? Was it all the same?

Maggie thought back to the light he blocked out. There in that light she should have been with all her loved ones. With all the people she had lost and had forgotten. This was his revenge, surely. To keep her from that light. To keep her and have her where only he could have her. To have her suffer just as he did.

I made him a promise. I'd keep him from that freedom. I'd have him suffer in that cell while the world moved on. He'd be forgotten. Less than a man. Less than a beast. For what he did to them all, let him rot.

She kept him from that mercy of death. He begged her to kill him, even resorted to taunting just so that he could finally see his Lucille. And oh how the tables turn. He took away the mercy of death just as she did to him. Maggie wanted nothing to do with this world now. There was nothing left for her, just as there was nothing left for him. He would keep her just as she kept him.

Maggie's thoughts turned to what her father had said as she looked to the light beyond her reach. The Lord's rough ways. The words he preached she kept to her heart, believed what he said about God.

But seeing her boy the way she did, finding comfort in the man who took from her – Maggie understood the truth of God. She knew it for a long time now, but she kept herself blind to it for as long as she possibly could. Kept herself blind until she was forced to gaze upon the blinding truth that gouged and tore until there was nothing left. The Lord does not love. He does not reward those who are faithful and good. God only takes, and he curses.

She had taught her boy to pray and worship God just as her parents did to her when she was a little girl. She spoke the same words her father did, and her little boy believed her. Trusted her with all his heart.

But she lied. Maggie lied to him just as God did to her because she wanted to believe. She wanted to be proven wrong. Just once. Not for her, but for him. And she prayed then for it. Maggie prayed for the first time in a long time.

God answered her prayer the way he always did. With cruelty. The Lord tore the blindness from her eyes and forced her to gaze upon the cold-hearted truth.

The Lord's rough ways. He'd take from her until there was nothing left. Take from them all until only the walking dead remained. This was his curse to them all, and their survival only angered him further.

Maggie felt the hand of Negan cusp her cheek then, saw the cage of sorrow and pain that held his eye. She looked at him with her own eyes through her wet and parted hair that draped over her face, and she wondered if he could see the cage of sorrow and pain that held her too.

Of course he does, she thought. He along with God did this to her, but she knew not who was crueler. The man that kept her from the light or the Lord who desired only to drown her in darkness, both of which took those who she loved.

Maybe it was all wrong. Perhaps it was Negan who kept her in darkness, and God who kept her from the light. One was the Lord, the other revered and worshiped as a god amongst men before his downfall.

Maggie focused on the hand that held her for the first time. It was course and rough against her smooth skin, but firm and present. Seven days since the fall, since she lost everything that kept her going.

Those hands of Negan's that bathed her now had done so much more since that day. The smudges and blurs to that fog of memories of what took place after he took her from Alexandria began to clear and define themselves in her mind.

Maggie remembered the snarls of the dead and Negan's ragged breath as he ran with her in his arms. There had been trouble, Whisperers still lingering about for any stragglers that might still be alive after they had brought down Alexandria.

She was all but gone as they chased, still thinking about her boy and why God took him away. Of the blinding truth and the man who kept her from death just as she did to him. Negan had pleaded and begged for her to move and run with him, that she was going to be the death of them both if she didn't.

When she responded with silence, his pleading twisted into breathless curses. He took them and their pursuers deep into the forests before laying her down by a tree. He left her there, and she could hardly think as to why he hadn't done so sooner if he wanted to save his own skin.

Another part of her wondered why she hadn't shot him in the back before he could leave her sight. It was too late by the time the thought occurred, but by then he had returned. Negan picked her up like he hadn't left her, and they continued on their way. He wasn't running anymore, and by the split on his lip and the bloodstained teeth he showed when he grinned at her, Maggie knew there was no reason for him to do so.

He hadn't turned to leave her behind, but to take care of the problem. Several Whisperers had been hot on their trail, but Negan killed them all. It reminded her of just the night before everything went wrong. She had looked into his eyes and saw only defeat, a broken man.

And yet, the very next day he had killed several Whisperers. A broken blade was still dangerous, perhaps even more now that it was broken and jagged. It was just her and him down there in that prison. She felt powerful with him on his knees before her, exhilarated at how powerless he was to resort to begging.

To see the man who made them all get on their knees now on his, pleading for death when they had been so fearful and helpless at his feet, Maggie felt the power course through her veins. She was so sure he was powerless, but was he truly?

The monster never dies no matter how many times you strike it down. It only changes shape. It bides its time, waiting for the right moment to strike. The lessons of her father echoed in her mind. Negan could have grabbed her by the leg in that moment, pull her down to break her neck. By the time anyone came down to check on them, she'd be long dead and gone to the light.

Her guard had been lowered when she thought him a shell of the man she once feared, but he never truly left. The fear of him still lingered on in her heart, his grin and laugh of that terrible night still haunting her. It did every day and night, even in her dreams he was there looking at her with those eyes. Those damned eyes blacker than coal with that damned bat dripping red with blood. She'd wake up just as he raised his arms to bring his precious Lucille down on her head.

No. He never left her. Not ever since that day he took from her and crushed her world and soul. She prayed to God then, when she was at Negan's feet and his mercy. Maggie wept and sobbed silently then when she was on her knees, pregnant with her heart racing a thousand miles a second. God stayed silent. The Lord had no need to answer her in cruelty when another would take his stead. Only the Savior Negan heeded her prayer. Only her savior would act as God, choosing and taking from those who kneeled before him.

The Lord always watches. That's what Maggie's father taught her. So was he laughing joyously as Negan took the mantle? Was the Lord proud of the proclaimed god amongst men in that moment as he acted as he himself would? Cruel and merciless, smiling as he took one life before another?

Negan enjoyed it, did he not? Killing must feel good to God too. After all, the Lord does it all the time. And are we not created in his image? And who better crafted in his likeness than Negan?

The Lord's rough ways…what a joke.

God wasn't there when she prayed for her boy to be safe. He wasn't there when she prayed for him to find her just as he had promised. The man who was there from start to finish was the very man she wanted nothing more than to be gone and away. Even when he wasn't there, Negan lingered on in her mind and soul.

Why was it him? Why did it have to be him?

He had said it himself, hadn't he?

Baby girl, I'm not going nowhere anytime soon. Can't get rid of me that easily! I'm afraid you're stuck with me until we both find ourselves some better company.

Negan spun her around and laughed after he had said that. Spun her around in his arms like she was some long-lost lover. Maggie didn't know what to make of it, of his words nor his actions. Nothing felt real anymore.

He was right when he said that. A lot occurred in seven days, but Negan never left. There were times when he needed to scavenge for food and supplies, but he never strayed far or for long. Always tried to keep her out of sight and safe until he could get her back into his arms.

Negan tried for her at every turn now that she thought about it. Whatever he could find, he always gave to her first. These past seven days there had only ever been enough for one. The logical thing would have been to split what meagre provision there was, or even for him to eat and drink the majority as he was the one caring for her and moving them along, but he always ensured she was full despite it being at his expense.

It had been seven days, all of which Negan starved himself so that she could eat. How hard must it have been for this man? To savor the taste of food and water only to give it to her? Before Maggie could feel mortified at the thought of him feeding her and putting his lips to hers, she thought of what he went through and the look on his face as he so clearly struggled.

How agonizing would the temptation be? To want to swallow the food already chewed, just a mere moment away from sating that hunger? To feel the coolness of the water on the tongue only to swallow emptily as it passed down her throat instead?

Maggie saw the flicker of emotions in those eyes of his, how he went to war with himself each and every time. Negan's gaze was haunted before long, but the man endured for her. Maggie felt how he stumbled and groaned as he carried her for miles on end, the trembling of his fingers and the quaking of his arms.

Negan was hellishly stubborn, never slowing until absolutely necessary. Each and every time he had to put her down the man did so gently, making sure she was as comfortable as she could possibly be.

With the memories crashing into her like waves against the shore, Maggie couldn't help but question everything. Would Negan go so far for revenge? Would he do all this just to keep her away from the light so that she could toil in anguish with him?

It didn't make sense. If it were her in his shoes, she'd starve him. Make sure he was just barely alive, enough to feel and suffer like she was. She'd hurt him every other day for the things he did, the pain he inflicted. And yet Negan went above and beyond for her at the expense of himself. It contradicted her thoughts about his intentions, blurred the monster of God to something she couldn't recognize.

Maggie thought briefly to the other things the man had done for her, the knowledge a heavy weight upon her heart once remembered. Forget the mouth-to-mouth feeding, Maggie can't believe Negan even helped her with that.

The woman felt the heavy blush of shame paint her cheeks, something that hadn't appeared since she was a teenage girl having her first period. She didn't want to believe those memories of hers that showed how he had helped her when she needed to relieve herself, but there was no other explanation to how experienced he was with handling her body. This was far from the first time he had seen her naked, nor was it the first time he cleaned her.

In more ways than one. It just had to be Negan of all people. God must be laughing, maybe he never stopped…

The heat she felt on her cheeks must have shown because a grin slowly formed on Negan's face.

''Like what you see sweetheart? I got to say, about time you realized how good-looking I am. I'm known to make the pretty girls like you faint, so don't look too hard.'' Negan chuckled as he pulled her away from the surface of the waters.

Idiot, she thought. His words served to pull Maggie away from her darker thoughts, reminded her just how insufferable Negan was throughout these days. He had his serious moments like the one minutes before, but more often than not the man couldn't shut the hell up. He talked just to talk so that there wasn't any silence, something she desperately yearned for when in his presence. The last thing she had wanted was to hear his voice, be reminded of who it was that held her and cared for her.

Maggie scoffed internally at the number of pet names he called her in the span of days. Sugar pie, sugarplum, princess, sweet peach, kitten, baby girl, even snuggle bug! She knew he did it to get a rise out of her, and it would have worked had she been fully conscious as she was right now.

It's working now, though. Whispered a treasonous voice.

Just thinking back to him calling her those names really did get her angry, and Negan with that grin of his made his face all the more attractive for her to punch it bloody.

Who the hell is your sweetheart, your baby girl?! Say it again and I will end you, Negan. The number of times he called her baby girl was more often than the other pet names, and the most effective at making her see nothing but red. Maggie tried to convey her inner thoughts with her eyes, but Negan never looked back down at her. He was too busy laying her on a makeshift bed of cloth as he worked to get her dry.

Bastard. You look like a wet rat. Smell like one too! Maggie calmed herself after throwing a few silent insults his way, none of which he'd know about unless she actually spoke. It begged the question. Did she want to speak? Doing so would end this farce, put a stop to her humiliation from going any further.

Maggie opened her mouth ever so slightly to speak, but shut her lips closed just as Negan turned to look at her. He tilted his head just a bit, his brow slightly furrowed before he shook his head.

''I swear sometimes I think I'm actually getting through to you, Maggie.'' Negan lifted her head as he spoke, carefully drying her hair with a towel. ''Sometimes I think I see a flicker of life in those eyes of yours, just to see it disappear before I can make sense of whether it was real or not. You blushing back there was the first real sign you've given me in days, and I don't know what to think of it.''

Maggie bit the inside of her cheek as Negan grabbed another small towel and moved to dry the rest of her body. She didn't know whether she wanted to continue whatever the hell this was, but her body was acting in the moment to do so.

And so to not end this, she couldn't move as she wanted to. She couldn't move to see what he was doing, only feel as Negan slowly swiped the towel across her body. Maggie's breathing became shallow as he ran the cloth over her breasts and over her abdomen. Her heart began to race as his hand cupped her left breast to dry the underside before moving on to the next.

That's when she felt it, the spike of arousal at feeling his course and calloused skin that would briefly scrape against her nipples and the hollow of her stomach. Dread intermixed with budding desire as she felt her peaks stiffen and protrude.

Any coherent thought that was on the cusp of forming was swept away when Negan grabbed her leg and spread her thighs to dry the area between her legs.

Maggie tasted blood in her mouth when the fabric brushed against her lower folds and the hood to that little gem. Just like before, Maggie's body reacted against her will. She couldn't believe the pool of desire that so easily built up in her lower half from a single brush of the rough cloth, but her body had been deprived of any sort of release for years.

Seven years, her body reminded her. Maggie bit harder on the flesh of her mouth as Negan ran the towel one last time across that area, hoping that he would mistake the liquid of arousal that she felt was dripping out of her for droplets of water.

If Negan recognized the difference, the man didn't make it known. Maggie felt reassured that if he did, he would have surely made a comment on it. Right?

What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn't be feeling this way! His touch should disgust me, so why is it doing the opposite?

Maggie's wanted to believe it was the cloth of the towel that drew out her desire, but it wasn't until his hand brushed against her skin and held her breasts that she felt the old familiar arousal that pooled in her lower stomach and seeped out from her core.

I'm going insane. I have to be.

But are you? That treasonous voice argued. You abandoned your body, left it to die. So why wouldn't it grow fond of the man that kept you alive and well?

Negan held her calf as he slipped a woolen sock over her foot. The weather was gradually getting colder, and his warm and calloused touch along with the frigid air did nothing to stop her growing sense of arousal.

Maggie titled her head to sneak a peak at the man. He was smiling softly, looking lost in thought as he moved to grab her other foot.

He's going to dress me. Negan is going to see the wetness between my thighs once he moves to put me in panties.

She was at a loss on what to do. Her mind was drawing blanks as her body only burned hotter at the thought that she was going to be exposed for her arousal.

This can't be real. I'm going insane.

Negan finished putting the woolen socks on her feet, and the man moved out of her sight only to return with a pair of panties and the rest of what she would be wearing for the day – maybe for several days to come.

The sight of black lace panties made her body feel all sorts of things, none of which her mind wished to linger on. Maggie opted simply to close her eyes as he slipped the panties through her feet and slid them across her legs and thighs.

Maybe he didn't see it.

He'll see the evidence of it once he slips them off to change them for another pair. Again with the devil's advocate. What will Negan think when he sees the traces of arousal?

Maggie was getting tired of arguing with herself. Was Negan the type to inspect her used panties? Why was she even thinking these things in the first place? What did it matter if he saw that she was horny? He'd seen much worse from her anyways, and Negan knew what she would do to him if he so much as tried to lay a hand on her.

He already is…

I'm talking about in a lustful way, argued Maggie.

Unlike her lower half, her nipples could be excused for getting stiff due to the cold air. Maggie told herself that over and over as he cupped her breasts to fit the bra across her chest and as he moved her arms through the straps.

She breathed a sigh of relief now that her most sensitive parts were covered. That burning pool of desire began to cool down now that the excitement was over, though Maggie was beginning to feel the uncomfortableness at having her lower folds cling stickily to her panties.

Negan was much quicker on dressing her now that the bra and panties were out of the way. She was reminded of the first time he undressed her. He had been fumbling about with going through with it.

Maggie, am I really going to do this? I mean I'm all for seeing a perky ass, but uh – I don't want to go about doing any of this without consent. Hell, I'd rather you just do all this on your own. Maggie?

Negan had prodded her with his finger, still wondering why she was so quiet and not moving. Several times he had put his head to her chest to see whether or not her heart was still beating, several times sighing to himself as he crossed one line after another.

Her jeans had already been taken off, and she saw in the corner of her eye Negan's hesitance as he stared at her with nothing but her bra and panties on. Maggie heard him mutter beneath his breath: Cruel joke. Got to be…

Negan swiped a hand over his long and disheveled hair as he sighed. Maggie I don't want to take off your panties only for you to snap out of it and kill me for thinking I'm doing something other than trying to help you. You had an accident, and I'm going to do what I have to do. Alright?

It was the moment Negan realized things were more severe than he realized. Maggie's body had relieved itself when it could no longer hold in her bladder and bowels, and Negan wrestled with the reality that he was going to have to undress her and clean up after her.

Looking back on it now, Maggie almost couldn't believe what had transpired. Negan as the days passed got quicker at undressing her and growing attuned with her bodily needs. He never stopped asking if it was alright to do so, always trying to get her back on her feet.

Maggie watched as he headed back into the waters. He always put her first. Negan had bathed her and clothed her before he would treat himself to a wash and new set of clothes.

I don't understand him, but then again, I never wanted to. Negan, the man who's seen everything about me and done more for me than anyone ever has. I don't even know his last name or where he came from.

She watched like a hawk as Negan submerged himself fully into the water, grew entranced at the rivulets of water that clung to his beard and the tips of his head of hair when he emerged. She hated to admit it, but he was handsome. He looked like one of those Greek gods with his beard and long hair, the broadness of his shoulders that paired with his towering figure. One of war, Maggie thought as her gaze narrowed on the sea of scars that etched themselves into Negan's flesh. Old and new alike, the man bore the marks of a survivor.

Maggie's thoughts abruptly shifted as she continued to watch. A harsh wind blew through the forest that surrounded them, swaying the trees to a momentary dance.

God must love Negan.

The light pierced through the leaves and painted his figure a pale gold. All the surrounding light seemed to have been swallowed away, driven towards where Negan bathed in the waters. It was as if God was encouraging her to look at his beloved creation, all the while mocking her as he bathed Negan in the light beyond her grasp.

Negan turned to look at her from where he stood in the water, perhaps to make sure she was alright. All she could think of was those eyes that pierced through the golden light. Eyes that only searched for her. Maggie yearned for that light, but Negan hardly cared for it. She remarked that the Lord did not love, but perhaps there was an exception. In his own cruel way, perhaps God did love Negan.

There was a desire pooling in her, but it wasn't the same needy desire that betrayed her mind for his touch and warmth. It was a desire of the mind to know the man reflected in her green eyes.

This whole time I've been thinkin' I know what this man wants with me. That his heart is set for pain and hurtin' just as mine. The more I look the more I don't know, but if I play the cards I've been dealt I may yet know.

It was a risk like all things, but there wasn't much else Maggie had going for her. These past few days she was lost in her own head, no reason to do anything but let the dead take her and him.

This was the first time she felt a desire to do something, to look forward to what was next. Already her mind was racing, wondering where they were going and what Negan's plans were.

The cards she'd been dealt weren't pretty by any means, but Maggie figured it was a small price to pay. She wouldn't have to talk to him, doing so would ruin any chances at getting to know the man like she wanted to. He'd have his guard up, more than willing to trade insults and start arguments to draw her wrath.

Make him think I'm gone and broken. Let him take pity and talk himself away. The monster never dies, but it can be understood, can't it?

Why was he going to this extent for her? Was it really for atonement, his way of apologizing for the atrocities he committed? Maybe he had something twisted and cruel in wait for her?

What would he do now that he was free from his imprisonment? Would he restart the Saviors? Have men and women worship him alike? In that cell he was deprived of his power, leader of none. But Negan was free now, and Maggie knew how charmful and persuading he could be.

There was no one but her to keep eyes on the man. For all anyone knew Negan was already a dead man walking, killed in the fall of Alexandria.

So why not kill me and get rid of the last link? He knows my hatred; knows I wanted him dead. I may have made the decision that living was a worse punishment for him, but for all he knows I changed my mind. He does all this for me knowing I could finish him off in his sleep.

That desire to know more was growing out of control. Maggie was stubborn all her life about getting her way, and when she wanted something, she got it. Always. She'd have her questions answered, all of them in their due time. It was a solemn promise the woman made to herself as golden light and eyes blacker than coal reflected from her pools of green.