"You--" He wants to ask how or why or when, but he can't do that. He can't force a word out when shame is already twisting inside him. He takes a step away from Neal, his hands balling into fists at his sides as panic gnaws at him.

Fuck. And here he'd been hoping no one would have to see that side of him. "Neal, I..."

What the fuck can he say?

"Don't say we." It was Negan who did it. Negan who laughed and joked about it.

"They slaughtered people in their sleep, my people. I had to make a point." That's just an excuse though, isn't it? He always had a choice. People always fucking do.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."