"We'll do something for him," Neal says quietly. He tightens his grip on Negan, the motion driven in part by a sudden little spike of fear. "You're not leaving, right?"

Maybe Negan wouldn't go far, couldn't even go far, but still. Neal liked knowing people were close by. As safe as they could get in this town. It occurs to him with faint and pained amusement that his question is the kind of thing that Malcolm would ask and so often does. A little accidental reminder to have patience in the moments when Malcolm needs that reassurance.

Neal draws back enough to look Negan in the eye. "I don't want you to."