Chapter 3
Yolanda was given a list of things that Negan expected to be done around the house throughout the day. Both Yolanda and Sherry were given breakfast on the first day but beyond that, Yolanda had to prepare every meal. They were both surprised to receive eggs and homemade bread. They ate on the wrap-around porch. The rest of Yolanda's list consisted of cleaning the house and doing laundry.
"I can do my own laundry," Sherry grumbled on behalf of Yolanda. It almost disgusted her that Yolanda's job consisted of housekeeping. She was a strong and capable woman that didn't need to clean up after other people. Yolanda also had an adopted daughter named Jenna to keep herself occupied. Even though Sanctuary had a school set up and Jenna was gone during the day, Sherry could tell that Yolanda was on edge by not being with her. Especially since they had all spent six months being at each other's side nonstop.
Sherry helped with Yolanda's work even if Negan didn't require it. She only didn't want Yolanda to be the only one who worked on the house as she practically did nothing. "This is a step back," Yolanda said as they cleaned the pigsty of a kitchen.
Sherry scrubbed at a plate that had been there for what seemed like ages and almost gagged at the smell. "I guess someone thinks us incapable of doing anything else," Sherry muttered while Yolanda smiled.
"It's a little odd to be doing these things after we have camped outside for so long," Yolanda commented. "Almost like being at the mansion again."
Sherry had thought about one of their hold up places in the six months that they were out on the road and avoiding walkers. The mansion was the best set up that they had but even then it became overrun with the undead. "Almost," she replied while pondering how different Sanctuary was to that slice of heaven.
Yolanda looked to the list of chores then glanced towards Sherry. "It says that you need to take a shower before ten o'clock," Yolanda said then looked to the clock above the small kitchen table. "It's a quarter after nine now."
Sherry knew that they had running water in the houses of Sanctuary when she turned the faucet on at the kitchen sink. Yet she still stared at Yolanda with astonishment. "A shower?" She questioned.
Yolanda nodded. "Already took one last night. It was very nice," she responded and went back to wiping down the kitchen counters. "Go for it. I'll be okay."
…
Sherry carried a kitchen chair upstairs with her as she propped it against the door just in case. She turned the water on as she took her clothes off and waited for it to warm up. Surprisingly, the water did warm up very nicely as she tried to wash herself off as fast as she could. The sound of the water put her on edge because she could hear very little else. Even though she could admit to herself that she enjoyed a nice hot shower, Sherry felt antsy regardless.
When she got out, she quickly wrapped a towel around her and grabbed the new clothes that she brought in from the bedroom. When she heard a male voice downstairs, she hurriedly dried herself and put her clothes on hoping that Yolanda was alright. Yolanda would have told her that they were expecting company soon and the arrival wasn't planned. She ran a towel through her hair to help it dry before she opened the door and walked down the stairs to see what was going on.
When she stepped down to the main floor, she saw Negan in the living room as he looked up to her cheerfully. Sherry gazed around the room and didn't see Yolanda anywhere in sight. "Where's Yolie?" She asked with somewhat worry. She still wasn't used to the separation from her group after months of being shoulder to shoulder.
"I told her to take a lunch break and be with her daughter," Negan disclosed as he walked towards her. "You sure clean up nice." Negan almost had a boyish look about him. Sherry noticed his deep dimples every time that he grinned and hated how much she was attracted to that trait. She turned it off and reminded herself that those appeared when he became the most demented.
"Thanks," she replied halfheartedly as she looked away from him wondering what he wanted.
"Want to take a walk with me?" Negan asked her while taking her hand. Sherry stiffened at the touch but stood frozen unsure of what to do. "I'm going to teach you how to fire a weapon. Just to make sure that you have proper training."
Sherry nearly glowered at him. "I already know how to use a gun. My dad taught me years ago."
Negan scoffed at her tone and kissed her on the temple while she immediately pulled back at the unsolicited affection. Harmless, but it still made her uncomfortable. "Yeah, we'll see about that," Negan said while waving off her indifference. Sherry was annoyed by his cockiness and his assurance that she was clueless in matters of weapons. In fact, she could have proven to be a cruddy wife for all he knew but because she was a woman that's all she knew how to be. Annoyed was an understatement.
They walked out of the front door as some Saviors that awaited them on the porch followed as they walked towards Negan's white picket fence. Without even thinking, she started to search Dwight's face among the people that she could see. Unfortunately, she didn't see any signs of him.
"Where is my group?" She asked as nonchalantly as possible. She was constantly nervous for their well-being.
"They are out and about doing things that contribute to the group. Not causing a lick of trouble like some other newcomers have," Negan said as a matter-of-factly. "I'm fucking impressed actually. They'll be great assets to the Saviors cause."
"They probably only listen to rules because they are scared of you," Sherry accused not trying to say it as a compliment.
Negan stopped and pondered what Sherry had said. "Good," he said shortly. "That's how I want it to be."
Sherry didn't say any more. So far, she had seen his worst side; someone who she wished that she had never seen. The good side of Negan was a one way street. There was only room to please Negan. Negan didn't care to please his "friends."
Sherry and Negan turned the corner towards the downtown area of Sanctuary and headed towards a building nearby the court house which looked to be an old police department. Negan guided Sherry to the back entrance that had stairs to its basement. He opened a metal door as it led to small, dark room. There was some light that protruded from a glass door that showed into an even bigger room while Negan showed her the opposite wall that had clean ear plugs. Sherry looked in the other room and was surprised to see what it actually was. Negan instructed her to put on some hearing protection before they opened the door to none other than a shooting range in the basement of the police station.
Once the door opened, everyone that was inside the range stopped firing their weapons. When Negan closed the door behind them, the weapons fired once more as Sherry was grateful for the ear plugs that she wore.
"This is one of the reasons we decided to stay in this town over every other place," Negan yelled right next to her to be overheard by all the gunshots. "This police station had a shooting range that is completely sound proof. Very rare for a small town. We lucked out! And this way we can practice without having a herd come our direction!"
"Aren't you worried about running out of ammo?" Sherry shouted over the sudden blasts from the firearms.
Negan chuckled as he found two empty booths at the end of the room. "We have enough fucking ammo for years! Most of our shit came from army camps from all over the D.C. area. There was a lot of those," he explained as he grabbed an assault rifle that was propped against the wall.
"D.C.? Like Washington D.C.?" Sherry inquired. She had no idea that her group had made it up that north from Georgia. Because they stayed off major highways and away from big cities, they had no idea where they were for the last several months.
"Yes ma'am. The one and only," Negan said and handed her the rifle. "Let's try this one first, sweetheart. The recoil isn't bad so you won't get a bad bruise on your shoulder."
"Not the first time I used one," Sherry reminded as she grabbed the gun from Negan's grasp while standing in front of her own lane. Sherry checked to see if the rifle was loaded and if the safety was off then adjusted the gun's length for her shorter arms. When she saw everything was ready, she finally looked up to see what her targets were. Walker heads lined the back wall on metal shelves. Sherry could have estimated hundreds, if not thousands, of walker heads.
"Right in between the eyes," Negan informed as he set up his gun in the lane next to her. "Anything else doesn't fucking count."
She held the gun and saw the walkers in her sight. She pushed down on the trigger and her first shot hit a walker square in the eye. She then had her eyes set on the walker head next to the one she had just killed. She shot that one in the temple and then went for another walker beside it as the shot fell in between the eyes.
"Finally! You actually got a point," Negan said sarcastically. She glared at him to see his teasing smirk as he winked in her direction when they made eye contact.
Sherry smiled to herself as she felt some confidence overflow. She took aim and shot at five more walkers. All of which were in between the eyes as per Negan's instructions.
"Who did you say taught you to shoot?" Negan asked her in awe.
"My dad," Sherry clarified and then shot another walker.
Negan whistled at her ability with a gun then shook his head. "I'm fucking impressed. This is a major turn on for me," Negan relayed and then shot his gun that was in his hands.
Bleh, Sherry thought from his comment. "I told you that I was decent with a gun," she said timidly without trying to sound thoroughly disgusted.
"Was your dad a hunter?" Negan asked.
"No," Sherry replied and pulled the trigger again. "He was a cop."
"Hmm," Negan practically scoffed at her answer but went on about shooting in his own lane. After several moments of shooting, Negan showed her other weapons as she tried her luck with an array of other guns. When she tried a couple of shots here and there, Negan would give her another gun to try on for size. "I wanted to give this one back to you," Negan said as he nodded towards one of his men while the man handed him Sherry's old Mossberg that she had when their camp was taken over by the Saviors.
Sherry looked at the gun with sadness then shook her head. "You can keep it," Sherry insisted and pretended that he didn't present it to her as she continued shooting with a pistol.
"You don't like it?" Negan asked.
"I just don't want it anymore. That's all," Sherry said while feigning disinterest. The gun reminded her of her refusal to put it down which led to Hannah's eventual death.
Negan shrugged in reply and placed it on the wall in front of him. "Fine, I'll take it," he muttered more to himself then went about his business. Sherry looked at the weapon with longing. That gun and her had been through a lot but she pretended to herself that it didn't bother her as much as it did. Negan took one last shot then looked to Sherry. "I'm done for the day. I'll drop you off at the house," Negan proclaimed and gestured for Sherry to follow. Sherry was slightly miffed that he didn't even ask her if she was finished but ignored it. Negan went to open the door as all guns fell silent once more. Outside the shooting range, Negan and Sherry took their ear plugs out and then walked outside.
…
Negan left her at the house while Yolanda and Jenna were there to greet her. Together they all looked for a piece of paper and a pen around the house as Sherry found some in Negan's office on the main floor. Sherry then stepped into her bedroom while Yolanda stood at the doorway with concern on her face.
"Your head injury, Sherry," Yolanda reminded. "It was hit pretty bad the night that they dragged us here. After you are done with that letter, please get some rest."
"I'll try," Sherry replied with a smile then looked to Jenna who stood next to her mother. "How was your first day of school here in Sanctuary?"
Jenna shrugged. "It's school," she responded but didn't act entirely enthusiastic about the situation. Yolanda grinned at her daughter then closed Sherry's door to insist that she sleep. To Sherry's knowledge, he would be gone until it was dark. She had plenty of time to write a letter without being suspect of anything.
Yolanda left and closed the door behind her. To her knowledge, Negan was going to be gone until dinner time. She had plenty of time to write a letter without being suspect of anything.
Dear Dwight,
It's not bold of you to say that. If I am being honest with myself, I think about you a lot during the day as well.
My side is a little difficult. Negan is trying to befriend me so perhaps we can delve into something deeper in the future…which unfortunately for him, it isn't going to happen. He killed Hannah and that's something that I don't have tolerance for.
I do look forward to your next letter. It was given me something to look forward to while we're in Sanctuary.
Negan has actually been more polite than I thought he would have been. I have my own bed while he goes to sleep in a different room altogether.
Whatever you do, please be careful. Negan has a lot of men and if he's suspicious of us, I don't see a way out of that predicament.
Sherry Ciccone
Sherry put down her pen and paper then folded it up in the same fashion that Dwight had done with the letter he gave her. She put in her pillowcase for the time-being as she started to eventually feel tired after all. The wound on the back of her head did make her feel exhausted but it was healing well. With the letter finished, she dozed off with an almost smile on her face. It made her glad to know that in less than a day's time that the letter would be in Dwight's possession. Soon, she thought as she started dreaming.
…
It was only Sherry, Dean, Takuya, and Haruki for the first two weeks. They slept in the woods among other displaced survivors that were scattered around the forests outside of Atlanta. It was unbelievable seeing how many people fled the city. The first night soon after they abandoned her car, they heard a loud explosion in the direction of the skyline. Sherry didn't turn around to see what was going on but knew that the supposed safe zone was no longer an option for anyone.
While in the woods, survivors were within twenty feet of each other in their own little camps. A couple of people decided to group up together and go further out of town. Sherry wasn't opposed to pairing up with more people but everyone around her was still making her nervous. She felt as if they were going to be infected with whatever the virus was. She also thought it would be better if there were less people that she became attached to. Sherry saw so much death in the first two weeks of the apocalypse. It was surreal and she hoped to see an end in sight. There was no order, no police telling them updates, no one calling the shots. Everyone was on their own.
Whenever they heard someone screaming or something equally sketchy from someone else's camp, they quickly moved on with their only belongings on their backs. Crowds were a frequent view for the first week but they quickly dwindled to nearly nonexistent. At first, they came across many other groups. In the first week, they would just pass each other without another thought and sometimes briefly mutter to each other to "hang in there," or shake their heads with a "what a life we live now." However as time went on and hunger set in, some groups became hostile. Dean and Sherry agreed to steer clear of some groups. Particularly, the groups that mostly consisted of men. Sherry didn't want to ignore groups with small children and usually gave them any rations that she had collected for herself. Once they went their separate ways, she silently would say a prayer that the kids would be okay.
Sherry had found a Mossberg from a car that they had scavenged while travelling to a different location. They learned quickly that if they were going to survive, they had to break some rules that weren't necessarily rules anymore. Sherry's group had ransacked empty cars that were left on the highways often.
One day their group came across a large lake. Sherry overlooked as far as her eye could see to scan for any people along the lakeside.
"Here," Dean said and gave her binoculars that he had in his backpack. "Your eyes are better for it."
Sherry took them and looked through them as she searched for anything that looked suspicious. The lake looked clear and clean to her as she heard Haruki all but throw himself in the water at the beautiful sight. Dean and Takuya laughed at Haruki's eagerness as Sherry kept searching for signs of walkers or threatening people. Then she noticed a small lake resort on the other side of the waterfront from where they stood. The place looked abandoned and had individual little cabins for two nestled into the woods. Sherry saw no signs of cars in its parking lot then looked to Dean with hope. "I think this is the best stroke of luck we had this whole time." Sherry commented with a smile and realized that it had probably been the first time she smiled since their ordeal began.
"Do you think others are there?" Haruki asked at the water side in between gulps.
"I guess we'll find out. But if there happens to be people, we could merge our group with theirs. Why not? Strength in numbers, right?" Sherry asked. Throughout the two weeks, she started to become less nervous of the living and felt more outnumbered with the dead. As much as she didn't want to join up with others that she didn't know, she felt her group didn't have any other choice if they wanted to survive for the long haul.
She searched through her bag and found what she needed then glanced at Haruki expectedly. Since their first car ride, Haruki's complaining was kept to a minimum but still would say a couple of things here and there that irked Sherry. Takuya seemed to adjust to their new life well enough so he was never on Sherry's bad side. Haruki on the other hand…
"Still don't believe in guns?" Sherry shouted towards him sarcastically.
Haruki stopped drinking the water and looked to Sherry's gun for a long time but said nothing.
Sherry rolled her eyes and held it up for him to take. "Look, Haruki. You need to learn how to use one of these to protect yourself. We won't always be there for you and have your back," she explained.
"But…" Haruki started to protest.
"Nope," Sherry said as she closed the distance between them and practically shoved the pistol in Haruki's hands. When he held it, he almost appeared somewhat defeated as Sherry let out a sigh. "Haruki," she began. "When I say that I won't always be there for you, it doesn't mean that I don't want to help you. I really want to. That's why I want you to learn how to use this. You need to prepare for a day that Dean, Takuya, and I will be dead and can no longer protect you. Are you ready for that?"
Haruki slowly shook his head but looked up to her in understanding. He put a tighter grip on the pistol as he placed it inside his pocket almost carelessly as Dean grimaced at the lack of care. Haruki turned around then led the way towards the cabins. Before Takuya followed, he gave Dean and Sherry a victorious smile with a thumbs up and was on his way.
"Is it loaded?" Dean asked Sherry as they slowly followed behind them.
"Absolutely not," Sherry replied. "Did you see how he just stuffed it in his pocket? He's not ready for ammunition."
Dean snickered as they walked along the muddy shore. "That was some tough love that you gave him but he needed to hear it," Dean praised.
"Yeah but we can't hold his hand forever," Sherry added.
"Did your parents teach you to be self-reliant?" Dean inquired lightheartedly but Sherry immediately felt a stab of pain at the mention of her family. Sherry didn't respond. Since her phone lost cell phone service, she kept quiet about her family. Whenever her group asked her about her personal life, a lump soon formed in her throat. She loved her parents. She was an only child and she knew that her parents were worried sick about her. But Sherry decided to remain focused on survival and to stay strong for her group. Talking about her life seemed like it would open up weaknesses around her wall that she was only trying to build.
When they reached the cabins, they each checked every area of the perimeter for danger. Every little cabin had a mattress and a bathroom. They all took their own cabins except for Takuya and Haruki who decided to share their own. For once, their group had experienced peace. Dean found fishing supplies and decided to catch some fish on the dock nearby. Sherry helped him as Dean spoke of his wife that lived in California. He was on a cross country motorcycle trip for his sixty-fifth birthday and retirement celebration with his buddies. While on the trip, his friends had all gotten sick except for him. He told Sherry that he had planned on making the trip back to see if his wife was okay but the flights were grounded.
"What's stopping you right now?" Sherry asked him while she sat on a lawn chair opposite of him on the dock. "Why don't you just walk until you find a car then use that car until you find another car and so on?"
Dean looked down to his fishing pole in thought as his mouth formed a tight line. "Because I am afraid of the outcome at the end of my journey. I'm afraid of all the outcomes that could happen. What if she's dead? What if she is already heading my direction and I miss her altogether? What if I make it and it's too late for me to help her?" He asked as his brows furrowed with grief. "I'm a coward, Sherry. I'm too afraid of 'what if's' to even go looking for my wife of who I have been married to for over four decades. What a gutless thing to do. And now she's all alone."
Sherry thought about what to say but didn't have any words to console him. She continued to fish alongside him until she could think of the right words to say. "Dean, I'm all by myself. I don't blame my family for not looking for me. The unknown is terrifying which is probably why I haven't tried to trek my way across the country. You are probably not on your way for the same reason that I am not heading towards them. This outbreak has killed a lot of people and fast. Odds are that my family is dead. They probably didn't even make it out of the suburb area. It's not cowardice to think that way, Dean. You're just being a realist. To be an optimist is dangerous nowadays," she explained quietly.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dean wipe at his cheeks but said nothing. After several moments had passed, he thanked her for her words as she nodded in return and reeled her fishing pole back in. She then set down the pole as she got up and patted Dean on the shoulder then left him alone with his thoughts. But more so, she needed time to think for herself.
She slowly walked away from the cabins and went to where they had first found the lake with her Mossberg in hand. She decided if walkers ended up stalking her that she would just jump in the water and hope that they couldn't swim. When she found the right place of seclusion, she sat on some large rocks and threw small pebbles into the lake. She grew mesmerized by the ripple effects while also becoming lost in her thoughts.
Sherry didn't open up about her family towards her group. Although it was something that Dean needed to hear for comfort, she vowed to never talk about her family again. It was physically painful to think about never seeing them again. She shoved the happy memories in the back of her head but they resurfaced almost as soon as she tried to bury them.
A sob came from her throat followed by tears that she quickly tried to wipe away as if the burst of emotion didn't even happen. But she soon became a waterfall of tears and couldn't control it anymore. She cried openly for several minutes and took deep breaths as she wished the pain would go away so she didn't have to live with it. Vincent and Annie Ciccone were the best people that she had ever known. They were great members of the community and did what they could to provide for Sherry's extended family in the Chicago area. They were beacons and examples whom Sherry sought guidance from nearly every day. The first two weeks were rough and not seeing her parents was a large portion of that difficulty.
Just when she was about to collect herself, she heard footsteps behind her in the near distance. She froze as she carefully reached for her gun that rested at her feet. She concentrated on the footsteps as they sounded even – unlike a walker's random shuffling. She didn't know who the person was but she needed to seem intimidating enough so the intruder would know not to mess with her. In a swift motion, she picked up the gun and turned around to immediately take aim.
The footsteps belonged to a man that walked aimlessly in the forest. He noticed her immediate response to him and stopped in his tracks as she slowly stood up. Sherry watched him lean down slowly to put his crossbow on the ground then stood straight up with his hands in the air.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He whispered. It almost sounded like he came upon a wild house hat was about to trample in his direction. She stared at him, unwilling to put down her gun. "I'm just passing through. I don't want any trouble," he said in a calming tone. "Can you put your gun down?"
"Where are you headed?" Sherry asked as she observed everything about him. He wore jeans that had blood splattered in various places. He wore a blue t-shirt with no print or pattern on it. A beard had started to form on his face from the lack of shaving and weeks on the road. He had short brown curly hair and was very tall. She couldn't tell for sure from the distance but he looked to have had brown eyes. She could see by his countenance that he didn't look too dangerous. She was a good judge of character and could tell that he stood by his word and wasn't looking for trouble.
He looked to her with a mournful gaze. "I don't really have a destination in mind. I was with some friends of mine and none of them made it. I was kind of hoping that I would just stumble on another group. Maybe a safe zone if there is one," he answered honestly.
Sherry kept her gun aimed at him but saw the sincerity behind his words. He looked exhausted and like he just endured hell. After minutes had passed, she finally relented and dropped her gun and slung the strap on her back. "I have a group over at that resort over there," she said then pointed across the lake. "Would you like to be with us for a bit?"
He smiled gratefully and put his hands down then reached down for his crossbow. "I would appreciate that. Thanks, miss," he said gratefully as he walked slowly towards her.
She stepped towards him and outstretched her hand. "My name is Sherry," she introduced herself with a small smile.
"It's nice to meet you, Sherry," He said with his own grin. "I'm Dwight." Dwight looked to her and shook her hand. Then with concern, he gazed at her face which made her feel exposed. She figured he must have seen her crying earlier or observed her tear-stained cheeks. "Are you okay?" He asked.
"I'll be fine," Sherry replied somewhat confidently as she guided him towards their camp.
During their walk, Sherry would steal sideways glances at the newcomer. From what she noticed, he looked to be close to her age or was slightly older. He was taller than she was by at least a foot. He had a confident walk about him even though his eyes appeared like he had more than his fair share of newfound grief. She supposed everyone wore that look that was a mixture of shock and sadness.
Every so often she would try and look at him and she would see that he was already looking at her. They would exchange awkward eye contact as she would break the gaze while her face flared red. She felt embarrassed for being caught in the act of staring although she didn't know why she felt abashed for it. She was entitled to observe someone.
"So how long have you guys been here?" Dwight asked her while trying to stir up conversation.
"We just found this place a few hours ago. All the cabins have their own mattresses and bathrooms. It's going to be nice to sleep on one for once," Sherry commented while noticing the sun going down.
"Amen to that. Since this whole thing started, it's been the forest floor for me," Dwight commented as Sherry admitted to herself that she liked the sound of his voice. It was gentle but demanded everyone's attention when he spoke. At least it demanded her attention.
They had reached the camp as Haruki and Takuya were collecting firewood to cook the fish that Dean had caught. Almost in unison, they all looked up to Sherry approaching a new group member. They were surprised but not necessarily alarmed at his presence when they saw Sherry's attitude towards him.
"This is Dwight," Sherry started. "I found him while I was scouting the area and he'll be with us from here on out." She pointed to all the members. "That's Haruki. And that's Takuya. And this is Dean." They all gave him some small waves as Dean smiled widely towards Dwight.
"Good thing that I caught a lot of fish. You hungry, son?" Dean asked.
"I haven't had anything filling for days," Dwight said as he relaxed on a wooden lounge chair next to the fire that Takuya was successfully maintaining as its flames were growing.
"Don't eat too much. Your appetite is a lot bigger than your stomach right now. So you might get full sooner than you think," Sherry said as she sat and leaned next to a tree.
"Noted," Dwight said then glanced at her with a smirk. Sherry couldn't help but notice the flirtation in his tone as she tried to wave it off as nothing out of the ordinary.
They cooked and ate fish while everyone exchanged stories of their lives before. Everyone except Sherry who only listened and smiled at the other group members and their upbringing or the things that they missed the most.
Like clockwork, Sherry would see Dwight's attention avert to her from her peripherals. He would look for a couple of seconds and then look to whoever was speaking at the time. Sherry refused to look back at him only to avoid eye contact that would ensue after he was caught staring at her. She also assumed that if she was the first woman that Dwight had seen in a week that she was probably looking like Angelina Jolie at that point. She grinned to herself at the lame and very distant comparison.
She hoped they would find others meandering in the woods with nowhere to go and that they could grow to be their own group and defend each other. She knew that could be the start of something good in their world.
…
She woke up to someone touching her face. Confused by the sensation in her half-asleep daze, she turned in bed to see Negan bending down and caressing her face. Sherry was immediately wide awake and weirded out as she crawled to the other side of the bed and completely annoyed that he was invading her personal space.
"Hi," he said simply with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.
"How long was I asleep for?" She asked as she looked out the window and saw that it was pitch black outside.
"About six hours. It's common though. With that gash on the back of your head, you need to sleep often. Dinner is ready to eat downstairs when you're ready. I'll see you in a couple of minutes," Negan said. With that, he turned on his heel and left the room.
It made Sherry uncomfortable that she didn't even hear him enter the room, let alone the house. She thought that she was a lighter sleeper than that but knew to sleep with one eye open from then on. She walked through the hallway upstairs as she heard the front door downstairs open then slam shut followed by shouts at the front of the house. Wondering what commotion was, Sherry hurried her steps on the stairs then looked outside the window next to the front door. Negan was fighting an older man in the middle of the street. The man appeared to not be blowing any punches in return as he just let Negan hit him.
Sherry opened the door and ran to the fence as she stood with the gathering crowd. Negan was on top of the man while punching him over and over again. The man looked to be nearly passed out and exhausted but didn't fight back. No one even tried to stop Negan. The man had to have been ten years younger than Sherry's grandmother which made her all the more frightened for him. The man was already so frail.
"Negan!" Sherry shouted. Negan landed a couple more blows after she had called out his name. Either he had selective hearing or chose not to respond. The man beneath him was starting to pass out in a bloody pulp. "NEGAN!" Sherry yelled again. She didn't dare touch him to try and stop him. He was drenched in the man's blood and Sherry was terrified of the man that had stroked her cheek only minutes ago.
The man below finally went limp as he dozed off into a pain induced slumber. Negan looked around at the people surrounding his little outburst. "Get back to whatever the fuck you were doing. Leave him be," Negan ordered as he stood up and motioned to the man lying in the middle of the street.
He passed by Sherry without a word and headed for the house. Sherry followed slowly as she looked to everyone else who in turn were staring at her. Some people chanted Negan's name and applauded. Some feared him. She feared for herself as she took more steps towards the house.
She opened the door and closed it quietly while hearing noise in the upstairs bathroom. The door was open as Sherry walked up the stairs then wondered how she should approach him. She saw him in the doorway with his shirt off which was in a bloody heap in the middle of the bathroom floor. Usually she would have admired a man that was as nicely toned as he was however it only frightened her more. If they ever fought each other, he would have won.
Negan washed his hands as he made a face but then looked up to her with an apologetic smile. "Did you see all of that shit?" He asked hesitantly while almost embarrassed to ask.
Sherry could see his knuckles bleeding and could deduce that they were in terrible shape. "You need to bandage those up, Negan. They look really bad," Sherry advised with trepidation. Her voice shook as she tried to get ahold of herself.
He glanced down at his hands and snickered softly. "Yeah," he agreed then looked up to her with pleading eyes. "Can you help me, Sherry? I've tried to bandage knuckles all by myself before. It's too fucking difficult," Negan asked as he looked at her hopefully.
"Yeah," she said in a higher breathless octave that sounded slightly nervous. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to figure out what to say next. She didn't know how much she was shaking until she reached for the first aid kit that she saw Negan had already opened next to the sink. He calmly reached for her head and paused while she looked up to him in question.
"Sherry, he had it coming. I was only giving him what he asked for," Negan uttered quietly. He brought her into an awkward hug but Sherry didn't reciprocate his affection.
"What did he do?" Sherry inquired.
"He beat me in a ping pong game last night," He explained quickly as he shouldered past her then headed downstairs with the first aid kit in hand. Sherry was left shocked as she slowly followed Negan while thinking to herself how unhinged he was.
When she walked to the main floor and into the kitchen, she saw that Negan was already at the small table with a bowl of soup right next to him. "Grab yourself a bowl. In between bites you can help me out," he said as he took a bite of his own.
"What an appetizing activity while eating," Sherry said sarcastically.
Negan laughed. "Yeah, I was just hungry. You can wait to eat after if you don't want to multitask," he offered.
"I think I will take that option," Sherry said as she found towels in a kitchen drawer and soaked them in hot water from the sink. "So how do you guys have running water?" She thought to ask.
"We have people in charge of that. That is their job to keep the electricity going and that we always have water," Negan answered then took another bite.
"It's nice," Sherry stated honestly as she headed over to him with the towels and also a large bowl of hot water. She took his left hand and rested it on the table in front of her. She then took the moist towel and held it over his hand while preparing some ointment that was inside the first aid kit.
"Ready?" She asked timidly.
"Sherry, I have already fucked up my knuckles pretty bad before. Just fucking go for it," he said as he scooped up more soup.
"Fine," Sherry mumbled and without hesitating placed the towel right on top of his hand. She started to rub off the blood around his wounds as he cursed under his breath. She kneaded her fingers into places where the blood was being stubborn and wasn't trying to be gentle about it.
"Bitch, that fucking hurts," Negan complained in a whisper and his grinded together. He was trying so hard to keep his patience at a good level while Sherry decided to be gentler to avoid Negan slapping her across the face. She started massaging his hand a bit as she could feel his muscles relax. "Now that almost feels nice," he commented.
"Good," She replied while concentrating on her task as she started to bandage his knuckles.
It was quiet for a while as Negan stared at her face. Sherry avoided his gaze while she continued with her work. He then broke the silence and leaned forward slightly with a grin. "You going to tell me when you're ready to screw around?" He teased.
The sliver of peace that she had felt from the interaction before was completely shattered as he hurdled that curve ball at her. She glared up to him in annoyance and with warning in her eyes.
Negan put his right hand up in defense. "Okay, not tonight. I get it," he leaned towards her again. "But you will tell me when you're ready, right?" He asked her.
Sherry shrugged and gazed into his eyes to make sure that she was understood. "Just know that it might be awhile until that day comes," Sherry said but didn't mention that that moment could possibly never come.
He sighed and then took another bite of soup. "I'll take whatever I fucking can get," he replied with a small chuckle.
…
Night came and she was handcuffed to the frame like the previous eve before. She slept soundly and was again woken up by Yolanda who had another list of chores for that day. The list was a little bit longer than the other but it gave them something to do to get their minds off of their personal hell.
Yolanda stood watch as Sherry added a side note for Dwight.
P.S. Please be careful if you ever play anything competitive with Negan. He is a sore loser.
P.P.S. Also, you said that you can't see me. Why is that?
