Devastation
By Althea M
Chapter 3
I'm sitting at the top of the stairs. The odor of the food is enticing, but I don't want to see or talk to anyone. My stomach is complaining traitorously, but I'm going to wait until they have largely cleared out. Everyone was downstairs. They'd begun gathering together every evening for meals. I guess they kind of wanted to count heads; make sure no one else was missing.
Negan had made his promised visit a week ago, two weeks after the events in the clearing, carrying his bat on his shoulder. I still wasn't of much use; all snarling, ineffectual anger. Michonne sat on me to keep me, as she said, 'from doing something really, really dangerous, for all of us'. It wasn't pleasant for either one of us. I could hear Negan make threats while strutting about, but he didn't need to. The Alexandrians had quantities of their goods waiting at the gate for him. No one made threats against him or acted belligerently. Negan then ordered them to load the supplies up. "Rather like cutting your own switch", he laughed. The entire event took less than an hour. "I'll see ya'll in about two months," he sang out, as his vehicle rolled away and the gates to Alexandria closed. As the gates closed, I broke down again. I don't know how long I sobbed in Michonne's arms before I fell into a fitful sleep
Daryl returned the next day. I saw him come up the walk with Rick at his side. Both were moving at that slow pace people have when they've been off their feet for a while. From my bedroom window I could see that Daryl favored his wounded shoulder. He didn't have his crossbow. I think I almost chuckled. 'He still looks badass', I thought. I wondered how hard his recovery had been. I thought, 'he'll be better long before I am'. I rested my head against the window pane. I could still smell the shampoo she used, the scent of her skin on her pillow that I held close to my chest. I had to get better. I had to get back to being me again. Me, without Maggie. Not the me that Maggie met. I'm harder now. I would die for her. But I didn't; she died for me, in my place. I wish I could stop crying.
I need to get my legs under me again. I'd been a useful, competent member of the team. I wasn't pulling my weight. I decided then, that I would get back to life. I had things to do. Promises to keep.
