Warnings: Language, violence

Word Count:

Chapter 7: ( Amelia's Perspective )

"Connor is back."

I look up to Simons face; he's turned white. He slowly releases my hand and walks over to Cam's car without a word. Confused as hell, I raise my arm in question. Who is Connor? As I'm left out of the loop, I turn my body to each of them, waiting for someone to speak first. My eyes drift to Negan's and I can't help swallowing in a deep gulp. His eyes have narrowed to the point of becoming small black holes. Clenching his jaw, he stares into Cam with one of the most dangerous glares I've ever seen.

Without warning, Negan walks over to Dwight and takes his arm a few feet away from me. I try my best to listen to their words, wanting desperately to understand. Negan then quickly turns to me and flashes a faint smile. Looking at the creases on his forehand, he's barely keeping everything together. "Keep it up princess. Impress me later." As he passes me, I try to catch a glimpse of Simon in the truck; he's looking at his hands in his lap. I want to yell to him, but something tells me it would just make things worse. Cam peals out of the parking lot, leaving Dwight and I alone.

Shaking my head, I turn to Dwight for an explanation. "Who the fuck is Connor, Dwight?" I cross my arms as best as I can to look serious. He walks over to me and takes the gun from my back pocket and starts to reload it. "Answer me dammit!" I don't want to yell at Dwight, but I hate not knowing things, especially if it makes Simon and Negan go white with fear. "We're just going to focus on getting you trained right now." He moves past me handing me the gun, briefly looking over his shoulder to see if I'm following. "I fucking mean it Dwight." I stand my ground; call it stubbornness.

"Yeah and I mean it too. Not now Amelia." Damn. So it can't be that life threatening right? Simon would've said something…right? "Now I want to see if you can hit a moving target." Dwight leads me to an auto shop a few stores down from the restaurant. It has dark green vines and moss growing in curvy patterns along the sides. I stare up into the beautiful blue sky; I can't get Connor out of my head.

Dwight makes his way by the garage door with his gun ready. "You ready hot shot?" He smirks and lifts the lever. He moves so fast behind the building, out of my sight, catching me off guard. The right side of body leans back in anticipation.

The Georgia heat fries my exposed skin causing bullets of sweat to pour down my body. My eyes scan the half open garage door looking for any sign of danger. I hear a few low growls and my eyes widen.

"Dwight what the fuck!" I scream as a couple of rotters slowly creep out of the garage. The first one out has a missing jaw and its tongue hangs out swinging in the air. My adrenaline runs from my chest, through my veins, down to my hands. I lift my gun fast shooting twice, hitting the two that came out. That son of a bitch! I still hear another loud growl from inside the shop. Running to the side of the garage door, I wait with my gun held high.

It seems like a life time of waiting by the door for the monsters to come out. Fuck this! Swooping under the door I straighten my arm pulling the trigger. One, two, three… they drop. I turn to find one slowly turning my way. Click…clickwhat the hell? My gun is empty. Seems like déjà vu. Taking action I scramble to see anything I can use. Drill…nope! The rotter gets closer to me as I struggle to find anything to bash this fucker's skull in. Most of these things need electricity.

"Fuck!" The rotter gets ahold of my jacket trying to tear away the fabric. Trying to get away I backup slamming my back into a shelf. My injured arm reaches back to brace myself, but the pain is too intense for me to handle; I go down. The rotter's hands desperately try to claw into my skin. Just one of my hands holds the rotter up whilst the other tries to find something to kill it with. My hand finds something cold; I grab it and force the object into the rotter's skull with one hard swing. The body falls onto mine pinning me down. There's blood and guts all over my jacket. Fucking gross.

I'm left gasping for air as I try to push that piece of shit off me. I look over to the corpse and realize I stabbed that thing with a tire pressure gauge. I laugh to myself and soon realize there could be more; I fling my head up only to see Dwight with his arms crossed. "You know, people usually don't go in at all, but hey!" He has the biggest smile on his face, a white rage takes over.

I rise up fast, charging him. "What the fuck Dwight? No fucking warning? I could've died!"

He raises his hands as if he was innocent. "Look everyone goes through this, you were treated no differently." I stare at him for a long while, trying to get my anger to go down. Dwight's face looks amused and for a split second I think about knocking him down, but from the look of his smile, I'd say he's impressed. It all happened so fast, I stand still trying to calm my body down.

"I better have fucking passed you piece of shit." I shoulder check him as I start walking the direction we came from.

"Hey, look you did really well! You have bigger balls then anyone I've seen train. I bet you could kick a lot of guy's asses." Dwight catches up and gives me a pat on the shoulder. He laughs so hard he holds his stomach. I stop and turn around to see him crouched over trying to gain his breath back. Rolling my eyes I keep walking back home.

Home…?

"Look I'm sorry I just imagined you kicking Simon's ass and I about died." I can tell he wants to go through his little laughing fit again, but soon, both our attention is at the front gate.

There's a younger teenager holding a rifle on guard. He has dark skin with a small afro; he smiles as he sees us walking up. He's too young for this shit. "Hey Jordan, just got back from training Miss Am. Everything okay in there?" His small smile fades away as he clears his throat. "Connors back and they're all in Negan's office." I watch Dwight as Jordan speaks; Dwight flinches as he speaks the name 'Connor'.

A bit of anger arises in me that this 14 year old knows more than me. I'm so entitled. But things are different now; it could be life or death. I need to know what's going on and I know where to find it. I start to speed walk into the Sanctuary, passing unfamiliar faces. I hear Dwight yell after me, but I don't look up.

I never stopped to really look at how dreary this place really is. The people of the Sanctuary have heavy faces, exhausted from working. The walls made of concrete are a kind of grey that makes you depressed. This place has so many rooms, it's like a maze. Finally, I make it to Simon's room. His room is lit up from the hot sun; I can see all the dust flowing in his room. It's a bit messier then I expected. There's a big pile of clothes on his bed; that I push off to sit. As long as it takes, I need answers.

After several hours of waiting for him to get back to his room, he finally comes in just as I'm drifting off. He drags his feet across the room avoiding my eyes. Moving to his closet he flings the door open and starts looking through the pile of shirts on the ground. "Gah!" He yells and slams the door shut so hard it comes open again. I start to stand when he points a finger to me to hush. "I'm not in the mood to talk, I'm sorry." He sounds so defeated, I can't push him.

Without thinking I make my way over to him extending my arms. He stands still with his eyes blank as I forcefully wrap my arms around him as best as I can. I nuzzle my head in the crook of his neck and slowly speak. "You know, you can trust me, with anything. I'm here." His arms glide up from my hips to my shoulders pushing me back a little to look into my eyes. Suddenly my heart starts racing as his touch tingles down to my spine. I've only known him for a short time but I love being around him. A little too much… Living in the world I live in today, I can't blame my feelings; life is too short.

As he stares into my eyes he leans his head forward to mine, as if asking permission to kiss me. Without asking, my body moves into his, filling any space between us. His lips meet my forehead as his hand travels down to hold mine. My lips pull in, disappointed they weren't used.

Still holding me he speaks, in a hushed voice. "Will you stay with me for a while?"

I hardly noticed we we're lightly swaying together in the middle of his room. With my heart still racing I manage to mumble "of course Simon."

To my shock Simon makes his way over to his bed and clears off the rest of the clothes. He's messing with something in front of him. My heart might explode at this point. "Is this okay?" I nod my head instead of speaking because I don't know what I will say. His muscles are completely toned in a way that isn't too bulky. Simon climbs into his bed shirtless and lifts up the covers for me to get in.

Does he expect anything to happen? Do I except anything to happen? What the fuck does this mean? Is this crossing a line? Am I sweating? How is he that ripped? He's just staring at you waiting for you! What if I don't want to go this fast?

Simon chuckles and rolls over to the other side of the bed. I silently breathe out walking over the bed. This is normal. Not like you haven't been this close to a person in over a year or anything. Taking off my shoes and my bloody jacket I slip into the covers facing his back. My instinct is to run my finger down his back or slide closer to him but I stay on my side completely frozen.

I feel his left hand reach over and grab mine placing it around him. This forces me to be completely smooshed into him. I completely underestimated how lonely I am. I melt into his warm skin. My stomach whirls with this new sensation. I've never been the big spoon.

"Amelia it's okay." She looks at me with a loving expression. "Amelia listen, I love you."

My eyes fling open to feel Simon's hands completely wrapped around me. I slowly and quietly turn to see if he's awake. He has a string of drool connected with his mouth and his pillow. He looks so cute sleeping. I turn my head smiling at how young he looks. His hair is sticking out four different ways; I bit lip running my two fingers through one of his spikes. Looking out the window I see night has fallen. I need to talk to Negan; he seems to be the only person left to tell me what I need to know.

As I look back at Simon's face I carefully grab his arms and place them on his chest. He suddenly coughs and turns to the other side of the bed warranting a silent sigh. Grabbing my old beaten boots I make my way to Negan's room.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" I place my ear to his door to hear if they're any other voices. Nope.

My hand drifts to the handle then turns to open to Negan's study. My eyes widen to see his head resting on his arm completely sprawled out on his desk. The now empty bottle of scotch he offered me the other day is completely empty aside from the freshly poured glass. "I told you to fuck off!" He says without raising his head.

"Negan, can we talk?" I'm starting to rethink this.

With a forced laugh he shoots up his head and smiles. "Amelia, what a pleasure, as always."

Making my way over to him my head leans back at the smell. It smells like he bathed in alcohol. "I know you're dealing with a lot, but I want to know what's going on." I sit beside him grabbing his full glass and taking a sip.

"It that fucking so? Why the fuck should I tell you any fucking thing?" His speech is slightly slurred, yeah I've been there too bud.

"Because maybe I can help…" I take a gulp and purse my lips at the taste. "Aright listen, call me fucking nosey but all three of you went fucking cold at Connor's name." Negan glares at me when I mention his name. "Look I'm going to be pretty annoying if you don't tell me what's going on." I say as I cross my legs.

"You might be already there sweetheart." He laughs.

"Look I'm not trying to get the whole fucking Sanctuary in an uproar so you're shit out of luck." He shrugs and goes to grab the glass that is now in my hands.

"Negan. Tell me now." I keep my voice low with an edge to it.

"Will you get the fuck out of my face if I do?" I nod in response.

"Fucking hell, you're difficult. Look Connor and five of my men went out to check on a camp. They were supposed to be back a week ago, so we all assumed the worst. Now that fucker is back covered in blood saying they let him go to send me a fucking message." He suddenly stands towering over me and starts screaming in my face. "ME! Can you fucking believe that fucking shit? Send me a fucking message; boy have I got something for you!" He stands up swaying from side to side trying to grab his baseball bat.

"Woah there!" I grab his bat and move behind his desk. "Okay, let's get you in bed."

"So you want me in bed huh? All you had to do was ask!" He laughs loudly hurting my ears.

"Shut the fuck up, where's your bed?" I say looking around the room. Finally, I see a door on the other side of the room behind Negan. Okay, not in the mood to play this game. I set the bat behind his desk and slowly make my way over to him. Placing a hand on his shoulder I try and lead him to his room. He grabs my hip and spins me around taking my hand in a tango stance. "Negan!" I yell trying to get him off me.

"You don't wanna dance with your king princess?" He laughs again shaking his head as he lets go of me. I stare back at him dumbfounded. All I wanted to do was get my information and go. But you can't do simple shit here. "Now it's you taking care of me! Fucking weird! You sure as hell better hope I don't fucking puke everywhere because that shit is a bitch to clean up!" As the last three words leave his mouth he leans back for emphasis, but he leans a little too far back and stumbles.

I grab his hand and walk him over to his bed. He falls into his bed halfway hanging off. I can't believe I'm doing this for him, I guess I owe him…

Taking off his shoes, I look up to his face to see he's already asleep. Where the fuck are his wives when you need them? I cover him with his dark gray sheets and make my way toward the door. My eyes meet a fancy glass pitcher filled with water. "Ugh, fine." I take the pitcher over to his bed and write a little note. "We're Even-Steven." I smirk as I make my way out into the hallway.

So there's another group in the picture. And they killed our people as a message. Did we do anything to deserve it? A whirl of thoughts flood my brain as I make my way to Simon's room. As I open the door, I hear a light snore and find myself just staring at him. It felt so nice to be with him, he didn't push for anything else but to be close to me. I sigh and make my way over to the bed. As I climb into the covers his eyes flutter open looking at me. He smiles and wraps his arms around me and falls right back asleep. He's a pretty good way to end a shitty day. I could get use to this…