Chapter 12
Negan observed Sherry from the other side of the table as she waited for him to respond to what she said. He and his men were shocked to see what literally laid before them when they returned to Sanctuary. Dwight and Sherry didn't really know what to say. Some of them men even went to say that they were glad to see the man, named Alex, gone. Negan let Dwight off the hook and sent him on his way and guided Sherry back into his house. It was there that they went into the kitchen where he calmly asked her to explain what happened.
She summed it up as self-defense and that Alex wanted to take advantage of her. She fought him as Dwight stumbled upon their brawl and disposed of the man. It wasn't far from the truth and it was what Negan wanted to hear.
When she was done with her side of the story, Negan continued to study her face to see if the story carried its authenticity by the way that she acted. Sherry remained in her spot and looked him straight in the eye to almost challenge him in his search to find a flaw. Her nose was broken and her face was battered. What more information could he need?
They then heard a sound as a Savior came into the house with Terri following behind. When Terri rounded the corner to see Sherry sitting at the kitchen table, she gasped and put a hand to her mouth. "Sherry!" Terri exclaimed as she sat her backpack on the table and cupped Sherry's face in both of her hands. "What happened?"
The front door opened again. Whoever it was didn't come inside the kitchen so Sherry couldn't see who it was but then heard Dwight's voice as he spoke to someone at the main entrance of Negan's house. Negan gave a small smile to Sherry and left the kitchen.
"You wanted to see me, Negan?" She heard Dwight ask as Terri placed all of her supplies that she needed on the kitchen table to help fix Sherry's nose. Terri brought many washcloths with her as she placed those on Sherry's lap and immediately put one under Sherry's chin. Blood wasn't flowing like it was only moments before but Sherry was sure that she still looked like a mess.
"I wanted you to tell me what went down but Sherry explained everything already," Negan said to Dwight as Sherry leaned her ear close to the kitchen entrance to eavesdrop. "You saved my wife and her honor. You've done right in my book. I just wanted to thank you."
"How is she doing?" Dwight asked while Sherry could hear his voice sounded very tired.
"Terri is with her now," Negan told. "She has a broken nose but Terri said that she could fix it." They spoke in quieter tones or moved to a place further away as Sherry could no longer hear their conversation.
"Blow your nose in that washcloth," Terri instructed as she gestured to the washcloth under Sherry's chin.
Sherry looked wary at the very notion and didn't even know if she had the ability to blow her nose at that point.
Terri saw the look of trepidation and stared at Sherry intently. "It'll be a little painful but there is a lot of mucous and blood stored in there," she reasoned. "It all needs to come out."
Sherry sighed and lightly touched her nose with the washcloth. She blew her nose countless times and just as Terri predicted, a lot of blood came out for three washcloths to be stained with red throughout the process. Once there wasn't any more, they were both satisfied that the inside of her nose was clean enough to continue.
"I am going to rub some lidocaine cream on and around your noise," Terri informed. "It should numb your nose to help us further into the process." She started dabbing it on a fresh washcloth.
Sherry smiled slightly. "You don't have to tell me what you're doing, Terri," she assured. "I trust you."
Terri grinned back and made a face. "It's a habit," she said simply as she started gently rubbing the lidocaine on Sherry's nose. "To avoid being sued, we would have to walk patients through every process of a procedure. There was always a chance that a patient thought that they knew what was best. Sometimes they did. But we just wanted to avoid the nasty lawsuits."
Sherry's nose was already starting to hurt only from Terri touching it. "I promise that I won't sue you," she teased through gritted teeth.
Terri winked at her as she went to work. She sat for several minutes and looked down at the notes that she jotted down. "Do you feel a tingle yet?" She asked.
"Yeah," Sherry responded. "It's numb and ready to go."
"Good!" Terri uttered and immediately put both her index fingers and thumbs in a triangular shape and placed them on each side of Sherry's nose. "I want you to inhale through your mouth and exhale with your nose. This might take a while and I'm going to tell you exactly what I'm doing just for kicks and giggles, okay?"
Sherry gave a brief nod of understanding. She was curious how Terri was going to fix it anyways.
"Okay," Terri began. "Start the breathing like how I told you to and listen to me and my words. It'll help you not focus on the pain."
Sherry did what Terri instructed. With every slow inhale and exhale, Terri slowly moved parts of her nose with both index fingers fitting snugly against it. "Broken noses are routine for me. I think as a nurse, I dealt with two broken noses every week. They mostly came from bar fights that broke out. Now just because I dealt with them often, doesn't make them an easy fix. What makes it easy is the bones that are inside your nose. They are moldable and simple to form back. What I am doing is realigning it. Without this process, your nose would grow back crooked and it could cause breathing problems. We want to keep your face pretty and we want you to breathe. So we are going to make this baby as straight as possible," Terri said it all with a smile to try and keep Sherry distracted.
The front door opened and closed as she saw Negan step back into the kitchen as he searched through the cabinets to produce two shot glasses as he placed them on the counter. He then turned around and leaned against the fridge as he watched Terri work.
Every so often Terri's adjustment to Sherry's nose would make her eyes water. She tried not to move her face but sometimes Terri's reshaping would be too painful for her to take. Her hands were in fists to help relieve the stress that she felt. With the adrenaline during the fight, it didn't seem as severe but with every second that her heart rate went back to normal, she was hyper aware of how bruised her body began to feel from the scuffle.
Terri made eye contact with Sherry briefly while Sherry could see the affliction that they both shared. With Negan back, their escape would be postponed for a little while longer. Sherry hoped that they would have been able to sneak out the following day since their supplies were all in the secret stash but with Negan back, that goal diminished quickly. The disappointment was heavy on their little group. She could see it in Terri's eyes.
Terri brought her hands down from Sherry's face and examined her work. "Looks good if I say so myself!" She exclaimed with mild pride. "I am going to wrap this up." Terri then turned to Negan to address him. "Do you have ice here?"
Negan stood up straight to open the freezer door as he nodded. "Yes, ma'am, indeed I do," he answered.
Terri got out a zip lock bag from her supplies as Negan placed ice inside of it for her. "That will help with swelling throughout the night. If you have any extra pillows, that'll help Sherry's nose from getting backed up with gunk. She'll be a snorer for the next couple of weeks."
"I'll take care of her," Negan assured Terri as he looked at Sherry with some concern. Sherry avoided his gaze as he didn't often stare at her like that. He almost seemed human when he looked at her like that.
Terri smiled towards him but Sherry could still detect the worry in her eyes. Sherry tried to give a silent message to Terri that she would be alright. They exchanged glances one more time as Terri started getting bandages from her bag. They both hoped that Sherry didn't have to spend another night with Negan. Nevertheless, they had to grin and bear it.
…
Terri left once the bandage was in place on her nose. Sherry kept the lidocaine cream as it sat on the table while she waited to go to bed. Negan brought the shot glasses that he got previously and also placed them on the table in front of Sherry. He then rummaged through the kitchen cabinets and opened his personal alcohol stash. Facing her with a wink, he walked back and sat beside her. "It looks like you could use a drink," he offered and presented the Cuervo bottle.
Sherry glimpsed up at Negan's face to see if he had any ulterior motives. However, the idea of drinking alcohol did sound appealing to her as it would numb the pain that she felt even more. She also didn't want to deal with the heartbreak of their escape not happening in the near future. A distraction sounded exactly like something she needed. "You know what? That is not the worst idea in the world. I could really use a drink."
Negan smiled wide as his dimples showed behind his usual five o'clock shadow that he sported. "Know of any shot games that we could play?" He inquired as he started to pour the liquid into the individual glasses.
"I am in the mood for a drink," Sherry complained. "Not for games."
He shrugged. "Just a thought. We don't have to if you don't want to." Negan handed her a glass and instantly drank back his own. She did the same but couldn't hide scrunching up her face at the taste.
"Not a tequila girl, I take it?" Negan asked with a smirk from her reaction.
"I've never really been a drinker," Sherry confessed. "I did like red wine before though. But I guess beggars can't be choosers anymore, right?"
Negan watched her for a moment before he stood up and went back to his stash. After searching for several moments he produced a wine bottle with a cork screw. "For you, my lady," he presented and started opening it for her.
Sherry couldn't conceal her some happiness that she had from seeing it; much to her dismay. "If I only knew that was there earlier," she said in amazement.
"Then it would be long gone by now," he teased as he twisted the screw once more as it opened. "Red wine, huh? You are the sophisticated drinker then." Negan put the bottle before her then retrieved a wine glass for her as well.
"Thanks," Sherry said while genuinely grateful and took the glass from his hand. "I guess so. I just prefer the taste. My parents always let me sip some during special events. If I ever missed home while I was in college, I would get some wine. For nostalgic reasons."
"What kind of special events?" Negan asked while seeming intrigued by her ramblings.
Sherry then started to feel uncomfortable while thinking that she was bonding with the enemy. "Um, weddings, baptisms, stuff like that," she explained.
"Were you Catholic?" He questioned.
Sherry nodded but appeared confused in how he would know that. "How did you guess?"
"Wine and baptisms," Negan responded. "I feel like Catholics try and bring the wine out whenever they have the opportunity to."
Sherry poured herself some wine as Negan filled up his shot glass. "I guess. It's a very Italian thing to do, that's for sure."
"Italian?" Negan said while he seemed to perk up from the revelation and whistled. He then drank a second shot and looked at Sherry with even more appeal in his eyes. "It could be the alcohol talking but that makes you all the more attractive."
"It's the alcohol," Sherry reasoned evenly and drank her wine. Memories immediately started flooding back of simpler times with her family. Surprisingly, tears sprang from her eyes as she tried to wipe them away quickly and then drank more to drown the inner despair that she felt. She then looked to Negan who was staring at her with remorse. She didn't know whether to feel insulted that he was taking pity on her because he was the majority of the problem.
"Negan…" Sherry started as she tried to think of what to say. If she was catching him in a moment where he was feeling sorry for her, she chose to ask him some questions that he would open up to in that small window of opportunity that she had.
"Negan, why me?" She asked softly and placed her glass down on the table. As she asked, his face almost twisted into some expression of sadness for her. "Why did you choose me to be your wife?"
As if deep in thought, he put his shot glass down and leaned against his seat. Negan took a deep breath then reached for one of Sherry's hands that was resting on her lap. He turned her hand over and started tracing the lines in her palm delicately then glanced back up to her. "This won't make sense to say it out loud," he began. "But when I saw you… I wanted you. I wanted to touch you, kiss you… I wanted someone. I would have done anything to have you."
Momentarily resting his gaze on her body, Sherry responded to his answer by drinking her disgust away with another sip of wine. His words hurt more than she expected them to. He didn't take her into consideration. Not that she thought he did before but his revelation all but confirmed it. He didn't deserve her affection if she ever gave it to him. She wasn't the kind of person to tolerate that kind of behavior. Yet, in Sanctuary, she had no choice.
It was odd. On the other hand, she could tell Negan meant what he said. He didn't say it in a harsh way but rather it had a feel of warmth to it. It should have repulsed her even more. In a way it did. However, the other part of her believed that he was trying his personal best. Don't sympathize with him, Sherry thought. What's wrong with me?
Negan could see the conflict within her as he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. Pretending not to be moved by what he was doing, Sherry took her hand away from him and stood up. "I'm pretty tired," Sherry said while consciously breaking their small moment that they shared. "I would like to go to bed."
Negan nodded but stared at her with some playfulness apparent in his expression. "Would you like to share a bed tonight?" He asked.
Sherry gave him a knowing stare while she tilted her head with impatience. "I'm not sleeping with you, Negan."
He rolled his eyes at her response. "I know you aren't ready for that yet," he started. "I'm talking about just sleeping together. I want to take care of you tonight with your nose being the way that it is."
"My answer would be a no but something tells me that you already made up your mind," Sherry muttered before she downed the rest of the wine that was still in her glass.
"Great! It's settled," Negan exclaimed and clapped his hands together. He cleaned up their glasses and bottles and put them back in the cabinets to be used for another night. Every so often, he would look up from his task and smile at her. She returned it slightly but didn't hold any happiness behind it. With him, she felt suffocated.
…
Dwight tossed and turned in his bed for hours. His mind would go from Drew to Alexa and the brief moments when he saw both of them alive. They each had lives before their new world. Drew could've been someone similar to him when he was his age. When he couldn't stand to think of Drew anymore, his mind would dwell on Alex instead. He didn't think too fondly of Alex but wondered if the new world made him a terrible person. Dwight pondered if Alex had a family that loved him before the apocalypse happened.
He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. Mentally, he was exhausted but his brain refused to shut off as it continued to let him think of the guilt that he felt. His stomach was in knots. He shook his head and finally got of bed no longer able to take the personal hell it was to try and rest.
Dwight walked downstairs and sat on the living couch in a huff. The room was dark and quiet but he thought it quiet fitting for how he felt. After several minutes of staring off into space, he sat up with more frustration and stepped towards the bookcase. Dean had already poured over several books throughout the time that they had been in Sanctuary. Dwight hoped that he could find something that could ease his mind or at least distract him from the troubles that he faced.
His attention was brought to a copy of the Bible. Not being a religious man himself, he was still curious as to what it contained and always heard how much people liked or quoted it. His mom, Rebekah Orlich, always seemed to quote things from various passages as she was more of a church-goer than the rest of his family was. Hesitant to open it and confused on where to even start, he picked up the book and randomly opened it while hoping that he would get lucky.
Then he saw a scripture marked in red with a colored pencil. 'Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment:'
Dwight closed the book swiftly and put it back in its place as he grinded his teeth in consternation. If it were any other book he would have thrown it against the wall. He sat back on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees while his palms went to his forehead. He groaned at the problems that he faced and knew that he was slipping quickly away into someone that he didn't even recognize.
There were so many things in his life that felt out of place. He wasn't even supposed to be in Sanctuary. Or in the Washington D.C. area. He was supposed to graduate with a doctorate and live with his brother in Atlanta. He wondered what the apocalypse would have been like if his brother lived a little while longer. John was his closest friend that he ever had. They became incredibly close after their parents died. As he sat on the couch, he craved for his brother's advice. In a moment where things seemed confusing, he knew that John would have an answer.
He laid down on the couch and closed his eyes. He thought about his brother as his eyes started to feel heavy. No longer did he think of Drew or Alex. The distraction of thinking of someone else seemed to help as he dozed off into slumber.
…
"First things first," John started as he looked outside his loft's window. "We need to get out of the city." Atlanta was a living hell as people raided buildings and others attacked each viciously. "I should have met you up in Athens. I really shouldn't have asked you to pick me up."
Dwight heard the regret in his brother's voice but didn't think too much of it. "It's just as bad there as it is here," he said in an effort to make him feel better. He packed several things from John's food pantry in a duffel bag. Satisfied that they had enough for a couple of days, he closed and glanced toward his older brother. "Ready to go?" He asked.
John stared back at his brother solemnly and nodded. "Yeah, let's do this."
"The guys are waiting next to the car," Dwight disclosed as they headed out the front door towards the elevator. "They are guarding it in case someone tried to raid our shit." John locked his loft as Dwight went to press the elevator button. Before the button even lit up, the electricity shut down throughout the entire building. The green exit sign illuminated the hallway as they could hear screams from above and beneath them.
"Stairs it is," John stated as headed towards the exit sign. They opened the door to the stairway and started walking with their bags stuffed full of essentials. "Do we have flashlights?" John asked.
Dwight looked through his duffel bag and produced two small flashlights that their distant aunt gave them as a Christmas stocking stuffer one year. He handed one to John as they each turned theirs on. As they descended down the steps, other people from John's apartment building started flooding the staircase. There was a great deal of confusion as family member's screamed for others names in the rush. They finally made it to the garage level of the seventeen floor building as Dwight could see his college roommates waving him down. "Let's get the fuck out of here," Dwight muttered as he grabbed for John's shoulder. "Shit's starting to hit the fan!"
They ran to the car as a massive explosion could be heard above them. Dust immediately shook down from the concrete ceiling above them and even more came from the staircase door as people emerged in more of a panic than before. "Holy fuck!" Dwight's roommate, Ian, yelled. "They are blowing this place up! Let's go!"
When they reached the car, Dwight got into the driver's seat and turned on the ignition. The second that he closed his door, a bloodied person banged on his window repeatedly. He stared at the sick man who didn't really appear as if he wanted to be brought on and saved from the commotion. He was growling at Dwight instead. The whole scene was unreal as the man's skin looked sunken and gray as if he were already dead.
"Don't let that thing in!" John yelled to his younger brother while they were all in the safety of his vehicle. "The last thing that I saw on the news was that the infected become rabid or something. That's how the disease is travelling from person to person."
"We have to help somehow," Dwight said while feeling bad for the guy.
"He's past the point of any help, Dwight." John reasoned with sorrow. "We have to go or those things will kill us."
Dwight put the car in reverse as the infected person followed the car for a small moment until Dwight drove out of the parking garage to the best of his ability while also dodging the cars that seemed abandoned altogether. They were leaving Atlanta. Hopefully the worst was behind them.
…
It took them hours to get out of the city. Many people and the infected alike flooded the streets. If it wasn't people that stood in his car's way, it was heavy traffic instead. Dwight decided once they were on the highway that they would switch to the road that had oncoming traffic. Fortunately for them, no one was trying to drive into Atlanta.
They found a piece of land in the middle of nowhere that they occupied for the first several days. They didn't stay long when a couple of rednecks found out that they were there as it was their property. They quickly left and started walking into the forest as their car had run out of gas very early into their trip.
Dwight's group walked several miles out and rested in a different spot that overlooked their surroundings for miles. They felt safe there and they hoped that in a couple days' time that everything would settle back to normal. Dwight would go back to finishing his finals. John would go back to work. Everything would be alright.
"Why didn't you show off your own crossbow to that bastard with the wings on his vest?" Ian joked once they settled their campsite and attempted to start a fire.
"Did you see that guy?" Dwight countered back. "He looked intimidating as fuck. He could take me on; no contest."
"You still had a couple of inches over him though," John commented as he put more kindling in the middle of the fire to help it burn.
Dwight shrugged and looked to his group. "What do you guys care? You always thought my crossbow was lame!"
"That was before that crossbow became the most valuable weapon that we have!" Dwight's roommate, Chad, exclaimed. "That gun that I kept for safe keeping? Yeah, the infected are drawn to noise. That's no bueno!"
Dwight smiled smugly and glanced towards all of them again. "Who knew that my hobby would be the most important skill that I have in life," he said but then thought about all the years of schooling for computers was a complete waste. If he knew better, he would have been the psycho with a bunker to prepare for a worldwide pandemic that swept every corner.
John picked up on his younger brother's melancholy and took his focus away from the fire to look at him. "You are still going to be hacking the world one day after you graduate," John encouraged with confidence.
Dwight peered at his brother as he grinded his teeth in thought. John was always there to buoy him up when he needed him to be. Since they both lost their parents, John stepped in Dwight's life to play both older brother and be the occasional parent that he deemed necessary at times when Dwight was still growing up. John continued to stare at Dwight to make sure that he was alright as Dwight shrugged to shake the sadness away. "Yeah, let's hope so," Dwight deplored.
"Come on," John said as he went back to building the fire. "This thing can't last forever. You just have to have a little faith."
Dwight rolled his eyes as he leaned back against a tree. "Your fucking loft got blown up and you're still the optimist?" He questioned in mild disbelief.
John grinned. "I still have my little brother's place that I could crash," he reasoned. "I'm not homeless yet."
"You look pretty homeless to me," Dwight joked. "How does it feel to not have shaved for a while?"
John felt his cheeks as his face instantly soured. "I'm not liking, to be honest," he responded. "You know me. If I could have worn a suit and tie for PJ's, I would've. Only my dry cleaning bill would have escalated immensely."
"The grunge look fits, I promise," Dwight assured while shaking his head. There were many characteristics that John and he shared. They were both taller than most while they both stood at six foot three and had the same build with long torsos. John had wavy hair instead of Dwight's curly hair that he inherited from his mom. Dwight had darker features with his hair being dark brown and his eyes matching it. John had green eyes and light brown hair. Their faces resembled their father as they both had the same wide smile and European nose. However, John was very much a spitting image of their dad while Dwight took on more of his mom's features. At least everyone could tell that they were siblings from first glance.
Their personalities were very different. In some ways they enjoyed the same work and did the same major for college. Dwight enjoyed the simple things in life whereas John liked some of his things being extravagant. Dwight could hardly think of a time where John dressed down much. As far as that part of their lives, Dwight seemed to acclimate better to their new life than John did.
"What do we have to eat?" Chad asked.
"I guess I can try and go hunting," Dwight offered but knew his experience with hunting was low.
"As an Eagle Scout, I think I can remember some tricks that I learned with trappings and such," John suggested.
Dwight shook his head from his brother's response. "Good lord, John," he mumbled as he picked up his crossbow while all four of them set on their way to hunt for whatever came across their way.
…
"Chad and Ian haven't well in a while," John muttered as he looked towards their tent with worry.
It had been another week since they first set up camp. They split up in their hunting trip earlier in that day when things started to spiral out of control. Ian and Chad came back but both got bit from the infected that were meandering through the forest. Since then they had been in the tent and have stayed there.
"When you were watching the news, did it say what to do if someone got infected or bit by an already infected person?" Dwight inquired warily. He that he already asked the question multiple times but still couldn't fathom that his college friends were going to pass away soon.
John shook his head solemnly. "It's too late for them," he lamented. "No one found a cure before all hell broke loose. There is nothing that we can do for them."
Dwight glanced towards his brother and raised his eyebrows. "What do you suggest that we do then?" He asked. John always had a plan. It wouldn't be the first time that John got them both out of a sticky situation. After his parents died, he had to provide for himself and Dwight. He always found a way.
John looked into the fire and took a deep breath. "They'll become like the rest of them, Dwight," he revealed. "Then they'll be after us. I don't know what kind of disease or virus this is but they turn cannibalistic." He shook his head at how incredulous it sounded while saying it aloud. "Dwight, they were your friends. I'm going to leave it in your hands. What do you think we should do?"
Never since the whole thing began did Dwight feel fear settle in. With the facts out before him, he knew that many people had already succumbed to the infection. It plagued the entire world. He wondered if John and he were the only two people left at that point. From such a catastrophe, it would take a very long time for things to get back to normal. If they ever did.
"Do you think that it would be bad to help ease their passing?" Dwight questioned. "I mean, we have seen those things walking around in the forest. Their skin and insides are rotting. By all intents and purposes, they are dead. If we perhaps help them be at peace, then they can't be a danger to us or somebody else."
John nodded in agreement. "Don't call me a bad person but I was thinking the same thing," he divulged.
Dwight was glad that his brother conceded in their next plan. They would wait for Chad and Ian to pass. Once they did, they would end their lives. It seemed humane to both of them to do right by Dwight's friends since his freshmen year of college. As difficult as it would be to say goodbye, he had to make sure that they were taken care of. He owed to them.
Just then, Dwight saw walkers emerging from the nearby woods and onto their campsite. John and Dwight stood back to back in an instant as they saw the infected swarm the tent viciously as if they knew Chad and Ian were easy targets.
"Chad! Ian!" Dwight yelled and drew attention to some walkers who peeled their lifeless eyes away from the tent and then to him and his brother.
John picked up his brother's crossbow and threw it in his direction. "Dwight, it's too late for them," John reiterated. "We have to go!" There were dozens of the infected toppling over themselves to get inside the tent as that itself fell. If Chad and Ian weren't dead already, they were going to be soon.
Dwight looked one last time to the tent but felt someone tug on his arm. He turned to see a walker about to bite down but John thrust a knife in its head from behind. They glanced to each and silently agreed that it was time to vacate…and run.
They started bolting into the forest while it was pitch black. There were a couple of times that Dwight nearly tripped from one thing or another on the forest floor as it was difficult to make anything out in the darkness. Nor did they have time to focus on it with walkers that were still on their tail.
Dwight then heard a noise behind him as John groaned. Instantly he stopped to see that John fell to the ground from a tree root. Then out of nowhere a walker stumbled upon his brother and went in for the kill.
"JOHN!" Dwight shouted as he pulled his pocket knife out to dispose of the walker that already began feasting on John's shoulder. Dwight quickly stabbed the walker in the head and pulled it away from his closest friend. Dwight immediately started to sob as he saw blood gushing from the sight. "John!" Dwight wept. "We'll get you out of here! We'll fix this!" He pulled his brother up to a standing position as John yelled in pain.
They ran for some time to get away from all of the commotion. Dwight didn't know where to go but he just had to get his brother away. As if running would make things vanish, he had to keep his brother moving. Maybe they would find a safe zone that had found a cure. However, in the back of his head, he knew his brother was gone.
…
Hours passed as the sun began to rise. Walkers were no longer chasing them. Sweat drenched Dwight as he was practically carrying his brother near the end. John informed him in an exhausted voice that he couldn't go any further and that he was done. "We'll take a break, buddy," Dwight relented as he rested his brother next to a tree. "Regain some strength of yours. We can probably find a car and make it to Fort Benning. It could be safe there!"
With the light peeking from behind the trees, he could see his brother's wound more clearly. John looked whiter than he had ever seen a person's skin color before. Dwight felt helpless but needed to find a way for his brother. After all the times that John helped him through life, he refused to give up on him. Most of all, the idea of having his one source of family being taken away again was unbearable.
"Dwight, there's no hope for me," John managed to say in whispers as he eyed his brother. He was so weak that he was unable to even move his neck to look at Dwight directly.
Dwight shook his head vehemently at what his brother was saying. It was too much. "No," he uttered through tears. "Don't you fucking say that."
"This world is going to change you, Dwight," John breathed. Dwight saw as John's eyes glazed over as he didn't look like he was alive or even conscious.
"John, stop!" Dwight urged for his own sake. "The world will go back to normal. You said so yourself."
"You need to be strong in this world. You need to protect what's yours," John instructed as his final words to his younger sibling that used to depend on him for almost everything. "If you don't, you'll have nothing to fight for. You'll be lost." His words became quieter with every sentence that he uttered.
"John!" Dwight cried in a panic as his brother's head tilted downwards.
"Don't let me become one of those things, Dwight!" John begged. "Please, just let me be with Mom and…" His voice died down as his chest failed to show signs of breathing. Dwight stayed still and just looked at his brother in complete shock. It was done. His brother left him. Never did he actually think he would see the day where his brother wouldn't be around to encourage and enlighten. He was alone. He was completely alone in the new world.
Dwight began to breakdown in sobs as he put one finger to his brother's beck to check for vitals. When a good five minutes passed where nothing happened, Dwight finally lost hope that his brother was ever coming back. The shock subsided where he could only feel pain. John was dead. He had no one.
John's last words started playing in Dwight's head as he cried openly like a little kid who scraped his knee. "You need to be strong in this world… Don't let me become one of those things," Dwight gazed at his brother's dead body and looked to his brother's knife that rested in John's lifeless hand. Dwight pried it from John's grasp and placed the knife next to his brother's ear.
"Be at peace, John," Dwight spoke softly. "Tell Mom and Dad that I miss them." With that, he shoved the knife into John's head.
Dwight's tears were spent. For some reason, he couldn't cry after what he just did. Instead he felt a small bit of comfort. It didn't make him feel better but inside he knew that John was going to be okay. Things were better for John and he no longer had to suffer.
…
He continued to play the words that his brother said in his mind while he walked around the forest. He didn't have a place to go or a purpose. He just roamed around while alone in his thoughts. Whenever he came across a walker, he would stab it multiple times out of anger for being in a godforsaken world.
Dwight had been like that for eight days. He wondered if he was the last person even alive. Near the last couple of days, he contemplated just walking towards a herd and letting them have at it. He didn't have a reason to live. Even though John said to protect what was his, he didn't have anything to protect or defend. There was no point.
When hope seemed lost, Dwight finally saw something glistening in the distance. It appeared to be a lake as Dwight thought it looked peaceful enough for his last days. The second he saw a walker, he was going to give up. Like his brother, he wanted to be with his parents as well. There was nothing that was holding him back from having such a reunion. He started walking faster towards the lake but paused when he saw something by the water's edge. Rather it wasn't something; it was someone. He stopped and started to load his crossbow as he assumed it was just another walker. However, when he remembered his ultimate plan to just commit suicide, he thought better of it. But as he looked back up, he noticed that it wasn't a walker. It was another human being that was alive and well. It was a woman.
Dwight noticed that she was crying as she sat beside the lake on a rock. She appeared to be just as broken as Dwight was. Dwight couldn't avoid how nice she looked even when she sobbed to herself. She didn't even have an ugly cry that most girls did. After she cried for a little longer, she attempted to compose herself once more and get back to whatever business that she had going on. Dwight felt safe to approach her and maybe form some kind of truce with her as she seemed to be alone like he was. He started walking towards her quietly without scaring her. In one sudden movement, she pulled a large shotgun from what seemed out of nowhere and aimed it at Dwight. Shit, he thought.
He stopped where he stood as she rose from her sitting area to show some intimidation. It worked. Dwight lowered his crossbow slowly to indicate that he didn't want to start something since she most definitely had the upper hand. He put his hands back up in the air. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He whispered as his voice sounded hoarse to him. He realized that it was the first time that he spoke since his brother died.
She maintained her stance and continued to hold her gun up. Her gaze nearly pierced his soul as if she could burn a hole through him with her commanding stare.
"I'm just passing through. I don't want any trouble," he said in as relaxed of a voice that he could muster. He couldn't think of a time that a gun was pointed straight to his chest. "Can you put your gun down?"
"Where are you headed?" The woman asked in a commanding voice that could have put her already threatening glare to shame.
He thought about her question and sighed in defeat. "I don't really have a destination in mind," he admitted. "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." Dwight thought it good to not mention that he was going to end his life is she ended up being a walker. However, he was hoping that his brother was somewhere around to hear his last statement. He would have been proud to know that Dwight had a new fire that had sparked. With another person in the world, that meant anything optimal could happen.
Her calloused stare started to collapse as she sympathized with what he said. She looked him up and down and Dwight could see pity behind her eyes. At that moment he felt that his emotions mirrored hers. He could feel that she felt the same remorse.
She lowered her gun finally and strapped it to her back. The woman then pointed across the lake. "I have a group at that resort over there," she said in invitation. "Would you like to be with us for a bit?" Her voice was different then when she first opened her mouth. She sounded sweet and kind to Dwight.
He smiled at her in relief. You need to protect what's yours, John's voice echoed in his mind. He didn't understand why his subconscious decided to repeat that line as he stared at the woman before him. Seeing that she was still waiting for an answer, Dwight dropped his hands and picked up his crossbow. "I would appreciate that. Thanks, miss," he said while waiting for her to say a name.
She stepped towards him and took her hand out to shake his. "My name is Sherry."
…
Dwight woke up on the couch with Dean staring directly at him. He figured that he must've drifted off sometime in the night as he noticed it was already morning time. Thankful for the opportunity to have some rest, he was sure that he would have been awake all night while his thoughts consumed him.
"Morning, son," Dean greeted as he looked to the bookcase with puzzlement then back to Dwight. "If I told you something strange, would you think I'm an odd person?"
Dwight shook his head as a smirk escaped. "I already think you are odd."
Dean smiled at Dwight's comeback and peered at the bookcase again. "I can tell that you read from the Bible last night," he stated and took the holy book from the shelf.
"How did you know?" Dwight asked as his brows furrowed.
"I have made it my hobby to organize that bookcase," Dean explained. "Call it boredom, I guess. But when things have a certain place, I will notice it fairly quick." He sat down on the other side of the couch and started searching through the book's pages. "Did you find what you were looking for? For your peace and understanding?"
Dwight huffed in somewhat consternation. "All I got was that God has a brutal sense of humor," he admitted.
Dean was looking purposefully in the book and stopped at a page that Dwight could see was highlighted. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," he quoted.
Dwight blinked several times at the words that Dean said. "You believe that?" He questioned the older man.
With a nod of affirmation, Dean looked to Dwight and placed a hand on top of his shoulder in support. "Son, I'm not dumb," he began. "I have seen the things that Negan has made you do. And the things you have done by your own accord. But son, both situations were justified. I don't think you will be held accountable for those lives that you took. You can always come back from those things."
You need to protect what's yours, John's voice echoed again. If you don't, you'll have nothing to fight for. You'll be lost.
Dwight sighed. He didn't know if the thoughts that were forming in his head were straight from his brother but he knew that the timing of said messages was not just a coincidence. Dwight felt a strong need to be redeemed of what he did because Negan demanded it. The only way that he could stop himself from becoming Negan before it was too late was to leave. He had to leave. Not just for himself but he had to protect what was his. The only thing that he took ownership in was his new family. They were the only people he cared about since his family from growing up was taken. Sherry was his family. Jason was his family. If he didn't see that they were safe, he truly had nothing to fight for. He would become Negan.
"We are going to leave Sanctuary," Dwight declared with conviction. Dean stared at him in question as Dwight met his gaze. "Tonight."
