— Negan's POV —

Me and Simon head to the furnace room to show those new fuckers what's up. Especially fuckin' Brendon. He was a little fuckin' asshole in high school and I bet he grew up into an even bigger asshole now. I just hope he has enough sense to fuckin' fall in line here. And stay the fuck away from Chuck. I know he always had his eye on her back then, but that shit is not fuckin' flying here and now. Not one bit.

I walk across the catwalk, hitting Lucille along the fuckin' railing just to make sure all eyes are on me. The three newcomers are standing in a line, giving me a dumbstruck look. Some of my saviors stand behind them making sure they don't do anything fuckin' stupid.

"Well, hello, gentlemen... and lady," I call out as I walk in front of them. "Welcome to The Sanctuary! I'm Negan. I trust you've been told who I am." I pause to look at them. "Now I know y'all have already been put through your paces at the outpost, but just so we're fuckin' crystal clear on what is to be expected here, I'm gonna go over the rules."

I hold up a finger and pace in front of them. "One! I am in charge here! You do what I say when I say it. No exceptions!" I turn to pace the other direction. "Two! Rape and violence against women is. not. tolerated. here. Period! I don't know where you fucks came from or what your fuckin' groups were all about, but if you lay your hands on an unwilling woman here, you will no longer have hands. Or legs. Or a dick because I will personally rip you limb from limb until you are dead." I stop in front of the woman and speak more quietly. "And do not be afraid to come forward if some fuck gets fresh with you. Not that I want you to think that will happen because I'm very fuckin' happy to say that we have not had a rape here since the very fuckin' beginning, but shit can still happen." I turn to pace again. "Three! Do not steal! Taking what you don't earn is a big fuckin' no-no. If you want more food, or, shit, that shiny new butt plug you've had your eye on," I put my hand on my chest and lean into Brendon to whisper loudly, "I don't judge," I stand back up, "you work your asses off to get the points to fuckin' afford that shit!" I move in front of the group and hold my arms out wide. "And last, but certainly not fuckin' least, don't be a goddamn asshole! We all have to live here and we all live motherfuckin' well. So don't be a dick and ruin this place. Do your jobs. Keep your noses fuckin' clean and everything will be hunky-fuckin'-dory."

I walk over to the man that isn't Brendon. He's middle aged, probably as fuckin' old as me, with a scraggly beard and a gut. "What's your name?"

"Max," the guy says in a gruff voice.

"You the hunter?"

"Yes, sir. Rifles, bows, snares, traps. Big game, small game, bird. I can do it all. Been hunting my whole life."

"Well that sounds fuckin' excellent. I could definitely go for a fuckin' venison steak every once in a while."

"I can definitely provide that for you. I also use every part of the animal. Every part can be useful for one thing or another."

"That's exactly what I'm fuckin' talking about," I call out to everyone in the room. "This is the shit we need! Can you teach others all that shit?" I ask Max.

"Yes, sir, I can."

"Motherfuckin' right! That is y'all's second purpose here," I say to the new group. "Provide your service. Then teach others. That is how we make this community fuckin' last!"

I walk to the woman. Probably late thirties. Has a soccer mom feel. "And what's your name, honey?"

"Paula."

"Paula," I repeat. She looks intimidated as fuck so I back off a bit. "You're the plant lady."

"Y-Yeah. I can make teas and ointments and stuff from plants. A lot of plants have medicinal qualities if you just know how to use them," she answers quickly.

"Great! You can work in the garden with the ladies. They're a little protective of their shit, but you should fit in fuckin' nicely. And you consult with the doc about what shit he thinks will be useful."

"Yes. Thank you, sir."

"You know where to get these fuckin' plants."

"Yes, sir. I know where they grow."

"We'll set you up with some saviors to get you outside the fuckin' gates to bring that shit back. Start growing that stuff on grounds."

Brendon is next. Motherfucker. He has a big beard and looks like he gained about thirty pounds of muscle since the last time I saw him.

"Name?" I say flatly. I don't want to deal with this fucker, but I can't have people knowing my past and that I knew this kid.

"Brendon, sir," he says with just a hint of fuckin' attitude.

Oh, you fuckin' dick.

"Brandon, huh?" I intentionally say the wrong name, but he doesn't flinch. "Good with wood, eh?"

"I'm a woodworker, yes. I've spent some time perfecting primitive carpentry techniques, as well."

"The fuck is that?"

"Not relying on modern tools and supplies for every job."

Shit. That's perfect. If he's not a little dick he could get some new buildings up around here. Maybe even a greenhouse for the garden. And make furniture and shit. Shit that will be good for everyone.

"You can teach that shit to others?"

"I should be able to."

"Good." That motherfucker hasn't broken eye contact with me once since I started talking to him. I give him a smirk and continue walking back to the center of the room to finish this shit.

"They've already told you earlier about the fuckin' points system and what you'll be earning. Which starts tomorrow. Now, you'll be escorted to your fuckin' rooms to get situated in. You're all getting rooms up on the third floor complete with new fuckin' roommates. You'll want to make fuckin' nice with them. If you don't make nice and you want a single room, you'll have to spend some of those points you'll start earning to move on up. That shit ain't free." I pause to look over the newcomers for another moment. "Dismissed."

Everyone starts to leave. Except me. I stay firmly in the center of the room. I watch as Simon walks up to fuckin' Brendon and steers him back to me without drawing attention, allowing everyone else to pass. I'm not done with that motherfucker yet. I wait a few more minutes to make sure that everyone else is gone before I speak up.

"We gonna have a fuckin' problem?" I ask as Simon pushes Brendon forward and backs off.

"Not at all, Coach," Brendon spits back with a smug fuckin' smirk on his face.

I waste no time and cold-cock him right in the face. He goes down hard, but isn't knocked out. I lean over him and pull him back up by the shirt.

"Listen to me, motherfucker. I'm not fuckin' joking around with this shit. You step outta line, you lay your hands on something that doesn't belong to you, you try to fuck shit up here and I will fucking kill you. No exaggeration. No hyperbole. I will literally beat you to death." I push him away from me and he falls to the floor. "Get the fuck up."

He's fuckin' slow getting to his feet, but he does. I definitely rung his fuckin' bell. He wipes his lip of fuckin' blood then rights himself.

"We," I gesture between us, "do not have a fuckin' past. Understand? You know shit about what I'm capable of now. And any warm and fuckin' fuzzy feelings you think I might have for you because we happen to have known each other before are absolutely nonexistent. It would be much, much better for you in the long fuckin' term if you just realize that this man before you," I gesture to myself, "is a new fuckin' man that you just met. Got it?"

"Yes," he says with no emotion.

"Good." I lean a bit away from him. "If you're a good boy and do your fuckin' job here, you can have a fuckin' awesome life. The best you could have in this godforsaken shit pile of a world. You could have a full fuckin' belly everyday, buy a bunch of shit -definitely a razor to shave that shit off your face-, maybe even find a girl willing to let you stick your dick in her." I take a step forward and lean into him as he looks up at me. "But all that good shit is up to you. Right now. Because you got a choice. And it's really fuckin' simple. Fall in line. Or don't. Live. Or don't. That's it." By the time I finish talking, my face is fuckin' inches away from his. He doesn't take long for his answer.

"I'll choose to live," he responds with as much confidence as he can muster. Which, under the circumstances is not much.

I laugh darkly. "Good. Now get the fuck out of my sight."

I turn and walk to the door, leaving Simon to take Brendon to his room.

I want to just kill the kid and be fuckin' done with it. Every bone in my body is telling me to fuckin' slit his throat, but we can use him here. And I need to think about the greater good.

I just have this bad fuckin' feeling about him. Maybe Chuck's right and I overreact about shit like this and everything will be peachy fuckin' keen with this kid... But I still wanted to tell him to stay the fuck away from Chuck. That is the first fuckin' thing I wanted to tell him, but that would be fuckin' stupid of me. Tipping my hand. He'd know he could use her against me if I'd brought her up. I just fuckin' hope I made it fuckin' clear that he has no choice but to obey me.

And I need to make sure Chuck is as safe as fuckin' possible.

— —

The next day is Amber's scheduled ultrasound. Chuck arrives at the infirmary early to receive some instruction on how to use the ultrasound machine. Carson gives her a cursory run through before Amber and Mark arrive, just a little bit early.

Everyone gives their greetings as Amber lays on the exam table. She eagerly lifts her shirt with no prompting, causing Chuck to giggle.

"I'm excited," Amber says with a big smile.

"I can see that," Chuck replies. "It's cute!" Chuck moves in beside Mark to stand by the bed. Carson is on the opposite side on his stool, readying the ultrasound machine.

"I'm going to apply the gel to your abdomen and we'll get started," Carson offers.

Chuck watches his motions closely so she would know how to operate the machine herself. The gel. The wand. The buttons on the keypad. But all of her attention turns to the screen as the picture emerges.

It's a baby. Like an actual baby. Not a blob or anything. I can make out its little face and hands!

"Oh my god!" Amber's voice brings Chuck back to the room.

"That's our baby," Mark says with an air of wonder.

Chuck feels her eyes well up at the overwhelming emotion in the room. She successfully blinks the tears back before they spill over, wanting to remain a professional at that moment. But it's hard for her to remain unemotional like Carson.

"I'm going to listen to the heartbeat now." Carson hits one of the buttons and the telltale sounds of a tiny heartbeat flood the room.

Chuck can't stop the flow of her tears now. She takes a look at the future parents and sees that both of them have tears of pure joy streaming down their cheeks. Even the fact that Mark is still healing from his burn has no effect on the happiness of this moment for them.

Amber moves her gaze from the screen to Mark. And then over to Chuck.

"Oh, Chuck," Amber says as she releases her hand from Mark's and brings it to Chuck's.

"I'm sorry," Chuck chokes out, embarrassed at her emotion. She wipes her tears with her free hand. "I think there might've been a dust storm in here or something," she jokes.

Mark chuckles at her corny joke and rubs Chuck's back with one hand and holds onto Amber's shoulder with the other.

The door opens up and someone steps inside. "You started without me?!" Kayla says from the doorway.

"Sorry," Amber starts. "I was too excited to wait."

Carson finishes up the exam and determines that mother and baby are perfectly healthy, and at about 15 weeks. After that, he lets Chuck try her hand at administering the ultrasound on her own, with Amber and Mark's permission. They are just happy to get more time seeing their baby. After a few minutes, Chuck gets the hang of it and is able to bring up a clear image of the baby without Carson's help.

After Amber and Mark leave, Kayla informs Chuck that Negan wants her to meet him in his gym.

"Oh?" Chuck asks.

"Yeah. He caught me on my way down and told me to tell you," Kayla explains. "I didn't want to rush you out, though, so I didn't tell you sooner. Amber needed you more than Negan did at that moment anyway."

Chuck lets out a little laugh. "You realize he's gonna give me that sourpuss face for making him wait? And probably say," she puts her best "Negan" voice on, "'My time is effin' important. I could be... like, slapping my meat right now.'" She devolves into a fit of giggles at her less than stellar rendition of him.

"Wow," Kayla laughs with her. "You have a horrible Negan impression."

"Yeah, yeah," Chuck says through her giggles.

Chuck goes to her room to changes into her workout clothes. With everything that had happened recently, Chuck hadn't really had the time to workout with Negan. She figures he wants her to get back into the swing of things regarding her self defense training.

Upon entering the gym, Chuck is surprised to see Simon there, dressed in sweats and a tank top along with Negan in his own sweats.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Chuck. How fuckin' long does it take to do a goddamn ultrasound?" Negan calls out to Chuck in a not quite angry voice. "You know I kinda fuckin' run this whole shebang, so my time is fuckin' precious."

"Sorry," she says as she enters the room fully. She's not going to throw Kayla under the bus and tell Negan that she hadn't told her Negan had wanted her until the last minute. "Carson had me try to administer the ultrasound myself and it took a little bit for me to get a hang of it." She comes to stand next to the men. "Hi, Simon."

"Hey, kiddo. How's the future rugrat?" Simon asks.

"Everyone is healthy. And happy."

"So," Negan claps his hands once, effectively changing the subject, "I'm gonna have you go against Simon today. The last time we were fuckin' up here, I noticed you anticipating my moves. You're getting too fuckin' familiar with me, so I'm bringing in someone else. You need to be able to read other fuckin' guys to defend yourself properly."

"Uh... okay," she responds nervously.

"You good with this?" Simon asks.

"Yeah, it's okay," Chuck answers quickly.

Before Chuck can react, Simon comes up from behind her and wraps his arms around her chest, pinning her own arms to her sides.

"Ouch!" she yells. "You're grabbing my boobs too hard!"

Simon instantly lets go and steps back. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to grab your boobs! I was just trying-"

"He didn't grab your tits, Chuck," Negan interrupts with a somewhat condescending tone.

"No. I know. I didn't mean like, 'grab my boobs'. I just meant, like... He was too rough in my... you know," she waves her hand in front of her breasts, "chest region."

"Listen, sweetheart," Negan starts. "You're just gonna have to cowboy up here. You think some sick fuck that wants to hurt you is gonna let up on you because you start fuckin' boohooing? You need to work through it. Keep your mind fuckin' clear and fight." Negan nods at Simon to signal for him to proceed.

Chuck is a little more ready this time. She knows he's coming at her from behind, so she turns away from him and pushes his back away from her as he passes, using his own momentum against him. But he doesn't go down. When Chuck had used that move on Negan, he would always fall to the ground, but Simon is much heavier than Negan and her push doesn't do much.

Simon recovers quickly and comes after her again, this time grabbing both her arms and sweeping her legs out from under her. He holds her up enough that she doesn't slam into the ground, but she is taken down all the same. He straddles her and pins her arms down near her sides. Chuck is just about to try to bring her legs around Simon to twist him off of her, but he shifts. He takes his weight off of her thighs and flips her around onto her stomach underneath him.

Chuck is at a loss. She wracks her brain thinking about what Negan had told her to do in a situation like this, but she can't focus. She tries to push herself up with her hands, but Simon grabbed her wrists and pins them above her head. She feels so powerless in this position.

Powerless like she was back there.

A flash of a memory streaks through her mind. Rolling Acres. It was a night when Jacob had come back from a run late. And empty handed. He had taken out his frustrations on her, pinning her down to the bed on her stomach, ripping her clothes off of her so roughly that it tore at her skin.

Negan's voice breaks her out of her horrible memory. "Come on, Chuck. You got this. Kick his ass!"

Chuck can feel her heart pounding in her chest. She feels claustrophobic, panicked. Her breathing picks up, but at the same time, she feels like her lungs are constricted.

"I c-can't..." she chokes out.

"Focus, Chuck!" Negan calls out.

"C-can't brea-the. I n-need-"

"Chuck? You want me to stop?" Simon asks with concern in his voice.

"No!" Negan demands as he comes closer. "She can do this."

She starts to hyperventilate and shake all over. "I can't br-breathe!"

Simon immediately jumps off of her and flips her around in his arms. "Fuck! Fuck! I hurt her!" he yells as he holds her.

"She's having a panic attack. Sit her up." Negan crouches down beside her and Simon places her in a seated position.

"Shit. I'm so sorry," Simon says apologetically as he sits back, unsure of what to do.

"Just keep breathing, baby girl." Negan begins to rub her back in a steady rhythm. "Focus on my voice. Breathe in deep." He keeps talking her through her panic attack and, in a few minutes, she is calmed down.

"I'm sorry," she whispers sheepishly. "I don't know why I reacted like that."

"It's my fault. I was too rough or something. I'm sorry Chuck. I feel like shit," Simon says genuinely.

"No. Don't feel bad. It wasn't your fault." She gives him a reassuring smile. She doesn't blame Simon for what had happened. It had been her own misplaced anxiety and bad memories that caused her to panic.

"Well, I think we're fuckin' done for the day," Negan calls out as he stands from the ground. He bends back down to lift Chuck up onto her feet.

"No, no. I can keep going. I'm sorry," Chuck protests. She wants to show Negan and Simon that she can push herself.

"I don't think so, baby girl. You look white as a fuckin' ghost. I think you need to lay the fuck down." Negan responds gently as he leads her to the door.

Chuck turns back around to Simon. "I'm sorry I freaked you out," she says in embarrassment.

"No need to apologize. Just... take a rest and feel better." Simon gives her a goofy smile which makes her giggle.

Negan and Chuck enter Negan's bedroom. Chuck kicks her sneakers off and lays down on his bed. As soon as she lays back, she realizes just how exhausted she feels.

Negan leaves his room then reenters. He holds out a glass of water for her and she takes it, sipping on the drink after she props herself up on the headboard.

"Thanks," she says quietly.

Negan sits down on the bed beside her. "You okay?" he asks as he looks at her intently.

"Yeah. I just feel stupid." She gives him a little shrug and a laugh designed to hide the tears forming in her eyes.

"You don't have to feel stupid, okay? It was just a fuckin' panic attack." Negan takes the glass out of her hand and sets it on the nightstand. "I shouldn't have pushed you so fuckin' hard." Negan cradles her cheeks and wipes her tears with his thumbs.

"No. It wasn't you. Or Simon, even. I just... I don't know." She tries to look away from Negan, but he won't let her turn her head. She clears her throat and continues. "I remembered something that happened. At Rolling Acres. And it just... made me freak out, I guess."

Negan hugs her tightly and positions her laying down on his chest. She snuggles into his shirt and breathes in his familiar scent. It's comforting to her and she relaxes into him even more. She is just about to fall asleep when his voice registers to her.

"Lucille used to get panic attacks," he states quietly, almost to himself. "I'd calm her down. Hold her while she cried..." He trails off.

Chuck squeezes his body and mumbles a sincere "thank you" before sleep overtakes her.

Some time later, Chuck is vaguely aware of Negan leaving the bed, but is still too tired to wake up fully.

"Sweetheart." Negan's voice rouses Chuck from her sleep a few minutes later.

"Yeah?" she answers sleepily.

"Dinner's waiting. You need to fuckin' eat."

Chuck gets up with a yawn and the pair eats their dinner in the kitchen. Chuck picks at her food, but finds that her stomach is sour.

"You're not hungry?" Negan asks.

"My stomach..." Chuck replies. "It gets upset when I... get upset, I guess."

"Hmm. Did you get panic attacks a lot before all this shit? Because you've had two in a fuckin' week now."

"I had them a lot when I was younger. Not really since the start of all this, though. I only had a couple of them at Rolling Acres."

"Should I be worried?" Negan asks in a drawn out way.

"No. I'm fine. I think stuff has just been kinda crazy lately. With Amber and the baby. And Mark. Then the storm. And before all that, you got hurt..."

"You have tomorrow off. You're staying right the fuck up here in my room and resting up."

"That's not really necessary. It's not even like I work that much... I'm just being a baby-"

"I'm giving you an official order to plant that ass in my bed tonight and not set a single fuckin' foot out of it all day tomorrow."

Chuck lets out a giggle. "That seems a little unfeasible."

"But before all that," Negan gets up and clears the plates, "get your shoes on. I got a surprise for you."

Chuck goes into the bedroom and puts her sneakers back on. When she comes back out, Negan is waiting by his door with a covered bowl in one hand and Lucille in the other.

"What's that?" Chuck asks, pointing to the bowl.

"You'll see." Negan opens his door and the pair enters the hallway.

They make their way through The Sanctuary and outside the building. The sun is shining low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the grounds.

"Where are we going?" Chuck asks.

"Patience, princess," Negan replies with a smirk.

He leads her to the very back of the property where there are a few trailers that, as far as Chuck knows, are empty or used for storage. Not that Chuck has ever been back there. No one really goes back there.

Negan hands Chuck the bowl and fishes out a key from his pocket. He unlocks the padlock on the door and opens it slowly.

"After you," Negan says as he holds the door open for her.

As soon as Chuck enters the trailer, she hears it. Little mews. From kittens. She searches her eyes around the dark room until she sees a little nest in the corner underneath a counter, with one mommy cat with three little kittens walking around her.

"Oh my god," Chuck whispers as she grins ear to ear. Chuck had always been an animal lover in the time before. And now that she sees these adorable little kitties, she realizes how much she misses having pets.

"Someone found these fuckers near the front gate this morning. I had them moved back here so no dickhead goes and kicks the shit out of them. Momma cat has a nice hole back there behind that counter so she can get out to eat. But I thought you might want to feed her yourself." Negan points to the bowl.

Chuck uncovers it and sees that there are a bunch of scraps of meat in it. She slowly walks closer to the cats and sets it on the ground. The adult cat immediately goes up to the bowl and starts eating. She had obviously been acclimated to people at some point.

Chuck sits on the ground and just watches the cats. Eventually, the mother fills her belly and comes over to Chuck to check her out. She allows Chuck to pet her and even sits in her lap. The babies come over, too, sensing that their mother is at ease with Chuck.

"I hope you realize that these cats are going to live in The Sanctuary with me now," Chuck states.

"That's not happening. They are out here. You can feed them and play with them and shit, but just as long as it's out here," Negan says with a barely hidden chuckle.

"We'll see," Chuck smiles up at Negan standing beside her.

He lets out a laugh. "Oh, will we?"

"You obviously have a soft spot for them if you moved them in here. So I bet you'll move them indoors at some point. You know, when it gets cold."

He chuckles. "Maybe I just have a soft spot for you and thought you'd like to cuddle with the fuckers."

"Well, then you'll let me do what I want and take them inside." She gives him her best cocky smile.

He sucks on his teeth and crouches down to pet one of the kittens. "Maybe," he starts, "Maybe when they get old enough, you can take one."

She lets out a little squeal of excitement.

"No promises!" Negan is quick to add on. "I want to keep a few cats around the grounds. Keep the fuckin' mouse population down."

"Fine. Can I have the key so I can keep feeding them?"

Negan hands her the key and she pockets it. The pair stay in the trailer for a little while longer, playing with the cats, before they go back up to bed.