A/N This chapter will be from Alice's point of view. I didn't plan on writing from her point of view so soon, if at all, but I changed a few things last minute and here we are.
How can you look me in the eyes and tell me you're proud of what you've done within this life? Your footprint can't dematerialize and when you die, look where you've left your children behind... a world unsuitable for life. -Travis Ryan
Again, Alice.
The elements are not in my favor.
They'll never be in your favor, and you're wasting my time.
That is not my intention.
Again.
Very well.
Excellent. Absolute perfection.
Lucky throw.
That is an ignorant thing to say. Again, but this time, I want you to throw it with me at the target.
Foolish. Do you honestly trust your life in my hands?
What if I didn't have a choice but to trust you with my life?
Once again, I find the elements against me, and like my father's life, Negan's is now in my hands. "I will not allow you to harm what is mine." I unsheathe the knife concealed within my boot. The Syndicate member is awarded an instant death, something he is not worthy of.
Negan is swift to retrieve the revolver before firing it at the man closest to me.
I'm unable to recover my knife before another gun is raised at Negan. There is no bulletproof vest to protect me this time, though it doesn't detour me from taking a bullet for him.
"No!"
I'm frequently compared to a robot. I can assure you that is an inaccurate analogy. Robots do not feel pain. I do. My shaky knees give, as I stoop over on the tile. The blood is significant for such a small entry wound. Of course, the exit wound is greater than the entry wound because the bullet has struck bone. I cannot allow my body to capitulate. Negan requires my assistance. I'm almost paralyzed with fear as I watch my protector bludgeon these men to death with nothing more than his own fists.
He's doing irrefutable damage to his body. "Fuck you, you cunts," he threatens, rearing his hand back and driving it in the last man's temple until it kills him. Negan finally succumbs to his own wounds. It's as if the only thing keeping him on his feet is his instinct to protect me.
I press my trembling hands to his back. "Negan?"
No response.
I'm uncertain whose blood stains my hands. "Please," I choke. Blood roves down the cracks in the tile until enough collects to start pooling together. This is beyond the extent of my medical comprehension. My fingers stiffen against the worn leather. Is he…? Wake up! I sob endlessly into the material. When he reanimates, he'll be too heavy to fight off, not that I will attempt to subdue him. "Please, Lout." What about our life together?
"Alice…"
Thank you! I've got to get him home.
"My ribs," he whimpers.
"I'll drag you, lie still."
"No." He struggles to stand up.
"Don't get to your feet! You could puncture your lung."
"Alice, go… before more of… those fuckers come back."
The thought that more could be on their way only fuels my adrenaline as I bolt down the corridor. I'm often faced with challenges due to my small size. This works in my favor, and I retrieve a tarp from a small space that could not be infiltrated by most.
"I thought you left."
"You must assist me. You're too heavy."
His face is crippled in pain. "I can't."
"If you perish now, everything will be in vain. Please, do not force me to put you next to Charline."
"…okay."
"Roll on your side. I'll do the rest." Judging by his gasping screams, I'm certain he's broken another rib.
"Alice-"
"Do not speak." This plan seemed flawless, but his mass exhausts me. We still lack half of this warehouse. If only I had some type of… I snap my head over my shoulder. That's it! I do not inform him of my plan, and locate the vehicle we arrived in. Excellent! While the Syndicate impaired my vision, my hearing wasn't. This vehicle has a coolant leak. There is a receptacle of antifreeze located on the floorboard. Once back inside, I flip over the jug and pour the liquid on the ground from the door all the way to Negan. I steady my feet on each side of the liquid and start dragging him. The antifreeze slickens the pavement so the stress of his weight is minimalized. Though this is only one obstacle down. How will I get him in the vehicle to make it home? Of course. The loading bay. "I will return." Hotwiring the vehicle is priority number one. Simple enough, and easily achieved. Getting Negan in the vehicle isn't. There are several pallets that I line the vehicle's cargo area with until they are flush with the warehouse. This way, I can pull him in the cargo area without the significant drop down. "I'll be as gentle as I am able." I am not easily defeated. It is not in my nature. This? This is impossible.
He must sense this because he assists me, and it becomes too much for him. The Savior leader is on borrowed time. "Alice," he stammers, fading in and out of consciousness.
I refuse to accept he is dying.
Whoa, wait a fucking minute.
My navigational skills impress even myself in this foreign area, though I'm quick to find familiarity.
Ladies first.
Familiarity that just might save his life.
Guess it just ain't our time, or did you want to keep going?
I do not have the luxury of sparing a single second and plow through the main gate of Sanctuary.
You by yourself?
I briefly punch my fist against the truck horn.
Close your eyes.
"I require assistance!"
You want me to leave you here to bleed out, fine, but if you want to come back with me, I'm blindfolding you. We don't fucking know each other and I won't risk my men's lives by leading you right to our fucking front door.
My fists beat violently on the well used metal.
Dwight is the first one to hear my distresses. "Alice," he falters, placing his hands against my cheeks.
"Negan, he's…" Pull yourself together!
"Marshall, Connor, Hawkes," he bellows.
While I have no doubt in these men and their strength, Negan does not need to be tossed around like some rag doll. The sprint up each level seems to grow with each passing one until I finally reach my destination. "Kuzma!"
He's quick to realize the situation.
I try to keep up with him, but he's exceedingly faster. Thankfully.
When Negan's bloody body is brought inside Sanctuary, you can instantly feel the mood shift into dismal uncertainty and panic start to ensue.
At this point, I do not know if Negan is alive in Kuzma's arms, or if he has perished. I dismiss any questions asking how this happened. Once Negan is placed on the infirmary table, I feel for a pulse. Faint.
Kuzma shifts concern when he sees the blood loss from my bullet wound.
"Everyone out," Harlan instructs, as Nicole clears the room.
Negan goes into these violent convulsions.
"He's going into cardiac arrest."
I press my hands to one of his injuries to help with the bleeding. I'm not accustomed to being entirely useless.
Harlan and Nicole work in tandem to save his life, but they can only do so much.
When Negan becomes briefly stable, I get my chance to assist. "Please," I whine, pulling up my sleeve.
"Alice, if you give him blood, you will die."
"If you don't start the transfusion I will, and it's probable we will both die." I scoop Negan's cold hand in mine. "He is too important to the survival of Sanctuary." My eyes shift to Nicole. "You both know this. Make the preparations." As they begin, I write Negan a letter to convey all the things I need to tell him. What do you say to someone with the added pressure of knowing it will be your last? My fingers continually cramp as my heavy eyes start fighting me as well. "Give me your word you'll keep going?"
"I promise," Nicole cries as she takes my blood pressure.
"Very well." I tuck the letter inside his pants pocket, and become dizzy. This is more painful than I imagined, though it makes sense considering the blood is being drained-
...
-from my body. I snap my eyes open. "Negan!"
"Don't move, baby, I'm trying to stitch up this gunshot wound," Nicole smiles.
"Negan," I repeat, skimming the room.
"He's out of danger. For now," she informs me.
My relief is brief. "For now?" She helps me back in my shirt, not that I require her assistance, but I fear she's stalling.
"Harlan," Nicole calls, when she buttons my last one.
"Alice, Negan's in a coma, which is to be expected considering the amount of trauma his body has endured. However, without electricity and the proper medical tools, he's going to die if he stays in the coma too long. We just don't have the means to keep him alive."
"With electricity, and acquiring the tools needed, he would survive?"
"It's still hard to say, but without them, he will die."
My eyes flood, but with a slight head twitch I collect myself. "You told me I would perish giving blood."
"Alice, this isn't just giving blood. We're talking about his organs shutting down, and that will lead to death."
"Alright. Compile me a list of the medical supplies needed."
"Even if you get what we need, how are we going to power all this medical equipment?"
"You let me worry about that." I hop down from the table, and stand next to Negan. Please give us the opportunity to save you, Lout.
...
"These?" Cosworth asks Clara.
"I like your other ones." Clara returns the glasses back to him.
"Alice," Cosworth greets.
From the moment I met Cosworth, I felt a closeness with him. He's my equivalent, like Charli was to Negan. I enjoy having the sibling relationship with someone again.
Cosworth waits to speak until Clara has left the room. "They said he doesn't have long."
"Any moment could be his last. I was given a list of supplies to fetch. Harlan believes that the Hilltop or Alexandria might possibly have what's needed."
"May I see it?" He studies it briefly. "I'll have the solar panels operational before you return with the equipment."
"Thank you," I choke.
"I know it's not our way, but if you need to talk I will listen."
"Now's not the time for tears."
"Very well."
I smirk with a brief laugh. That's my line.
...
With Negan indisposed, Marshall took leadership of the Saviors.
"Come in," Marshall shouts.
I find him on his bed, cleaning one of his guns with a toothbrush.
"Oh," he clears his throat, and attempts to fix his messy hair.
I slap him across the face. "How dare you disrespect me." I won't lie, just like when I strike Negan, I am fearful. Even though Marshall is a good man, he could easily be provoked into hurting me, but he doesn't and apologizes.
"I thought you knew my intentions when I tried to take you back to my room."
"I thought you knew mine."
He shifts his jaw side to side. "I wouldn't do anything you didn't want."
"Marshall, I know you're not that kind of man. Your actions speak otherwise."
"Can you blame me for trying?" He slams his eyes shut. "Sorry." When they reopen, they have a sadness to them. "I'm sorry. I disrespected you for assuming you were that kind of woman. Thankfully, Negan intervened before I made too much of a jackass out of myself. I don't want to mess up our friendship. It was stupid of me. Give me a chance to make things right between us."
"Accompany me to Alexandria."
"Gladly, Ms. Alice," he smiles.
...
My heart races as Marshall and I stand at the gates of Alexandria.
"Marshall," Olivia reddens. "Uh, come in."
This situation could have been avoided. I shouldn't have asked Marshall to come with me
"You know where Rick is," she tells me, leaving the two of us.
"I apologize, Marshall."
"I couldn't care less about Olivia. She said some pretty hurtful things. Good riddance."
"Often, the reason it's hurtful is because we need to hear them." I know this all too well because I am not the ideal mate. While Negan is infuriating at times, I am also equally maddening.
Eugene rudely clears his throat.
Not this insolent fool.
"Are you lost?"
My condescending guffaw enrages him. "I would embrace uncertainty before allowing confidence in your navigational skills."
"Navigation is within my skill set."
"Alice," Carl calls, throwing his arms around me.
"Carl, where is your father?"
"Over there. Where's your vest?"
I pry his hands from me and start towards Rick. It saddens me to dismiss Carl like I have. I will make it up to you, my friend. My concern is, with Negan being the one injured, Rick will be opposed to offer aid. Am I wasting precious time I cannot afford?
"Yes, we have all these things, but I'm sorry, I can't help you."
You can't or you won't? Rick's more stubborn than I am. "Negan will die if you don't assist me."
"It wouldn't be the worst thing."
"Rick, I'm humbly begging you to reconsider."
"Alice, this is something I will not reconsider."
I understand there is bad blood between the two parties, but letting someone perish is foolish. "It was wrong of me to ask this of you. I apologize."
"I don't expect you to understand-"
"I don't comprehend it. I never will. You attacked Negan's men first. You drew first blood on his outpost Saviors. Yes, Negan bullied the Hilltop into giving supplies, there is no denying that, but Carl told me he offered the same deal to protect the Hilltop from the Saviors. Half their supplies. I will not make excuses for Negan, nor will I say he is a perfect man. No one's hands are clean anymore." I don't find these words easy to say. Especially, because Rick has given me this life, but it doesn't grant him immunity from the things he needs to hear. To understand he's too stubborn. "If you do not assist me, Negan will die. It is an absolute certainty."
Rick's fingers tighten around his walking stick as he leans in closer to me. "Good."
"Very well."
"Alice, your place is here. With us."
"No, Rick. This is affirmation that I am where I need to be."
Marshall spits on the ground, before easing a protective arm around me as we return to our truck.
I don't approve of bodily fluid being hurled outward in such a disrespectful manner, but it's fitting for the situation. Charli was fond of the middle finger.
"You can cry if you need to."
"I am not sad. The day will come when Rick stands before Negan to supplicate for his own people only to remember this day. That is an absolution I will eagerly relish."
Marshall lets out a snicker before lighting his cigarette. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."
"Sir?" I hand Marshall the lists I've spent the night preparing.
He goes over them with the other Saviors. "We only have one shot at this, people."
More people than I expected volunteered to go on the run. In fact, the only person that didn't offer to help save Negan is Kid, though I understand her reasoning. She is agitated with Negan at the moment.
"Count me in, too," Carl says from the back. He flashes me a warm smile.
His willingness to help practically brings me to my knees. "I don't deserve your aid after dismissing you, nor do I want to put you at odds with your father."
"My father is stubborn, you know this. If he knew I snuck out to help, yeah, he'd be pretty pissed, but this is the right thing to do. No one is going to live forever, but I want to be proud of what I've done with the life I had."
Precisely. "I am proud of the man you've become, Carl."
"Heh," he blushes. "Well, some of me coming here to help is selfish. I mean, if anyone is going to kill Negan, it's going to be me," Carl laughs, climbing into the truck. He sticks his head out the window. "Hey, you gotta sit by me though."
I sniff up my nose. "Yes, of course."
...
With my vest unaccounted for, it means I'm back to using my father's knives. I am not as accurate with these, nor am I able to carry more than two. The vest is replaceable. What's not replaceable are the knives Negan constructed me. They mean more to me than he will ever know, especially because he took the time to initial them. I stretch my fingers out and take the permanent marker in the console. It's not the same, but it's a small comfort as I write an N on both of the knives. I can only hope this is as temporary as Negan's condition.
The squeaky brakes give our arrival away before Marshall can.
"I'll protect you, like old times," Carl tells me, curling his fingers around mine.
"I know you will," I smile.
"Two teams," Marshall instructs, handing a radio to Connor. "Check in periodically."
"Yes, mother," Connor derides, snatching the device.
My team is comprised of Carl, Kuzma, Dwight, Marshall, and Hawkes.
Connor's is Banks, Tara, Seth, Lee, and Vasquez.
Bryan is going to stay back with the trucks as security. We have one of our generators in the truck that will be used to test the medical equipment before we make the journey home.
After seventeen arduous hours, three hospitals, and countless pieces of equipment, we're no better off than before we started.
"I'm sorry." Marshall is so distraught, he can hardly speak the words. He is not the only one upset. It's the most silent this group has ever been. Not even Connor has some kind of input. While we were able to recover some supplies, most of the machines were completely destroyed or stolen. I know the men are tired. "Carl, you need to return with the others."
"No. I'm not leaving you, Alice. You can't do this on your own."
Perhaps I'm avoiding the trip back to Sanctuary. If Negan has perished, I do not know what I will do.
Dog licks and nudges my fingers as he whimpers.
If the circumstances weren't so bleak, I'd be disgusted by the saliva. I heave a sigh, scratching the underside of his chin. "Come on now."
He stays rooted, starting to bark.
We all assume it's the dead, but there's nothing around us. I gasp as my lips part. "The veterinary hospital." Why didn't I think of this before? Of course the hospitals would be ransacked, but the odds are slightly more in our favor this way. I try to recall a location for one as I flatten my map against the sides of one of the trucks. "Here," I tell them, pointing to a location south of here.
"Load up," Marshall shouts.
...
The smell permeating from the hospital burns my eyes. I tie my bandana around Carl's nose.
"I… can't…" Dwight turns to expel all the fluids from his stomach.
"Pussy," Connor snickers, before mocking Dwight with dry heaving noises.
It makes Dwight even sicker.
The smell wasn't from what you'd think. It's rooms and rooms of the dead. They were so full, you couldn't even get the door open, and if you did, they'd spill out everywhere. This is one of the most unsettling things I have ever seen because I'm certain these are the bodies from failed Syndicate experiments.
Connor doesn't find it so amusing now, and winds up in the same position as Dwight.
It's seeping into our clothes, and hair. The hallway was a slick carpet of blood that several of us had already found out the hard way.
"There," Hawkes points. "Form a line to pull out the bodies, and grab the equipment." He quickly takes charge.
There's another thing I find truly disturbing about the bodies. I'd calculate almost eighty percent of these people have had some type of reconstructive surgery on their knees. They're bent and then have been sewn in place. I can only assume it's so the victim doesn't try and flee. Maybe a system they implemented after Vasquez escaped. None of us speak a word while doing our task. I feel compelled to return at a later time and give these people a proper burial. It's imperative that we save Negan at this point. He is the only one I feel confident in leading us against fighting the Syndicate.
Hawkes' voice carries down the hall. The room is empty of any equipment.
Perhaps another room? After two more, the men are defeated.
"Alice, I'm sorry."
Why is this such an arduous endeavor?! Why can't something go right? I step out back for a breather mostly due to the fact I don't want anyone to see me cry. One of the Syndicates trucks have been left behind. I inspect the cab to see if I can find any clues as to their whereabouts. Like the medical equipment, I find nothing. It's as if the only reason the truck is here is to mock me. To show me that, once again, the Syndicate have the upper hand. Out of frustration, I kick the rolling door. It's not secure and slowly raises up some.
One of the dead's hands come from under it and grab me by the shirt.
I don't need my knife, and wouldn't use it even if it was in my hand. Instead, I lift the rolling door up some and yank the dead from it, kicking its skull in. After I'm done, I feel worse. I've disrespected this unfortunate soul that was taken captive. "I'm sorry." My eyes well up, but I'm unable to release all this pent up emotion that I have inside. As I slowly turn my head towards the truck, I understand why. "Oh," I murmur, as my eyes widen.
"Oh god," Carl says behind me. "Alice, you did it!"
I'm still in shock.
"Hey," Carl yells when he opens up the back door.
The entire truck is filled to the brim with the medical supplies that was taken from the hospital. I drop to my knees, pressing my hands to the scorching pavement. "Thank you," I whimper. "Thank you." It's not just a victory for Negan, it's a victory for everyone. Proof that those who suffer, survive. I am praised by the others, and if I weren't so choked up I could tell them that my findings were strictly dumb luck.
That is an ignorant thing to say.
My father's voice chastises me once again.
"Sandwich the supply truck in the middle of the two of ours." It is also decided that we will load some of the supplies into the other two trucks. That way, in the event a truck is lost, we're not back to square one.
"Can I have some?" Carl holds his hands out.
"I don't know, can you?"
"Alice," Carl laughs. "May I?"
I squeeze the sanitizer in his palms. People often find my incessant need to be clean annoying. Not today. Everyone gladly lines up for my wet wipes and hand sanitizer. I want to rip my own skin off most of the time. I'll never accept being filthy. Situations like this drive me to my breaking point, and I have to mentally put myself into another place. Usually something involving equations and formulas. I already feel tranquil.
...
Dividing the equipment up in each of the trucks turned out to be for nothing, but it was a precaution I am glad we took. We've come too far for it to be in vain.
"Can you boys imagine what it's going to be like if he got those solar panels working?"
Cosworth assured me the solar panels would be operational, and I have faith in my friend.
He's in the courtyard when we arrive with the supplies. "I'll take the addition of a third truck as a good sign?"
"Yes. We've exceeded what was required." I don't want to ask him and seem insulting, but he doesn't say anything else as he watches the men bring in the equipment.
Cosworth laughs every time one of them walk into Sanctuary and back out again.
Oh, my. This is comical.
"What's so funny?" Carl asks.
I point at the door that leads into Sanctuary.
"I don't understand." Carl walks closer and starts to inspect it. "Oh," he laughs.
Cosworth crosses his arms across his chest. "How many times do you think they'll pass by it before they realize that light has been on the entire time?"
"It seems this could go on for days."
"Shall we barter weekly supply room points on the one that notices first?"
"That sounds agreeable." I shake Cosworth's hand.
His prediction is on his father.
Mine is on Marshall.
We're both wrong.
Dog starts barking at the light.
"All be damned," Cosworth smirks.
"I am not surprised. After all, it was Dog's idea to scavenge the veterinary hospital," I chuckle.
Cosworth smiles down at me. "Go save him, Alice."
I hurry into Sanctuary, hearing Connor's faint voice from outside.
"Holy fuck, we have electricity?!"
...
Seeing Negan hooked up to all these machines and cords is upsetting. I know that it means his probability for survival goes up, but the last person I remember seeing like this was my mother. Even at a young age, that image is forever burned in my mind. A lot of the equipment on Negan had to be altered which makes it even more frightening. Will this be sufficient enough for him to pull through?
"His vitals are good," Nicole tells me.
"They are?"
She shows me how to read the monitor, and what they watch for.
Marshall steps into the infirmary. "I'm going to make an announcement about the electricity. Do you guys want to gather in the cafeteria?"
I take the opportunity to be alone with Negan. It's not to disrespect Marshall as a leader, or Cosworth's hard work. I wish Negan could enjoy this moment with the rest of them.
"He looks like one of the roamers," Carl frowns.
Negan's bruises are still pretty significant, his right eye being the most prominent one.
"Sorry. I didn't mean like he was already dead."
"I know."
"That group did this to him, huh? The Syndicate."
"Yes."
Even Carl recognizes the importance of Rick and Negan siding their differences at this point. "I would never expect Maggie to forgive Negan after what he did to Glenn, though she understands the importance in the survival of her people. If we don't put aside our differences to help each other kill the Syndicate, we're all going to end up bodies in that hospital."
I am certain I stand next to the future leader of Alexandria. "Thank you for everything, Carl."
"I better get back." Carl gives me a hug.
This time I return the gesture.
"I love you, Alice."
"I love you, as well, Carl."
Most everyone partied throughout the night, into the weary hours of the morning. I staked out my usual spot in the infirmary. Sleeping in the corner on a pallet of blankets I've made. This way, I can be close to Negan.
"Hey," Molly smiles at me. "Look, I know you're pretty pissed at me, so I don't want to press my luck, but have you seen Kuzma by chance?"
"Not since the supply run."
"He never came to the party last night. I was just-"
I've heard enough, and make my way to the catwalk. I skim the crowd, then start to fear the worst as I start up to the fifth level.
Dog whimpers outside of his room, scratching at his door.
"Kuzma!" I pound on the blockade several times before barging inside. This is not how I imagined my first use at electricity to go, and I'm fearful to what will be revealed as I run my finger up the light switch.
Kuzma is stooped over at the foot of his bed on the floor. An empty bottle of alcohol at his feet.
"Kuzma!" I touch his neck to feel for a pulse. "Kuzma, wake up, please!" I give him several light smacks to the face.
He rises from his slump. His cheeks are flush and dirty streaks stain them. "Yana?"
"It's Alice." I take his enormous hand, as his eyes adjust to the light. "I'm Alice." I've been saving this for later tonight, but now is as good of time as any. I replace my hand in his with a necklace from my pocket.
Kuzma seems like he doesn't know what to make of it.
It's a replica of the one Yana wore. Today is her birthday. "Twenty-one," I smile. Some days are more difficult than others to keep track of. It's days like this that make it worth doing so.
"Thank you." He presses his lips to my forehead.
I've tried desperately to learn his language, and hope that my studies are not in vain. I tell him that I would be proud to have him as my father.
He responds that he loves me like his own, then holds me as I weep. This day is his, yet he's made it about me. He always makes every day about me.
...
If I sneak off early enough in the morning, I'm not questioned. I truly feel that this is no one's burden but my own. I'm going to find Lucille. I must find Lucille before he wakes up. It's just a matter of which one of the six locations she could be at. It's more difficult on foot to cover the ground that I need to, but I have no other option. After two tiring days, I start back for Sanctuary.
"No," a disembodied female voice cries.
As I hurry towards the voice, I witness a man forcing himself on the female against a tree.
"You like that, bitch?"
If I had my knives, he'd be dead. Though, it's still a direct hit to his shoulder, and enough to stop the act.
"Jesus fucking fuck," the man screams, reaching over his shoulder.
I ready my other knife, but become paralyzed when I see his face. He's... one of the dead? No. It can't be. Are those… tattoos on his face?
"What the fuck," the girl yells, naked as the day she's born, her hand planted firm on her hip.
"Little fucking help," the man grunts.
"Just fucking pull it out," she yells at him.
"I thought... he's not..." I'm so perplexed as to what is going on in this moment.
The girl seems perfectly comfortable around the man, and even tries to assist him in removing the knife.
I take in a quick breath. Role playing. I rush to the man's side, though I'm certain he's going to harm me after my attempt to take his life, but he doesn't.
Instead he just stares back at me with unsettling solid black eyes. "Damn, you're beautiful."
"Fucking jerk," the girl yells, hitting him on the back of the head before gathering her clothing.
"Uh," I flush. This is the most awkward situation I have ever come across.
"I'm Butcher," he smiles, pulling his pants up.
"I'm... sorry."
"I can work with that."
"I thought you meant the girl harm."
"Nah, she's the biter." He shows me his bloody hands and arms that have her teeth imprints. His hands are actually tattooed to look like the skeletal system.
"Are you in pain?"
"I wouldn't tell you if I was. That ain't very manly."
I do not understand why this man is so smitten with me, but he doesn't take his eyes away from me while I tend to his wounds.
"You by yourself?"
"No. I have a much larger group."
"You should reconsider. Stay with us. I'd treat you good."
"Well."
"Well, what?"
"Nothing." I don't mean to come across rude, but certain grammatical errors really annoy me.
When he gets to his feet, it's revealed just how massive Butcher actually is and I find myself thankful he didn't try to harm me. He stands at an impressive six foot five. "You should at least meet the rest of us before you say no."
"I will agree to that." It's a selfish purpose because it will be dark within the hour and shelter will be welcoming. Shelter might have been quite the understatement. It's a rundown gas station with a large awning where the gas pumps used to be. Hmm.
That girl is still naked. "Please," she begs a heavily tattooed man.
"Grimm, how many times do I have to tell yo-" The man stands when he sees me enter the camp with Butcher.
Grimm lets out a sigh, folding her arms.
"Who's this?" The man asks.
"Her name is Sorry," Butcher laughs.
"My name is Alice."
"Oh, so she does have a name after all."
"Fuck her name, there's more important matters here," a voice behind me says. I noticed him on the roof of the station as we got closer to it. He flashes me a mouthful of teeth, resting his rifle against his shoulder. "Where'd you come from, love? And don't bullshit us. You're well groomed. That means you've got a camp somewhere."
"Don't mind Dalton," Butcher speaks up, putting himself between Dalton and me.
"Alright, you burly fuck, I get the point." Dalton ascends back up the ladder to the roof.
Butcher is rather burly, although, Dalton isn't that much shorter. I suppose it's Butcher's demeanor, well, and his appearance.
"I'm King," the man finally introduces himself. He points back at the girl. "That's Grimm."
"I have no qualms with being naked around others, so don't ask me to put on clothing on your behalf. I do what I want, when I want."
"That's what we love about you," King simpers.
Perhaps she'd feel differently if these men had malicious intentions. "You've survived this long just the four of you?"
"We had others come and go, but, yeah. It's easier with just a few people. And there's six of us. I'll introduce you to Church. He's been taking care of Laura. We can't seem to get down her fever."
"Was she bit?"
"No. My thoughts at first, too, but I think it's pneumonia."
Oh, pneumonia. That is not something I wish to have ever again.
"Laura's fever is getting worse," Church informs King when we step into the station. Church is the least menacing of the group.
"Are we out of antibiotics?"
"Yeah, for months now."
"Here." I give them the ibuprofen from my bag, though this will do little for her if they don't get her antibiotics.
"Thanks, that's real kind of you."
"I'm from a much larger group. If you'd be willing to join us, we have the means to save Laura."
"No. We make our own way."
"Butcher, I got one," Dalton huffs.
Butcher claps his hands before rubbing them together and leaving.
"Alice, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," King offers.
"Thank you, though I must be on my way in the morning." I don't follow King from the gas station, and instead stay with Church.
He's eager to talk about his research and devices he's constructed out of junk.
I don't mind the conversation. Perhaps, if I can get him to trust me and with Butcher on my side, the group will be more adamant to return to Sanctuary with me. I can see potential in all of the members.
Even though Dalton is immature, he's serious as the group's protector.
Butcher is efficient with every weapon he seems to touch.
Church's intellect surpasses most.
Laura is the group's mechanic.
King has several key survival skills, and excellent navigational skills.
Grimm aids in assisting Butcher forage for food as well as their main scavenger.
I feel guilty eating their food, but I don't want to see rude, so I join them for dinner. Thankfully, Grimm has found a pair of leggings and some loose top by now. After dinner, I expected them to retire into the gas station. Instead, the garage door is opened. There's a pickup truck in the garage. In the bed of the truck it's lined with pillows and blankets.
King explains that if an unexpected situation arises in the middle of the night, they need to be able to leave in a hurry. Being in the truck, it makes for an easy getaway.
Butcher has stayed by my side most of the evening, so it's no surprise what slithers from his mouth. "You can sleep next to me if-"
"I'm going to stop you right there. Please do not mistake my kindness for romantic feelings. I am not interested."
"I like a woman that's to the point."
He's not going to like it when Negan intervenes, and for his safety, he's wise to stop. I briefly contemplate sleeping in a tree like I have the last few nights.
"Let Alice have the corner," Butcher tells Dalton.
Dalton looks my way. "Alright, love, fight me for it." He brings his fists up some.
He… he wants me to fight him?
Butcher puts me behind him. "Fight someone your own size, motherfucker."
"No, goddamn way. She can have the corner, you burly fuck."
The night is difficult for me. I have time to dwell on the current situation. It's a little better when I've been sleeping in the infirmary, but all the way out here, all I can do is worry about Negan. I carefully climb out of the truck so I don't disturb them. Grimm and Dalton are missing, though I have a pretty good idea of what they're doing. I catch a glimpse of it when I try to sneak off into the woods. At least, they're courteous and left the truck. There's another secluded area on the other side I take advantage of.
"Alice?" Butcher kneels down next to me. "Are you okay? Do you miss home?"
I'm embarrassed, but I can't stop my tears. "I fear for someone's life."
He has a seat and puts a hesitant hand on my back as a comfort.
I appreciate his silence. He wasn't telling me that he was sorry, or trying to tell me something similar he went through to make me feel at ease. He just let me cry.
"I'm going to take you up on your offer. To come back with you to your place. Dunno if the others will, but you can count me in."
Kid is an excellent hunter, but to have Butcher on her side they will be able to accomplish so much more. "You'll be a great asset."
"Do you have a lot of people at your camp?"
"We don't have a camp. It's a factory, and there are sixty-eight of us. Well, sixty-eight and a half."
"How do you have half a person?"
"One of the girls is expecting."
"It was... a joke. Like... never mind," he reddens. "You like it at your place?"
"Yes. We are on a point system. You work for what you have, and exchange them for goods every week."
"Sounds strict. Your leader one of those pain in the ass types?"
"Yes." I break my stoic gaze and laugh.
"I don't know why we're laughing," he grins.
You will when you meet him.
...
"Bye, Officer," Grimm snickers.
"I'm going back with Alice," Butcher informs them.
"What?" King rises from the campfire.
"Look, this system was fine at first, but we can't survive the six of us. We're not getting any younger, that's for damn sure. You should consider Alice's offer. If they have the medication for Laura, and you don't go, that's on you when she dies."
Grimm makes her displeasure known. "We ain't even going to vote about this?"
"Vote if you want, I'm telling you that I'm going back with Alice. I don't want to constantly fucking worry if I'm going to wake up to the biters hovering over me. I want a roof over my head. I want a family."
"A family?" Dalton scoffs.
"Shut up, Dalton," King intervenes, then turns back to Butcher. "You're my best friend. Shit, we've been through everything together since we were five. If you feel that strongly about it, enough to leave, then we'll go."
"No," Grimm yells. "I don't want someone telling me what to do."
"I tell you what to do all the time."
"That's different, King," she pouts, stamping her foot.
I roll my eyes skyward. Another Rachel.
"Will you really help Laura if we come with you?"
"Yes." Perhaps Negan won't agree with my choice to give medication to outsiders, but I will not let someone senselessly perish.
"I want to go with Alice," Church tells them. "Laura would, too."
"You know me, I'm a nomad. Makes no difference to me. I'll start packing the truck."
With the addition of Church, and now Dalton, it seems the only one not in favor of the move is Grimm. I noticed the botany book that Grimm was reading earlier this evening. "We have a greenhouse."
"No shit?" She perks up immediately.
"I'm not deceiving you."
"Well… do you think I could work in it?"
"We put people in jobs they will excel at."
"Alright, I'm in."
"So it's settled," King starts, "we're going home."
...
I know the drive up to Sanctuary gates made even Butcher rethink his decision, but once they realized the benefit of the dead, things start to fall into place.
Grimm jumps out of the back of the truck. "Oh my god, they have electricity!"
"Butcher, get Laura."
"Yeah, I got her."
Dwight notices the new arrivals. "I was worried about you. You've been gone for days."
"Thank you for your concern. I had some matters to attend to."
"Is that girl bit?"
"No, she has pneumonia."
"Which way to the infirmary, Alice?"
"I'll show you. Dwight, would you mind helping the others?" It's strange to order Dwight around, not that I would undermine his position, but I don't believe he took it that way, nor was that my intention. "These are our Doctors. Harlan and Nicole," I inform Butcher.
Before Butcher can even put Laura down, he notices Negan. "That guy alive?"
"Yes. He sustained several life threatening injuries he's recovering from." It's not the way I wanted any of King's group to meet him, but I introduce Butcher to Negan. I thought for sure that Butcher would come to the conclusion that I am with Negan because of my comment that I feared for someone's life, but he's rather dense. Even asking me which room is mine.
He laughs it off when he sees how uncomfortable I am. "So, uh. Dinner? Or you gotta spend points to eat?"
I brought these people into Sanctuary, and no matter how much I want to stay with Negan, I feel a responsibility to them to make sure they are taken care of.
There's no one in the infirmary right before dawn. I shut the door and draw the curtain to give me privacy with him. It's difficult to do it, but every day I make sure that he has a fresh pair of clothing after I try my best to sponge bathe him, then comb his hair to perfection. His nails need trimming which I also tend to. I wipe my tears and give him a smile. "All… clean…" As I start to open the curtain, I can't leave. It's an inane thing to do, but I lie next to him minding all the tubes and wires connected to him. His scent is faint these days. I don't want to hurt his ribs, so it's a short-lived embrace. It's time to start my day, and a busy one at that. I tuck my hand in his. "I'll be back in a-"
His fingers twitch against mine.
This is a common occurrence for coma patients, so I don't get my hopes up. "I'll be back in a-"
Twitch.
"Negan?!" The monitor shows that he's still has a pulse. "Please hold on, Lout," I cry, hurrying from the infirmary to the courtyard. My chest is so tight, I am barely able to catch my breath.
Vasquez lightly touches my back.
Compose yourself, Alice. These people must be oblivious to your feelings for Negan. "I required a bit of air," I respond.
He gives me a warm smile. Vasquez doesn't wear his face mask when we're alone. He oddly fairs a striking resemblance to Negan, both size and appearance.
I've never asked why he feels safe around me, especially because he knows I'm not law enforcement. "Vasquez, you don't remember anything about your escape from the Syndicate? The location? Landmarks?"
He shakes his head no. However, he informs me of something that he has not shared with the rest. The Syndicate do in fact recruit for their group, but they have a meticulous way of doing it. Maybe he sensed my intentions to infiltrate their group because he asked me not to get any ideas before changing the subject.
"Oh, it's, uh," I stammer, fighting to keep these emotions from surfacing. "I don't know where it is. The Syndicate ambushed us and it was left behind."
Vasquez unzips his vest, then places it around me.
"No." It's ridiculous on me being it's made for a two-hundred and forty pound man, and despite my protest, he zips it up. Perhaps, it was a culmination of everything that caused me to break character. Again. It's becoming more frequent of a habit. Charli would be relieved to know I'm capable of such a thing. I just feel inadequate. "I'm fine. Please, I'd feel better if you'd take the vest."
He's quick to return before I can argue any further.
As I look the vest over, I know I must not come back to Sanctuary unless Lucille accompanies me. I pack a small bag, setting Vasquez's vest outside his door. In case I do not return to Sanctuary, I stop by to visit with Charli. Once again, my emotions are compromised. "I am trying so hard to be the woman everyone needs me to be but I am failing. I couldn't fix our father. I didn't protect you. I can't save Negan." Alice, you fool. Stop this! I recall simpler times with Charli to ease my mind.
"You're leaving again?"
"Yes," I respond to Cosworth's question.
"I won't allow you to go alone."
"I won't burden you."
He laughs, sinking his hands into his pockets. "What is it that you're looking for?"
"Lucille."
"Oh…"
"I want her to be by his side through this. I have to find her."
"Where did you get separated from her?"
"By a large body of water near a junkyard. I've taken the liberty of marking all junkyard locations. This is my last location."
"Then we'll find her," Cosworth smiles.
We must find her.
...
"You're filthy." I brush the sleeve of his white dress shirt off some.
"It's inevitable, really, but it doesn't make it easier to accept."
"I agree."
"You should wear your nice things, Alice. It's not ideal out here, but in Sanctuary there's no reason you can't dress how you want."
"I feel safer desexualizing myself."
"Who would be stupid enough to mess with you being with Negan?"
Is my relationship with Negan really that obvious? "Men have tried because I'm with Negan."
"I'm sorry to bring it up."
"I understand what you're saying, and I appreciate it."
"May I ask what attracted you to Negan?"
"His colorful dialogue."
"Private, I understand."
"That was an attempt at humor." I do trust Cosworth, so I will open up to him. "While my feelings for him are private, my reasoning's for being with him are not. Negan is the ideal mate in multiple aspects. We have a mutual respect for each other. His arrogance challenges mine which is stimulation of the mind that I require. With Negan there is room to grow, advance, excel."
"Thank you."
"I do not understand."
"Confirmation that Rachel and I are not suitable companions."
"That's unfortunate, especially considering the child."
"She deceived me with the pregnancy. An attempt to prolong our relationship."
"Pathetic," I snarl, opening my map. It's lowered as my eyes shift up to him. "Do you need to speak more on Rachel?"
"As in my feelings about it?"
"Correct."
"No. I have no feelings about it."
"Very well."
"Alice?"
"I am still listening."
He forces the map down some. "I've always admired how you deal with hardships without any complaint. Your intellect is stunning, and intimidating."
"As is yours. You saved Negan's life."
"We all did, but truthfully, you saved his life. I don't just mean now. He's not the same without you, and you don't need my intellect to notice."
Hearing his words brings me great comfort.
"I never thanked you for taking me in, Alice."
"You did."
"If I did, it was to appease you all so I wouldn't be left behind. I'm telling you now, thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Much farther?"
"We're less than half a mile from our destination." We're both exhausted, but get a second wind.
"What was Charli like?"
"Puerile, somewhat abrasive, and always infuriating."
"Sounds like Negan."
"Yes, Charline was a female personification of Negan, and I loved it." I stop as tears trickle down my cheeks without warning. "I apologize for not being in control of my emotions."
"I hope you find comfort in me saying you may have lost your family, but I consider you a part of mine."
"Yes," I smile, "and I enjoy that bond with you."
He wipes my tears, and returns the smile, though to be fair, Cosworth always has an amused expression.
An admirable trait he possesses that I cannot. My brow furrows as I spin on my heel. "I don't understand. It should be right here." It's like we're on top of where the body of water should be.
"Perhaps we should camp here for the night and start fresh in the morning?"
Yes, he is the voice of reason that I'm struggling with at this moment because of my persistence to find Lucille.
"There. By the ivy."
This is most troublesome. According to the map, this is the location. I know that I didn't- "Cosworth," I panic, shoving him out of the way.
The dead pour out of the ivy by the dozens.
"Alice, run!"
I launch my knife, killing one of the dead near Cosworth, and attempt to yank the other one from him.
The brute weight from it sends it back on me. As we both fall to the ground, the ledge gives away, and we fall forty feet down. The dead absorbs most of the impact from the fall as it explodes when it reaches the bottom. It's the hidden spring we've landed at.
"Alice," Cosworth's voice echoes.
It's the last time I hear his voice. I'm fading in and out of consciousness as I watch several of the undead fall from the cliff. I notice Lucille on the other side of the water, but I'm unable to move, and I can't feel my legs. Is it possible the fall has paralyzed me? I wail from the excruciating shooting pain in my back when I attempt to drag myself across the sand. The undead are closing in from all sides. Negan is familiar with this area. When he wakes up from his coma, he will come looking for Lucille. My only hope is that they consume me entirely so that Negan's last memory of me isn't finding my body partially devoured by the dead.
A/N If you are caught up with the comics, yes, I've introduced Laura (former Savior and possible love interest of Dwight) in this chapter. Not much is known on her, so I'm just making her up as I go along. With the addition of King, Butcher, Grimm, Church, and Dalton, this completes the Stigmatic family. I know I have a piss load of OC's and they are hard to keep up with. Sadly, with the addition, comes death, and there's going to be some painful death's on the way. I know it's been a while since I've updated, but I just had to figure out the direction I wanted to go with this. My original plan for this chapter was to kill Alice and Negan, then mark Stigmatic complete because issue 156 made me question my Negan being OOC. I get pretty discouraged about this story a lot of times. Thanks for bearing with me while I fleshed everything out.