Content Warning: mentions of rape and violence.

The alarm reverberates in what sounds like a full, continuous circle out in the hall as Laura does the belt to her pants. She doesn't seem scared or unnerved by the wailing noise, just annoyed because it woke her up.

"Where are you going?" I nervously ask her.

"Security breech means that there's likely an intruder, which means I have to do my part in finding and apprehending them." She answers as she pulls her hair back. There's a brief pound on the door as footsteps briskly walk by on the other side. I know it's just someone giving us a heads up, or call to action, but it still makes fear encroach on me. "Hopefully that fucking alarm will shut off soon."

I rise up from the mattress, pulling my hair back as well. "Want me to come with you?"

Laura's eyes dart over to me and she looks as if she's going to ask if I'm joking. "Uh, no," She shakes her head, "You're gonna stay here and not leave until the situation is under control."

"But I can help."

"Don't be stupid, Nan," Laura clips her holster on and then walks over to her cubby shelf, "You're pregnant and if you got hurt or killed, it'd be my fault and I don't know what would be worse; the guilt I'd feel, or the pain from getting clubbed with Lucille." She pulls out a small revolver and hands it to me. "Remember that you shoot with your left hand and if someone who isn't us comes in, shoot them."

I look at her with distress. "Yeah, okay."

Laura nods and then is out the door with no fear. When the door closes, I exhale sharply and begin to pace among the siren. I swear the noise is the equivalent of a throbbing headache. I wonder how serious the situation is, how many intruders there are, and just how much damage they could potentially do before they're caught. It doesn't take me long to become sick with worry about Hal, as he sometimes does perimeter rounds at night. Oh god, what if he's hurt...or worse? I take deeper breaths to stop myself from having a panic attack and from throwing up.

And what about Dwight? Something bad can just as likely happen to him, too. I glance at the clock at reads one a.m. and my mind starts to drift to when I saw Dwight last. It was early yesterday morning. I ended up sleeping over in Hal's room, because him and Laura where playing "Shot Scrabble" which is just Scrabble, but Laura found a way to involve tequila, and well...after a couple of shots, three's a crowd. Hal didn't have any more coffee left and so I made it the perfect excuse to go ask Dwight for some, knowing that he'd invite me to stay for breakfast.

I almost worked up the nerve to ask him about the letter I wrote to him weeks ago, when I was still married to Negan. I know I told him to burn it after reading it which if I'm not mistaken, he did, but I still wonder why he hasn't mentioned it. I know it wasn't the most brief, well- organized letter, but I was opening myself up to him, not writing the next great American novel. Although I didn't know then that I would leave Negan, I thought the letter would make us better friends, but it didn't really, even after I ended my marriage. Well, I guess it doesn't matter, since we're friends now.

What if he's hurt? What if he's...stop thinking about it. I sit down in Laura's soft chair to block out my unwanted thoughts, as well as keep myself from recklessly going out there to go search for Dwight and Hal. I mess with the hem of my shorts that I sewed myself after I cut pajama pants because of the heat. I tuck the string into the shorts to keep from pulling them apart. What if something bad does happen? I'd be absolutely racked with the guilt for not helping, or at least trying to help.

Right as I'm about to get up, resolved to leave the room, the alarm finally stops. Does that mean that everything's alright now? I can hear someone coming down the hall and so I go over to the door and cautiously open it, peering out through the crack. When I see that it's someone I recognize, I open the door more.

"Hey," I call to Ada and she turns around, "What's going on?"

"They got the intruder," She answers with a yawn, "She's being taken to the cells. Four people are dead." Ada continues down the hall to the third floor to go back to bed.

I enter the hallway with the revolver still in my hand and go down the other way, passing some people who are also returning to their rooms. I get a few words of information from their grumbling chatter with one another. Something about a woman cutting through the fence on the west end and making it as far as the east end of the factory. There's no light coming from under Dwight's door, but I still knock. Nothing. I open the door and find the room empty like I had last night. He probably left to go help with the security breach like everyone else.

I stand in the doorframe with the door almost closed, waiting for him, or Laura, or even Hal to come by. Come to think of it, maybe I should go check on Marisol. Whose the most vulnerable in these situations if not the workers that live out in the open? I shut Dwight's door, deciding to check on him later and head in the opposite direction of traffic.

"Nan!" I make out Laura up ahead and can see that she's not too pleased. "What the hell? I said to stay inside!"

"The intruder's been caught," I say as I gently push past some people, "I'm just going to check on my friend down in the quarters." Some Savior gives me a weird look as he goes by for calling a worker a friend.

Laura takes me by the elbow and turns me around. "She's fine, all the workers are fine, okay? So let's go back to bed and get a few hours of sleep before we have to get up."

I reluctantly comply and go with her back to her room. She groans as she closes the door, working out some stiffness in her neck and rolling her shoulders. After putting the gun back in the cubby Laura got it from, I sit on the bed with my hands wringing in my lap, as she gets undressed. Laura's body is far more tattooed than mine. Before I moved in with her, I had only ever seen the one on her neck and forearm, but now that I have seen her naked, I've discovered that she's pretty hardcore.

I take another deep breath and exhale. "Did you see Hal?"

"Yeah, he's fine," Laura comes over to the bed and slides under the blankets, "He was in the north end of the factory when the intruder busted in."

"Good," I fidget with my newly healed finger, "What about Dwight? Did you see him?"

"No, but he wasn't one of the guys that was killed, so I'm sure he's fine, too"

I nod and then get under the blankets to lie back down. "Yeah."

Laura shifts until her back is facing me. "Why don't you just go check on him if you're so worried?"

"No, I'll wait 'til morning." I turn on my side and stare at the door until my eyes close.

...

The scene is so placid, it's almost too good to be true. It all went from utter chaos to serenity in a fraction of a second. I gaze down into the grave where my legs hang, trying to make out just how far down it is. I can smell the cold, wet earth; a scent that I've always oddly liked for some reason, even as a kid. Like when I would open my bedroom window after it rained and take in the smell of wet asphalt and dirt from the garden.

"Doesn't look too bad down there, huh?" I startle at the person that's materialized out of nowhere next to me. He smiles at me, before looking down in the grave. "Seems nice and cool and quiet."

I glance back down into the hole. "Yeah, perfect place for a dirt nap."

He snickers softly. "Or...the perfect place to spend the eternity as worm food."

"Shut up, Charles." I roll my eyes.

"Well, isn't this prime real estate for people like me?"

I look at him and he looks perfectly fine. The remainder of his arm that had to be severed looks nicely healed, instead of infected. "You don't look like you're ready to buy yet."

Charlie's smile gleams my way. "I always wanted a place to call my own."

"What about that townhouse we were talking about? We could go back. I bet the mortgage is nothing now."

He laughs. "Yeah, I bet."

An eerie sound breezes into the air, like a whistle, and I turn my head over my shoulder. "We could leave now," I push myself back until my legs are no longer in the below, "Wouldn't it be nice to go back to Philly?"

Charlie doesn't move, except to glance at me. "Why? There's nothing back there for us anymore."

"I know, but..." I cross my legs, instead of standing like I was planning to, "But we could build something new, can't we?"

He shakes his head with a sympathetic grin. "No, baby, we can't."

Tears blur my vision. "Why not?"

"You know why not."

The whistling sound is beginning to become less faint. "Well, then maybe we can settle here," I peer over to the deep grave, "in this...prime real estate."

Charlie shakes his head again. "No, it'd be a little cramped with you down there."

"You don't want to build a life with me anymore?" I sniff.

"Kind of hard to do when one of us is dead."

"You look alive and well to me."

"Yeah, but I'm not. I mean, I'm okay, but I'm dead. Very dead, while you are very much alive."

I scan the woods for movement, because the whistling is getting closer. "So, are you saying we've grown apart?"

"Afraid so." He looks out into the woods, but casually and not in search of the whistlers.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

Charlie chuckles. "It's not you, it's me."

More tears fill my eyes. "No more second chances?"

"Nope," He reaches over and pats my leg, "but you'll be okay."

"What do you know?" I acridly retort.

"Nan, what does your knee say?"

"What?" My head turns in the direction of a loud, cool whistle.

"Looks like the cavalry's rolling in."

My eyes blink back to him. "I don't want to go with them, I want to stay with you."

"Well, you can't, Nan."

I touch his shoulder. "Please let me stay with you."

"No," He smiles, assuring, "You need to go with them."

"What if it's a bad place where they take me?"

"Do what your knee says."

"What?" The whistling circles all around us and disorients me to the point that my senses start to dull. "What does that mean?"

"I love you dearly, Anna." Charlie starts to ease himself into the grave and I grip his shirtsleeve to stop him.

"No," I suddenly feel weak as my vision darkens, "No, don't go." My grasp on his sleeve appears to be shallow and it turns out that I'm not actually holding onto anything. "Charlie, wait." He continues to smile at me as he sits on the very edge of the grave, looking back. Everything turns black and I'm knocked out.

...

"Ow!" Laura grunts, putting a hand to her thigh. "You kicked me!"

I sit up in bed, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry," I wipe some sweat from the side of my face, "Bad dream."

"What time is it?"

I look over to the clock that tells me it's been four hours since all the excitement. "Five- fifteen."

"I'm guessing you're getting up?"

"Yeah, I am." I'm not going back to sleep after that upsetting dream.

"Okay, but keep it down, please," She pulls the blankets up, "And if I don't wake up at seven, give me a nudge."

"Okay." I gingerly pad over to the kitchenette and look for something to eat for breakfast.

We're running low on coffee, but for some reason the thought of a nice, piping hot cup of coffee with milk and sugar makes me want to barf, so I'm not heartbroken that there's not enough to make a cup. I glance over all of the food we have and the only thing that sounds good right now is some toast with over medium eggs and hash browns. Unfortunately, Laura doesn't have any bread, or potatoes. Dwight has all that stuff.

I peak over at Laura, who looks like she might be asleep again, before tiptoeing over to my trunk and carefully pulling out some jeans and a clean shirt. Once I'm dressed and have tied my shoes, I quietly leave the room and tread as softly as I can through the halls. I don't hear stirring of any kind behind closed doors, so I'm assuming that most everyone's too tired to be early birds this morning. I didn't really do anything last night, so I guess my routine wasn't thrown off too badly.

When I'm at Dwight's door, I put my ear close and listen. All is quiet, but he could be sleeping, or just being courteous to his neighbors. I rap my knuckle on the door lightly so I don't make too much noise, but loud enough so that he can hear me. Nothing, again.

"Dwight?" I half- whisper, tapping on the door again. After not getting an answer, I open the door and am met with vacancy. Where is he? I step in and look around, observing that absolutely nothing appears to be moved or changed since I checked yesterday around six. Now I'm really starting to worry. Maybe he went to the bathroom.

I head further down the hall towards the bathrooms. I hear the couple that are Hal's neighbors quietly talking in their room. Everything else is so silent, that I can pick up on what they're saying.

"Don't say shit like that, Neal." Rachel murmurs.

"Why? I'm not torn up about it." Her husband responds.

"Because, it's not okay to rejoice in someone's death, asshole."

"It's not like I'm not dancing on his grave, Rach," Neal whispers, chuckling, "I just don't care that he's dead."

I turn the corner before I can hear Rachel's response. I'm hopeful when the gentle rushing of water in a sink comes from the men's bathroom. He's okay. The water turns off and soon after, a man exits, but it's not the man I'm looking for. It's this one Savior that lives up on the fourth floor. He looks half asleep as he uses his t-shirt to dry his hands. He ignores me as he passes.

"Hello?" I call out into the bathroom, but I get no reply except my own voice echoing off the walls. Fuck. I cross my arms and head back to Laura's. Where's he at?

Later on, I meet Reed in his office. Aside from all the chatter, everything seems to be normal, as if nothing happened last night. The workers are all getting up to work and the Saviors are all moving about in their usual fashion as well. Reed tells me to go find Keller to ask about the burning of the casualties, so I head down towards the basement. My eyes scour every face that comes into sight, looking for Dwight. But I come up empty handed every single time. Every minute I don't see, or hear him, makes me even more anxious than the last.

"Hey," Hal comes up behind me and walks with me, "Some night we had. Bloody hell."

"Tell me about it," I smile, "Hey, have you seen Dwight?"

"Mm, no. Why?"

I shake my head. "No reason. I gotta go down to the basement and trust me, you don't want to follow, so I'll see ya around."

"See ya."

Down where the incinerators are is where I find Keller and the four men who were killed by the intruder. The bodies are wrapped in tarp and sheets, but it's hardly funeral shroud and more because it makes it easier to drag them down here.

"Mornin'," Keller pours some brandy into a steaming mug, "Reed want to know about cremation?"

"Yeah."

He takes a swallow from the mug. "Well, tell him that I'm-" He stops mid- sentence as he peers over my shoulder and then kneels. I look over my shoulder and sigh as I get down on one knee as well.

"Hello, hello," Negan approaches us with Lucille lazily down by his side, "The incinerator almost ready?"

Keller stands up. "Yes, sir. I was just telling her that I was about to fire it up." I rise as well and am surprised when Keller lightly helps me up under my arm. I'm flattered and all, but I'm not that pregnant that I need help standing. It does make me wonder though if Negan will expect me to kneel when I am that pregnant.

"Good, fire her up and get 'em in. Make sure the fuckin' vents are open all the way." Negan orders, smiling over at me when he's done.

Keller goes over to crank open the shutter like vents that'll prevent the fumes from the burning bodies from aerating into the factory. I look down at the dead as he does so, ignoring Negan's presence. That's when I notice that one of the bodies that's wrapped in a blue tarp looks familiar. I squat down and peel back the tarp and am confronted with a disturbing sight. His eyes are closed, but his mouth is slightly agape and no longer holding a smoldering grin like it use to. A gunshot wound is nearly right smack dab in the middle of his forehead and I can see the bullet lodged inside. Despite that and the trickle of blood, Yancy seems somewhat peaceful, like he's just asleep.

"Tragic, isn't it?" Negan drably says, not wholly concerned. "I'm down four good men. Damn shame."

I stick my tongue in my cheek at his lack of true compassion for his fallen soldiers. "Yeah." I cover Yancy's face back up, feeling guilty, before standing again. "Only four people died?"

"Lucky for me, right?" Negan's eyes momentarily flicker behind me where Keller can be heard starting the incinerator. "That woman has quite the fuckin' pair on her, I'm telling ya."

"Who is she?"

He looks at me and furrows his brows, before chuckling. "Ah, hell, I didn't catch her name last night before I had her thrown in the brig."

"So," I startle a little, looking back at the incinerator that backfires before it produces flames, "She came by herself?"

"Yes, but whether she came on her own, or was sent is the bigger fuckin' question," Negan answers candidly, "She got pretty fuckin' far before she was stopped. What a woman."

I nod my head and bite the corner of my lip. "Where's she from?"

"Look at you, asking a million questions. Normally you avoid talking to me like you fuckin' avoid celibacy." He throatily chuckles, making me scowl.

"Never mind." I go to move around him to leave.

Negan holds Lucille out like a barrier. "Still can't take a fucking joke, I see." I just look at him, not amused, so he rolls his eyes with a smirk. "Alright, alright, our little warrior is from Alexandria."

"Alexandria?"

"Yep, Eugene identified her to be from that clusterfuck of dicks."

The heat from the incinerator radiates over and makes me instantly feel uncomfortable. "I have to get back to work." Negan looks me over and nods without a word, letting me pass. Ask him about Dwight. I cease mid- step upon realizing that Negan's probably the only one who would know where Dwight is, if he's gone somewhere.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" He calls behind me, while lifting one end of a body as Keller picks up the other. "One foot in front of the other."

I roll my shoulders and sigh. "Yeah, thanks."

By two o'clock, I still haven't found out anything on Dwight's whereabouts. I've asked about him to other Saviors and have even gone back to his room several times, but nothing and no one seems to be fruitful to my search. Tension makes my shoulders feel heavy and seeing Yancy dead certainly doesn't help the case either.

I can't help but feel like his death is on me. If I hadn't done something so petty like play on Negan's jealousy to get back at Yancy because he thought I was easy, then he might not have died last night. He liked being on the nine to three shifts and I took that away and inadvertently caused his death. Sure, Yancy was an asshole, but all in all, he wasn't a bad guy. He must have been whom Neal and Rachel were talking about this morning.

"Hey!" Reed shouts at me from across the factory, causing some others to look my way. When I look over at him, he curls his finger at me to come over. "Has Keller burned the bodies, yet? You were supposed to tell me as soon as it was done."

"Oh, yeah," I tuck some hair behind my ear, "He did it about four hours ago."

"Good and how close to being done are you?"

"I'm done." I hand over my clipboard for him to inspect. A cog in my head creaks forward a little. "Hey, you happen to know where Dwight is?" Aside from Negan, Reed is about the only person I haven't asked and he might know, if it involved using any resources.

He looks over from the clipboard. "Dwight?"

"Yeah," I mess with the finger that was broken, "I, um...I haven't seen him since yesterday morning and I was wondering if he left Sanctuary."

Reed raises a brow. "Well, if he did, I haven't heard about it."

Fuck. "Okay."

He hands me back my clipboard. "Looks good." I glumly nod in response. "Hey, do me a favor and go to the east yard and see if any bikes are missing."

I glance up with bewilderment. "Why would any..." Oh, right. Dwight would probably take a bike if he left. I thought he was implying that there was a second intruder. Stupid. "Okay."

"Alright, we'll reconvene in two hours, collect all the point cards, and then call it a day." Reed walks off without a confirmation.

...

The easiest way to get to the east yard is to go down pass the cells, instead of going outside and walking all the way around. For some reason, I feel slightly nervous to go down there. I can't say that I'm particularly afraid of the intruder that's locked away in a small, closet sized room, but my nerves still coil inside me as I make my way to the cells. What is wrong with that community? Alexandria. They've been so cooperative the last few months and now this. Haven't they learned by now that it's safer to just comply?

After what I saw in that Polaroid, I don't blame the woman who broke in and mowed down four of our men, but doesn't anyone from Alexandria have any rationality? There will be heavy consequences for this. No one at the Sanctuary would even think to step a baby toe in any direction without Negan giving the word to do so, so what kind of leader is this Rick guy to let his people, let alone his son, roam around without a status of their whereabouts? Maybe I'm just a little frustrated right now, because I can't find Dwight and I'm really concerned. I guess I should commend them somewhat for being the only people ballsy enough to give Negan a hard time.

A whistle makes me groan inwardly. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. "Hey, good lookin', " Negan appears on my left, just as I'm coming up on the hall where the cells are, "Where ya headed?"

I glance over my shoulder, noticing another Savior trailing behind us. "The east yard to make sure the bikes weren't tampered with."

"Cool, mind if I walk with you? Ah, what am I talking about? Of course, you don't mind." He puts an arm around my shoulder.

I rub my index finger across my thumb. Shit, I'm going to have to ask him. "Hey, um, I was wondering if y-" I stop, both in speech and in motion as my eyes set sight on an open cell door. There's some talking coming from the inside. I look up at Negan who I don't need to point it out to, because his eyes are furrowed in that direction.

He takes his arm from my shoulder and walks forward, as does the other Savior, and I look behind me before following them. Oh god, what is this? Right as he gets to the door, Negan halts, standing by the wall right out before the entrance, listening. I stay about six feet behind the two of them, listening, too. A man can be heard talking and...wait, is that...Davy's voice?

Negan lifts Lucille and abruptly bangs her hard against the metal doorframe. "What are you doing?!" He asks with a faint humor in his voice.

"Sir," Davy says, obviously not expecting Negan to come by, "I was, uh, just-"

"I didn't tell anyone to check on her, so what the fuck are you doing down here?"

"Well, I just thought th-that, um...that I'd offer her some water." Davy stammers to explain and the burly Savior and myself move over to the other side of the hall, where Davy and the prisoner are in view beyond Negan's tall figure. A woman with warm brown skin sits in the corner of the cell with nervous eyes and a ripped shirt.

"You were offering her some water?"

"Yes, sir."

Negan chuckles humorlessly. "So, where's the fucking water at?" Davy opens his mouth to speak, but Negan doesn't give him the chance. "David, were you trying to rape this girl?"

"Wha- N-no, sir I-I wasn't-"

"Because that's what it fuckin' looks like to me," Negan states, putting his hand on the handle of the knife on his belt, "And isn't rape against the rules, Davy?"

"Y-yes, sir, i-it is." Davy's voice sounds almost like a whimper.

Negan looks back at me and the other Savior out in the hall with a slight smirk, handing me Lucille to hold. "Nan, Harry, what's the rule about rape again?"

"We don't rape." Harry and I say in unison, except I have a little uneasiness in my voice about what Negan's going to do.

"Motherfucking right, we don't," Negan looks back at Davy, "Its that fuckin' simple. We don't rape. It's against our rules and frankly, I wouldn't want to fucking live in a place where it fucking wasn't. Say it."

"W-we don't rape." Davy mutters.

"Good, good," Negan clicks his tongue in thought, before sighing, "Well, I know you know the rules, so I'm real fucking sure that you are aware of the consequences for breaking this very serious rule."

Davy makes a fearful noise. "I-I'm sorry, sir. P-please."

Negan appears like he's thinking it over, but my eyes move to his hand closing around the handle of the knife and before I have time to blink, he pulls it from the sheath and drives it through Davy's neck. Davy's eyes widen, choking and gagging on his own saliva and blood.

"Apology not fuckin' accepted," Negan says, sliding the blade out of Davy's neck, dropping his body to the ground, "And rules are rules."

My eyes feel dry from not blinking, stunned. Negan sighs heavily, which finally gets me to regain focus towards him. He's looking down at the woman who looks just as shocked as me, but in more of a confused manner. Negan shifts his weigh to one leg. "I'm sorry you had to see that...what's your name?"

"Sasha." She answers.

"Sasha?" Negan replies. "That is a beautiful name. Well, Sasha, I know that might have been unpleasant to witness, but I want to you to know one thing." He crouches down to eye level. "We are not monsters." Sasha just stares at him with skepticism and a little bit of fear. "Nan."

All my breathing gathers in my chest. "Yeah?"

Negan turns his head towards me. "Help a girl out and go get Sasha a new shirt, please."

I hand Harry Lucille and go off to Laura's room to find a shirt. I know I could just go to the commissary and get one, which would probably be faster, but I need to take a breather after what I just saw.

I basically run to the second floor stairs and once inside, I drudge up the steps, until I reach the halfway level. There, I double over, placing my hands on my knees and breathe laboriously. I think I'm going to be sick. Not from the gory end of Davy, necessarily, but by the lighter than air feeling I got once he hit the floor.

It feels like a combination of finally being free from having to worry about Davy and being on the verge of passing out. I am in no way sorry to see Davy go; he was dangerous. He threatened me on numerous occasions and I think he even threatened my unborn child. He also confirmed my suspicions of how vile he can actually be. But this sense of no longer having to keep my eye out for him comes with some other panic. Panic that I might have felt some sick satisfaction in seeing Negan kill him. What sort of person am I for feeling like that?

I get a hold of myself and climb the second flight of stairs to the second floor. I pass Hal's room and then stop halfway at Dwight's. Please be in there this time. I open the door and am disappointed. Fuck. I shut his door and trek on. Once in Laura's room, I fish out a white, long sleeved shirt that I never wear.

"We all have shit to get over." Negan's tone sounds serious as he steps out of the cell. He looks my way and grins, putting his hand out for the shirt. "Thank you." He tosses it into the cell and then closes the door. I feel light-headed and pallid, like I can feel the color draining from my face. Negan takes Lucille from Harry and glances me over. "You alright there, honey?"

"I'm...I'm fi-" My eyes roll back and my knees buckle.

"Shit!"

...

Familiar voices converse in the background. My eyelids flutter as they try to close, even though I keep trying to open them. My right elbow stings and the back of my head is sore. I smell lavender, which Laura uses in a spray bottle to spritz all over the bed to help relax at night. She doesn't seem like the type of girl that's interested in aromatherapy, but it's nice, so I don't raise questions.

I blink a few times to fight the sleepiness that tries to win you over when you first wake up. I lift my head and immediately feel the lub- dub like pounding, which causes me to groan lightly. The voices that seem muffled stop talking.

"Nan?" It's Harlan. He comes into sight and looks down on me. "Nan, do you know where you're at right now?"

I look around just to be sure. "Laura's room."

A blaring light is suddenly flashed in my face and I wince. "Keep your eyes open, please, and follow the light." My eyes roll back and forth, then up and down with the light. "Do you know what day it is?"

I knit my brows and start to sit up. "What-"

"Please lay still, for a few more moments," Harlan instructs, "Do you know what day it is?"

I scoff. "It's Wednesday. The...twenty-eighth of June."

"Good."

I glance up at him, puzzled, but lose expression when I see whom he'd been talking to. "What's going on?"

"You fainted in the fucking hallway," Negan says with some amusement, "I brought you here and had the doc come and check you out."

I look back to Harlan with mild skepticism. "Fainted?"

"Yes," The doctor nods, "Do you know where you're at right now?"

I push myself up, troubling my one elbow. "I'm in Laura's room. You already asked me that question."

"Just making sure you don't have a concussion, which it doesn't appear that you do, so that's good."

"My baby?" I ask with a dry throat.

"Is perfectly fine," Harlan smiles, "You didn't sustain any serious trauma, or injuries."

My hand touches the back of my skull. "Then why does my head hurt?"

"Because you fell back against the wall and I couldn't stop your dome from smacking against it." Negan chuckles.

I'm given an aspirin and some water by Harlan, which I gladly take the pill and gulp down all of the water. "Why did I faint?" I've never fainted before. Passed out drunk, sure, but fainted for no reason? Never.

"Have you had anything to eat or drink today?" Harlan asks.

I think for a second and close my eyes, sighing. "No, I...forgot."

"Then maybe a little dehydration and hypoglycemia." He stands up and goes to the door. "I recommend maybe taking the rest of the day off, if that's allowed," He looks sheepishly towards Negan, "And eat something."

"Thank you, I will." I shyly smile as he exits.

My smile wanes when my eyes travel back to Negan, who hasn't left. My cheeks start to rosy up out of embarrassment from fainting in front of Sir-Has-No-Shame. Well, I guess that one time he lost his hard on kind of threw him off his cool, but hey, I didn't get to choose my mutant gift.

He has a seat in Laura's chair, which he scooted up closer to the bed. "You gave me a fucking scare there, sweetheart."

I criss- cross my legs under the blanket that was evidently put over me. "Thanks for...not letting me hit the ground."

"You are very fucking welcome, An- Nan." He smiles, putting his ankle on his other knee. "I hope I didn't give you too bad a fright over ol' rapey Davy."

"No," I firmly murmur, "I...I'm glad he's dead." I wiggle my nose, agitated with myself.

"Nan?"

I look back to him and see what appears like a glint of worry, or anger behind his sober eyes. "Hm?"

"I know you and that shitty excuse for a man had issues before. A fuck ton, let's say."

"Yeah?"

Negan gives me a careful up and down. "Would what he tried to do to Sasha be the reason why?"

I mouth an understanding 'oh', nodding and then shaking my head. "No, he didn't. But I think he might have." The thought becomes more solid to me after I say it. He very well might have. He could've in the stairwell a few weeks ago. Hell, that time he trashed my room in the middle of the night, sometime after I had gone to Dwight's, could've been another close call. "He threatened me on my way to my last doctor's appointment," My eyes peer up to Negan's, "He told me that I needed to play nice to avoid pissing off the wrong person."

Negan doesn't look happy. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrug, truly unaware of why I hadn't. "I don't know."

He sighs. "Well, I'm relieved to know that you weren't. Made me sick to think I might've overlooked something."

I fiddle with my finger. "Thanks."

"How's the broken digit?"

"It's not broken anymore, but it gets stiff a lot. Sometimes it only feels mechanical...I don't know if I'll play the piano again," Our eyes meet, "Not like I do that anymore, anyway."

"I don't know, seems like it could be in the realm of possibility." Negan looks casually around the room.

I huff softly. "Highly unlikely."

He chuckles. "Your finger will be fine and dandy if you give it some time."

I peer over to the clock that reads four on the dot. "I should go help Reed with the books." I start to get up and feel a tad woozy.

"Nah, I told Reed you were out of commission for the rest of the day." Negan stands up and moseys over to the fridge.

"I can't accept that." I force myself to get out of bed and look around for my shoes.

"Excuse me?" He straightens up from looking in the fridge. "I say you've got a pass from the, what, two or three hours you've got left in the work day and you're turning it down?"

"Reed already let me go early once," I explain, "I need to save my maternity days."

Negan laughs, pulling out two eggs. "Well, believe it or not, Nan, I have more authority than Reed, so you're not doing the books today."

He clicks on Laura's camping stove. "How do you like your eggs?"

I sigh, giving in to my growling stomach. "Over medium." I walk over to the cupboards and get out the remaining honey mustard pretzels. I spot the chocolate milk mix that Yancy gave me awhile back. I take it out as well, remembering that we've got milk.

"What an award winning meal you're scraping up there, Nan." Negan chuckles as he cracks the eggs.

I sullenly get into the fridge for the milk. "Yancy gave me this mix that everyone thinks is for hot chocolate," I scoop some of the powder into a nearby glass, "but it's for milk."

"Huh," He opens the cupboard, "What'd he give it to you for? As some cheap gift to get into your pants?"

I stir my chocolate milk. "Yeah, but I didn't know that." I leave the milk and my pretzels on the table and go to the door. "I'll be right back."

I don't knock on Dwight's door before entering, knowing that it's empty. I take a potato and two slices of bread that Dwight cut up a couple days ago and, disheartened, leave the room. I return to Laura's and see Negan sitting in the chair, cringing has he eats one of the pretzels.

"Jesus, these are fucking disgusting," He sets the bag down, "Your eggs are in the pan."

"Thanks," I get out a knife and grater, "You can go now."

Negan takes a sip from my milk and makes another face, before standing. "That's a little too rich for my blood, fucking hell." He picks up Lucille by the coat rack, astoundingly not about to stay just to spite me. " Well, I gotta go check on Sasha, make sure Davy didn't turn and eat her face off. Take care, mama bear."

"Hey, wait," I call and he glances my way, "Have you seen Dwight? I haven't seen him since yesterday and no one else has either."

Negan displays some mild annoyance in my question, but nods. "Yeah, I sent him to go out to this rendezvous point, where I figured Daryl might have gone to hide, considering it's empty majority of the time."

My nervously touch my bump. "Well, how far out is it?"

He looks me over. "Not like a day or two's journey, if that's what you're asking," He nonchalantly strides back over to me, "Afraid he bit the dust? That Daryl got the fuckin' drop on him?"

I don't let myself tear up. "Why are you looking for him? Daryl? He's been missing for months, now. Do you honestly think he's even in Virginia still?"

"I heard a rumor that he might be right under our nose and since he's still mine, I want him found and brought back."

Rumor? From Sasha, maybe? I sigh, letting my shoulders droop. "Well, have you heard anything from Dwight? Via radio?"

Negan shakes his head. "Nope, but Dwight's a big boy who take care of himself and I trust that he'll come back"

I nod, gloomily. "I'm just worried about him."

He makes a grunt like he's displeased. "Well, like I said; if he's alive, he'll come back."

I twist my mouth to the side to avoid pouting. "My eggs are getting cold."

Negan's eyes study me calmly. "Alright, I gotta go, because unlike you, I have shit still to do."

"Okay, bye."

He leans down and nicely pecks me on the top of the forehead. "See ya around."

...

I head over to the cells around seven to try and slip Sasha a granola bar, since I know that prisoners don't really get steak and wine here. It's nothing noble, just what I feel is the decent thing to do, especially after what happened with Davy. I would bring her more, but I can't fit much under the door and I don't have keys.

She must be pretty formidable, breaking in on her own, but I know that I saw fear on her face. Natural, I suppose when you're locked in a cell, almost get raped, and then witness a grisly death. What? When I come up on the cells, Eugene is already there with the door open. He turns his head towards my direction and timidly lowers his eyes. He says something to Sasha and then closes the door to her cell, taking keys out, and locking it.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Pardon me?" He replies, confused.

I point to the door. "What were you doing? Did Negan give you clearance to talk to her?" I don't mean to sound like a Savior, but another escaped prisoner is the last thing this place needs right now and Eugene can't be stupid enough to think he won't be immediately suspected.

Eugene gives me an authoritative look. "Yes, ma'am, I do have clearance to talk to my friend, by the man himself. As a matter of fact, I was sent to provide her with a meal, a blanket, and a nice pillow to make her accommodations more suitable. That being said, I think the real question is what brings you down here?"

Whoa. I'm taken back by his curtness. "I..." I bring forth the granola bar, "I was going to give her this, because I didn't know if she was going to be fed, or not."

I don't want to seem cocky, but I don't think I'd get in trouble if I Negan found out. Not just because he apparently was going to treat her better than Daryl, but because I'm pregnant and he believes it's his. I wouldn't say I'm untouchable, but I am pretty secure, at least until I give birth.

Eugene looks down at the bar in my hand. "That granola is beyond its expiration date."

I sigh irritably. "I know, but it's just oats and almonds, so I figured it wouldn't matter."

He nods. "Well, as kind as that is, the prisoner is being well- looked after, thank you."

"Okay," I breathe through my nose, "Is she going to be okay? Like...what's going to happen to her?"

Eugene starts to walk, so I just follow him. "If she bats for team Negan, I imagine things will work out in her favor."

"And if she is still loyal to all your friends back at Alexandria?"

He doesn't look at me as he continues down the hall with me by his side. "You've been here longer than me, correct? I suspect you know, as well as I do, the repercussions of her actions."

I look down at the floor as I walk. I'm actually surprised that Negan would offer her a place here after what she did. "So, you were trying to convince to her to play ball?"

"I attempted to make her see our side of things, yes."

Our side? I scoff. "Well, maybe she can't forgive and forget all that's happened."

Eugene stops abruptly and faces me. "And what exactly do you figure you know about all that's happened between my former associates and Negan?"

I arch a brow. "I know that Daryl didn't deserve to be stripped naked and stuck in a cell with blaring music, and fed dog food sandwiches. He didn't deserve to be robbed of his humanity and treated like a slave."

Eugene stares at me for a minute, glancing down at my bump for a brief second. "Have a good night and please allow my friend some peace." He then stalks off without me.

I return to Laura's room, finding her eating dinner, and leave right after I collect my shower stuff. I bring along my radio, just in case Dwight tells the guards at the gates to open up upon his return. My shower's rather dull. I just stare blankly at the lockers that never hold anything other than dry clothes and towels temporarily for whomever's in the showers. I wash my hair and clean my body just like anybody else would and when I'm done, I stand under the stream until it stops. I then dry off, get dressed, brush my teeth, and go back to Laura's. Dull.

Laura's changing into the jogging shorts that she sleeps in when I get back in. "You need the doctor, or something?"

"What?"

She pulls a t-shirt with the same diner logo that's on Reed's coffee mug over her head. "I heard you fainted today and you're looking a little pale."

"Oh," I scratch my nose ring, "I'm okay." When I see it's eight- thirty, I get even more anxious, but I just sit down and braid my wet hair to the side. It feels like Danica just cut it, but it's getting so long.

There's a knock on the door and by the beat, I know its Hal. Laura goes over and answers it. "Hey."

"Hello," Hal peers over at me and smiles, "Hey, gorgeous, how was the trip?" Laura snickers into her hand.

I scowl at their mutual mockery. "Fainting and tripping aren't the same thing, smart ass. I was dehydrated and hadn't eaten anything all day."

"That'll do it." Hal chuckles.

I look him over. "Hanging out again?"

"For a bit, if you don't mind." He comes in and Laura closes the door.

"What, no booze?"

Laura shakes her head. "Nope, just good 'ol sober fun."

I pull on the socks I like to sleep in and rise. "Well, have fun."

"Where are you off to, Rapunzel?"

"I'm...gonna go to Dwight's room for awhile and see if he turns up." Yikes, that sounds so pathetic.

Hal nods. "He's not turned up yet?"

"No," I meekly shake my head, "so I'm just gonna...go wait." Stop talking.

"Alright, see ya."

I grab my book and leave to go to Dwight's room. I enter the room that's dark, going over to the stand lamp, and turning the knob that flicks on the warm light. I then close the door and sit down in his chair, taking in his smell that's still present and beginning to read, even though I'm sleepy.

I read pretty quickly when I put my mind to it, usually getting thirty or forty pages under my belt every hour, but tonight I'm unable. I can't help worrying about Dwight. I don't know when I started caring about him, beyond average human sympathy, but I think I really care for him. Like the way I care for Hal, except...I don't know. Obviously not in a fraternal way like Hal, but with just as much fondness and endurance of fondness.

Maybe it began that night I returned from Alexandria, or the horrible day afterwards when he was thrown in a cell. Or maybe, while I was married to Negan, as fucked up as that sounds. I don't recall a time when Negan and I were in the throes of martial obligation, which I'm sure he'd call marital bliss, that my head didn't draw back to Dwight. I wonder how furious Negan would be if he found out that vast majority of my climaxes were not entirely of his own doing. The man has multiple wives, so I don't think I should catch any flack for having thoughts about another man.

I'm not sure what to call this emotion I have for him, but it's potent enough to cause me to feel like I had to write him an unnecessary letter that opened me up to vulnerability. That was like pulling out bricks of my wall. It was enough to make me impulsively agree to moving in with him, twice, because I wanted to be with him. And yes, both times were failures, but neither of us seems daunted from trying to find a way to make it work.

When I finally lift my head from the book, I lament at it being almost eleven forty-five. Still, no Dwight. He's been gone for a full twenty- four hours and then some. What if Daryl really did get the drop on him? I shake my head to banish the bad thoughts off. He'll be okay. He'll be back soon.

...

I don't remember my eyes closing, but I know I haven't been asleep for a full ten minutes when I hear the door creak close. The room's dark, because I had turned off the light around midnight when Dwight didn't show. My eyes spot a figure by the door, whose arm extends to the wall. The overhead lights turn on and I wince at how bright they are.

"Nan?" He says with a look of bewilderment. "What are you doing here?"

My eyes open instantly. I fell asleep with my glasses on, so I know my vision's not mistaken. I lick my lips, now fully awake. "Dwight?"

"Uh, yeah," He seems a little confused that I sound so surprised, "What are you doing here?"

I take my glasses off and curse myself for blushing. "I...I didn't know where you were. I didn't know Negan sent you on an errand and there was an intruder from Alexandria last night. She killed four people and...I couldn't find you and no one knew where you were, either."

Dwight appears troubled by my statement. "It was sort of last minute, I didn't think to tell you..." He looks down at his hands, "I didn't think I'd be gone this long. Sorry."

"I'm sorry if I intruded," I stand up from the chair, "Um, by just sitting in here when you're not here, but I...I was worried since you hadn't come back and so I..." I sigh heavily, "I decided to wait up for you."

He sighs, tired and abashed, and rubs the back of his head. "I'm sorry, Nan. I didn't mean to worry you."

I nod mechanically, before looking over to the clock that reads five minutes past two in the morning. "Well, you're probably tired."

"Yeah, I am."

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go so you can get some sleep." I walk over to the door that he stands in front of. I look up at him and our tired eyes are each other's for a good, brief moment. "I'm glad you're back," I rasp, chuckling at the fool I'm about to make of myself, "I...I missed you. That sounds so silly, because it's only been a day, but I...I did."

Dwight softly grins and just looks at me. I put my hand on the door knob and turn it open. He steps to the side so I can leave.

"Goodnight." I croak.

"Night." He whispers back. I enter the hall and wait until he closes the door before I move to go back home. A huge breath of relief unexpectedly exhales from me now that he's come back and all my bad thoughts can be quelled.

I silently open the door to Laura's room, but freeze up when I see both her and Hal sleeping in bed together with Hal's arm draped over her. Crap, what am I suppose to do? I gingerly tiptoe backwards into the hall, slowly closing the door without a sound. I huff and resign to go to Hal's room to sleep, yet again. For taking things slow, those two sure spend a lot of time together in one room. I'm happy that they seem to like each other, but at least take the slumber parties to the room that doesn't have another occupant in it.

I open Hal's room and flick on the light. The stripped mattress that sits on double-decked palettes perplexes me. I glance to the side and my eyes roll. You've got to be kidding me. Hal's sheets and comforter are hanging on clotheslines. I tread over and groan outwardly when I discover that they are still damp beyond ignoring. I shuffle out his door and go back from whence I came.

The light's still on. I knock very lightly on the door. It opens a few seconds later and I see that Dwight's already down to his boxers and t-shirt. "I'm sorry, I know you must be exhausted, but I've been kind of usurped from my side of Laura's bed for the night and I was wondering if I could borrow a blanket."

"Uh, yeah, here." He goes to his closet.

I step into the doorframe. "Thank you."

Dwight comes back with a khaki green blanket that's neatly folded and hands it to me. "Sure."

I don't know what possesses me, but I bring it up to my nose. I bleakly smile at him, when I'm satisfied that it smells like him. I clear my throat. "Well, goodni-"

I'm interrupted by his mouth catching mine, tenderly, but passionately. I don't push, or pull; I just let his hands take each side of my face as he deepens the kiss. I drop the blanket and softly bring my hands to his shirt, slightly afraid he'll pull back the moment I touch him, like last time. But alas, he doesn't break away when I ball his shirt in my hands. We make out for a good few, but long seconds, before he steps back into his room, bringing me with him. Once the door's closed, I lean back on it and let him wrap his arms around the middle of my back and nape of my neck, which I mimic.

Finally, he ends the kissing and looks down at me. My breathing is soft and shallow, while a flush whirls into my cheeks. He licks his lips. "Do you want to go to the bed?"

I nod almost instantly. "Yeah."

Dwight nods in response and I almost flinch when I feel his hand graze against mine, clasping it. We've never touched hands before. At least not like this. He leads me over to the bed. Once we reach the edge, Dwight begins kissing me again, sitting down on the mattress. I follow him down and am only on his lap for a second, before he turns us over, so that I'm lying on my back with him over me.

He pushes himself up on his arms and gazes down at me. I almost shy my eyes away, but I've wanted this for too long to doubt anything now. Dwight looks over towards the door, before getting up and walking over to the kill the lights. I get myself under the blankets and anxiously wait for him to come back to the bed. He lifts the blanket up when he pads back over and slides himself under as well. His arms are on both sides of me as he hovers over me. Dwight looks at me and I pray he isn't contemplating how to let me down.

"You're sure?" He whispers.

"Yes," I nod my head, swallowing some spit down, "Are you?"

He brings himself down and our lips lock. "Yes."

I let my hands slide under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin. I bring it all the way up, until he removes it himself, which allows me to lift my shirt over my head. Dwight helps me take it off, tossing it someplace else. His mouth moves to my neck, causing me to mewl, which I try to keep as quiet as possible. Next, I reach down and find my shorts and underwear, tugging them down awkwardly and it's not long until Dwight does the same.

Dwight sticks his hand under my thigh and brings it up, before I feel him enter me. Simultaneously, we let out hushed moans. He kisses me again, before lowering his head into the crook of my neck and gently thrusting into me. I arch my hips at the feeling and hook my arm under his, placing my hand on his shoulder blade, while the other snakes around to the back of his head. Dwight goes nice and steady, breathing against my flesh as he delves in and out.

I shut my eyes at the sensation and I sound like I'm near hysterics every time each moan, or mewl escapes my mouth. Despite going at an even pace, it doesn't take him long to get me where I want to go. My breathing becomes soft panting and I rise higher and higher until I fall over the edge. My whole body suspends for a moment, until my toes curl and my leg slides down. My mouth touches his shoulder, before I moan into his ear.

He grunts and abruptly stops. I kiss the side of his face, before he moves; pulling out of me. His head lifts back up and while choppily panting, he looks down below us and pulls up the blanket. My eyes flicker down and I realize what he's checking for and that it isn't there. Dwight sighs through his nose in frustration, before he opens his mouth again to regain his breath.

"It's okay." I whisper through my unsteady breathing. He looks down at me and I brave my palm to rest on the scarred side of his face.

Dwight sensually kisses me for the hundredth, blessed time, before rolling off of me and onto his back. We both lay there, now gaining better control of our lungs and hearts. I turn my head towards him and worm myself over, shifting to my side and laying my head down on his chest. His arm wiggles out from under me and I'm alleviated when his hand cups my elbow. It encourages to me to let my hand rest on his chest as well.

We don't utter another syllable. Our breathing returns to normal, before slipping under as we start to nod off. Dwight's breath washes over me and my eyes droop down; and I don't fight them.

Thank you CLTex, Skylar, Jofrench22, and FriendsWithTheMonster for your gracious reviews! I love hearing feedback. And a big thank you to all who read and enjoy my fic; it's so appreciated!

That being said, I want to give you all a heads up about the week after the next. After chapter 37, which will be posted next week as scheduled, Save Yourself will be going on hiatus until October. Because this story follows the show and not the comic, I want to put a pause on it for now. That way I can sew in some of the show characters that I love, but otherwise aren't in the comic. Besides, I have big things planned for Nan (during and after All Out War) and her baby, so I don't want to just shift the story over to trail the comic, because I think the story would then have to kind go by a little faster than it usually does.

With all that out of the way, I'd also like to point out that I am working on another Walking Dead fic that will hopefully go up the week after Chapter 37 of SY is posted and may likely be a weekly installment as well. It's set a year or so before the apocalypse and will also be a Dwight central story with an OC and, of course, I'm gonna find a way to throw Negan (and maybe some other characters) into the pot. I'll have title you can look out for at the end of next week's chapter, if anyone's interested in taking a peek at it. :)