Marilyn had no solid recollection of when she fell asleep. She remembered laughing with Nina, munching on some snacks and then fading off while watching an old movie. The time that Simon burst through the door could have been a minute, an hour or a day later and Marilyn wouldn't have known the difference.
"Negan?" she popped up from where she laid asleep on her back on top of the covers next to Nina. Marilyn looked around the room, her eyes desperately searching for Negan but when it registered that Simon was the one who had come swirling into the room like a tornado, mild panic set in.
"Hey, hey, hey..." Simon sounded like he was trying to yell but only a loud whisper came out.
Nina sprung up a moment after Marilyn, flustered and unaware of what was going on as she was awoken from her slumber.
"We have to go," Simon urged, "We have to go now." He waved his hands and scanned the room with his eyes.
"What do you mean?" Marilyn leapt to her feet. "Where's Negan?"
"Get a few things, grab some water... food." He rushed toward a small refrigerator beside Negan's desk and began shuffling water, beer and a soda out of it. "Nina, grab a bag!"
"What is going on?" Marilyn demanded. She rushed to Simon's side as he continued to do what he was doing.
"We have to go. Get all the food you can find in here."
"Where's Negan?"
Simon stood up, dodging the questions as he dug into the pocket of his jeans for a set of car keys. A look of relief washed over him when he realized he had them.
"Simon!" Marilyn shouted this time, prompting him to finally look her directly in the eye.
"We've got to go," he said with a quiet tremble in his voice, "The three of us."
"Three of us?" She raised her eyebrows.
"You... me... Nina." He glanced over as Nina slipped on her shoes and threw a sweatshirt on over her tank top. "We're going," Simon said to her.
"Simon where the hell is he?" Marilyn asked again, begging for a response with her eyes.
"Fuck Marilyn." Simon shook his head and snatched the bag from Nina as she slid one she'd taken from the closet toward him. He glanced up at her, not looking away this time. "He... they have him."
"Who's they?" Panic radiated inside of her, making her arms and legs feel heavy.
"Rick... the Hilltop people."
"We're going to get him then," she suspected.
"We have to get out of here." Simon began shoving everything he could fit into the bag.
"To go get him."
"His throat was slashed!" he cried out, stopping dead in his tracks after shouting the sentence out at her.
"His..." Marilyn couldn't find it in her to complete the sentence. "He... what?"
"I'm sorry," Simon shook his head and looked down, beginning to pack everything up again. "We just have to go. I told him I'd look after you."
"No." She raised her voice, "No, Simon, we have to go there. We have to go get him."
"Marilyn..." He took a deep breath, "He's..."
"No," Marilyn said again. She stood up and shook her head, "No he's not."
"Rick slit his throat and then dragged him into their complex," Simon said with a raw honesty now that left her to a point where she felt like she could blackout.
"Did he, uh... um..." Marilyn put her hand on her forehead and let out a long, deep sigh and unwillingly felt her bottom lip begin to quiver, "Did he..." She couldn't say the word 'die' when speaking of Negan, and so she forced her brain to restructure the sentence, "Did he fall. Did he fall down?"
Simon glanced over at Nina, who already had tears welded up in her eyes that had yet to fall. When he looked back to Marilyn her eyes were just as glassy. "We have to go," he said quietly.
Marilyn felt like she should fan herself with her hand when her face began to grow hotter and hotter by the second. She thought her head might literally explode if she didn't move and so she began to pace the room. The chaos and the whirlwind of words and events began to assault her into a submission that left her in a heap on the floor as she unwillingly vomited from the intense, emotional nature of the situation.
Nina rushed over, holding her hair back and consoling her. "Marilyn." Her tears dropped now and she tried to mask her own sadness that stemmed from her friend's situation.
Marilyn began to sob as a stingy, consuming feeling decorated the corners of her eyes when she tried to fight it. At the same time her forehead began to throb and she finally looked down at the mess on the floor. "I have to get out of here." She attempted to dry her eyes but the immediately area was blurry from the tears.
"I'll get you out of here," Simon vowed, "But we have to go now before they come for us. They'll be gunning for me too."
"I need to find him," Marilyn said, delusion overtaking everything else.
"We will." He aimed to appease her now, "But he's not going to be parading into this room anytime soon." Simon swallowed hard and rummaged through drawers now, throwing every ounce of food he could manage into the nooks and crannies of the bag. "So we have to go now."
"He's not coming back." She took in a deep breath and attempted to dry her eyes.
"We'll find him Mar," Nina told her.
Simon moved to the closet next and Marilyn rushed over, still sniffling as she began to comb through Negan's clothes. She tossed a few of his shirts into the bag and then grabbed a hooded sweatshirt he only typically wore when the two of them were lounging together in the room.
For a moment the world stood still again, and she pictured him with the old Virginia football sweatshirt that was a faded navy blue with white letters. Marilyn put it to her face and took in a deep breath, engraining his scent that was a mixture of the soap they'd been using, baby powder and the faintest hint of scotch or bourbon.
"God..." she began to cry again into the fabric and held it against her as if it was Negan she was holding.
"Come on," Simon's voice broke the daydream-like nature of the moment and he touched her shoulder lightly, "Do this for him," he urged, "We have to get the hell out of here and then come up with a plan."
"Did you see him die?" Marilyn asked. "Did you see Negan die?"
Simon swallowed hard and then took a breath as he zipped up the gym bag and tossed it over his shoulder, "I saw Rick slit his throat."
"But was he dead Simon?"
He hesitated and looked at Nina again before returning his gaze to Marilyn. "I don't know."
The fact that his answer was not a definitive 'no' gave her enough hope to snap out of the inconsolable daze she was in. "Okay." Marilyn couldn't keep the tears from streaming down her face but she got it together in the moment.
"Okay." Simon nodded and looked at Nina. "The three of us are going to the loading dock. Don't talk to anyone. Don't look at anyone. We've got to go." He glanced back at Marilyn, "Now."