A soft whisper of air flows in from the open window and caresses my bare skin. A veil of goose bumps covers my exposed back, down my arm, and even my breasts. My eyes open with a catlike leisure and I dreamily blink once or twice, before I recollect where I am. His body heat feels like a hot plate under me and my head and arm barely move with the rise and fall of his chest.

By the stillness of his breathing, I think he may be awake, but I don't want to move or speak to make him aware of my consciousness. Part of me's afraid he'll regret what happened a few short hours ago. What did happen? I don't know what I did, or said to make him kiss me, but I wish I knew so that I could do it again. Dwight inhales deeply and lets it go through his nose in a way that confirms to me that he is awake. His index finger taps lightly against my elbow, as if he's thinking.

I wiggle myself back a little bit, so that I can look at him. The side of my face that was resting on his warm, bare chest feels like a band-aid peeling off, but I ignore the slight sting as I lay my head on his shoulder. Dwight's eyes look directly at me with a tranquil gaze.

"Hi." I rasp quietly.

"Hi." He returns with the same whispered softness in tone.

I sheepishly bring my arm back to me, hugging it to my chest, but I still keep my eyes on his. "Do you regret it?"

"No," Dwight answers with a sleepy shake of his head, "Do you?"

"No."

"I'm sorry about-"

"It's okay," I murmur before he has time to apologize for something that would just sound awkward to say out loud , "You got caught off guard and besides, I'm already pregnant, so I don't think we have to worry."

Dwight lets out a faint snicker. "Okay," He gently pulls me closer as he shifts in place, "Well, then I'm sorry about leaving without telling you."

I allow my hand to return to his chest. "Don't be sorry for that either. Why would you tell me? I'm not your mother."

"No, but if I let you know that I was going, then you wouldn't have had to wait up for me."

I smile sweetly. "I didn't have to wait up. I wanted to."

His eyes study my face as he smiles back. "Why?"

"I don't know," I shrug shyly, "I wanted to make sure you came back alright. I was worried something had happened to you."

Dwight's smile perks up some more and he turns his body more my way, lightly kissing me on the lips. He then returns to lying on his back. During this quick kiss, my head was moved to resting on his forearm, so I inch myself back as well. Dwight wraps his arm around my shoulder, which makes me sigh placidly.

"Why'd you kiss me?" I softly ask.

"Last night, or now?"

"Both."

Dwight exhales calmly. "I don't know," He answers, much in the same way that I had before, as his thumb caresses my arm, "I guess I didn't realize that you would worry about me, or that you'd miss me when I was gone."

I stretch my arm out across him and breathe. "I see."

He snickers again. "I know last night was a little sudden, but...it felt good to be worried about and missed."

I move closer, if that's even possible at this point without getting on top of him. "You mean to be cared about?"

"Yeah, I think so," He turns his head to me, "Do you care about me?"

My cheeks burn brightly at his question and I fight myself from looking away from him. "Yeah, I do."

"Are you crying?"

I shake my head like a child as tears collect in my eyes. "Hormones."

"No, it isn't," He protests, "Just tell me."

I close my eyes for a moment and feel the breeze cooling my hot tears as they roll down my cheeks. "I've wanted this for a long time, but I didn't think you'd want me after everything and...I'm just happy."

"Why'd you think I wouldn't want you?" His eyes look troubled.

I lick the salty tears off my lips. "Because you told me so."

Dwight does his trademark sigh of frustration and curses himself under his breath. "Nan, I was drunk the night I said that. I didn't mean that shit."

"It's okay, Dwight," I sniff back tears, "I understand."

"Understand what?" He asks with a bewildered annoyance. "You keep saying that you understand, but I don't even know what you mean by that."

"I mean that I understand that..." An aching lump in my throat emerges, "never mind, let's just drop it."

He rolls his body my way until he's on his side, which causes me to lean back a ways. "No, we're not dropping it, so tell me."

I nestle my neck in the crook of his elbow and keep my arm on his virile skin. "I understand why you pulled away that one night before I moved out," I look into his eyes, "When it seemed like we were about to kiss, but I just barely put my hand on your arm and you pulled back, saying that you couldn't. And then you said those things a few nights later and..." I shut my eyes and more tears gush out, "I knew you didn't want to touch me, or share a bed with me because I married Negan and it disgusted you!"

"Nan," Dwight shakes his head, "I-"

"No!" I wail, turning my face away. "I knew that's why you slept in the armchair and why you could barely stand to be in the same room as me."

He reaches over with his other hand and moves some hair that's stuck to my face because of the wetness, and then brushes it back in a kind, nurturing manner. "I'm not disgusted by you."

"Don't lie to spare my feelings," I whine with my eyes closing at his touch, "I'm a big girl, I can handle the truth. I'd prefer it."

"I'm telling you the truth."

I reopen my eyes and turn back to look at him with red-rimmed eyes of skepticism. "You are?"

"Yes, I am." He responds earnestly.

"How can you not be?" I ask sullenly. "I married the man who scarred your face and took your wife. And then he bragged to you about how I slept with him."

Dwight sighs, looking off for thought. "Honestly? I can't pretend like I wasn't a little disgusted by the situation," His eyes return to mine that are about to despair at his confession, "but not by you."

"What's the difference?"

His hand touches my skin, tracing a finger mindlessly. "The thought of you and him in bed together made my stomach sick, but the thought of you yourself, didn't and doesn't."

I take a deep breath as I think about his words. "So, I don't repulse you?"

"No," He clarifies with the utmost firmness in his voice, before kissing my lips again, "you don't repulse me."

I tenderly tuck some hair behind his ear, before putting my hand back to his chest. "Then why did you avoid me before?"

Dwight glances down and traipses his finger along the little fading scar from when I fell on my sabotaged mattress. "Because I let you down."

"How?"

"If I had just listened to you before, instead of shutting you down and kicking you out; you wouldn't have married him and he wouldn't have broken your hand and-"

"Dwight," I run my hand down his side in a soothing motion, "Stop beating yourself up for my actions. I still could've turned down Negan's offer, but instead I chose to fall back on old ground."

"I made a mistake, Nan," He claims adamantly, "I let you go. I let another person I care about walk right up those stairs to him." Dwight's fingers delicately press my flesh, before he follows the curve of my hip. "You were pregnant this whole time. If I had just listened, maybe we would've worked through things and maybe you would've found out sooner and...we wouldn't be in the shit we're in now."

"I know," I cup my hand to his face, "I thought of a million things that could've made a difference. I've spent a good portion of my life thinking about the things I could've done or said that would have made for a better outcome, but trust me, it doesn't do any good once things have already happened."

"I know, but I can't shake how badly I fucked things up with you, Nan. Not just with that, but before, too."

"Well, stop, because for the hundredth time; I've forgiven you."

Dwight's eyes seem to become glossy as he peers down at me. "When Sherry left, I...I shouldn't have had sex with you so soon. I wasn't ready, but I kept trying to forget about her. But I'd either be too upset to finish, or get mad when I'd see the hurt in your face because I using you. And then I'd just let you...I shouldn't have let you do that, but I was a fucking asshole. "

"It's alright." I brush a tear that silently falls from his eye with my thumb.

He clears his throat, getting a little choked up, I think. "In your letter, you said I was a good person, but I'm not. I use to be, but not anymore. The person I use to be would never have done that, or treated you the way I did. I let myself become one of them, far more than I needed to, and it's never given me a damn thing except insomnia and anger."

Now I kiss him softly. "You are good, Dwight. I know you are."

"I'm trying to be," He whispers with an exhausted sigh. "But I got a ways to go, before I get there."

We're both quiet for a few minutes, until I chuckle out of nowhere and he follows. Despite the heavy conversation, I feel silly and light, and I don't know why.

"Why are you laughing?"

Dwight shakes his head, minimizing his sleepy laughs. "I don't know. Why are you?"

"Because these damn hormones are making me a crybaby that turns everything nice into melodrama."

"I don't mind," He snickers, sniffing away tears, "we had it coming."

I chuckle under my breath. "Yeah."

Dwight's mouth claims mine, while his hand snakes around to my lower back. I put my hand on his ribs and bring my body wantonly to his like a magnet. His sensually deep kiss sends an aching pleasure through me, causing me to moan into his mouth. He breaks away and he looks at me with a breathlessness. "Do you want to move back in with me?"

I smile and a fresh round tears come up. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" He grins.

I nod my head. "Yeah."

We both laugh timidly, before we resume making out. I lay on my back and Dwight slowly shifts a leg between mine in the steady process of getting on top of me. Just when things are getting good, a knock on the door quells us. Dwight and I both look over at the door, knowing by the rhythm of the knock and the solid sound of what was used to knock; that it's him. We exchange a look, before he knocks again, only a little louder.

"Just a sec!" Dwight calls outs, looking hurriedly under the blankets.

"Dwight!" I hoarsely whisper, bringing some of the white comforter up to clad my breasts. "Don't answer it!"

"I have to." He fishes around for his boxer shorts, before pecking me on the lips and getting out of bed.

Another round of impatient knocking hits and I'm afraid he'll kick the door in at any moment. Dwight dresses into his pants and shirt with a quickness I've never seen before. I sit up in bed and nervously hold the covers to me, wanting to turn invisible to spare us both the ridicule that's about to be served up.

Dwight opens the door, but only enough to show him. "Yeah?"

"What the fuck was taking so long?" Negan sounds irritated.

"Sorry," Dwight scratches the back of his head, "I was asleep and then I, uh, had to get dressed."

"What do you sleep in the buff? You could've just come to the door in your undies, we're all adults here." Negan chuckles. "I want to talk about you about my missing dog, can I come in?"

"Uh..." Dwight stalls for a second, but the door is suddenly pushed open all the way and Negan and I immediately make eye contact.

His face becomes dourly sober as he walks in. "Well, I guess you would sleep naked if you had a good enough reason to," He says with some stale humor, "Good morning, Nan."

"Morning." I grumble, averting my eyes.

"Nice to see that you made a full recovery from yesterday." He says with jaggedness behind his tone.

"Thank you." I curtly answer, glancing over at Dwight who looks confused.

Negan gives me a look, before turning to Dwight. "Boy, this one, she really did miss you, Dwighty boy," He spins briefly back to me, "So much so that it would seem she gave you a friendly welcome home."

My cheeks begin to simmer with color, but I won't let him humiliate me, because I know my being here bothers him and that is a sweet victory. It sounds cruel, but I'm glad to have possibly ruined his morning this way.

"So, no Daryl?" Negan finally asks Dwight.

"No," Dwight responds level- headedly, "He wasn't there."

"Did you search the woods around the place?"

"Yeah, but there wasn't any signs of him."

Negan nods, looking back over to me. "Well, I've got my money on him being closer to home like the dumb fucking animal that he is," He goes to the door, "We're heading out in three hours, but there's a lot of shit that needs to be done before then."

Dwight nods. "Yeah, I'll make sure it's done."

Negan smiles. "Good boy," He glances back at me with a we'll-talk-later expression before going.

Dwight closes the door and looks over at me. "Were you sick?"

I shake my head. "No, but I fainted."

"What?" He comes back over to the bed and sits.

"It's no big deal," I assure him, "I forgot to eat and...got a little overwhelmed with everything that happened yesterday."

Dwight moves his head up and down at my response, inspecting my complexion. "So, you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lift my right elbow, "I got a little bruise, but it's not the end of the world."

He sighs, looking down at his wristwatch. "I guess I better get moving."

I reach down below the blankets in search for my underwear and pajama shorts. "Where are you going?"

"To Alexandria," He answers, going over to the fridge, "We got word that they're planning an attack, so Negan wants to go over there and stomp it out."

My stomach feels queasy. "And Sasha?"

Dwight fires up the camping stove, before looking over at me. "She the one that broke in?"

"Yeah, what's going to happen to her?"

"Is she alive still?"

"Yes," I relay, looking around the room for my shirt, "And Eugene said that Negan wanted to convince her to side with us."

Dwight shrugs, cracking an egg on the side of the pan. "I don't know, but we're probably taking her back there as a bargaining chip."

I let out a soft groan and move my neck to work out the kinks. "Why don't you stay here? You just got back."

He snickers, leaving the stove and walking behind the armchair. "I have to go," He picks up my shirt from off the floor and comes over, "But hopefully everything will go smoothly and we won't be gone long."

I take my shirt from him. "What does smoothly mean?"

His eyes blink from my middle to me. "Sorry, what?"

I smile lightly. "What does smoothly mean?"

Dwight smiles back. "Everything goes according to plan."

"Which is?" I step closer to him.

He seems to hesitate. "All of this ending today...or soon."

I'm still a little perplexed by his semi- vague answer, but I guess I can agree. "Yeah."

"Yeah." He quietly parrots, as his eyes drift back down to my baby bump.

"Do you wanna feel?"

Dwight looks back at me. "What?"

I motion my eyes down to my middle. "The baby."

He grows shy, but he nods. "Yeah."

"Okay," I faintly reply, before gingerly reaching over and taking his hand in mine. I slide both our hands under my shirt and let his hand gently graze my skin. He keeps his hand on my tummy without my help, but I don't remove mine from his. Both of our breathing stills, nervously, but also in simultaneous awe.

Dwight slowly brings his other hand under my shirt and touches the other side my pregnancy. A smile tips upward without his knowledge as he gazes down and it makes me feel good. After a couple seconds, he looks back up at me and I smile at him. His hands travel upward and all of the sudden, Dwight timidly pulls me into a hug. Another first for us.

I raise my arms under him and hug him back, not use to this form of affection from him, but I don't dislike it. I close my eyes and breathe in his air, as my forehead rests against his shoulder. He's wearing the same shirt and jeans he was in last night when he got in. They smell like smoke, sweat, and...tree sap, I think. He holds me and it seems like it's only thing I could possibly want right now.

"Things are gonna be different from now on," Dwight murmurs with a slight rasp, "I'm gonna make things better for you and the baby."

"Okay."

He finally pulls back to look me in the eyes. "I promise."

I smile brightly and nod. "Okay."

Dwight grins, before planting his lips on mine.

...

A flourishing sensation showers me like an alleviating, summer rain. I don't remember the last time I felt so radiant and hopeful, but it's like nothing can bring me down today. It may be the one of the best days I've had in ages and it's not even noon yet. I can feel a pep in my step as I walk through the factory like I own the place and I have to stifle my smile to a plain line, just so people won't think I'm delirious.

Never in my wildest imagination did I expect Dwight to be so open and affectionate with me, at least not this soon. I don't know what happened out there when he was looking for Daryl, but it's as if he's found some new ambition. He cares about you. I thought I'd be the fool to admit that I cared for him and be left with some easy let down, but he said he cared about me!

"Hey!" I turn my head in Reed's direction and approach him.

"What?"

"Where've you been?" He asks pointing to his watch, "I radioed you twenty minutes ago."

"Well, I was on the fourth floor when you radioed," I explain, "It takes like ten minutes to get down from there."

"And the other ten?"

I shrug. "I went to the bathroom and got something to eat."

Reed shakes his head in disbelief. "Whatever, Negan's waiting for you in my office."

Cue the dreadful music. "What for?" I ask, although I can guess it's not work related.

"I don't know, but you've kept him waiting, so I'd hustle my ass if I were you."

I bite the corner of my lip, but nod. "Fine."

I drag my feet a little as I head to Reed's office. Why doesn't he just radio me himself? I'm really not interested in the same old back and forth we've had the last couple weeks. It's redundant, boring, and tiresome. I know he's going to bring up what he saw earlier this morning, because despite his easygoingness, I could see that he was jilted.

When I come up on the office, I can hear him giving out orders from a radio. I knock as a courtesy, before entering and find him behind Reed's desk. I also, to my surprise and dismay, discover Simon in the room, leaning against the wall by the window.

"You heard correctly, good sir," Negan says into the radio in his hand, while eyeing me, "I want the casket loaded up on the back of a truck and strapped the fuck down. So, get the fuck on it, please."

I close the door, nervous that Simon's here and that he's noticed the little curve in my profile. "Um...you wanted to see me?"

Negan sits up in his chair. "Yes, my dear, I fucking did... about twenty goddamn minutes ago."

"I had to pee." I keep my eyes on him and averted from Simon, who just silently stands in the room.

Negan smirks, humored, but not pleased. "Excuses, excuses, Nanette," He stands up, "All you seem to be made of is excuses, lies, and a nice ass. Walk with me."

I open the door and the three of us exit Reed's office together. Simon's oddly quiet for some reason. He's usually a chatterbox, not quite at Negan status, but right now he seems to be all serious. "Where are we going?"

"To the kitchens," Negan answers, snaking his arm around my shoulder like he normally does, "To go collect the grub I had the cooks make up for our guest."

"Why?"

"Because breakfast is the most important fuckin' meal of the day and it's a couple hours to Alexandria, so she's gonna need something to hold her over."

I nod, looking slightly over my shoulder towards Simon, who's just causally moseying behind us. "What did you want to see me about?"

We make it to the kitchens and Negan stops just outside the entrance, having me stop as well. Simon carries on inside. "I'm gonna go scrounge up some chow."

Negan watches him go in, before blinking back to me. "Why do you suppose I wanted to see you, darlin'?"

I fight the impulse to roll my eyes. "Because you found me in Dwight's bed this morning?"

"Were you naked?" He raises his brows and a smile spreads across his face.

"You know I was," I reply flatly, "Hence the blanket covering my-"

"Humble titties?"

"Yeah." I look towards the kitchens and spy Simon leaning against the counter, while Marisol stands on the other end and appears to be listening to something he's saying. "So, what?" I glance back up at him with a saucy brow. "You want to remind me to practice safe sex? Because it's a little late for that."

Negan leans back and laughs. "Ah, I love the gal you're shaping up to be. I take full responsibility."

"For?"

"For fucking all that mousy gutlessness out of you and bringing forth this," He wags Lucille my way, "This fuckin' tiger."

I cross my arms. "Could you just tell me what it is you want to say? I want to get back to work."

Negan gives me the up and down and his smiles lessens. "So...are you and him..." He makes a gesture with his hands, "fucking?"

"That's none of your business." I enter the kitchens and he follows.

"So, yes then."

"Well, obviously," I crassly retort, "Why else would I be naked in his bed?" I glance over at Simon, Marisol, and the other kitchen workers who all give me a collective look and I blush, realizing I was a little too loud.

Negan chuckles, before knocking on the counter at the workers. "Chop, chop." One worker goes off to some part of the kitchen I can't see from where I'm standing. "I'm gonna take a shot in the fuckin' dark and say you weren't until his return last night?"

"Bull's-eye." I answer dryly, which makes him snicker.

"Ooh, so you did receive him warmly." He smiles and takes the small covered tray that the returning worker brings over.

I walk with him as he goes to leave, glancing over at Simon, who appears to remain talking to Marisol. "I'm moving back in with him."

Negan flashes an unpleasant look. "Is that fucking so?"

"Yes," I nonchalantly watch some Saviors head to the front of the factory, "He asked me to and I said yes, since things are going so well." I don't mean to sound braggy, or like I'm trying to dig at him, but I am hoping he'll see that I'm moving on and drop whatever delusion he has of me coming back to him.

"Well, all I can is, " He stops in his tracks right before the cells, facing me, "enjoy it while it fucking lasts, because come...five or six months from now, life on Sunshine Fucking Lane may come to an abrupt halt."

I scowl. "Meaning what exactly?"

Negan shrugs, "You might have a hell of a choice to make. A choice that, while you'd think it'd be a no fuckin' brainer, might be a little difficult. A real heart wrencher."

I lose my scowl and grow a little nervous by his words. "What do you mean?"

"I'd love to stay and chat, Nan, but Sasha's been kept waiting for breakfast long enough, thanks to you, and we leave in forty-five," Negan smiles at the uneasy look on my face, "So, we'll talk later."

He heads down the hall towards the cells and I turn around to go back to the kitchens. Simon passes me on the way there and gives me a smug wink as he does, eating an apple. Once I get to the kitchens, I stalk over to Marisol, who's sweeping the floor with a morose look on her face.

"Hey," I go over to her, "Are you alright?"

She peeks over her shoulder at the other workers that are a good distance away, as well as the overseer, Owen. "You didn't tell me that Simon was coming here."

"I didn't know, I'm as surprised as you." I tell her, looking back at Owen, too. "What'd he say?"

Marisol sighs, focusing on her sweeping. "Nothing important. Just causally shooting the breeze like we're friends."

I cringe inwardly, knowing how friendly Simon can be when it's clear that the other person is uncomfortable. "He didn't bring up the baby?"

"You mean babies?" She scoffs.

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

She shakes her head. "I mean, his eyes gravitated towards my stomach when he was talking, but aside from that; nope." I myself glance down at her stomach that is slightly more noticeable than mine, since she's carrying twins. "He asked how I was liking my new position and then asked for some bacon and an apple, then went on talking about how he worked on an orchard when he was a teenager. I don't know, the story didn't really have a point, except that his first time was with the owner's younger wife."

I furrow my brows at her information about Simon. "What a weird thing to randomly tell someone."

Marisol looks up and quickly darts her eyes towards all the other behind me. "He, uh...always use to talk about stuff like that."

"Oh," I brush some hair from my face, "that's awkward." I nervously chuckle.

She shrugs her shoulder, continuing to move her broom. "I guess so."

I notice the time from the clock on the wall. "Well, I'll let you get back to work."

"Yeah, okay."

...

Half an hour later, I head to the front of the factory to go record the sign- in sheet. I want to finish up my work as soon as possible today, so I can pack my things, move back in, and get settled.

"Hey." Dwight appears at my elbow.

"Hey," I greet back gladly, "What are you doing?"

"Heading to the front," He says with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, "Everything's ready to go, so now we just gotta wait for Negan."

"Oh, I'm heading that way, too."

"Cool."

We go together in silence, but a nice silence. Silence that can pass between two people without either party internally squirming for conversation. When we get to the stairs that'll take us up to the front entrance, Dwight allows me to go first and I feel a light hand briefly touch the small of my back with care. I have to take a deep breath to compose myself. It's really the little, subtle things that get me going.

The doors are propped open, because of the heat, so we both go out into the daylight. It's only nine and it's already like walking into an oven. Dwight and I both halt when we see a sixteen wheeler parked on the left side of the yard, with Negan, Eugene and Sasha standing on the back where a polished casket rests. Arat stands off to the side with her hands resting on her hips. Sasha's arms are folded and she seems to be confident and unafraid, unlike yesterday. Negan speaks to her and she speaks back, but as to what they're discussing is obviously not within earshot.

"What are they doing?" I ask, turning to Dwight.

Dwight has an uneasy expression as he looks that way. "They're gonna put her in the coffin."

"What?"

He sighs, reaching into his pocket. "Yeah, I know." He produces a lighter and pack of cigarettes.

"I'm gonna go record the sign- ins." I head down the steps and stroll over to Solara and Ada. We all give candid hellos and I look down at the sign- in logs to write them down. Yancy's final sign- in spurns me, knowing that there isn't a sign- out because of me. I tread back to the entrance without a goodbye to the guards.

"I know this must be tough, but I want you to know that I appreciate it." Negan says as I pass the truck. I side- glance towards him and Sasha. He sounded sincere.

"It's something I need to do," She replies.

"You don't actually have to be in the fuckin' thing the whole way there."

"It's cool," Sasha claims, "I was planning on sleeping."

"No shit?" Negan says, amazed.

"Yeah, I just want to go to sleep."

I climb the concrete stairs and see Dwight toss his cigarette on the ground, putting it out with his boot. "I'm trying to quit," He claims, clearing his throat, "it's harder than I thought."

"I know," I smirk, kindly, "The only reason that Charlie quit was because of the world changing."

"Yeah," Dwight nods, tucking his hands back in his pockets, "the one vice I never thought I'd have to deal with again. Turns out the cigarettes didn't disappear, they were just the first thing off the shelves when other people were scavenging."

I snicker, "He'd always keep a few joints in his pack and I'd always sneak one."

Dwight smiles at my random piece of information and opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by a sharp whistle piercing the air. The kind of whistle a master would call his dog over with.

"Dwight!"

I peek over my shoulder and roll my eyes when I see Negan waving Dwight over. I sigh, looking back at Dwight. "It's time to go."

"Yeah." He replies, starting to head down.

I catch him softly by the sleeve and push myself up on my toes a little, kissing him tenderly. I lick my lips as I pull away, smiling up at his bewildered grin. "Be careful."

"Thanks."

"Dwight!" Negan yells louder and I know I've stuck it to him.

"I gotta go, " Dwight sighs, "I'll see ya later."

"See ya." I watch him go and pretend to be oblivious to Negan's existence, before heading back inside.

...

I finish up my work around three and because Reed still needs another hour, since he's got more on his plate, I decide to move my things back into Dwight's room. Laura's folding some of her laundry when I get in.

"What's up?" She says, relaxed. "You wait up for Dwight all night?"

My cheeks rosy up. "Um, yeah."

Laura rubs under her nose with the back of her hand. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," I take up my hands together, "But...well, Dwight wants to try to live together again and I said I would."

"Oh..."She nods, glancing down at the shirt she's folding, "That's great."

"You don't mind?"

Laura scoffs, humored. "Why would I mind?"

"I don't know," I go over to my trunk to assess all that's there, "I guess it's a good thing for you. It'll give you and Hal some more...privacy." While the two seem to be going steady, I still don't really know how to quite phrase their situation out loud. Hal said they were "friends", but I sort of agree with Dwight when he said way back when that friends don't have sex. Casual sex with one person is a type of relationship, even if it isn't a serious one, but I'll respect their terms.

"Don't leave on my account," She replies, stretching as she stands, "I can always go to his place, if need be. You're not a cock block."

I snicker faintly. "No, I know, but I want this." I do want this.

Laura puts her hands nonchalantly on her hips, as she watches me take stock of my trunk. "Alright."

I glance up at her. "Do you think I should give it more time?"

She twists her mouth to the side, thinking. "Mm, I don't know," She lazily shrugs her shoulders, "But you're an adult, Nan. If your gut tells you that it's a good idea, then you should go for it."

"Yeah." I murmur, going over to the kitchen cabinets. I'm not so good at following my gut. For years, it's never been hazy about what's right and wrong, but that's never stopped me from committing the latter. But this time around, I'm going to listen to it and it's telling me pass go; collect two-hundred dollars.

"Want some help?" Laura asks, pointing to my trunk. "I heard preggos aren't really supposed to be lifting shit."

I smile, chuckling under my breath. "Yeah, thanks."

The two of us carry the trunk on different ends to Dwight's room. We set it down by the bed where it was placed the last two times. Laura briefly glances around the room and I do the same. Third time's the charm.

"Nan, it's Reed," Reed's voice comes into the room from the radio on my belt, "Head back to the office, so we can get everything done."

I hold the radio up to my mouth. "Okay, I'm on my way."

Laura scratches her nose. "Well, I'm gonna get back to my laundry."

"Thanks again," I grin shyly, "For everything."

"It's no big deal," She looks down at her boots, "I kind of liked having a roommate."

"I'll come hang out from time to time."

Laura nods and heads to the door. "Alright, see ya later. I'm gonna go finish folding my laundry and then wash the dishes Hal left in my sink, since he didn't have time to do them himself before going."

"Hal went with them?"

"Yeah." She gives me a bewildered look, like she doesn't get why I'd be concerned, considering everything always goes the Saviors' way in these situations.

"Oh, okay." I leave the room with her.

Reed and I finish the books around five and I volunteer to take the main logbook up top. Negan, Dwight, and the others that went along aren't back yet, so I know I won't have to deal with Negan and can just leave the book up there with the wives. Once I get there, I'm a little winded after having climbed the flights maybe a little too quickly.

I walk to the drawing room and knock on one of the open doors. The five of them all look my way. "Uh, hi."

"Hey," Danica smiles, "Long time, no see."

"Yeah." I timidly chuckle. I haven't been up here in weeks and thus haven't seen any of them in weeks, since they don't really wander down.

"Oh, wow, you're starting to show!" Hazel gushes, coming over. "How many weeks does this make?"

"Um...somewhere between fifteen and seventeen weeks," I inform, putting a hand on my tummy, "I think it's mostly the five extra pounds I put on, though. I've eaten a lot of potatoes and bread the last three weeks."

Hazel and Tonya both laugh. Frankie puts her knitting in her basket. "What are you doing up here?" She asks politely.

I reveal the book I'm holding at my side. "I'm just dropping off the main logs," I peer down the hall, "I figured I'd leave it on the coffee table in his room."

"We're not allowed to go in there when he's not in." Amber mumbles over on the loveseat by the window.

My brows knit and I look at the others for verification. They all have bashful expressions that confirm Amber's meek words. "Oh...is that a new rule?" I don't remember if that was a rule when I was a wife; I never really went in there unless he called me in.

"Well," Tonya clasps her hands together, "not really, but it's not like we hung out there before Negan made it an official rule like a few days after you left."

I nod thoughtfully. "So, should I leave this with you?"

Tonya bites her lips and turns to look at the others in question. Hazel, Danica, and Amber give shrugs, or uncertain glances, while Frankie inspects her nails. "Um, well...if the door's not locked, then I guess it'd be okay if you dropped it off in there."

"Okay." I nervously tread down the hall to the double doors of his room. I glance over at the drawing room and see Tonya slightly angled in observance. My hand touches the door handle and I push down, feeling the ease that lets me know that the door is in fact unlocked.

I open the door enough for me to slide in and scan my eyes around the empty room. It's rigidly neat, like no one actually lives in here. There's a faint aroma of scotch, but I don't see any spills, or broken glass. Hell, I don't even see an intact bottle. Get in and get out. I walk over to the coffee table and set the book down in the corner closest to the part of the sofa where he usually sits.

I turn to leave and that's when I spot the top drawer of his nightstand to be slightly ajar. Don't. I trek to the door, slowly, trying to convince myself not to be victim to curiosity. But, I go over to the nightstand anyway, perhaps stupidly, and carefully open the drawer. I'm surprised at what I find, although I suppose I shouldn't be.

The sonogram he took from my last appointment lies in the middle of the drawer. I take it up in my hand to look at it, feeling somewhat entitled in doing so, since it's technically mine. I have half a mind to pocket it, but what's the use, since he'll just pay me a visit to take it back? As I go to set it back down, I notice the embroidered loop that I spent a week or two stitching before I left him. I put the sonogram down inside where I found it and then close the drawer to how it was, before leaving his room.

"Hey, Nan." I look up at Danica as I come down the hall.

"Yeah?"

"How about I give you another trim one of these days?" She offers, "You could come up here, or I could come to you, if you want."

I know she's just being nice, but her tone is curious to me. Almost like she's being coerced. "Oh, yeah, that'd be great. I was just thinking my hair's getting a little long."

"Alright, just let me know." She grins.

All the wives are looking at me with small, welcoming grins on their faces and if I didn't know any better, I'd say something's up. "Well, I'm gonna go make dinner, so I'll, uh, catch you all later."

The clock reads ten to six when I look over at it, waiting for the water to boil. It's still light out, since it's summer and won't get dark until about eight -thirty or so, but I'm already so tired. Waiting up for Dwight and then not going to sleep until two in the morning, only to wake up around six really took it out of me today.

After putting some things away, I figured I'd make dinner before Dwight got back and we could eat together, before I pass out from exhaustion. I lie down on the bed and smile to myself. This is happening and I want it to. But what do I call it? The three of us; Dwight, the eventual baby, and I. What are we as a group? What do I call Dwight for that matter? My friend? My baby's father? My-

"We're a mile down the road, so open the fucking gates," Negan orders over the radio, startling me, "And make sure the fucking doctor's ready to earn his fucking keep."

That doesn't sound good. "Copy that." One of the guards answers back immediately.

I sit up and reach for my shoes to put them on. I then turn the stove off and go to meet them out front. I keep calm as I navigate the halls, telling myself that everything's fine. Dwight said that they were going over to remind the people of Alexandria whom they work for, so everything should be alright, right? The Saviors always win; Negan always wins. That's how it is.

I can hear the engines of the trucks they took, roaring, as I make it to the catwalk. A few Saviors push me aside in a hurry to get outside. I'm out a few seconds after them and it's about that time the first few trucks roll in.

I stay at the yellow railing and wait for Dwight and Hal to get out of one of the vehicles. Some men hold their limbs with bloody hands, but appear to be alright enough to walk themselves to the infirmary, while one on the other hand is being pulled from the back of a flatbed, lifeless. As soon as the body is dropped on the ground, one of the men who pulled it out sticks a knife through the temple.

Finally, Hal's in my sights, nodding as Simon orders him to do something and then

sets off to do whatever the task. When I see Dwight, I start to go to the stairs, but he spots me and comes my way instead. His face looks somewhat troubled.

"Hey."

"Hey, what's going on?" I inquire, worriedly.

Dwight continues to walk towards the open doors. "We'll talk later, I have to get everyone on blue level."

Blue level? I don't know what that means. I know a level orange is when we're direly low on medical resources, such as when Dwight stole all the insulin and some other meds and ran off with Sherry and his sister- in law. "Um, okay."

He stops and looks at me, apologetically. "Everyone's supposed to gather out front, so just stay here and...and wait, alright?" I nod and he walks off.

...

It took an hour for every Savior and worker in the entire community to file out into the front of the Sanctuary. The workers were all sequestered to the back by the gates, where the dead snarl lethargically at them. The heat is subduing because of the hour of day, so at least it's not too unbearable. From where I stand, I look side to side, front and back for Hal, or Laura, or any face that'd be welcoming to see, but the crowd's pretty dense.

It's intimidating to see how many Saviors there actually are in this factory alone. I always knew there were a staggering amount, as a whole, but it's weird seeing just how much of them are here. There's a wave of chatter about the "crazy shit" that happened at Alexandria, but I'm not sure what to believe. Some of it sounds a little too fantastic to me.

Finally, all the talk dies down and everyone draws their attention to the top of the concrete platform. I can make out Simon, Dwight, and Eugene in the background, as Negan strolls up to the yellow railing with a grave face. He looks out into the sea of his people, not fixing his gaze on anyone in particular.

Negan lifts Lucille in air. "We are going to war!"

His declaration brings uproar of cheering from the Saviors, who raise their fists in solidarity with the leader. I, however, can feel a rising panic in my chest cavity. My heart pounds like I've just run two miles. I look to Dwight behind Negan and his eyes are already on me with a terrible look that makes me have to push back tears.

People go off in separate, fixed directions and so I beeline it to the steps. I have to wait to get up the stairs, since there's a little traffic, but Dwight's at the top off to the side, waiting for me. As I'm two steps away, Dwight reaches his hand out and I take it, letting him pull me towards him.

I open my mouth to speak, but my brain is still trying to process everything. "Hi." Is all I manage to rasp, on the edge of crying, because of these fucking hormones that won't allow me to wall it up.

Dwight gently takes me by the arm and leads me to the entrance. "Let's go talk."

I nod and let him guide me, as I steal a glance back at Negan who's too busy doling out commands to have noticed me walking right past him, which I'm frankly grateful for.

We go to Dwight's room and he closes the door, sighing heavily with stress. He sits down on the edge of the bed and runs his hands through his hair, before bringing them down in his face.

I count to five, before going over to sit next to him. "What happened today?"

Dwight looks down at his hands. "What happened was that they knew we were coming and they had guns."

"They attacked you?"

"Yeah," He nods, "But some people they thought were on their side weren't and it...changed how they thought things were gonna go, I imagine."

My stomach knots. "Did...did Negan kill someone?"

"No," Dwight glances at me, "a few people died in the gunfire, but if you're asking if he used Lucille, then no. He didn't get the chance."

"Everything will be okay, though, right?"

"I hope so, Nan."

I shift in my seat, unnerved. "But we're stronger, I thought. We have more people, more weapons, more everything. How can we be at the point of having to go to war after one day?"

Dwight sighs. "Because they won today and they're done providing for him. They outnumbered us...and even had a fucking tiger."

My eyes widen and I'm silent for a second to contemplate whether, or not I heard him right. "Did you just-"

"Yes, I said tiger."

Without thinking, I wrap my arm around his. "What are we going to do?" Dwight comfortingly puts his hand on my leg and so I rest my head on his shoulder.

"It'll work out for us, Nan," Dwight says low, "I promised you that I'd make things better and I will."

Well, here it is. This final chapter until October, which makes me feel oddly melancholy, because I really enjoy writing Save Yourself and I'm excited for all I have planned for Nan, Dwight, and even Negan that I don't want to put the story on pause.

Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following! The overall support has been so fantastic ; you're all the best! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I wanted to break on a sweeter, semi- positive note, before shit gets bonkers.

*Shameless Self- Promotion*: I will be putting out another story around the same time next week, as I mentioned last chapter. It's an AU, pre- apocalypse story called, "For You I Was a Flame". It's a Dwight/OC/Negan fic. Give it a glance, if you're interested. :)

If not, then see ya in the fall!