A/N: I thought it was time to explore Cynthia's POV again since I haven't since chapter five. Ehehe, whoops. Also, Negan is coming next chapter. :D


Alex is so sweet, how come I never like liked him? Cynthia thought, watching Alex pick at his fingernails. A habit Theresa said drove her crazy.

A few questionable Saviors filled the rest of the van while they trekked off en masse to their following destination. Albert sat beside her doing a crossword puzzle gifted by Gina.

How come I could never fall in love with you?

No, she always had to like the difficult ones.

Gareth.

Gareth was so gorgeous, funny—when the humor wasn't dark—and more intelligent than she thought herself. She fantasized about him running his hands through her hair and nipping at her lips. His soft voice in her ear saying he loved her, and his eyes filled with adoration, seeing her as a woman rather than a fragile little lamb.

Yeah, right.

What he needed was not her, but an even bigger jackass than himself, Martin. Who to Cynthia's deep regret, she found her eyes wandering to despite her initial disinterest. He was certainly attractive and her cheeks warmed the day she saw him half-naked rinsing off by a creek bed, revealing a tattoo on his chest. And he was at least a decent enough guy that he stopped pursuing her when she rejected him. Several times throughout their lives in the wild, she considered seeking him out and letting him take her.

Bad idea, a voice in her head had always stopped her.

While her mind was in such a place, she had also wondered what such attractive egotistical jerks were like in bed together. She was uncertain what all sex between two men entailed...

Ugh, I'm the perv. Jeez, Cynthia.

Her situation ate away at her and she needed help. Albert was her best friend and the first choice, but her dilemma was something she wanted another female for. Theresa was both unavailable and mad at her. Besides, she pictured her advice going something like, "What!? You still like Gareth!? He's emotionally unavailable and married to the job! And what!? You considered Martin? He's even worse! What's wrong with you!?"

The woman could be so judgmental, but she had found someone worthwhile with no trouble. She didn't know what it was like to be that special kind of lonely.

Kaylee was a girl, but after what she did, approaching her about boy advice seemed awkward. That and Cynthia had no recollection of Kaylee being interested in anyone. No mentioned boyfriends—or girlfriends—pre-turn, no one at Terminus she liked. No one.

Gina... Gina would give blunt advice for sure. However, she would no doubt go off into obscene territory. Cynthia thought her worse than a jock sometimes.

No one wanted to hear that Greg was 'uncut and au natural,' Gina.

Alex!

Alex knew Gareth better than anyone. He was a he and she felt it might be weird, but it was the best she would get.

She slunk over beside the spot where Alex sat picking at his nails. It was then she realized their lack of privacy.

"Yeah?" Alex asked her, bringing his hands down. "Cynth'? Did you need somethin'?"

"Um..." she stuttered, noticing she had been staring at him. Her gaze darted around the ten Saviors. "It was nothin'. Nevermind."

Forget it.


"We'll head out tomorrow," Gina told the group inside a small department store, pulling off her fingerless gloves and shaking them out.

Dusk had settled and Cynthia sat alone on a bench in the raided shop. Saviors went about their business and Cynthia noted Albert chatting with Alex from across the room.

Why are they suddenly so friendly?

"I think Negan will like you," a female Savior said, tucking a strand of her black hair behind her ear and peeling open a candy bar. "Mm-mm-good." She looked Cynthia up and down and took a large bite of the candy.

Cynthia stiffened and forced a polite smile.

"Hey, Jan," Gina called, making her way over to the two. "Go stuff your fat face outside."

Jan shrugged and took another bite, then strolled toward the exit.

"Ignore her," Gina said, taking a seat beside Cynthia. "She likes to freak out new people. Bitch thinks she's hot shit 'cause of all the points she's been rakin' in lately."

Cynthia squinted. "Points?"

"How we earn our dues."

"That sounds awful."

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it."

She smiled. "You said that at Terminus, too."

She scratched the back of her head. "Yeah, but I gotta admit I like a points system better than munchin' on people. We move around a bunch and gotta crack some eggs to make our omelet, but we're stronger 'cause of it. Terminus was gonna go up in smoke one way or another. What would we have done once we ate every livin' person left in Georgia?"

"Yeah... I guess. It was home, though."

"It was a place of nightmares. Ones we had done to us and ones we made ourselves, but like I said, I ain't dwellin' on it." She removed her canteen from her belt and took a swig. "You seem a little more stable than the last time I saw you. Thought all this would make you a basket case."

She bit her tongue to avoid cursing her out. "W—well, I'm not a helpless little... I'm... Gareth was the one that went off the rails. Obsessed with punishin' someone—anyone—for what Rick's folks did that he stopped listenin' to us. I heard him talkin' into a tape recorder like it was a message for his mom or somethin'."

Gina's eyes widened. "Oh, shit. Well yeah, I can see it. He gets so lost in Gareth-land sometimes he forgets where he really is. Gets too damn big for his britches."

She giggled. "Yeah."

Gareth passed through the front door and started toward them. Cynthia suppressed a smile as he approached. "No offense, Gina," he began as he stopped before the two, "but I'm parched and not sure I want to share slobber with your new friends just yet." He held out his three-fingered hand.

Cynthia fought the urge to take his hand and entwine her fingers with his.

"You seem damn proud of those stumps," Gina said, focusing on his digits. "And how do you know I ain't been sharin' it with every Tom, Dick, and Harry?"

Look at me, look at me, look at me... why isn't he looking at me?

"Shows I survived. And because you're territorial about your possessions. Remember your coffee mug? I thought you were going to skin Chuck when you found him drinking his daily chamomile out of it."

She handed the canteen to him and he took a long drink. "Gotta love the taste of Virginia creeks." He licked his lips handed it back to Gina. "Eight tomorrow morning?"

Cynthia held back a whine. His lips... she would give anything to kiss them again.

Gina nodded. "On the dot."

"Right. Don't be tardy, you crazy kids. Big, big, big day." He waved himself off, throwing a quick glance at Cynthia before heading back outside.

Cynthia slouched and her face crumpled. "Why am I so in love with him? He's such a dick."

Gina's eyebrows shot up. "You're what?"

"Yeah, I always have been. It just took until we got out in the wild that to realize it. He don't want me though. Told me himself."

"Oh, girl... that's not..."

"Ugh, Martin. He got back hookin' up with him again. Said it's 'cause it's all no strings. Meanin' I'd be a high-maintenance ball and chain."

She laughed. "Oh, shit? Really? Well, you know, Martin's fun for a roll in the hay, but that's all. Gareth's an idiot for not wantin' you. Somethin' seriously wrong with him if he turned you down."

Cynthia smiled. "Thanks. I mean, don't he gotta miss havin' a girl?"

"I... don't think it works like that. But you'd think he'd be tired of Martin."

"You weren't."

She frowned. "Rather not get into my own issues."

"Sorry." She fiddled with her hands. "I hate him."

"Gareth or Martin?"

"Both."

"Hey, know if I was into girls, I'd be scissorin' you until you got cut in half."

Cynthia blushed and half-smiled. "Um, thanks."


Cynthia stood in the center of the Terminus's butchery room, her arms crossed and skin itching from the gruesome sights.

Why am I in here? she wondered.

Gareth appeared from behind a slab of hanging meat, filling her with relief. He swiped a bit of blood from a liver resting in a metal tray and licked it off his finger.

"Ew, that's blood," she remarked. "Why'd you do that?"

Gareth removed his finger with a pop. "Still want to kiss me?"

She grinned "Of course. God, yes!" She bounced over and threw her arms around him. Their mouths came together in a passionate kiss, her tongue taking in the blood's irony tang.

He pulled away and held up a piece of raw thigh meat. "Lucy. Did her in as a walker. She'll be on our menu tonight." He raised a finger to his lips. "Shhh, don't tell everyone else or they'll get mad because, oh bloo bloo, we're not monsters!" He cackled.

She forced a laugh. "Well, we're not. Monsters can't love like this." She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Or fuck like this." He ripped her dress down the center and rendered her stark naked. She giggled and he reached between her legs, making her gasp and buck against his touch. He spun her around and pushed her against the slab of meat.

She paused. "Oh, no. I don't wanna do it against the—"

"Human corpse? Human meat? God, Cynthia, you're still so afraid to say it. Even Alex is steadier around it." He took a few steps back.

"Why? Why do we have to do this here?" She crossed her arms over her breasts.

He scoffed. "You don't get it. Never have."

"I stayed with you and helped this happen! I ate it, I understood. I still do. Why's it such a big deal I don't wanna live in it?"

"If you want me, you have to live where I do. I have to be somewhere you and everyone else has the luxury of not spending all their timeon the killing floor. All day, every day, it's where I operate. You live out in the courtyard with your sunflowers and 'hello m'am's.' I'm here stuck in the real world. You want in? Come to the real world with me."

"This ain't the real world and you know it. And you do come outta here sometimes. Or you do since we've been outta Terminus, I've seen it. You loved your mom, and you love your brother and you care about us. Not just as soldiers to keep alive 'cause it increases our chances of survivin', but as your family."

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "The hell with this. Martin's probably up for a roll in the hay. He bitches at me too, but it's fun to argue with him. With you, it's a damn drag."

Tears welled up in her eyes as he tossed her torn clothes at her.


She awoke with a jerk, sensations of her dream fresh in her body and mind. Her queasy stomach at the butchery room, her glee at Gareth's embrace, the arousal in her loins, and the crushing blow his cruel words.

It was a lie. Gareth had grown since their time away from Terminus. He spoke to Alex like a brother more often than an employee and listened when his people dissented. Stupid dream. Still, warmth claimed her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. At his darkest, the things he said in her dream could have easily come from his mouth in reality.

"Hey, mom?" Albert's voice came from beside her. "You have a bad dream?"

Her head whipped around, worried a Savior in the van heard what he called her. "T—Terminus," she whispered. "I was back. I... I'm so glad we're outta that place."

Albert nodded and put his arm around her. "Yeah, I know."

"You do?"

"Hindsight. It didn't seem so bad when we were there, but now? I never want to see it again."

"I know, I never thought I'd be havin' nightmares about it. I mean, other than the Occupiers. About what we did there. It was all normal then, now it's like a bad dream."

"Well, bad dreams end."


Theresa avoided the looks of the Samaritans as she helped Martin across the streets to their 'home.' Though she could feel their pitiful stares as she escorted her battered teammate. She grit her teeth hard enough to cause a headache to avoid going ballistic on the residents.

A sense of dread hit her gut. How were they going to escape with Martin in such a state? Bruises were one thing, but a rib on his left side was cracked. And with no pain relievers allowed—aspirin and disallowed in their house—he would be unable to move properly for days if not more than a week.

Theresa's blood boiled.

Though her anger subsided for awkwardness when she stood back-turned in the restroom while Martin struggled out of his pants to rinse off in the tub. She awaited some lewd joke, the situation was ripe for countless ones, but all that sounded was running water. It was then she actually wished he'd say something inappropriate to cut the tension.

Adding insult to injury, he had to change into more bright colors—because put on a happy face! Theresa then escorted him to his twin bed in their room and helped him down. He let out a groan of relief as he fell to the bed and shut his eyes.

You're my test run for having a toddler, you know, she wanted to joke, but the words refused to form on her lips.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked.

He gave a shake of his head. "No."

Funny, because when he had his sprained ankle, he tried to wrangle her and Alex into doing anything and everything he could for him.

It hurt her to see him like that, so un-Martin-like and degraded. Once she would have rejoiced in seeing him marred. She recalled how the gun felt in her hand when she pressed it to his temple, desperately wanting to pull the trigger for tipping off Carol and Tyreese.

Theresa moved to the doorframe and flicked off the top light. "Okay well, if you do, just yell for me."

"Sure thing."

She strode out the door and into the vibrant living room, its cheerful colors making her seethe. The front door opened and a solemn Beth and Tyreese entered.

"Hey," Tyreese began, shutting the door behind him, "they didn't let me—"

"Go fuck yourself," Theresa bit.

"You know I couldn't stop it."

"Even if you could, you wouldn't have. Twist and snap goes little Judith's neck. Almost. Could've happened."

"I ain't gonna hold grudges right now."

"Oh, right. You sorry sack of shit, someone torched your girlfriend and you took a day and decided, oh well, let's go out for coffee."

He squinted and looked to Beth. "Did you...?"

She frowned and shrugged. "I'm sorry, she pried it outta me."

Tyreese raised his arm to his hip. "Don't judge me on shit you know nothin' about. No, you know what? I don't care, stop tryin' to change the subject. We can't focus on our 'issues' right now, we have to—"

"I ate your sister's boyfriend too," Theresa interrupted. "You still want to forgive me, huh? He tasted so good, you have no idea. Scrumptious."

"Knock it the fuck off, Theresa!" Beth snapped. Theresa froze, unable to process what her words. "You actin' like this is gonna ruin our chances. We don't have to try and get out together, but we are 'cause it's the smart thing to do. You said yourself we all need to cool it. You don't get a pass to have a tantrum like a little child every time somethin' ticks you off. So suck it up like we are so we can get out of here."

Theresa's pulse beat in her ears and she glared back at Beth. Her quivering hands snatched up a metal lamp from the table beside her, yanking its cord from the wall socket, and lobbed it over Beth's head. Beth ducked and the thing crashed behind her.

"Don't!" Tyreese shouted, stepping in front of Beth.

"Then stop me!" Theresa fired back. "Hit me! Call me a bitch, a fucking monster! Do it, god damnit!"

"Why!? Why do want us to hate you so bad!?"

"Because it's what we do! I hate you, and you hate me back. There's no other way so stop acting there is! Stop act—" An ache in her throat inhibited her speech and heat pressed from behind her eyes.

Forgiveness was never a possibility, not anymore. She knew that, so why didn't she kill those three in the shack?

Dumb, weak, spoiled girl.

Sipsey's luxuries had softened her. Perhaps she was better out in the wild. In the real world where it was impossible to forget how easy it was to lose everything. That was what the Samaritans' problem was—they were pampered, spoiled, and it made them delusional. Though what Tyreese and Beth's problem was, she had no idea. They'd been out in the real word too.

"Theresa," Martin's agitated voice broke through her racing thoughts.

She whirled around to him leaning against the doorway. "What are you doing up!?"

"Some crazy bitch was hollerin' and throwin' shit. Sorta interrupted my beauty sleep."

She sighed in relief—that was the Martin she knew. "I'm—I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Eh, not like I can sleep with the whole blinding pain thing, so..."

Her face fell. "I don't know what to do about that. I'm powerless here."

"I don't blame you." He looked at Beth and Tyreese and shook his head. "Holy shit, my life's a joke." He staggered back to their room.

Beth peeked out the front window. "It's Sarah. Oh, um... we gotta get the lamp up or she'll know we were fightin'."

"If she's not coming because she heard us," Theresa said, grabbing up a shawl from the sofa and gathering pieces of the lamp with it.

"Where do we say it went if they ask?" Tyreese asked as Beth helped Theresa gather lightbulb shards.

Theresa hurried over to the sofa and shoved the shawl underneath it. "We'll say I was moving it and dropped it or... Martin stumbled on it."

God, she had fucked up. If the powers that be found out, she could get the beating Martin had gotten.

Beth kicked at a few remaining pieces of glass to disperse them as a knock came from the door. The three attempted to look natural as Sarah came through. "Hello, you three," she beamed.

The sight of the woman with Mary's face was too much and Theresa stomped into the kitchen. She parked herself at the table, hands cupping the sides of her face.

"I understand your frustration, Theresa," Sarah called. Theresa slid her hands into her hair and tugged on it.

"You're not actually here to see Martin, are you?" Beth asked.

"Oh, no, no," Sarah answered. "He needs time to rest a night before we see him. I came to inform you we have a trade happening tomorrow and you'll be required to stay indoors."

"Why? What trade?" Tyreese asked.

"Just an exchange of goods with another group."

"Who you don't try to abduct and convert?"

"No, sadly they have not yet come to see our ways. Their leader is quite the fearsome man and we've had no choice but to bend to their requests."

"Why do we have to be out of the way?"

"You're all still... unstable and might think of using it as an opportunity." Theresa lifted her head and attuned her ears. "Two guards will be assigned to keep watch here."

"Great," Beth griped. "Prisoners in our own prison."

"I know this is hard, Beth. But it gets better, I promise."

Fearsome leader? We might 'use it as an opportunity?'

Theresa wondered what it would take to get him to snap.