A/N Did anyone notice last chapter how RM didn't swear much at all? This chapter is a bit somber, but it has a happy ending!
Catharsis (n.) the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.
Negan sits with his arms folded in the front passenger seat of the truck. He is not amused. "This is your great plan?"
My eyes shift side to side. Maybe I didn't think this all the way through. "Well, bitch, I never freaking drove before!"
He leans over, starting the truck with the keys. "It helps if you turn the motherfucker on."
"It helps if you turn it on," I mock him. Alright, good. Now I have power. Okay, what do I do now? I start turning the wheel to the left, then back to the right. "Hmm. It's not moving forward like my big wheels."
"I'm going back to bed."
My hand lurches out at him as I grab his leather sleeve. "No, please. Negan… this is important, and I know you're scared, but this is how you heal."
"I don't even know what this is. You won't tell me where we're going."
"Well," I stammer. I guess here goes nothing. "We're going to bury Lucille."
"Nope!" Negan reaches for the door handle only to have the door closed back on him, Madsen on the other side shaking his head no. "Let me out, Madsen!"
"Negan," I beg him. "You're not well. You've been in bed for three months. Look at all the weight you've lost. You don't shower. You don't eat. Everything that Lucille helped you do when she got you sober you're ruining because what do you think you're doing to your body? You're killing yourself!" Ugh, my eyes are sweaty. "Look, if you don't want to go, we won't go. I'm not going to force you into burying your wife if you're not ready, but I really think that you need this."
Negan lowers his head as his tears hit his dirty jeans. "Shit."
"Plus, it really took a lot of convincing on my part for Madsen to even let me go alone with you, but he knows how important this is. It's how you heal, Negan. It's how you grieve your wife. You are killing yourself in that room. You're wasting away to nothing. Do this for yourself, for peace of mind."
He sighs heavily, sniffing up his nose. "When the fuck did you get so smart?"
I snap him a glare. "I'm going to take that as something nice instead of the insult it is."
"And for fuck's sake, let me drive. You can't even reach the pedals. Should have called you stumpy with those legs."
Oh, duh. Pedals. That's why it won't go. "Yeah, and I'm going to call you bumpy when I throw you out and run you over!"
"Again, that would imply you could reach the pedals." He gives me a weaselish laugh.
Why did I agree to this again? "Ow, stop pushing!"
"Bitch, get out of the way so I can drive!"
"Go around, ow!" Ugh, this is going to be the longest ride ever.
I've never been to this part of Maryland before. It doesn't even look like the undead have touched this area.
Negan signs heavily, turning onto a residential street. "This place has fallen to fuck since the last time I was here."
Of course, he would think that. "Madsen used to have a real nice house like these are until it was burned down." But honestly, I'd take his trailer any day. I have the best memories there. And there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish that we lived there. Things were just easier then, or maybe they weren't, I don't know. Madsen was so good at hiding his stress up until the final days that he knew he was being sent to prison. I'm pulled away from my thoughts when Negan slams on the breaks.
"Holy shit." He smirks ear to ear. "Mrs. Sansford!"
My eyes widen. "Where are her clothes?!" It's just an undead in an open bathrobe.
"Exactly. She was a slut then and she's a slut now. Lived a few houses down from me."
I'm not going to point out the fact we're here for Lucille yet this has turned into some kind of undead fetish show. Gross.
"I like to think when I'm dead and gone and one of these sorry fucks, that I spend my time eating other things... if you know what I mean." He chuckles at his own atrocious joke.
"I bet you'd still annoy me with your mouth as an undead."
"Any-fucking-way." The truck comes to a stop. "This is me."
My eyes roam the huge beast of a house. "Wow, this house is real nice. You made this much from yelling at kids?"
Negan rolls his eyes.
"Wait, Lucille is here? I thought you said she was at the hospital."
He pauses for a minute, seeming rather uncomfortable. "Well… she is. I just… wanted to put her in something nice before I buried her. She was in that gown the hospital gave her."
That's real sentimental of him. "What would you bury me in?"
"RM, that's morbid as fuck, change the subject. In fact, just shut up."
"Wrong answer, bitch." Pfff. Negan doesn't know a thing. "When I die, you can lower me into a glitter grave." I'm yelled at again, big surprise there. I slide off the seat of the truck, tripping when I fall to the ground. These things are way too big to get out of when you're this small.
Man, I wonder how much different my life would have been if Mama would have had us live in a place like this. I follow behind Negan as we walk inside. The first thing I notice is a picture of Negan on his wedding day sitting on a desk by the door. I laugh so hard I snort. It doesn't even look like him, and he sure wouldn't be mistaken for Madsen. "Oh my gosh! Your hair… it's…"
He swipes the picture from me and opens the desk drawer before shoving it in.
"Dork," I giggle.
Negan folds his arms with a pout. "She liked it that way, okay?" He grumbles something else as he goes up the steps.
I do some more investigating of his house while he's up there picking out an outfit. It's hard to believe that this badass Savior leader used to be domesticated like this. He puts on this front but yet I come back to a house full of former memories and it doesn't seem like the same man. Though, I guess a lot of people had to change for this new world. I think about my group of people. People like Madie and Cheeto. We all kinda live the same as we did before.
I turn a knob and go into this one dark room as the light from the house fills it a bit. "Whoa." There's a cool table in here that looks like it would be for sports, and a punching bag. I try to hit the bag, but it just hurts my little fist. I kick it in anger but stub all my toes. What is the point of this thing!?
"Let's go, RM," Negan startles me.
Already? We just got here. "Don't you want to reminisce?"
"No."
I squint my eyes as Negan rolls up this giant metal door. He's really serious about leaving? He didn't even get anything but an outfit for Lucille. "Negan, it's okay to stay longer."
"Don't touch that," he barks when I accidentally nudge some giant scissors on a table. "Those were… hers…" His head bows as he starts to sob again.
I feel awful for Negan. This reminds me of that time that we went to Madie's house and Negan tried to sit in his chair. How I yelled at him because I was trying to preserve any part of Madsen's memory that I could. The worst part is that I got Madsen back but Negan won't get that with Lucille. It's an awful position to be in. I walk over and wrap my arms around his dumpy body. "I'm sorry." Here Negan loses Lucille to cancer and I feel like he's got to face it all over again. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…"
Negan moves me off him and starts for the truck. "What's done is done. Let's get the fuck on so we don't lose the light."
It's so unlike him to see him this hostile towards me. I know that I am pretty annoying, but he always finds a way to put up with me. This trip is a disaster.
It's taking like seventy five days to get to there and we haven't even had any roadblocks to slow us down. It's just that long of a trip. "How much farther to the hospital?"
"Quite a bit farther. I tried to get her the best doctors so we went to a facility in Virginia."
Figures. I'm not used to being in the car this long, and if I try to do things inside the car, it gives me a stomach ache so my only option is to look at the signs. I wonder after everything with Lucille if Negan is going to come back and lead the Saviors again? Not that I mind doing it. I just want his head to be in a good place again. Though I'd never expect him to bounce right back into leading. I know he'll need time to grieve.
When the sun is at its highest point, I notice a new sign. "What's UVA," I pronounce.
"It stands for the University of Virginia."
That makes zero sense, but it turns out that we're here. I frown when I see the sign for cancer. Oh, wow, across the street is a building that looks like the smallest Sanctuary. I wonder if that's where Negan got the idea? Like maybe he could feel like he lived close.
"Come on RM. This place is dangerous. I don't need to bury someone else," he murmurs.
We walk over to the spot where the ambulances park. I swallow hard looking up at the tall building. There's really nowhere to run once we are in here, and, sadly, there are going to be a lot of undead in this building. Negan only has his knife, so I listen to what he says so I don't make things worse. Well, he has a gun too, but if you fire a shot off it always brings more. This place makes my eyes well up because I know that this was where he spent his time as Lucille lived out her final moments. I can't imagine watching my Madie die of cancer. Frail. Nonresponsive. Barely holding onto life. Ugh, I hate this for Negan.
Some of the undead Negan doesn't even bother with. He just shoves them to the side like they are nothing.
I wish I could close my eyes as we make the trip to Lucille's room so I don't have to see all this, but I know I have to put on my big girl DMs for it.
"We've gotta take the steps," he instructs as we take a detour behind a heavy metal door.
At least the steps are so dark that I can't see the death.
"It's the third floor." Negan takes me by the hand to help me up the steps faster because I keep tripping. "Here." The door opens into a swarm of undead that pull Negan right into the middle.
"Negan," I shrill. I don't know if it's the pain he's in or the anger he has, but these undead don't stand a chance. I breathe a sigh of relief when the last one hits the floor because he's safe.
"This way." He's not even phased he almost just died. "She's the fourth door down."
There sure is a lot of crap in this place. Trash, undead bodies, medical junk, broken bits of wood. Wait, is that a clothes warmer?! This place is weird. When we arrive at her door, I notice a body that keeps the door from actually closing. It's grotesque because I know that Lucille fed on the corpse.
"I'll be right back."
I figured he'd want me with him for support, but that's okay because it's whatever he needs at this point.
Negan presses his hands to the door frame and shakes his head. "I can't do this. I'm so fucking weak."
I touch his back to encourage him. "You're not weak. You can do this. I know you can."
He lets his knife fall to the floor before walking away.
"Negan!" I tug on his shirt but all it does is drag me with him.
"No!" He collapses to the floor and starts to sob. "I can't. I'm a coward."
I don't understand what he says after that. It's all a bunch of mumbles and cries.
"Same shit five years later. I'm never going to be able to bury my wife because I don't have the fucking balls to put her down."
This is worse than anything I've ever seen with Negan before. I take a deep breath and find courage within. "Then let me." The words are, surprisingly, not as difficult to say, it's just another thing to actually do them.
His dark eyes stare back at me in disbelief.
I get off the floor before I change my mind.
"RM."
I ignore him because this needs to be done unless he wants to join her. Madie said you can't die from sadness but I believe that you can, and Negan will if something doesn't change. However, it's not something I rush into because the fact of the matter is, this is his wife, and I don't want to take a precious moment from him. "Here." I move his knife over so he can take it. I try to offer him more encouraging words, but they fall short.
"Let's go back to the truck."
"No! We've come this far. This has to be done because the guilt over leaving her in that room is killing you."
"Then I'll fucking die," he yells at me.
"Give me the knife!" I pull it back to me. Like him taking his own life is not something that is always in the back of my mind. Every time I went to feed him, I was convinced I was going to find an undead Negan in his room. Do I want to kill this undead version of Lucille? Absolutely not, but Negan dying over this is something I can't live with. Especially because I can do something to save him now.
I swallow hard, nervously pushing open the door of Lucille's room. The door creaks then is stopped by something. My thought is that it's her, but it's some piece of furniture. Ugh, the smell is terrible. Like an old grocery store in here. That's when I see all the bodies in the room. I cup my hand over my face. Most of the people are skeletons, picked clean as tears move down my cheek and over my hand. However, I don't see Lucille in this room. Surely, she wouldn't be one of the bone bodies? Or maybe she is. I walk around the bed expecting to see her on the floor, but it's just more death. Is he sure this is the right room? I wonder where she-
Arms shoot out from under the bed and latch onto my boots as I'm yanked right onto my rear.
"Ow," I frown because the tile hurts. I bring my legs back to me before I'm bitten or scratched. That's when I stare back at Negan's wife as she drags herself to me. Sunken features. Loose skin. She gets ahold of my shorts and brings me to those jagged teeth, desperate for a long awaited meal. "No, stop!" I shove some on her shoulders to get free from her grip. When you're my size, everything is difficult. Even though Lucille isn't walking, it doesn't mean that she's not strong. This isn't the closest brush with death that I've ever had, but this is personal. I want to do right by Negan, but I'm so scared as I stare back into Lucille's empty eyes. The only expression on her face is this need to consume.
There are so many factors in this. It's like Negan said from the very beginning. If I don't kill and I become one of these undead, I will end up killing. Even more so if I don't come out of this alive because there's no way that Negan could have the strength to kill both me and Lucille which means I'd kill Negan.
I clutch Negan's knife tight, bringing it up some. All these former memories keep pushing their way into my thoughts and it ends up that Lucille backs me into a corner. Her hands desperate to get ahold of me. If this is so difficult for me to do, I can't imagine how hard it would be on Negan. It's just… this is so much harder than I thought. I think back to the day when the undead bit my cast. How it showed no mercy. These aren't people, RM. They are monsters. You can't reason with them because there is nothing inside. Just some empty vessel of destruction. "I'm sorry," I stammer, using all my might to drive the blade into her eye socket.
Her grip loosens as she falls limp against the tile. Blood slowly starts to seep from under her.
I try to catch my breath as my eyes stay locked on the once former first and original wife. "Lucille," my brittle voice calls. I nudge her shoulder just a bit.
Nothing.
My breathing picks up as I call once more. Did I? Is she? I bring my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I lower my head against my knees. My entire body is hot and my chest hurts so bad. This is overwhelming in every single way. "I'm sorry," I say again. I take hold of her hand, careful not to mess up the soft skin. "We're going to take you home now. You can rest and be close to Negan, okay?"
I grunt, using all my strength to get the blade out. It's all just so violent. I'm in a daze as I stumble from the room. I sigh heavily, dropping the bloody knife in my hand as I lean against the wall as breathe heavily. "That was really stressful."
He gets up off the floor and comes over to me. "It's… done?"
I try to be brave for Negan, but I can't and lose my composure. "Yes," I sob, covering my face. I cry harder once Negan wraps his arms around me. His cries don't help at all. "She was beautiful."
"Yeah… she was…"
"I was real gentle."
"I know you wer-" He can't bring himself to say anything after that.
Despite Lucille being one of the dead, her death takes quite the toll on me mentally and emotionally. Especially because of how intense it all was. I went in that room thinking it would be over before I could realize what I had committed too. Or even thinking she might already be dead. In a way, I feel like a part of me was left in that room. Maybe this childish part so that's not really a bad thing. I've done a lot of growing up these past few months.
It helps to cry and purge all these feelings. The undead are not people. Several times I've been shown this over the course of my life yet I've ignored it until today. If that undead hadn't have bitten my cast, I don't know if I would have had the strength to kill Lucille. I'd be in denial. Just like all the things that I was in denial about with Mama. Life sure does have a strange way of teaching you things, and I've had to learn the most painful lessons the hardest ways. Some days, I sure feel a hundred years old.
After some time, Negan comes out of the room carrying Lucille. A sheet wraps her body, but the part where I stabbed her in the head is bloody. He doesn't even look like himself, like he died with her back in that room.
"Did you get her dressed?"
He nods as his eyes start to well up.
"That's okay," I comfort him, touching him on his side. "Now she can rest, and so can you, Negan." I'm given another nod as he begins to walk towards the exit.
I make sure that I'm on the lookout for any undead so Negan can focus on her and follow Negan's lead like he did earlier. I carefully push the undead to the side or use moves like PM showed me. Once we're outside, I hold Lucille's feet for support until we make it to the truck. I'm not much help really. I guess I just wanted to contribute somehow.
As Negan closes the door, he rests his hand on the metal as his head bows.
This is one time when I know that I need to shut my mouth. No comforting advice. No smart remarks. No jokes. I just need to stand here for my friend and be in this moment. Well, I do curl my fingers around his. I know he knows that I'm here, but maybe this affection would offer some comfort. When he squeezes back, it makes me tear up some. I've cried enough today to last me the rest of my life, that's for sure.
"I'll never forget what you've done for me, RM."
"Same, Negan. You saved my life by helping me get sober."
"Yeah, well, you saved mine, too."
It makes my heart so full because after all this death today, those are very comforting words. At least, to me they are.
"Give me your hands." He takes his water bottle and makes sure to get all the blood and grime from my hands.
"Thank you," my voice wavers.
"I shouldn't have asked you to do that for me, but you don't know how goddamn grateful I am. I know I put you in this horrible position because you had to compromise your values and kill, and for that, I don't know if I can forgive myself."
"You didn't ask me, I offered and I did it to help you, and I don't see it as compromising my values," I tell him. "At least, not anymore. For too long I've seen the dead as people and they're not. Like you said, kill or be killed, and if you get killed, then you kill actual living people. It's taken me a long time to see that, but almost being bitten a few months back really helped me to understand and put things into perspective."
Negan pauses for a minute. "I love you, RM."
Heh, I know he does. It's not the same love as Madie has for me, it's love from family. "I kinda... maybe feel the same way." My eyes shift side to side embarrassed.
He's able to manage this half smile despite how much he's hurting. "Let's go home."
Yeah, he doesn't have to tell me twice, that's for sure. "Can we hold hands," I ask when Negan pulls out of the hospital.
"Yeah, bitch, we can hold hands."
"Bye, Charliesville," I say when I see one of the signs. "I wonder if Cheeto has heard of this town before?"
"It's Charlottesville."
Oh, well, dang. Meh, close enough. "Are you okay, Negan?"
"Is anyone okay, RM?"
When he brushes things off, it makes me so angry. I just want my friend to move on from a life he can no longer have. I want him to be happy and present in this one. The wives he keeps is such crap. He's protecting his heart from ever getting hurt again. He needs a strong woman, one that won't put up with his mouth. Who has a real resting bitch face. And she's gotta be smarter than him because he sure can smooth talk his way out of a lot of stuff.
"What are you scheming over there?"
"A nice girl for you to spend your life with."
"One vagina for the rest of my life? That sounds like a nightmare."
"You're a nightmare."
"Yeah, bitch, but you love me despite it. I heard it back there in the hospital. You want version 2.0, just say it."
Ugh, I'm never going to live this down.
A/N I know in the comics Negan has someone put down his wife for him, but I altered that obviously for this story. That's why Lucille was still "alive" and why I had RM do it. (Personally, I have always wondered if the person actually did put Lucille down because the fire extinguisher the guy uses on Lucille isn't bloody. And you never actually see the person put her down. Negan tells Rick she is dead in a later conversation, but he still never went back to her hospital room to check and confirm that she was.) Also, across the street from the cancer center at UVA there really is a building that looks just like mini Sanctuary. It has the smokestacks and everything. The next chapter will be the final one.
