The days at the Sanctuary slid slowly by.

Outside the boundaries of the looming factory fences, the leaves on the trees had already turned from green to fiery oranges, reds, and browns, creating a rich canvas of colour that told the residents that Fall was here and Winter definitely was not too far behind it.

Even with Blake's being gone, the workers from the gardens had already begun to stockpile all the fruit and vegetables they could harvest. And although it would certainly be a far better year than the last few had been, times would still be tough. Rationing would come into effect with lieutenants unable to go out of lengthy runs and scavenge for more supplies, hindered by the weather and treacherous conditions out on the roads.

The entire place felt subdued, partly because most were aware of the imminent few months and the hard times that would come with it. But partly due to the fact that everyone here, from the smallest most seemingly insignificant worker, to the most high up of lieutenants, noticed Blake's gaping absence at the Sanctuary.

By now, of course, everyone had heard what had happened.

That Blake had just upped and left with, from what they had heard, no explanation.

Whispers had travelled like wildfire, with everyone coming up with their own theories as to why she had gone.

At first everyone had blamed Negan, for he was the obvious choice for whose fault it must be. Maybe he had chased her away, cheated on her, lied to her. But these theories were swept away as quickly as they came, as just judging by the look on Negan's face, it was obvious that he was at loss, hurting, missing her as much as they all did.

Negan was still, to most, an intimidating presence around the place, but of late, seeing the tall and usually angry leader of the Saviours being tailed about the place by a two year old, really was a sight to behold. There was no doubt that he wasn't great with her and fiercely protective, that becoming obvious on one of their more recent walks out into the lots together, 'patrollin'' as Negan had called it, when Mia had gotten a little too close to the fences that housed the chained up walkers. Several of the Saviours that had witnessed it, had described in animated gestures how quickly Negan had snatched her away and how he had proceeded to yell at Simon for being so stupid to chain a damn walker where Mia could get to it. They had described the panicked look in his eyes, the one only seen in a father's eyes when their child is put in danger.

It was of course true that Mia and Negan had grown close and over these past few weeks the kid had gone from someone that Negan tolerated having around for the sake of his relationship with Blake. To someone he now considered as close to his own child as he would probably ever get.

And with Blake gone, it was as though he was pouring all his love, he had usually always reserved for the tall blonde, into Mia instead.

Negan admittedly had never been one for all that soppy shit, but these last few months had changed him. He considered himself to be a different man now.

Blake had thawed his heart when he thought it would always be cold.

She had brightened his world when he had thought he would forever live in the darkness.

She had been his everything.

Fuck, she still fucking was.

Each day Negan tried to busy himself with Mia's never-ending stream of demands, trying to push thoughts of Blake away, knowing that he needed to give her time….space….hoping that someday she would come back to him.

But the night's came and Negan's heart would begin to ache again.

Mia was, more often that not, out for the count by seven, and that left Negan with nothing but a bottle of whisky and his own thoughts and fears.

What if Blake no longer wanted him?

What if she didn't survive alone out there?

Hell, Negan didn't even know where she was. And so how the hell was he supposed to protect her?

By the third day, Negan had watched from the high window of his room as Arat, un-noticed by anyone but himself, had taken one of the cars and a pack full of supplies and disappeared off somewhere, only to return a couple of hours later, avoiding his eye, ready for her run out with the men.

Negan wasn't stupid, he knew of course where she had probably gone, but did not question her on it, turning a blind eye on this occasion.

Arat was only being loyal to Blake, and the dark-haired Saviour couldn't blame her for that.

And so he had stood there in the lot, with Mia settled in one arm, watching as the truck and cars left the Sanctuary, with the sun going down behind them a bright burst of orange colour, filling the sky with a warm pink glow.

The tiny toddler, who had already settled her head beneath Negan's chin, let out out a huge yawn that prompted the dark-haired man out of his thoughts and back to reality once more.

"You beat, kid?" he asked, glancing down and readjusting her tiny form against his chest. "Yeah, me fuckin' too."

And with that, he headed inside, meandering back up to his room and closing the door shut behind him, blocking out the world.

Crossing the room, illuminated now by only the dying light from the large window, he placed a now-sleeping Mia down onto the his king-size bed, pulling the comforter around her and bending down and pressing a scratchy kiss to her smooth, clammy temples.

Shit, he adored her.

She really was the only fucking thing that had kept him going this last few days.

Of course Mia definitely seemed like she was missing Blake too, asking about her whenever she got the chance and asking questions that Negan would have no hope of finding the answer to, without the toddler bursting into tears.

Negan stood up straight, running a hand down his tired face before letting out a sigh and strolling on over to the couches across the room, happy with sitting there for the rest of the night in the ever-growing darkness with only some whiskey for company, drifting off into a drink-induced slumber right here on the chair.

He unhooked his black radio from his belt and placed it down onto the coffee table beside Lucille, who had barely moved over the past few days. For even Negan knew that he would struggle to juggle the weapon and the two-year old when she was done with walking. And heaven fucking forbid she got herself hurt by the damn thing. Negan didn't know whether he'd ever forgive himself.

Pfft.

He could have fucking laughed at himself now. A far cry from is usual badass self, he was, these days, more like a glorified fucking nanny.

Fuck. If Rick the Prick or any of those other assholes who cowered before him on a regular basis could see him now...

Negan slumped down onto the couch and dragged the bottle of whiskey towards him, but he stopped suddenly, pausing in what he was doing.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He couldn't fucking go on like this, drinking himself into nothingness each and every night.

He lifted both hands rubbing them up and down his face, before flopping back against the leather couch cushions and staring up at the shadowed ceiling above his head.

"Fuck. Where the hell are you, Peaches?" he murmured to himself with a pained frown, before squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

Blake watched the pinks of the setting sun drifting across the white painted walls of the living room she was sat in, her mind still on Arat's visit just a few hours ago.

What the dark-haired woman had told her about Negan and Mia had made her heart achefor them.

And it hurt her now knowing that the pair of them were back there….where she was not.

But Blake knew she had no one to blame but herself. And all she hoped was that the pair of them were doing ok...that they were getting on with their lives, without Blake there slipping into depression and risking pulling them down into it with her.

Blake had needed time to be apart from them, even though it was killing her to do so.

God she missed them both terribly, every inch of her hurting as she thought of them.

The minutes and hours slowly drifted by, the pinks on the ceiling turning into purples and then blues and then an inky blackness that spread over the room, swallowing it in night.

And yet Blake just lay there, curled up into the flowery sofa, head resting on a dark green, ancient-looking cushion, just staring.

She hadn't even bothered to light a candle, and only flinched what must have been at least two hours later, when the sound of one of the dead, clattering against the fence outside, twenty feet away, snapped her from her stupor.

She hastily stood, moving over to the window and drawing the curtains tightly closed. It was too late to go out and deal with that thing now, and so she would hole up inside and keep quiet, hoping that by morning the rotter would have moved on and lost interest.

But with the dusky light from the clouded dusky sky now shut out, the room was plunged into darkness.

Blake made her way over to the fireplace, fumbling for a large storm jar filed with a large yellowing pillar candle that sat on the mantle, and lighting it with a sleek metal pocket lighter that Arat had left in her first pack of supplies.

The flame instantly blushed yellow, allowing one side of the room to be filled with a warm and welcoming light.

Blake placed the jar down onto the floor beside the mattress she was to spend yet another night on here on, already feeling the cold chill of night seep through her bones.

She had lit the fire in the grate for the last couple of nights to keep warm, but tonight Blake didn't feel like she even had the strength to do that.

Her stomach lurched now, her mind, in the quietness of everything, going back to the one person who she wished was with her. Who her mind had barely left since Arat had left her doorstep hours ago.

Negan.

It was as though they were always supposed to find each other, against all the odds that had been stacked against them in this desolate world.

Blake would never have guessed that she would find the man that would change her life for the better in amongst all the hurt and the pain of this horrible existence, but somehow she had. And now, despite how low she had been this last week, she still couldn't imagine her life without him.

All she wanted now was to hear his voice…

Sate the pain that was currently coursing through her heart.

Blake chewed on her lip, as her green eyes drifted over to the small side table in the corner of the room where the knife and the radio still sat.

She couldn't…

It wasn't fair…

But with a sad look, before she could stop herself, Blake had crossed the small room and picked up the radio, hovering with it close to her mouth.

What would she even say?

What if Negan didn't want to speak to her? What if he was done with her now?

But Blake frowned, giving a gulp, before holding the receiver to her lips, pressing her thumb down onto the button.

Negan had laid there for what felt like hours, unable to sleep, whiskey still in the bottle.

He hadn't bothered moving from the couch. He would sleep here, deciding that that was likely easier than disturbing Mia.

And so he stayed there, his mind on Blake and nothing else in the stillness of the night.

He willed sleep to take him, but still it did not, holding him in a state of exhaustion shrouded by a stark awakeness that threatened his very sanity.

Even imagining that he could hear Blake's voice now.

"Negan..."

Negan, who had his arm flung over his eyes gave a frown.

Was he dreaming?

The voice didn't come again….only a sudden burst of static from somewhere nearby.

And it took the dark haired man a few long seconds to realise just where the voice had actually come from.

Negan dragged his arm from his eyes, snapping his head around to look at the radio sitting on the low glass coffee table to his left.

From here he could see a small flashing green light as he heard another small burst of static.

And, without even a pause of hesitation, Negan snatched the radio from the table and held it to his lips.

But he stopped for a moment, mouthing at the air like a fish, eyes darting about in the darkness as though searching for the words.

Because, shit, what the hell was he supposed to say…worry setting in.

Did she need him?

Was she ok?

But his mouth seemed to work before his mind did, the one word he had held on his tongue for so long, spilling out like a held in breath.

"Peaches…I-I'm here" he hummed, a hard lump forming in his throat, which he quickly gulped away, waiting for a response.

And it took a moment to come. The seconds ticking by, feeling more like years to Negan now.

"H-How's Mia?" he heard Blake eventually say, her voice cracking over the line.

She sounded upset now, maybe even close to tears and Negan wasn't far behind himself.

But he gave a stiff sniff, righting himself.

"Yeah, she's good," he said in a low voice. "Givin' me the damn runaround as always."

Negan smiled up at the ceiling, pursing his lips together to keep the tears from forming.

He could almost picture Blake smiling back at that too.

But Negan quickly remembered just how far away she actually was. And how much he needed to see her face, those big ol' green eyes of hers...

A desperation rising within him.

For being away from her like this, it was killing him, little by little, day by day.

The line was quiet for a long moment, Negan wondering whether or not that was it. Perhaps that had been all she had wanted to know.

And so taking the lead the dark-haired Saviour spoke again, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"You doin' ok?" he asked now, in a voice quieter than before, feeling all of a sudden, wholly-aware that the line was not private. Any number of Saviours were probably listening to their conversation now. But did Negan even care anymore? Hell, everyone here fucking knew his feelings for Peaches these days. They knew that it had not just been a quick fling between them.

She was his damn queen, always had been, and nothing now was going to change that fact.

Blake answered promptly, her voice sounding distant.

"Y-Yeah, I'm ok…" she replied in a quiet voice. "...listen, Negan….I….I-I'm sorry...for everyt-"

But the line crackled and a loud carrying beep cut distinctly across what Blake was saying.

Negan gave a frown.

"Peaches?" he murmured, holding the radio to his lips and listening hard, but there came only static and another loud beep.

Shit.

But suddenly Blake's voice came over the line once more, crackly and barely audible now.

"...t-e...b-ttery...I…" she just about managed to say before there was another loud beep and then nothing.

And Blake was gone again, just like that.

Negan let out a huff and hung his head low, closing his dark eyes, knowing that she was out there somewhere…

...and without Arat, Negan had no chance of knowing where...

Blake stared at the radio in her hand, now dead and lifeless.

Tears littered her cheeks, but the smallest of happy smiles played upon her lips

Hearing Negan's voice had warmed every fiber of her.

She missed him terribly and speaking to him, only served to prove to her how much.

He was her everything and she prayed that the day would come soon where she would feel better and well enough to go back to him.

Him and Mia.

Where she truly belonged.

And so, clutching the radio to her chest, Blake let out a sob. But unlike all of the other tears she had shed these last few days. These were not tears of mourning, or loss, or anxiety.

But instead, these were tears of hope, of encouragement, of a knowledge that things were destined to get better again.

She was sure of it...

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: stacey40, CLTex, Elizabeth, LJH, Guest, Kathiena, Green, mari2009 and Rumbelle96.

I'm so glad you're all still enjoying this. I can't believe how long this has been going, and how many chapters we've gone through. It's like an entire knovel right now, maybe even more.

Anyway thanks to you all for sticking with me. :)

Please review!