Disclaimer: I don't own a thang, just the random OCs!

A/N: Hey people! It's been a while since I updated and I apologize for that! Lots of things happening in life lately (all good things)! I hope you all have been doing awesome! Anyway, we're back to the story... Last time, Bree was found in the woods by Negan and his crazy baseball bat (or is Negan the crazy one...?) What will happen next to Bree? Will she ever come across her classmates again? And where is MERLE DIXON, y'all?! (he's comin' soon, I promise! ;) )

Ch. 3: Bree- Civilized People

Three weeks.

I was out in those woods, by myself, without a weapon to my name, for three weeks. It is nothing but a miracle that I'm still alive and breathing. I'm still thanking God for showing me mercy. Somehow, I managed to survive on what Mom packed me that day for my trip to the baseball game. You know that story in the Bible, the one where Jesus feeds this huge crowd with just five loaves of bread and two fish? That's how I felt with what little food I had left.

A couple of chocolate candies for breakfast, a sip of water for lunch, and jerky for dinner. I was making such a big deal over Mom packing so much stuff, but now I have her to thank for pretty much my only food source besides wild berries, leaves, and nuts. My cell phone battery died a long time ago and not one of my phone calls were answered. I traveled those woods for all three of those weeks, hoping that I was heading south towards Florida, towards home.

I was on the verge of death when Negan found me. I'm by no means a "skinny girl", but those three weeks of starving turned me into a walking skeleton. I probably resembled one of the diseased when he came across me. Having a gun shoved under my chin wasn't exactly a warm greeting, but beggars can't be choosers. He offered food and a warm bed, two things I haven't seen for a long, long time. I was on my last pack of jerky and my water was just about gone. They'd found me at the right moment—any longer, and I might have been a goner.

"So, tell me about yourself, sweetie," Negan is saying as he and I, along with some other men, traverse through the woods. He's whistling some tune that sounds familiar, but my muddled mind can't recall it right now.

Negan looks like a member of a serious motorcycle gang, those ones that did more than just ride around on their glitzy Harley-Davidsons to show off. With his black biker jacket and dark jeans stuffed into a pair of strappy boots, it should be easy to see how I've come to this conclusion. He's not ugly either; his wide jawline, black, short-cropped hair, and striking green eyes makes me think of Clark Kent for some reason.

Time for introductions. "I'm Bree Evans…" I begin somewhat nervously. I swallow hard before continuing. It's not hard for me to dig up those manners that my mom had instilled in me from a young age. Always smile at strangers, be kind to others, and try to be considerate. I don't care if the apocalypse has hit; I'm still going to act like a decent human being, even if it's just to keep my own sanity intact.

A smile somehow crawls over my lips. "Thank you for helping me. I go…well, I went to a college in Florida."

Negan nudges the front of my hoody with his gun. The action is a little out of my comfort zone, so I stumble back a few steps. "UF?" the older man questions.

I nod and push some of my messy hair behind my ears. There's no telling what debris is in my hair-I haven't had a mirror to check. "Yeah. We were on a trip to a Braves game in Atlanta—"

"Ooh, don't you just love baseball?!" Negan suddenly squeals. He holds up his baseball bat, which is wrapped in a thick layer of barbed wire, and admires it. I notice that there's pieces of wet flesh dangling from it. Old blood stains have seeped into its wood. "Lucille here doesn't get to play much, but she just loves watching the game."

I smile at his quirky behavior. It is such a relief to hear another human being's voice and not just the automated voice that responded to me every time I called one of my contacts. He may be kind of weird, but I don't have a problem with it. Being a drama kid, you get used to the quirky behavior.

"We didn't make it to the game. There was some kind of hold up on the interstate and those diseased people started attacking my bus and-"

"Puppets," Negan corrects me. A dark look has taken over his green irises, clouding them in shadows. His face dips towards mine. "Don't refer to 'em as people. We call those things Puppets. They ain't human anymore."

I retreat physically from the angry look on his face, my eyes wide. Negan grins and pulls away from me. His meaty hand pats the top of my head and the dark look is gone.

"You'll learn the ways of the new world soon enough, young one," he says in a wizened voice. "Everything's a bit different now. But go on, sweetheart. Finish your story."

It takes me a while to recover from his sudden change in behavior. I clear my raw throat and force myself to nod. "W-We all got separated. I've been out here on my own for nearly three weeks now. You're the first person I've seen since the bus."

Negan lets out a low whistle. Something that resembles pity crosses his rugged features. "Poor thing. Those classmates of yours are all probably dead by now."

I bite at my bleeding lip and look away, refusing to believe him. "Maybe."

After a few more minutes of walking, a giant wall comes into view. There are a few people stationed atop it. When they see us coming, they immediately scramble into action. The gate hesitantly opens, revealing a city within the walls.

I can barely believe my eyes as we walk into the small city. There's really only a couple of buildings, but they are a good size. The place must have been some type of factory before the outbreak. People are actually bustling around like nothing has happened. Small children clasping their mother's hands, men pushing wheelbarrows, even tamed animals trot down the crowded sidewalk. The scent of fresh food billows through the bustling city. I blush when my stomach decides to unleash a ferocious growl. I grab at it and laugh with embarrassment.

"I can't believe this!" I say with a laugh of disbelief. I shake my head and scan the city. "Did… Did you build this?"

"With my own freakin' hands, baby!" Negan boasts. "This is what I like to call a utopia. People from all over the country are trying to get their happy butts in here. You've got yourself a ticket inside too, kiddo. Aren't you lucky?"

I grin and bounce on my heels with giddiness. For the first time in a long time, I feel hope. The stress of three weeks alone melts off of me as my eyes take in the beautiful sight of civilization. And did he say people from all over the country? In that case, I wonder… Could my family have also made it to this place?

"Mr. Negan?" I ask while turning to look at the dark-haired man.

"Just Negan. I'm not that old," he says with a grin.

I laugh and nod. That's a bad habit of mine. I call people Mr. and Mrs. Even if they look to only be a few years older than me. "Right, sorry," I say while returning his grin. "Has anyone else who looks like me came here recently? Three people?"

I watch Negan scratch at his stubbly chin. His green eyes roll around in his head as he processes my words. He gives a shake of his head.

"Nah, no one like you has washed into these parts," he admits with a shrug. "We did get a couple of Jamaican folks in here, not to be racist or anything like that." The white man raises his thick hands in defense. "We welcome every kind of person here, right, men?"

The men give mutters of agreement and a few snickers.

I can't help but to laugh again. It feels good; to laugh, I mean. It's been so long that my mind has been stuck in one mode: survive, survive, survive. I couldn't think of anything else, least of all laughter. But being back in the presence of mankind is enough to allow just a little laughter back in. I want to just keep laughing but I don't want him to peg me as a lunatic and throw my laughing butt back outside.

"I'm not Jamaican," I inform them with a tilt of my lips. "I'm actually of a mixed race, Hispanic and African-American. My family is the same."

"Well, we've got plenty of your kind of people around! You just take your time looking around the place, getting familiar with it and all. Maybe you'll come across your folks." Negan pauses. His eyes cut over to mine. "I'll come looking for you later, so don't go too far."

I smile and give him a nod. Negan grins and heads off with his surly partners in tow. I watch him for a while and then wrap my arms around myself as I take in the sprawling community of people.

Negan was being truthful. There's a fair amount of people from all walks of life in here. People come in a vast array of beautiful colors here. I drink in all of it with my eyes before I decide to start searching. If this place is as well-known as Negan claims it to be, then my family must have heard of it. I step into the crowd of people and allow myself to be bustled about.

I find things I haven't seen in what feels like forever. A shop selling all sorts of freshly-made foods, bedrooms open for anyone that is looking, animals for sale, soap, water, clothes and more. I continue to push through the city of survivors, my mind set on finding my family.

After nearly four hours of searching, I decide to take a break. I take up one man on his offer of a free room in the lower part of the factory. I unlock the room with the key the man gives me and go inside.

Inside is a wonderland. A bed with clean sheets, a refrigerator packed with fresh foods, and a shower. A shower! A freaking running shower with hot water! I all but rip off my clothes and jump into it the tub.

When the first droplet of hot water hits me, I feel like I've died and gone to heaven. Three weeks of grime and dirt come washing off of me and go down the drain. I wash my hair thoroughly, intent on getting all of the scents of the diseased…no, the Puppets out of it. A simple razor gets rid of the excessive hair that's sprang up everywhere. A smile blossoms over my face when I step out of the shower, still dripping, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Bree Evans smiles back, happy college student with dreams of being a world-famous author. I run my fingers through my wet, tangled curls until I'm able to work all of the knots out. I push all of my hair back and give my reflection a renewed smile. I wipe away the last of the grime from my face and grin.

Humanity. I feel it again in this place. My hands capture the cross dangling between my breasts and I laugh.

One knock on my bathroom door sucks the laughter right out of my throat.

"Knock, knock!" Negan calls from the other side of the door. "Is there a Bree Evans here?" There's a note of laughter in his voice that makes me want to grin, but I can't grin in this situation! I'm stuck in a bathroom, naked, mind you, with a guy banging on the door! This is not good.

"I-I'll be out in a minute!" I call back in as happy of a voice I can muster up. I go to grab my discarded hoody and jeans, but I can't put those on again. They're still caked in dirt and I can't bear to put those on again. I just washed away those memories of being trapped in the woods. I don't want them back again.

Instead, I opt for a fuzzy green towel and wrap it around myself. I spare my reflection a withering glare of frustration before I crack open the door. Negan's smiling face is in the crack, practically scaring the crap out of me.

"H-Hi!" I squeak. "Um… You wouldn't have any clothes out there, would you? Mine are…"

"Complete crap?" Negan finishes for me. "Yeah, lemme see what I can dig up."

Negan disappears from the door crack. I close the door and lock it this time. I sit down on the closed toilet and push my fingers through my dark hair. This is slightly awkward. I really don't want Negan to see me in just a towel. As a first impression, I'd say I'd already missed the "good" mark in my dirty hoody, stained jeans, and atrocious smell. Wearing only a towel might be even worse than that in my book.

I jump off of the toilet seat when Negan knocks again. He's fast.

"You look like you're a size 3 in bottoms, maybe five in a shirt?" he asks. Wow. That's actually perfect, especially considering that he's a guy.

"Yeah, that's perfect," I say with a smile he can't hope to see from the other side of the door. I stand there for a moment, silently hoping that he will offer to lay the clothes on the bed or something so that I can leave the bathroom in peace.

Negan's laugh comes a moment later. "Aw, being shy? That's adorable."

Er, not many girls are willing to flaunt around in a towel in front of a guy she just met that day...

"Well," he continues. "I'll just leave your clothes on your bed for you. Come out of your room when you're done so I can see how it looks, alright?"

I'm glad that he can't see the weirded-out expression I give him through the door. Why the heck does he want to see me in a new outfit? I don't even know him. Well, I suppose I can do that for him, if it really means that much. He did just save my life, so who I am to deny him of this one minor wish?

"A-Alright! Thank you!" I call through the door. I lean against the door and wait to hear him leave. My wet fingers pad along the wooden door impatiently. Finally, I hear the front door slam. I sigh with relief and crack the door open just a bit. My head goes through the crack and I glance around. There's no one in sight. I breathe a sigh of relief and go out into the room.

I find my new outfit laid neatly across the bed. The outfit consists of a red camisole and dark jean shorts that I admit are a little too short for my tastes. Like I said: beggars can't be choosers. It's a little embarrassing to see that he's also left some undergarments, but at least he's being practical. He also threw in a black jacket so I won't freeze. I shed my towel and quickly change into my new outfit.

My skin sings with pleasure at the new, soft material snuggled against it. I sigh with happiness and run my fingers along my new outfit. Suddenly, my door flies open and in comes Negan. I want to scream and ask what the heck is his problem and why he's bursting into a girl's room without even having the decency to knock, but I bite my tongue. I'm really trying not to offend him. Instead, I face him with a scowl.

Negan's whole face lights up when he sees me dressed in his outfit. "Ooh, aren't you just lovely to look at!" he coos while grinning at me from the doorway. "You probably had all of those guys in college chasin' your ankles, am I right?"

I feel my face heat up at the assumption. Instead of lying, I give a small heave of my shoulders and grin. "I wasn't really worried about boys," I tell him.

Negan's face falls. "Don't tell me… You're into chicks?"

My eyes feel like they're going to pop out of my skull. "No!" I cry adamantly. Seeing the distressed look on my face is enough to draw laughter out of Negan. I join him after a while. I rub at my arm, still chuckling. "No, that was not the reason why. I just wanted to focus on other things, like my classes. You boys are pretty overrated, in my opinion."

"Haha, some guy must have did a number on you, princess."

I cock my head to the side and have a good laugh at this. He's pretty much right on the target. I'm not about to admit to the fact that I've never had a boyfriend. I know that sort of stuff shouldn't matter right now, but for some reason, I still find myself not wanting to tell Negan this. Whenever I tell someone that, lo and behold, I've never had a real boyfriend in all of my twenty years, it's like I transform from a young woman into a big, diaper-clad baby in front of their eyes. I could be a magician, I tell you.

I expertly switch the subject with a smile. "Thank you for the clothes. For everything, really." I gesture around the room and shake my head. My hand drops back to my side. "This place really is perfect."

"Ain't it?" Negan agrees easily. "It doesn't get any better out there, college girl. Your family, if they aren't here, they probably didn't make it."

The smile on my face withers and dies. I pat around behind me like a blind person. My hand finds the soft cushioning of the bed and I plop down on it. I put my hand over my face as a sense of dread settles over me.

My family…. No…. No, no, no! They can't be gone. There's no way that they're gone. "They're not…dead," I spit out the word like it's a bad taste. "They probably made it to that safe place the police set up."

"Aw, sweetie…" Negan's voice is sympathetic. I hear his footsteps as he approaches me. A second later, a new weight is added to the bed. A thick arm goes over my shoulders and a hand pats my arm. I flinch at his touch but I don't move away. I swipe at my tears and look over to see Negan's face, blurred through my tears, staring down at me.

"Those kind of places were the first to go down. The idiots didn't check the people comin' in for bitemarks. They turned once they were inside and everything went downhill from there."

My heart just about freezes. My hand drops from my mouth to my frozen heart and I try to keep my tears from spilling over. I fail miserably. Tears start falling before I can stop them and the sobbing starts almost immediately after. Just thinking about my family becoming those things is enough to tear my heart in two.

Negan pulls his arm from around my shoulders and rubs at the back of his head. "Aw, don't start cryin', kid. I didn't want to make you cry. Come on."

"Is it really that bad in the cities?" I manage to ask between sobbing. "Is everyone…?"

Negan gives a shrug. "Dunno. Hey, you were alive out there, weren't ya? That counts for something, seeing as you're just a scrawny college brat. Maybe you're family is still alive."

A laugh somehow finds its way out of my sob-ridden throat. I continue laughing until most of the tears have fallen out of my eyes and stain my cheeks instead.

I manage a smile. "Thanks," I say while swiping more of my wet hair behind my ear. I'm not even sure what I'm thanking him for—the laugh or for giving me a little more hope. Realizing that my face is now covered in snot and tears, I turn away from him in embarrassment and try my best to clean up my face without a tissue.

"Ugh," I groan. "I probably look like a troll right now."

"Here."

I turn to find Negan holding out a handkerchief to me. I smile and go to take it, but he lifts it out of my reach. My eyes go from the handkerchief, to his playful smile, and then back again. I quirk one eyebrow. I seriously hope he doesn't expect me to try and leap for it. We're not in middle school.

Instead, Negan takes the handkerchief and begins wiping up my face with it. He coos at me the entire time, like he's talking to a baby or a precious pet. What'd I say? I turned into a big baby. All I can do is sit there and shut my eyes as he rubs my face down. This is a new level of awkwardness. I barely know this guy and here he is, wiping snot from my face.

Finally, the pain ends. Negan lowers the handkerchief. His free hand finds my chin and he tilts it around.

"Hmmm… Hm, hm, hmmm…" he mutters like a demented scientist examining his patient. There's a slight twitch in his left eye that I haven't been able to catch before because I wasn't this close to him. His nose is only a few inches from my own. I can feel his hot breath against the delicate skin of my face. I'm trying my hardest to meet his eyes, but I'm too shy.

"There," he says. His lips twist into a mysterious smirk. "Don't you clean up nicely."

I stare up at him, too afraid to pull my chin from his grip. Suddenly, he leans down and plants a wet kiss on my forehead. I jump back from him, startled. My hand finds my forehead, feeling the moist spot he left in the center of it. I look up at him, expecting a rational explanation for this stranger to put his lips on me.

All he has to offer is a wink.

"Welcome to Sanctuary, Bree."

Merle: Gal, there better be a good reason why I ain't in this story yet.
Cerulean: Ohohoho, there is! ^_^; You'll show up in another couple of chapters, I promise!
Merle: Good. This ain't a story without Merle Dixon in it, darling.
Cerulean: Oh gosh. Well readers, hope you enjoyed Bree's introduction to Sanctuary! I'll see you again with a new chapter soon! :)