Summary: Sunny and Negan deal with the aftermath of the war. Warnings- Angst. So much.
Notes: I would be sorry for all the feels but I'm not. I promise it's going to be okay. And to make matters better, I already have the last chapter done and will post it next Saturday. Thanks to everyone who has stuck through this and read along.
Sunny stared at the boxes before her. Taking the red marker in her hand, she crossed off another day on the calendar. Today would mark two months since she had returned home. Two months since she had seen Negan.
At first, she and Sherry tried their best to soldier on. To keep their hopes high, focusing on their chores during the day and watching movies at night. But with each day without any news that passed, the slumber party mood in the house soured, overshadowed with doubts and fears.
Sunny climbed the stairs and walked out onto the porch where she often found Sherry. She had run out of cigarettes a few days ago but still sat outside every time she felt anxious or stressed. Sitting in a rocking chair they had dragged out of the house, Sherry stared at the dirt driveway that led to the road. Her back and forth motions were steady, creaking wood keeping time in their little world where time meant nothing.
Sherry's gaze turned to Sunny. A weak smile turned the corners of her lips but didn't reach her eyes. "Is it dinner time already?" she asked.
"No, not yet." Sunny didn't know how to address the elephant in the room. She decided directness was her best bet. "It's been two months."
The rocking stopped. Sherry nodded, her eyes back on the road. "I know." She pulled her legs up on the chair, hugging her knees to her chest, her bare feet curling over the edge of the wooden seat.
"Do you think it's over yet? Do you think we won?" Sunny asked. She wasn't sure if she wanted the answers.
"Honey, if it's over and we won, you know he would have been here in a heartbeat. Something went wrong. How wrong I don't know. But I know Negan, and he wouldn't just let you sit here waiting for nothing."
Tears threatened to build, but Sunny swallowed them down. They had never voiced these thoughts out loud before, but they had both been thinking it for a few weeks now. She knew Sherry was right. If things had gone their way, she would be back at The Sanctuary right next to Negan. Instead, she was here.
"What should we do? Should we go see what happened?" Sunny leaned against a post, her hands rubbing her belly. It was still weird that it sometimes pushed back. The baby was so active, rolling and kicking. It was bizarre to look down and see her entire stomach shift with the movements within. Negan was missing it. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to think of anything else.
"We won't be doing anything," Sherry said, providing a much-needed distraction.
Sunny couldn't believe what she was hearing. She thought for sure Sherry would want to know what happened. She had talked about Dwight enough in the last two months for Sunny to know that there were still deep-rooted feelings there. How could she not want to know what had happened to him? Where he was? How could she not want to find him? "We can't just sit here and wait forever."
"No, we can't. But you can." Sherry's aura shifted. Her mind seemingly made up as she stood tall, determination creasing her brow. "I'm going to go. You are in no condition to be out there. And Negan would kill me if anything happened to you."
"You can't leave me here. Alone." Panic rushed through Sunny's body, her heart rate raising as she contemplated what Sherry was saying.
"I don't have a choice. You're right. We need to know. But you're in no shape to travel. I can drive out there and back in a day. I can run, shoot, and protect myself. You are a sitting duck right now. I can't protect you and the baby."
Sunny hated that she was right. Hated being so useless. "You'll go and come right back?" Sunny asked.
"Of course, I would never abandon you. Whatever I find. I'll come back." Sherry stepped towards Sunny, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, rubbing her back.
Sunny leaned her head on her shoulder savoring the contact. They had grown so close in the last two months. Honestly, it felt like having a sister again. But despite her assurance, Sunny could only think about how Rain promised to come back, so did her parents, and so did Negan. Where were they all now?
The next morning, Sherry had a pistol, two knives, and a small cache of bullets loaded into the car she arrived in. They had taken pains to start her car and Sunny's car every week to keep it running. Hopefully, that had done its job and she would make it there and back.
It took all of Sunny's strength to keep going. To keep busy. She didn't know what was worse. Not knowing the fate of those she loved. Or knowing.
She could pretend her sister was somewhere in the world. Happy. Safe. living. She could pretend her parents were just lost and making their way back home someday. She could even pretend that Negan was busy making their home perfect for her return and the baby's arrival.
But knowing that they were dead. That the worst had happened. That was something she didn't think she could handle. She didn't want to. Denial was so much easier.
She paced the front porch, the boards creaking underfoot, as the sun dipped beneath the trees and distant hills, the horizon burning red as a blanket of darkness stretched over the sky. She maintained her silent vigil as stars dappled the heavens and the sounds of the birds and breeze were replaced by cicadas and rustling groans she hoped were branches swaying in the wind.
She dozed in the rocking chair for minutes at a time until light graced the clouds, painting everything with pastel strokes. Dew hung in the air, misting her vision. Or was that the tears?
Sherry had promised she would be back the same day. She'd promised. But so had Negan.
Sunny was alone. Again. But this time she wouldn't just sit and wait. She wouldn't accept this fate once more.
A few hours later, Sunny slowly maneuvered her old dusty car down the street as The Sanctuary came into view. She didn't have to get close, and wouldn't want to with the fences down, to see that something was terribly wrong. The sun that usually reflected off the windows only highlighted the shattered remains of glass that clung to the frames. Leaving the building a derelict monument in the skyline.
There were no signs of actual life. No guards with rifles. Even the corpses that once worked the wall were mere puddles of writhing body parts. Beyond the chain link, the silhouettes of shuffling masses told Sunny all she really needed to know. What she had feared all along. They had lost.
Her chest clenched, air refusing to fill her lungs as she struggled to turn around. Surely, Sherry would have seen the state of it and just come home. Where was she? Had she been stupid enough to look for survivors? Had she never made it this far? Did she decide to go after Dwight?
Her mind ran circles through all the unknowns that ate at her. Was Negan back there? His hazel eyes clouded over. His once imposing figure hunched over as his dead body lurched without purpose, leather jacket hanging off his frame. Don't think about it. She wiped her tears, fingers gripping the steering wheel as she changed direction.
Sunny had planned for this. She knew deep down that something terrible had happened. She needed help though. And she didn't want to be left alone. There was only one place she knew to go. Hopefully, she could persuade them to listen to her and take pity on her.
She had to pull over twice on her way to Alexandria, the tears too thick to see through. Each time she thought she was done, thought she couldn't possibly have more to shed, her vision would blur.
She arrived at the gates, hoping her red swollen eyes didn't convey disease. The last thing she needed was for them to think she was infected. Sad and pathetic, for sure, but she was healthy nonetheless.
The guards shouted as expected. She exited the car with difficulty, maneuvering her belly behind the steering wheel. She raised her hands as she shuffled off the seat and stood.
"I'm not armed!" Sunny shouted.
"Stay where you are," one of the guards shouted atop the scaffolding as they stared down their scopes at her.
She froze, adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was too late to consider whether or not this was, indeed, a bad idea. Last resorts often were. But desperation was all she had.
The rusty reinforced gates screeched open slowly. Rick, flocked by his people, walked out.
"I remember you," he said in his southern drawl, looking every bit the cowboy in his hat. He looked her over, his eyes stopping on her middle, brows furrowing. "Is it his?" he sneered.
Her lip trembled as she nodded, lowering her arms and wrapping them protectively around herself.
"Did you come here looking for him?" Rick asked. The people behind him joined him in glaring at her. The disgust they collectively felt was clear.
"No. I've come to make a deal." She turned and opened the back door, ignoring the clicks she heard as everyone raised their guns. Reaching inside she pulled out a small bottle. She cautiously waddled towards Rick, handing him the orange plastic container filled with pills. "It's antibiotics. I have more."
Rick's mouth opened then closed. He cleared his throat. "How much more?"
"I have a small pharmacy's worth of medications and drugs. Not to mention chickens. Freezers of food. Garden. Toilet paper."
He stared at the pills then raised his eyes to her. "Where?" he demanded.
"Someplace only I know the location of. I'd be willing to take someone back with me. There are lots of farms and equipment that could be salvaged where I live. It would be good land for people to work."
"Why should we trust you?" the gray-haired woman behind Rick asked.
"Yeah, why don't you hunt down Saviors and ask them for help?" a man wearing a vest she recognized from her first encounter asked. She struggled to remember his name. Daryl? That sounded right.
A group had gathered outside the gate. All of them holding weapons. Staring at her. A woman with umber skin and long dark locs held back with a headband stepped forwards next to Rick, a katana in her fist.
Sunny thought of the Saviors. She had been kept separate from most of them and with probable good reason. "I don't know them-"
"You don't know us either," Rick countered.
He had a point. Sunny didn't know them. But she knew from her last experience that they had the capacity for empathy and kindness, probably more so than Negan would have for a stranger. "You were kind to me when I ran away before. I was hoping you would be again. If I'm wrong, I'll go. I have chickens that need feeding anyways." She turned to leave, hoping someone would stop her.
Gripping the bottle in his fist, Rick muttered, "Wait."
Sunny stopped, her hands resting on the door handle of her small coupe.
Daryl stepped towards him. "What're you doing? We don't need her. Let her leave."
"She has medicine and food. We may not need her, but we do need those." Rick countered. "What do you think, Michonne?" He turned to the woman with the sword next to him.
"Ask her what she wants in return," Michonne responded. She stared at Sunny, her expression hard to read.
"What's in it for you? What are you hoping to get out of all this?" Rick asked. His hands rested high on his hips over the belt where his holsters hung.
Sunny took a deep breath. "I can't do this by myself. I don't want to give birth alone. Or be alone." She was waiting to be laughed at. Waiting to be run off. But that didn't happen.
The woman with the short gray hair stepped forward. "I'll go with her. If she has all she says she has, then we'll make a trade, and I'll stay with her until the baby is born."
Daryl growled. "The hell you will. You really believe she would have all that? That Negan wouldn't have taken it all for himself? For all we know, this is some sort of trap."
Hearing his name, made her stomach flip. They hated him. And probably her too by extension. She understood nothing she said would convince them otherwise. Her hackles were raised by the grungy man passing judgment on her without knowing a thing about her as if he were any better.
"Well, I'm not really in the position to be making enemies. For that matter, how would I be able to overpower anyone? I can't even tie my own shoes anymore." She motioned to herself. "I can't make you trust me. You either come or you don't. But if you don't and I die giving birth, you'll miss out on a lot of hard-to-find things." She set her eyes on Daryl. "Like shampoo. Deodorant…"
Rick's mouth quirked at the corners before he regained his composure. He held up his hand, to keep Daryl back. "Fine. Carol will go with you. If you have everything you say you do, we can work something out."
"But don't think that means we trust you or that." Daryl pointed at your stomach with the end of his rifle as he spoke.
Sunny nodded. She wasn't stupid enough to think any of them would be too pleased about her presence knowing who she was and who she had been with. All she needed was someone to get her through childbirth. Some sort of alliance for the future no matter how tenuous it may be was necessary for their survival.
In time, they would see that she could be trusted and valuable. And time was all she had at the moment.
Negan stared at the bars next to him as he sat on the dusty floor that marked the end of his world. He was once king of his domain and now he had only enough room to take three strides forward. By the angle of the sun, shining through the boarded-up window to his basement, he knew he should be getting a tray of food soon.
Those bastards wouldn't let him die. They were determined to make him watch them thrive and survive in spite of him. To drive him mad thinking of how much they accomplished without him or the Saviors. What they didn't know was how little they actually meant to him.
All he cared about was her.
He hadn't been able to keep track of the exact days after the battle and being near death at the hands of Rick. But he knew it had been about 2 or 3 months. Sunny should be getting close to giving birth soon.
He was going to miss it. He'd never meet his child. He promised Sunny he'd return and of all the horrible things he'd done in his life, that was his one regret.
Thank god, Sherry was there. It was his one comfort.
The door swung open, Negan rolled his eyes when he saw who was standing at the threshold. Fucking Spencer. Little prick never missed a chance to preen like he was cock-of-the-walk. He wouldn't be so high and mighty if there wasn't iron between them.
Spencer dropped the tray to the floor in front of the jail cell. "Eat up, asshole."
"Fuck off, pencil dick," he quipped back.
The smirk on Spencer's face turned positively sinister. Negan knew better than to antagonize this piece of shit. The last time his temper had gotten the better of him, his food had ended up on the floor, taunting him through the bars just out of reach. At least when Rick showed up, he was rewarded with a meal for suffering through his endless monologues of their daily successes.
The young man leaned against the wall, looking down at Negan. "Now now, Negan. If you aren't a good boy, I won't tell you all about your little bitch that showed up at our gates today."
His heart froze. Sunny. Here? Why the hell would she be here? Sherry promised she would keep her safe. Was she alright? Was the baby born? Did she know he was here? Was she trying to make a deal, negotiate his release?
Negan's brain flicked through every question imaginable with the speed of a teen channel surfing. If he played this wrong, he wouldn't learn anything about Sunny. "You'll have to be more specific. Which bitch?"
"Young, cute. Dark hair."
"Son, I had 6 wives. You've just described half of them." He reached for his food. The water had spilled creating a soft corner of his sandwich. He ripped the soggy part off and bit into the tomato and lettuce sandwich. Damn, he missed turkey and bacon. Even mayonnaise.
"This is the little runaway that ended up here. You took her back with you. Should've known you'd lose the entire Sanctuary when you couldn't even keep one tiny woman in line."
"Oh, that one." He forced himself to sound bored as if ennui dripped from his every pore. "How was my darling wife?"
"Well, she was practically begging Rick for help. Too bad he was there. If I had guard duty I would have been much more aggressive in negotiations."
If that fucking little weasel touched one hair on her head, he would rip off his dick and shove it down his throat. "What was she negotiating for?" He focused his eyes on his food. It felt like sawdust in his throat as his anxiety dried his mouth.
"Well not you if that's what you're wondering. She didn't mention you once. Probably glad to be rid of you. She didn't want to be alone. Said she had things she was willing to trade. Medicine and food. Probably embezzling from you all along. How does it feel to know she doesn't give two shits about you? That she isn't going to do a fucking thing to help you?"
"You think I give a shit? She's doing what she's always done. Making deals to take care of herself. Can't really fucking hold that against her." Mention the baby. He repeated in his mind. Don't make me ask.
Spencer kicked off the wall standing straight up. "Well if you're not interested, I guess I'll just leave." He strode to the door. His hand reached for the knob.
"Wait. What about the baby?" He regretted it as soon as his mouth opened and he saw the triumph play across the sadistic son-of-a-bitch's face.
"What baby?" he asked. The smirk on his face grew to a smile. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he left without further delay.
Negan threw the last few bites of his sandwich back on the tray. He crawled to his cot and pulled himself up. Burying his face in his thin pillow, he hid the tears that soaked through his bedding. He cried. More than he had in years.
For the loss of his home. His wife. His baby. And for knowing he deserved it all.
Carol had only needed a few minutes to pack a bag, but Denise and Tara convinced Rick to let them check Sunny's health while she waited. They wanted the practice they said. Although they didn't have a sonogram, they were able to find the baby's heartbeat. A strong healthy flutter that wooshed through the tiny speaker.
Maggie and Michonne and forced them to eat before leaving. And Sunny hesitantly complied. She didn't want to take food out of their people's mouths so she gave them the bag of pecans and box protein bars she had in her car. She wouldn't let anyone accuse her of not pulling her weight.
When all was said and done, the two women left in separate vehicles so Carol could leave of her own free will if needed.
As Carol pulled into the driveway, she looked skeptically at the house as she made her way to the porch with her bag in hand. Her skepticism was replaced with awe as Sunny showed her the rest of the bunker, answering all the questions of why and how when she saw the extent of their hoard.
After finishing the tour, Sunny sat on the couch grateful to have a chance to put her swollen feet up. "So, do we have a deal? You'll stay here and help me?"
Carol nodded, joining her in the small living room. She fiddled with the crocheted blanket thrown over the back of the couch. "I don't understand though."
"What?" Sunny expected people to have questions about her parents and their unconventional ways. She had learned at an early age that everyone had an opinion on how they did things.
"How did someone like you end up with a monster like Negan?" the older woman asked.
That Sunny wasn't expecting. Not yet anyway. She was hoping to have time to get to know people before they pried into her recent past. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip, chewing the chapped skin. How did she answer this? How could she make someone who would only believe the worst about him understand that he was so different in private?
"Look, I know it can be difficult to talk about abusive husbands. I was with mine for years. He was so kind and collected in front of others. No one would have believed me if I had said anything or asked for help. No one ever knew what a monster he was. But we all knew Negan, we'd believe you if you said you were forced."
"That's the difference though. He wasn't a monster. Not to me. The world made Negan who he was to survive. Only I got to see the real him. The part of him that loved me. He worshipped the ground I walked on. Would have done anything for me."
"Then why did you run away?" Carol asked. "I remember you showing up at our gates covered in walker guts looking half dead yourself. If things were so great, why did you leave?"
God, this was going to sound so stupid. "I left because Negan cared too much. He put me up in this beautiful penthouse suite. He gave me everything I could have ever wanted before the end of the world. But I was raised to work. To contribute. The one thing Negan wouldn't give me was a job. He wanted to protect me. And to him, that meant having me laying around eating bonbons while everyone else worked. I couldn't do that. I wanted to help.
"Say what you want about him. He did bad things to survive. Horrific things I'm sure. But it was to protect the people around him," Sunny said.
Carol shook her head. "Your husband was a monster out of cruelty. He enjoyed killing people. Toyed with them. If you think it was out of necessity, then you are just as bad as he is."
Sunny studied Carol, trying not to let the woman's words get the better of her. She remembered something Negan once told her. "So, you're saying you've never killed anyone to protect your people? Never murdered people in their sleep?
"A wolf in sheep's clothing is worse than a whole pack of wolves. At least you know what to expect from a wolf. Your group presents themselves as morally righteous compared to the Saviors. But you're all just the same. No one in this world will leave it innocent.
"Why did you come here, Carol? If you feel that way about me?" Sunny asked.
Carol's fingers flexed into her thighs. "You're right. I've done things I'm not proud of. Things I want to get away from. I need some time to think. To process. To repent. What better way to make up for all the lives I've taken than to help bring a new life into the world?"
"Even if it's the baby of a monster?" Would her child have to deal with this stigma their entire life?
"Your baby had no choice in who its father was. I won't hold that against them. Or you. Although I do question your choice in men. I will grant that pickings were slim especially if you were hidden away here for two years. But seriously, Sunny…"
Sunny smiled. She would never be able to talk about Negan with any sort of affection with anyone from Alexandria. He would stay locked away in her heart until their child was old enough to hear about him from her.
She sighed. "Look, I know you don't understand and probably never will. I'm guessing you don't even like me all that much. But I appreciate you coming here and not killing me and taking all my stuff."
Carol shrugged. "I thought about it."
"But you didn't do it and that's a start. Now I'm starving. What do you say we raid the freezers and grill us some hamburgers? I've got some buns I made the other day. We have ketchup, mustard, mayo, tomato, lettuce, pickles, and even some cheese. French fries too...or are you a tater tot woman?" She rose and headed towards the kitchen.
Carol watched her shrewdly. Her lips curving into a grin. "Why not both?"
The next few weeks were a flurry of change and preparation. When Carol left to report back to Rick, she brought back Aaron and Eric. The upstairs was cleaned and restored to the best of their abilities. The electricity was reconnected which was a blessing when the air conditioner kicked on and the stale air was refreshed with cool blasts through the vents.
Refugees from Hilltop, The Kingdom, and even Alexandria moved out to the neighboring farms. They were fixing fences, clearing land, getting it ready for planting. Everyone was working tirelessly to build a farming community that could provide enough food for everyone.
No one had been mean to Sunny but she could feel looks and hear the whispers when she met new people. They all knew of her before she could even introduce herself. Was being infamous better than being alone? She wasn't quite sure but it was something. And something was often better than nothing.
She wiped the dust off her hands as she opened another box from the attic in the house. Her mother, bless her heart, had saved her daughters' baby things with loving care. Holding up a tiny outfit her mother had sewn, painstakingly picking out adorable strawberry buttons to adorn it, Sunny sniffed back the tears that seemed to never be too far away. Stupid hormones.
Day to day, she thought of her father and everything he taught her to survive. Skills she never thought she would actually need, had proven to be the key to her survival in a world they never could have predicted. But the closer she got to having this baby, the more she thought of her mother. The patience and kindness and love she had instilled in her. As much as her dad tried to toughen them up, their mother was always there to teach them that softness was also important. Sunny longed for that patience and love right more than ever.
Love. What she really needed was love. Unconditional love. She needed Negan. But he would never know his baby.
Sunny never asked about him. If he was alive, he would have come for her by now, and she didn't want to know how he died. Asking for details and the fallout of her reaction would do nothing but remind everyone that her loyalties were not as clear as theirs. She needed them far more than they needed her. She could not forget that.
Aaron walked in with an armload of fresh linens. The crib was finished and set against the wall in her bedroom. He started making the baby's bed, chattering at Sunny but she didn't hear a word he said as she focused on her breathing and unpacking the last of the baby clothes, not a moment too soon.
She'd been having what she thought was Braxton Hicks all day. But these pains were growing in intensity and the minutes between them dwindling.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, pausing as he spread a teddy bear comforter over the mattress.
Sunny grimaced and nodded.
Horror etched his face and realization struck. "Oh god. No, you're not. Where's Carol? Why isn't she here? Are you in labor? You're in labor."
As the pain subsided, Sunny looked at the panic-stricken man. With all the carnage he'd seen, this is what sent him into a frenzy? "My contractions are still a few minutes apart. I didn't want to freak everyone out. I think Carol's feeding the chickens. She'll be back soon. Everything's fine."
The poor man stood in place, his eyes wide, watching her every move. There was no mistaking his indecision and discomfort.
"If you need something to do, you could go find Carol. I'll be fine," she lied as another contraction slowly built. Her muscles in her stomach and lower back tightening until her face screwed up and she forced herself to exhale.
"Do you need anything else?" he asked as he crossed the room.
"No," she grunted. "Not unless you have an epidural handy because this already sucks."
Negan was ripped from his dreams. His brow was covered in a cold sweat as fear gripped his heart. His hands wrapped around his neck.
He had been dreaming. Kneeling on a hill. Rick towering over him.
He remembered the feeling of defeat. Of knowing he had failed Sunny. Failed everyone. He woke as he always did just as the knife began to slice his throat. What should have killed him, only incapacitated him enough for them to set him up for life in this small hell hole.
He struggled to even his breathing, willing his heart to slow. He closed his eyes and thought of her. Always of her.
His escapes always featured the two of them. Watching movies. Cooking dinner. All the domestic bullshit he always overlooked. But now his daydreams included a third. Sometimes a girl. Sometimes a boy. Rocking them to sleep. Spaghetti smeared on every surface. Baths that ended with most of the water outside of the tub. Everything his friends and colleagues talked about but he never saw the draw. Who would want a tiny human who did nothing but cry, shit, and make a mess?
He did. But now like everything else good it was just a dream.
Several hours, a lot of cussing and pain later, Sunny held her baby girl in her arms. She was perfect. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Tiny cupid's bow on top of her pouting lips. And two dimples in her cheeks. Just like him.
Tears rained down on the blanket that swaddled the pink-faced infant as she slept. Unaware of what would be missing from her life. Of who would be missing from her life.
She kissed the smooth brow of her daughter. "You're daddy would have loved you."
Notes: How are we feeling people? Are we ready for the end of this story? Did we ever think we'd finally get here? Next Saturday, I will be posting the last chapter. It's for real already written. Crazy, right?