I was upstairs with Judith when I heard it. A gunshot rang out and I glanced down at my little sister to see if it would wake her. She didn't even twitch. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
How could a shot ring out? Negan had taken all of Alexandria's weapons. There weren't any left. Which meant that one of his people, the Saviors who I tried to ignore being around him constantly, unless we were in his apartment had shot off a round. But why? I said my own version of a prayer. Please, don't let Dad have done something stupid. Please, let him and the others not have made things worse. Please, don't let my deal with Negan be made in vain.
I didn't leave Judith's room. Not until I heard another shot ring out. And again, my baby sister didn't even make a tiny move in her sleep. That's two shots. That's two times that death may have visited my dad's people. And that's two times too many for me to ignore.
I walked slowly downstairs. I didn't want to face whatever was outside. I didn't want to walk outside and see the people that trusted my dad to keep them safe have suffered more loss because they couldn't just go along with the damn program. Was it Dad's goal to make me regret what I'd done by showing me how little they cared that I'd done it?
When my feet hit the porch, I see Olivia's body. Carl's kneeling over it, and he glances up at me. What the hell happened? Moving past my little brother, and the dead body of my replacement, I see Negan and Dad facing off in the street. Rosita is prone on the ground. Spencer Monroe is laying in a puddle of blood and guts. And Negan is wearing blood like a badge on his chin and shirt.
How long had I been wrapped up in watching Judith sleep?
I hear Dad telling Negan that "your shit is waiting at the gate" and for him to leave. He doesn't know I'm with him, I think, but I'm not sure it would matter to Dad if I was. Anger is rolling off him in waves, and Daryl is standing tense at his side. Aaron, looking as though he'd lost a fight with the heavyweight champion is leaning on Eric's side. I'm trying to make sense of the scene, part of me BEGGING for the return of my self imposed blankness. Anything so I don't have to see THIS.
Negan's saying that we'll happily leave, once he finds out who made the bullet. What? Someone made ammo? I glance around the group and I know who it had to have been when my eyes land on his mullet. Damn it, Eugene. It takes Negan threatening to kill another person, using the fierce woman named Arat as his weapon, for Eugene to admit it. Right after Tara tries to take credit.
These people. These fucking people could give a shit about what I'd tried to do when I traded places with Glenn. Every single one of them would keep fucking trying. Trying to get one step ahead of Negan. Get the big win in a war that should have ended with the death of Abraham and me taking Glenn's place. And they had the fucking audacity to look at me like I'd fucking chose the enemy.
I walked off the porch and Negan caught my movement from the corner of his eye as he's discussing something with Eugene. "Come on, Jessi," he beckoned. "Rick, I'm going to be relieving you of your bullet maker and whatever you left for me at the front gate." He tells Dad that no matter how much they find, how much they put together it won't be enough. Dad and Alexandria's debt has grown to be so fucking big after what's happened today.
And then, as fast as it seemed to happen, we were leaving. I didn't notice if Dad or Daryl or any of the rest of them were looking at me. I didn't care. These people, my own family, were making every fucking thing worse. And I'd bargained my life to save Glenn. I'd bargained my chance to keep Judith safe and innocent on the CHANCE that Dad would get it. That he'd understand. That Daryl was wrong. It wasn't about who had it all. It was about surviving and living without a fucking blade hanging overhead, waiting for one wrong move to drop.
I realized, as I sat in the passenger side of the cargo truck, Eugene between Negan and I, that this was the first time I'd left Alexandria without saying goodbye to THEM. Because my first trip with Negan, I'd made eye contact and acknowledged Dad and Carl. But this time? I didn't look back once.
We return to the Sanctuary without fanfare. Aside from the surreal kneeling and having Dr. Mullet, PhD, along this time. A blonde female Savior named Laura takes charge of Eugene's tour, and I'm left with Negan. Before we can go inside, he's told that Fat Joey is dead. That Dwight and Sherry are gone. I wonder if he took Daryl's. I wonder what would make them leave. And I get it. They were together. And now they were wanted.
A man with an impressive mustache, if facial hair can be considered impressive, named Simon is given the task of leading the hunt for the duo. And as we're standing outside, Eugene is brought out, clutching a jar of pickles for some fucking reason. I listen as Negan asks him questions about his brilliance, about his abilities, and Eugene does what Eugene always does. He lies about his credentials. He talks about all those fucking faux PhDs and I wonder if he's forgotten I'm standing beside Negan? Perhaps I've become so adept at being his shadow that I've literally disappeared. Another twist I didn't see coming.
Negan shows Dr. Smarty Pants, his nickname for Eugene not mine, the walker security and asks how they could postpone decomposition. It's a test. And Eugene passes by telling him that if they pour metal over their heads or some other nonsensical bullshit that I don't really care to listen to. Negan's so fucking impressed, I hear him gift Dr. Mullet the company of some of his harem. Well, isn't that just amazing. They're his sister-wives and they're his fucking brothel workers.
I'm with Negan, in his apartment when the first salvo of trouble turns up. A letter found in the desk of the resident doctor. Seemingly showing that the poor man helped the couple escape. I closed my eyes, had it only been the day before that I stood beside Carl and witnessed Dwight help Negan punish another man? And now, not forty-eight hours later, I get to witness another fucking punishment.
Eugene is summoned for the spectacle and looks as twitchy as he ever has.
This time it's worse than before. So much worse. I can't look away as Negan explains the doctor's crimes. I can't turn my head when he taps him on the shoulder with Lucille. I can't look away when, instead of the iron, he throws the doctor face first into the fire.
The buzzing in my ears is there. The smell of burning flesh once again heavy in the air. When Negan's eyes find me, I'm not sure what he sees, but the mocking smile is gone. He nods to someone, and then there are arms around me. And I'm taken back to his apartment alone.
When Negan finds me, I'm curled up on his bed. The blankets wrapped tight around me, my jeans on the floor beside my boots. I can hear him open the door. I hear him take off his jacket. I hear him go to the bathroom. I feel the dip of his weight on the side of the bed I'm curled on. His fingers brush my hair out of my face, and he sees my eyes wide open.
"I thought you might be resting again." His voice is quiet, like when talking to a frightened animal. His fingers are tracing my cheek and he sighs. "Shit, Jessi, this has been a fucking roller-coaster of a couple of days, hasn't it?"
I don't answer. I just look up at him, waiting for him to get to the damn point.
He shakes his head. "Am I being unreasonable with your people?" The question shocks me. Why would he ask my opinion? "I don't think I am. I think I'm being a fucking benevolent guy." His fingers have stilled on my chin. "When you-" He bites his bottom lip. "You gave up your life for one of them." He was studying me again. "You were willing to die for them." He huffs out a sigh. "What a way to repay it."
I swallow down the hurt I feel at his reminder. He was right, about some of it. Hadn't I thought the exact same thing? "I have no idea what your agreement with Dad entails. I don't know about the supply expectations or whatever you two decided on." I let myself get comfortable on the pillow. "And I don't care. A deal is a deal, and if it's agreed on, regardless of the pressure involved, then it should be adhered to." I sounded like a fucking lawyer. "I made my deal with you. And I'll fulfill it."
It was all I could offer. I didn't want to think about Dad and Daryl's next moves. Because as sure as the sun rises each morning, they had one.
