The Sound and the Fury

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Walking Dead or any related titles, characters, plots, settings, etc. These rights are the sole property of Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore, AMC, and various publishers and distributors. I own only the original elements in this story, the writing and publishing of which earn me no money.

Chapter Four

Collins had been determined to sleep late on her surprise day off, but her body woke her up at promptly six in the morning. All attempts at falling asleep once more failed, and it was only a little past seven when she finally rose and donned a tee shirt and her heavily patched jeans. For lack of anything to do, she wandered into the marketplace. Soon enough, she had located the artisans' stall and found Jason weaving a pair of the loose pants he had specialized in making at the camp. Behind him, Soph lifted a hand in silent greeting before returning her attention to sanding a fresh container. The top edge had to be a precise thickness before she coated the lip and the inner lid with wax to create the seal.

"Collins! What are you doing here?" Jason asked, finally catching sight of her.

I got a day off. You look busy; I can leave?

"No, don't worry about it. I already finished off two pairs of gloves and bundled up my socks for sale. This is a side project." He studied her with a critical eye. "Is everything okay? How did you get a day off? Forgive me, but I didn't think you earned enough points to lose an entire day's worth."

Collins shrugged. Negan told me not to report to work today. I'll figure something out with the points.

"I'll get you anything you need," Jason offered and Collins glared. "What? You can pay me back whenever. I know you're good for it. Besides, it's the least I can do if you'll stay here and keep me company. Soph is a bear when she's carving. It's hard work just being around her."

"Like you would know anything about hard work, you insolent man-child," Soph shot back without pausing in her sanding. Collins fought not to smile; Soph had not turned around for her to 'read lips', so she had to pretend not to know what was happening.

Jason explained, "She says I'm right and apologized for not fully appreciating the gift of my company."

Soph straightened at that, turning to shake her head at Collins, accompanying the motion with a roll of her eyes.

I doubt it, Collins signed back, pasting on her most skeptical expression.

"Well, she did," Jason said, pretending to fix a seam on the pants. "Anyway, don't you have anywhere more fun to be on your day off?"

Not really. I don't know what to do with free time anymore.

"Fair enough," he admitted. "Not like you can just kick back and watch tv."

Don't remind me.

"What would you watch right now if you could watch anything?"

Maybe The Twilight Zone.

"What? Get out of here. That's such a boring choice!" Collins quirked an eyebrow at Jason, silently returning his question. "Any television show? Probably Scrubs."

"You're such a nerd, Jace," Soph taunted, coming to the table where Jason sat to retrieve a large chunk of what appeared to be raw beeswax.

Jason scoffed. "You should hear Collins's choice! The Twilight Zone."

"Okay, that is pretty bad," Soph admitted. "The right choice is The Sopranos, obviously."

"It had some good parts, if you're into that kind of stuff," a new voice cut in. "I'm more of a The Office kind of guy, myself."

Jason stood and Soph put down the beeswax as they all prepared to kneel, but Negan waved his hand. "Don't. I'm not on official business right now."

That, at least, seemed to be true. Instead of his 'intimidation' outfit - leather jacket and bright red scarf - or his 'Sanctuary business' outfit - usually a simple long-sleeved shirt made ratty from working on various things - the Saviors' leader wore a white tee shirt with jeans and boots. Negan still looked intimidating, but more due to his stature and the force of his personality than his clothing.

He likes The Office, Jason signed to Collins, who belatedly realized she had been facing the opposite direction when Negan had spoken.

She grimaced, then grinned. I was never a big fan, myself.

I guess you wouldn't be, if your choice for an apocalypse tv show would be The Twilight Zone.

Collins playfully pretended she was going to punch him and Jason mock-cowered behind Soph's shoulder as she rolled her eyes.

Negan watched the interaction with a searching expression. Finally, he pointed between Jason and Collins. "You two fuckin'?"

Gaping, Collins shook her head and Jason sputtered a sloppy denial. Soph picked up her beeswax cube and said nonchalantly, "No, but we are," adding a gesture between herself and Jason for clarity.

Negan belted out a laugh at that revelation. "Robbing the cradle a bit, aren't ya?"

Soph shrugged. "I like 'em old enough to understand my genius and young enough to be impressed by it."

If possible, Negan laughed louder. "I knew I liked you for a fucking reason, Soph!" He turned to look down at Collins. "So why are you using the day off I gave you - with pay, mind you - to hang out in the marketplace?"

"She said she didn't have anywhere else to be," Jason answered for her. "Said she doesn't really know what to do with free time anymore."

"That so?" Negan asked, eyeing her with an odd smile.

Inspiration struck. If she played this right, Collins could use the day to do some additional scouting around the Sanctuary. Will you ask him if I can just walk around and explore?

Jason passed the question along and Negan's smile turned to a frown. "Listen, I wouldn't mind, but we have some people here who… well, I wouldn't trust them with anything other than what they're doing now. It might make you a target."

Well, that wasn't fair. Collins couldn't argue on her own behalf without admitting that she knew how to fight, at least a little. What about just outside, then?

Negan sighed, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. "I guess you could, just be careful. If you get into trouble… Can you still speak, or is that gone, too?"

Ah, the question she had hoped no one would ask. I can still speak, I think, she signed. Enough to make some noise if I get into trouble.

"Fine. At least let me escort you out there. Maybe no one will mess with you, then."

The last sentence was spoken away from her and Collins pretended not to know he had said anything at all. As she turned away, Jason waved to catch her attention and handed her the pair of pants he had been working on.

I had to guess your size, but I noticed that your jeans are in pretty bad shape.

Collins clutched the garment to her chest, fumbling to sign, You made these for me?

I started them right after we got here. Sorry they took so long, but I was swamped with orders. If they don't fit right, tell me what's wrong and we'll fix them, okay? I'm also sorry the bottom hems look like shit. Soph insisted on helping and sewing is not her talent.

It would be ridiculous to cry over a pair of pants, but Collins was close. Not only had Jason and Soph kept her from being isolated in this place - despite Collins being a woman who had planned to rob them and flee - but they noticed that she was in need and had helped.

She signed a clumsy Thank you to both of them, held up a finger asking Negan to wait, and ran into the nearest restroom to change. Her jeans, covered in stains and sporting inner thighs that were more hole than fabric, were tossed in the trash can as soon as she pulled her notepad and pen from the back pocket. The new pants were a perfect fit, and Collins was delighted to find that they had a number of pockets. It looked as though Jason had designed them after cargo pants and they were a serviceable dark gray.

When she emerged from the restroom, Negan looked impatient. "Are ya finally ready, doll? I have places to be, believe it or not."

Over his shoulder, Collins signed several "thank you"s to Jason and Soph, both of whom merely smiled in return. From there, she turned and followed Negan outside. The fearless leader of the Saviors chatted away as they walked around the space between the Sanctuary and the area fence.

"I've never seen anyone so excited for pants," he remarked casually. "I mean, they look great, but they're just pants."

For the first time since she had started this whole charade, Collins almost spoke aloud. At the last second, she turned the slight sound into a cough, which Negan regarded with interest. She wrote out her thoughts instead, managing to rein in her temper as she did so.

It's not about the pants, really. My old jeans were about to fall apart, but the cheapest pair of pants in the marketplace costs forty points - my points total for about four months. I didn't know what I was going to do, but Jason and Soph helped me.

Negan read the notepad and scoffed. "I pay you more than that."

She shook her head slowly, flashing two extended index fingers. "Eleven?" he asked with a frown. "You earn more than eleven points a month."

Not after food and rent costs.

He read the notepad and passed it back to her in silence, the furrow between his brows deepening. Eventually, he left her at the greenhouses, which Collins studied intently. The two structures were beside the small building which held the Sanctuary's livestock. She explored them thoroughly, memorizing which plants could be found in what order from the door and which ones were nearly ripe. Perhaps she could alter her escape route to come in this direction. Some vegetables and a few eggs would go a long way toward feeding her as she made her way west. The less hunting she had to do, the faster she could travel.

Collins spent a bit of time helping the gardeners, attempting to pick up advice about planting a garden, but most of the workers were too busy to stop and read a notepad and none knew sign language. Eventually, she had picked up as much as she could from observation alone and made her way to the makeshift barn.

It was hot inside and smelled like livestock, but Collins didn't mind. Manure was hardly the worst thing she had smelled at the Sanctuary… or in the world at large after this mess had started. She helped milk the cows, putting experience behind the knowledge she had gleaned from books, then cared for the chickens. Her favorite part of the day found Collins cradling a baby chick as it drowsed in her cupped palm.

Finally, it was time for the workers to finish for the day and they began making their way to the lower levels so they could clean up before it was time for dinner. Not hungry in the least, Collins climbed a fire escape to sit on the first level of the Sanctuary, looking out over the land. If anyone asked, she could say that she was just watching the sunset, but in her mind's eye, she was tracing her escape route over the hills and through the trees.

When someone clattered out onto the balcony behind her, Collins knew who it was without turning around. Hell, if she really was deaf, she would have known. There was only one man rich and powerful enough to wear cologne in the apocalypse.

Negan came to sit beside her on the wall, dangling his legs over the edge just as she was doing. "You said you can speak, right?" he asked without preamble, turning so she could read his lips.

Collins nodded and that was enough. "I forgot to tell you: if anyone asks who you are, you have to say you're me."

She frowned and tilted her head to the side in silent question. "It's a long story, but it's very important. If you can't do it, you can't stay, but Lucille says she'll make sure you don't turn into one of the geeks outside." Collins blinked at the blunt mention of her own death, but Negan continued without a second's hesitation. "Can you say it for me? Negan? N-E-G-A-N?"

This was tricky. In her limited experience, Collins had noted that deaf people tended to overcorrect when they tried to speak aloud and she tried to mimic that idiosyncrasy. "Degad."

"Close!" he encouraged. "That was more of a 'D' sound than an 'N', though. Try it again."

"Legad."

He puffed out a breath, shaking his head. "Not quite. Here." He slid far closer to her than he had been before and spoke with only inches between them. "Watch my mouth: Nneeegaaannn… Negan."

At last, Collins said his name correctly, but it was more due to her own discomfort with the situation than it was a product of careful analysis. "Negan."

He grinned broadly and she swore she could see every one of his teeth. "That's my girl." Negan looked out toward the sunset and relaxed, leaning ever-so-slightly closer to her even as a frown turned the corners of his mouth and his eyebrows furrowed. "My girl…"

Collins sat up slightly straighter, but he had said it away from her, so there was no reason she should know that he had spoken at all. She tapped him on the wrist, positioned so close that the heel of Collins's palm brushed the outside of her own thigh as she did.

When Negan turned, quirking one eyebrow in question, she brought her hand to her mouth and spun it gently away, miming speech with her own head tilted. "No, I didn't say anything," he denied, then smiled. "Was there something you wanted me to say?"

She shook her head. Negan swung his long legs back over the wall to stand on the roof once more, grabbing her wrist and then her hand in the guise of helping her back onto the quasi-balcony. When Collins stood with her feet flat on solid ground, he held her hand for an extended moment before releasing it. "Come on, it's dinner time and I'm starving!"

Author's Note - Lots of Negan in this one! Thanks to everyone for reading, following, and favoriting. If you have a minute, I would absolutely adore hearing from you! Even if it's just to complain about slow update times (sorry for being a day late, by the way) or to tell me that Negan is a bit OOC, it would be nice to get some feedback. Thanks again for reading and I'll see you next week!