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 Five

Collins didn't see Negan at all the following day. That wasn't much of a shock, since she was working once more and he was always locked away in his top-floor apartment with his collection of wives. She had seen him more over the past few days than she had the previous month of living in the Sanctuary, and that was the problem.

Wherever Negan went, his Saviors followed. Negan's increased presence on the lower levels of the Sanctuary meant that those same areas were crawling with Saviors. Anywhere Collins went, there were people watching her. It boded poorly for her upcoming escape plan, but that wasn't the end of her grievances.

She hadn't been able to suppress the memory of Negan calling her 'his girl' on the rooftop. It had been the same kind of nonsense he normally spouted, just another piece of the intimidation tactics he had built into his personality, but there had been something about his voice when he moved closer and stared out at the setting sun. Then there was the split second when he held her hand…

Collins sighed. He was an attractive man, not terribly much older than her, and he took care of his people. Of course, he was extraordinarily violent, oppressed the same people he took care of, and had a literal harem of wives. Not to mention, Collins intended to leave the compound as soon as she could manage.

But what's the harm in a little flirtation? It's nice to feel attractive, even in the apocalypse.

She snorted aloud at her own thoughts. What was the harm? Collins needed to get her toolkit and leave the Sanctuary, head off to create her own compound. The closer she got to Negan, the more he would be around and the more difficult escape would be.

Also, he would use Lucille to beat her to death if he found out she could hear. He'd probably smile as he did it.

Collins shuddered as she was reminded of how precarious a situation she was in. She was locked in a building with a powerful sadist who possessed an army of followers. It didn't matter that Negan was charismatic, or that his obsession with finding love was sort of sweet to witness. It only mattered that he stood between her and the new way of life she hoped to cultivate.

With that in mind, she solidified her determination to avoid Negan as much as possible.

Of course, that could be more difficult than it seemed. Though Collins hadn't seen the leader of the Saviors that day, she had gone to clean the lower levels of the Sanctuary and found the supply closet cleaned and well-organized. She had stepped inside, caught a whiff of paint, and felt carefully for the light switch. The floor, walls, and even the ceiling had been scrubbed, the latter two given a fresh coat of paint. The dim bulb dangling from the ceiling had been replaced with a brighter bulb and fitted with a white plastic cover that dispersed the light far better. The mess on the ground had been organized: the chemicals, buckets, and other cleaning flotsam had been placed onto sets of newly-installed shelves. The brooms and mops had been corralled behind a bungee cord that was stretched across a corner and tied onto hooks screwed into the walls. The fill station faucet had even been repaired, and Collins didn't miss the constant dripping in the slightest.

A note had been taped to the inside of the door: No more bruises. Consider that an order.

It had to be from Negan, and Collins had been less than shocked that he had rather neat handwriting. Was there anything he didn't do well? With a start, she had realized a stupid-looking smile had sprouted on her face while she hadn't been paying attention. She had folded the note up and grabbed the appropriate materials to clean the downstairs shower rooms.

The fact that the note stayed tucked into her pocket was inconsequential.

Another day of avoiding Negan had passed. Apparently, the day she had discovered the newly-refurbished supply closet, he had been out of the Sanctuary altogether. Collins only knew this because the Saviors continued to patrol the lower levels at all times of the day and night, and they had no qualms about speaking in front of a person they believed to be deaf. Besides being rude, speaking openly in front of her was a bad idea - Collins had taken care to show that she was extremely skilled at reading lips.

The next day, Negan had returned to the Sanctuary, along with some of his upper-level Saviors. Collins had heard the others talking about it and had been able to keep track of Negan's whereabouts by listening in on the radio conversations. Her only vulnerable moments were when she was eating, so Collins made a point of showing up, eating quickly, and leaving again.

Her luck ran out the following day, nearly a full week into the increased Savior patrols. She was pushing for the finish line at that point, reminding herself on an almost hourly basis that she had a few more days before the patrols would end and things would go back to normal. That was when she could leave the Sanctuary without suspicion.

It was in the middle of these musings that a tap on her shoulder made Collins jump violently. She turned to find Negan standing behind her in the mechanic's shop with a wide grin on his face. The expression was nice, reaching all the way to his eyes for a change and giving them a sense of warmth. The stretch of his lips sent wrinkles creasing across his cheeks and around his eyes, but it was a good look on him.

"Did I scare ya?" he teased, bringing Collins back to the present.

She shook her head with a slight smile, pointing her index fingers at her temples before writhing her fingers together in a mimicry of a busy brain. Without waiting for a response, she turned away, pretending as though sweeping the metal shavings from the mechanics' tables was the most all-consuming task she had ever undertaken.

"Hey," she heard him say behind her, sounding more disappointed than angry at her clear dismissal. She could ignore him, though, because he hadn't said it where she could have read his lips.

A moment later, the wide push broom jerked to a stop in her hands and Collins glanced up to find Negan's hand wrapped around the top of the handle. He was staring down at her, heat in his eyes and a frown on his face.

"Are you okay?"

She forced a smile and nodded. He looked unconvinced. "You just don't have time for a short conversation with your boss?"

The real question was how he had time for a conversation with her. He was wearing his 'Sanctuary business' clothing, which usually meant he was running around taking a personal interest in every part of the operation. Those seemed to be busy days for him, and he was only wasting time following a janitor around. Collins pulled the notepad from her pocket and began writing. I have to finish cleaning this shop and get to bed. I'm scheduled to deep-clean the kitchen overnight.

"Yeah, forget about all of that," he dismissed after reading her excuses. "Did you see the lower-level supply closet yet?"

She nodded and he raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you gonna say 'thank you'?"

Collins lifted the notepad to write out a quick thanks, but he pushed it down again. "I don't want that kind of thanks."

Fighting not to narrow her eyes at his blatantly wheedling tone, Collins lifted a hand and signed a simple 'thanks'.

Negan shook his head. "That's not what I want, either."

She frowned now, and he let her write, I don't know what you want from me.

"You're too skinny."

Collins blinked at the abrupt change in subject. She frowned, allowing her furrowed brow to speak for her.

"You're too skinny," Negan repeated, seeming frustrated with her. "I was hoping you'd put on some weight after we brought you here, but you've lived in the Sanctuary for over a month and you're still not looking healthy. It's dangerous, especially when you live and work in an enclosed space with this many people."

I don't skip meals, if that's what you're asking.

"You lyin' to me? Because I didn't see you in the cafeteria yesterday for lunch or dinner."

Ah, there was the reasoning. Yesterday was busy - I had to clean the butcher's area and it took all day. I ate both meals - Jason can vouch for me - but I didn't stay in the cafeteria for long.

"The butcher's?" Negan asked, seeming disgusted by the idea. It hadn't been Collins's favorite activity, but it had been her best idea of a place to avoid Negan - successfully, as it happened. The fact that the butcher's had desperately needed to be cleaned was incidental. After Collins had nodded in answer to Negan's question, he sighed. "You're being wasted down here, you know?"

She was? Collins's talents definitely lay outside of janitorial work, but Negan wasn't supposed to know that. With a lack of options for responses, Collins only gave a shrug.

"No, really," Negan mused, eventually giving a victorious smile that boded ill for Collins. "It's time we put your hard work to better use. Starting tomorrow, your new job will be cleaning the upper levels, Savior-exclusive areas, and my office."

Startled, Collins could only stare at him in horror. With one pseudo-promotion, he had severely damaged her ability to walk around the Sanctuary. Instead of being able to wander, double-check routes, and otherwise make her plans, Collins would be limited to the upper levels. She would become a strange and unusual face in the lower levels during working hours. That, along with her close proximity to large amounts of Saviors and top point-earners would draw more attention to her and her behaviors.

Simply put, Negan couldn't have destroyed her carefully-laid plans more thoroughly if he had been trying to do so.

Besides, if she was cleaning areas where important Savior business was being laid out, she might overhear information she would be better off not knowing. If Negan found out that Collins wasn't deaf after all, he would have more of an incentive to come after her. Traveling west promised to be enough of a challenge without having to spend the first few hundred miles trying to avoid Negan and his Saviors.

But there was still hope, as she reminded herself as she pulled the notepad up once more and began to write. It took a while to phrase her thoughts properly and Negan chuckled. "That's a lot of words to say 'Thanks for the promotion, Negan'."

She handed the notepad to him and watched him read, expecting his face to darken as he did so, but the smile remained pasted on his face. I really appreciate the recognition, but I think it would be better if I stayed down here for now. I'm just starting to understand the layout of the place and learn which areas need more effort. It was very kind of you to offer, though! You're a good boss.

The flattery was laid on a little thick, but more flies with honey than vinegar and all of that. If it kept her where she needed to be, Collins was willing to sacrifice her ego.

Negan eyed her with amusement, stroking a hand across his salt-and-pepper stubbled jaw. "Kindness has nothing to do with it, doll. I'm running a major operation here and I need to arrange people where they'll be the most efficient. I have six janitors other than you here at the Sanctuary and I pulled all of 'em to the upper levels after your second week here. Didn't you notice that nothing in the lower half of the building got cleaned if you didn't do it?"

Collins had noticed, actually, but assumed that the other workers were taking advantage and hiding. She had dealt with that easily enough. With her love of planning, Collins had soon mapped out the most efficient way of taking care of the lower levels without overworking herself.

However, the bigger concern was that Negan had taken notice of her so early into her stay at the Sanctuary. She hadn't been as invisible as she had believed, and it made her wonder if she had been too obviously scouting the building and its defenses. Maybe he was trying to keep Collins close to better observe her.

When she had shrugged in response to his question, Negan smirked. "Well, I was keeping an eye on how you worked. You kept the lower levels more clean by yourself than the six of them did together before you came here. I want that kind of detail work done in my office and living quarters. Effective tomorrow, the others will go back to the lower levels and you'll take care of the upper levels by yourself."

Collins must have looked unconvinced, because Negan rested a bracing hand on her shoulder. The unnerving warmth of him seeped through her Sanctuary-issued jacket and work shirt, and she fought the urge to shrug away from his touch. "Hey, don't sweat it, sweetheart. You'll do great. It'll be easier than what you're doing now. No butcher's, no mechanic's shop, and you still won't have to take care of living quarters other than mine. It'll be easy peasy."

When Collins raised the notepad to write another set of excuses, he locked fingers around her wrist and pulled the pen away. "I'd like to take this chance to remind you that this is my compound. I'm your leader. I'm the damn boss! I said you'll work in the upper levels, and that's what's gonna happen. If you don't like it, I'll escort you to the fuckin' gates."

She paused, staring at him. Was it as easy as that? Could this be a simple solution to all of her problems? She could simply ask to leave and he would allow it? Collins frowned, tilting her head to the side and Negan laughed. "That's an expression, by the way. I don't let my people walk away, especially when they're good workers. As soon as you agreed to work for me, I owned you. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, doll. Get some sleep after you're done with the kitchen and come to my office on the top floor when you wake up."

Negan moved as if to step away, but remained standing far too close to her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Oh, and Collins… Make sure you lock up the garage after you're done for the day. All of the mechanics are already gone and this area is highly restricted. No Sanctuary resident should be in here without a Savior guard, so lock it up before you leave and check it a few times. I'd hate for your pretty head to be on the chopping block!"

He chucked her under the chin and stepped away, looking back to be sure she could see his mouth as he said, "I'll see you sometime tomorrow afternoon. I'm not even making you wake up early! What a great boss, am I right? Your words, not mine!"

Collins could only watch him leave with rising fury, the emotions refusing to settle until she threw a wrench across the room. As it clattered loudly to the floor, it was as though her mind smoothed and her thoughts became logical once more.

Her dedication to leaving had never wavered, but maybe it was time to veer away from her careful plans. She would be awake all night for a work-sanctioned reason and there could never be a better chance to leave the Sanctuary for good.

Half-heartedly, she finished her work in the mechanic's shop and left to repack her bag and collapse onto her creaking mattress for a few hours, carefully leaving the mechanic's shop unlocked. Later that night, Collins woke for dinner, ate, and retrieved her bag before reporting to the kitchen. The chefs and their assistants were finishing the light cleaning they did every night, but they didn't mind as she began to dust the high areas.

Efficiently, Collins worked her way from the ceiling down and had the expansive room sparkling clean in only a few hours. By her best estimation, it was around three a.m., and with any luck, the Saviors on patrol duty would be too tired to take much notice of her walking around.

From the kitchen, Collins turned the opposite direction of the living quarters. The mechanic's shop was one of the only places that boasted both a door to the interior of the Sanctuary and the exterior. From there, it was only a short distance to the greenhouses and farm building, and there was a corner of the chain-link fence surrounding the Sanctuary behind the makeshift barn itself. It would be her best chance for escape.

As the mechanic's shop came into view, Collins's heartbeat sped up. This was going to work, she was going to leave the Sanctuary.

The shop was blissfully empty, the chill of the last breaths of winter seeping into the room from the concrete floors and sheet metal walls. There was only a single window as most of the airflow was meant to come from the large garage-style door that took up most of one wall, but moonlight poured through the glass panes. She stepped quietly through the blue-tinted space, careful to avoid any loose pieces of metal that could make sound.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Collins jumped. She couldn't help the reaction, but tried to disguise it by stumbling slightly. She didn't turn to look at the person behind her, but studied the ground as though she were searching for something, subtly slipping the hair tie from her wrist and shooting it across the room.

A rough hand turned her around and Collins found herself staring at the blond Savior with the burn scars on his face. "What are you doing here?"

Looking at his suspicious expression, Collins unleashed a tangle of sign language. He looked confused, and she couldn't blame him. Even if the man had understood sign language, her hands were shaking so badly that she almost couldn't form the words properly.

"I don't understand that," he told her flatly. She sighed inaudibly and pretended to be looking for something, frowning exaggeratedly. "You lost something?"

She nodded and he narrowed his eyes at her. "You can't talk?"

Collins shook her head and covered her ears. "You can't hear?" His expression cleared. "You're that deaf girl, the janitor. Negan has mentioned you. I'm Dwight."

She sent him a halfhearted smile and a shaky wave. "What did you lose?" She held her hair back in a ponytail for a second before bringing her hands back in front of her, stretching her fingers to mime the elastic of a hair tie.

Dwight snorted. "Well, you're not going to find that again, not in here. You aren't even supposed to be in here this late. Why are you awake?"

She mimed cleaning, then cooking. "You were cleaning the kitchen?" Collins nodded. "Well, you shouldn't have taken this detour. You're a long way from the living quarters, you know that? I'll walk you back."

Collins signed a quick thank you though she wanted more than anything to start screaming. She had been so painfully close to leaving. Dwight escorted her all the way back to the bed-filled, sheet-lined halls in silence. Before he left, he said awkwardly, "Look, I'm gonna have to tell Negan about this. He takes it pretty seriously when people aren't where they're supposed to be."

Well, that would put an even bigger kink in her escape plans. She pulled her trusty notepad and pen out of her pocket and carefully wrote I understand that you have to tell Negan. I'm sorry, I didn't think about it being so late. I just wanted to get my hair tie back and I think that's where I lost it.

He took the note and scanned it for a moment, then gave a quick nod and walked away without saying anything else. Internally swearing at the events of the entire night, Collins made her way to her room and changed for bed, unpacking the necessities from her bag as she did. At least Dwight hadn't asked why she had it with her.

Author's Note - Ooh, Collins! Cutting it pretty close this time, aren't we? Too bad Dwight was hanging around... Tune in next week to find out about Collins' new job in the Sanctuary!

As always, thanks for reading! Special shout-out to those who have followed or added this story to their favorites! Consider leaving me some feedback? It makes all of the work I've put into this story worth it. Have a wonderful day and I'll see you next week!