I woke up to find myself still curled up in Negan's bed. Sunlight poured into the room from his windows, and I could feel its heat against my face. Based on how bright it was, I knew it had to be late morning or early afternoon.

I sat up slowly and looked around the room. I was alone, and there was a fresh pair of clothes folded neatly at the foot of the bed. There was also a towel, a washcloth, and two tiny bottles of shampoo and soap—they looked like the little ones that hotels used to have.

I was sitting up and staring at the collection of items when the door opened and Negan walked in, looking right at me. He always looked so clean and lively. I let out a yawn and he smiled at me.

"Sleep well?" He moved his baseball bat to the floor and leaned on it.

"Yeah," I replied, rolling my shoulders a bit. His bed was very nice, and I knew I needed to get up, but a small part of me wanted to stay there and sleep more.

"I'm sorry I took your bed," I added, looking down at the mattress. It was huge, and we both could have easily laid together without having to touch. I wondered if he had slept; he looked well rested enough. I knew he was trying to make me comfortable so that I would stay, especially after what had happened.

My thoughts went back to the day before and I closed my eyes, willing myself not to picture the dead body slumped on the floor. I needed to forget it. It wasn't like I could take it back. I knew this was probably going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

"Don't worry about it," Negan's voice brought me back to the present. "I'm here to escort you to the showers, and then after I'll take you home."

I turned to look back up at him with big eyes.

"Really?" I asked eagerly, smiling at the idea of seeing my friends again.

"If that's what you want," Negan said with a serious expression.

"Yes, please," I answered, still smiling. I knew he wanted me to remain at the Sanctuary, but I needed to return to Doveport. It's where I belonged.

"First let's get you properly cleaned up." Negan gestured to the hallway, and I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I gathered all of the clean clothes and shower supplies into my arms and followed Negan out of the room.

We walked in silence and he brought me to the same showers I had used the day before. He stood outside the room in the hallway, and told me to make it quick. I nodded and went to go inside the large shower room.

I undressed quickly, not wanting to make Negan wait long. My jeans were still open, and I tried not to think about why as I slid them down my legs. I removed the rest of my clothes and stepped behind the curtain. I looked down and realized I still had some dried blood on me. I watched the red rivulets run down the drain in a haze and thought back to the attack.

I hadn't really given the man who attacked me a chance to stop. Maybe if I had asked him again he wouldn't be dead. I remembered the feeling of his hands holding me down—the rough way he forced his mouth onto mine—and then, the look of panic in his eyes when I stabbed him. I hadn't wanted to kill him. I just wanted him to stop.

"You fucking die in there, or what?!" Negan's voice once again brought me back to the present, and I looked up in surprise from his voice. It was coming from the other side of the curtain. I hadn't realized it until he brought me back to reality, but I had started crying.

"Sorry!" I answered, and could hear the sound of my voice crack. Negan must have heard it too, because he sighed and responded much gentler.

"It's fine. We have a long drive back to the school and need to get moving."

I turned off the water and peaked out of the stall to see Negan was offering me my towel. I was completely naked behind the shower curtain, but he couldn't see anything. I shivered as the cold air started to tickle my exposed skin.

"I'll be in the hall." And with that, he turned away and headed out. He seemed to be guarding me, and I thought it was kind of sweet. I wondered if he felt guilty for that had happened. He was certainly acting very protective of me.

I got dressed quickly, thankful for the new underwear. I pulled my bra back on and looked down to see there were blood stains still splattered across it, but I wasn't willing to go without it. I pulled on the clothes Negan had brought for me—green cargo pants that were a little too big for me, and a white racer-back tank top. I brushed my hair as best I could with my fingers, not wanting to bother Negan for a hairbrush. I tried to avoid looking at my reflection as I combed my digits through my locks. I didn't want to have to face myself. Not yet.

When I stepped back into the hallway, Negan was leaning on the wall by the threshold of the door. He stared at me for a few seconds without saying anything; his eyes seemed to trail down, taking my new appearance, and then back up to my face. I smiled at him.

"Thank you," I said.

"Come on," Negan replied, turning away from me and walking ahead. I followed behind closely as he led me out of the Sanctuary.

We stepped outside where the big fence was with the chained walkers. I tried to ignore their growls and we headed towards a car. He opened the back seat and gestured for me to get in, so I did.

Negan threw something at me, and I glanced down onto my lap to see it was a black bag. I looked up at him confused, holding onto the thick fabric.

"Put it on," he instructed, shutting the car door and getting into the passenger side. A Savior I hadn't met before was already in the driver's seat.

"Why?" I asked, looking up at him confused.

"Fuck, woman! Do you want to go home or not?" Negan barked. I nodded quickly, and pulled the black bag over my head, making everything go dark. I figured he did it so no one would know where the Sanctuary was. It was really smart, and I decided I wouldn't argue with him on it. I was heading home. That's all that mattered.

I heard the truck start, and then we started driving. I became incredibly excited at the idea of seeing everyone again. Negan said he hadn't hurt anyone, and I trusted him to be telling me the truth. I knew they were going to have a lot of questions, especially now that I was wearing different clothes. I figured they were probably just as worried for me as I was about them.

The trip didn't take nearly as long as I thought, but we all sat in complete silence. I was surprised Negan didn't talk more, so I opted to remain quiet as we traveled. Although the drive was fairly short, the silence made it feel like an eternity.

Finally the truck came to a full stop. I didn't wait for permission, and pulled the little black bag off my head and blinked a few times to adjust to the light. I saw Doveport's gate and grinned wide. I was home.

The gate opened, and the Savior drove the truck into the school. Out the window, I could see Ryan looking at me, his expression one of total surprise and happiness. Vivienne was across the way kneeling in her garden. She stood up as the truck parked and started rushing over to where we were.

"I'll be dealing with Baldy from now on," Negan said, making me turn to look at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. "My offer to you is still on the table." He wanted me to know I was still allowed to go back to the Sanctuary, but I think he knew it wasn't going to happen, especially after what happened the day before.

He moved his arm up so he was holding something over his shoulder at me. It was my knife. I nodded to him, and took it from his hand, trying to keep my mind off of the last time I had used it. Our eyes locked in the mirror for a few long moments, before I turned to look out the window. I could see Vivienne had neared us and was slowly approaching the truck.

"Thank you," I said to him, and I meant it. He had brought me home, and it was all I wanted.

Negan stared at me in the little mirror and his expression was very hard to read. He looked like he was in deep thought, and he continued to watch me as I got out of the vehicle.

I shut the truck door, and was surprised when it turned around and pulled out of Doveport. I figured he was going to address everyone again, but watched as Negan and his Savior disappeared beyond the gate and Ryan closed it.

Vivienne didn't say anything at first and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me in for a big hug. She held me in her arms and squeezed me tight. I heard Amy's voice calling my name from the front of the school, and then the sound of people approaching, but I couldn't see because my face was pressed into Vivienne.

"We were so scared, Elle. We thought you were dead. I'm so happy you're okay." Vivienne hugged me even tighter, and I could hear she was crying. I hugged her back.

"I'm fine," I managed, pulling back to look at her. She had tears streaming down her face, but was smiling. I looked behind her to see Amy, Eric and Philip were standing there. Amy moved fast and threw her arms around me, almost knocking me off balance. She hugged me tight, and Eric patted my shoulder as she hugged me. When she let go of me, Philip pulled me into another hug. I felt a lump form in my throat and struggled not to cry. I had thought he was dead, and knowing he and everyone else were really okay was such a relief.

I didn't want to tell them about what happened. I was more than willing to talk about the Sanctuary, and most of what I had learned, but the attack… and the man I had murdered—I didn't think I could tell them about it. Would they understand? I didn't want to take that risk.

My mind wandered back to that bed, the blood spatter, that look on his face when I had jabbed the knife deep into his neck…

"Elle?" Philip asked concerned, rubbing my back.

I snapped out of it and smiled a little at him. He was looking at me very concerned, and the others looked at me confused.

"Are you guys okay?" I asked, wanting to get my mind off that.

"Yes, everyone is fine. Negan told me he wasn't going to kill me because you were taking my punishment. I assumed the worst. We all did." Philip continued to rub my back comfortingly. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," I responded, probably a bit too quickly. "Can we go inside?"

Philip noticed my fast response and furrowed his brow at me, but nodded.

We all walked up to the school together, and Amy was telling me about the last two days. They had cleared out the rest of the cars in the traffic jam. There wasn't much left, and Eric and her had set out to find another place to scavenge. I nodded as she talked to me, but couldn't help but look over to where Philip was, still staring at me.

He knew.

There was no way he knew exactly what had happened, but Philip had always been good at reading people and knowing when something was wrong.

We entered the school and Philip cleared his throat.

"Elle, can I talk to you alone?" he asked, and gestured in the direction of his office. I knew there was no avoiding this, and nodded. The others lingered by the front as I walked with him. It felt awkward, but I knew there was no avoiding this.

We entered the little room, and I went to the seat in front of the desk.. He walked over to the big leather chair, and sat down. He didn't take his eyes off me and leaned forward.

"I'm so sorry, Phil. I-"

"Don't apologize, Ellie. Everyone here is okay, but something happened at the Sanctuary, didn't it?" Philip's eyes were scanning me over, trying to figure out what happened. "Did Negan force you to do something you didn't want to do?"

I scrunched my face at his words. Negan hadn't made me do anything. It was that man—that monster, who crept into my room and—

No. I wasn't going to go back there.

"Negan didn't do anything to me," I mumbled, averting eye contact. I knew Philip wouldn't be content until he got an answer, but I couldn't give him the whole truth.

"One of his men tried to hurt me," I admitted, still looking off to the side. I was doing my best not to picture it again. "He came into my room and forced me onto the bed. Negan killed him."

I was lying to Philip and I didn't like it, but I couldn't tell him I had murdered someone. Then it would be real. And it wasn't a full lie; Negan had killed my attacker, but only after he had turned. I had been the one to stab him in the first place and take his life.

"Jesus… Ellie, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Philip asked, still so much concern on his face.

"I will be. I just need some time." I wanted to change the subject off the incident. "I met a really nice woman named Naomi. She showed me around the factory. They live in this big building and he's got walkers chained up on a fence outside. Naomi told me Negan has multiple wives living there, but I didn't see them."

"Wives!?" Philip exclaimed, reaching across his desk for the whiskey bottle. I watched him pick it up and screw off the little glass topper to pour some into a tumbler. "This is insanity, Ellie."

"It's crazy," I agreed, and watched him take a sip of whiskey before putting the glass down and looking back up at me. "I'm just glad that you're okay. Negan ordered that we continue to gather supplies for him every week. Amy and Eric have been doing their best, but I think most of us gave up hope when we thought you were dead."

"I can go out today and help look for supplies," I offered, sitting up in the chair. The idea of getting out and having something to focus on sounded really good.

"You should take a day off," Philip suggested, his expression serious.

"I'm fine, Phil," I assured him. "I want to."

Philip sighed and leaned back in the big office chair.

"You know, I might be the leader of Doveport again, but it certainly doesn't feel like it." Philip said with a laugh, and he scratched his bald head. "I think you did a good job running things."

I chuckled and stood up.

"I wasn't really in charge," I pointed out.

"You could be if you wanted to." Philip was looking up at me from across the desk with the tumbler in his hand.

"Just be careful, Ellie."

I had turned to leave the room when he said what he always said when I was about to go out on a run. He was wishing me the best, constantly so worried about my well being. I had only met Philip a few months back, but it felt like I'd known him my whole life.

"I will." I grinned at him and turned, leaving the office.

It felt good to just go on a scavenging run by myself. We usually had a "buddy system" and always traveled with someone else, but I needed some alone time. I didn't want to have to answer everyone's questions about what happened. I just wanted to focus on something other than Negan and his Sanctuary.

I only drove a few hours before I came to a small town that looked completely ransacked. Most places were stripped of anything worthwhile, and good finds were too rare. I slowed the car and saw a group of walkers roaming around the streets, looking for their next meal. I decided I would press my luck and go through some of the houses.

It only took me a few minutes to learn that this place was just as it appeared—completely looted, and had next to nothing for us to use. I loaded up a few blankets I had found inside a house into the trunk, and was getting ready to leave, when I spotted a tree-house in the front yard of one of the houses I had searched. There was a little rope ladder hanging down, and I wondered if there was anything good up inside.

Moving quietly over to the tree, I carefully climbed up the flimsy ladder until I reached the top. I pushed open a square wooden door and pulled myself up inside the tree-house and smiled.

There were multiple boxes lining the walls and they were filled with food and water. There was a handgun sitting on a little makeshift table, and a sleeping bag was laying across the middle of the floor. I grabbed one of the food boxes and threw the gun into it, starting the process of loading everything up. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to make Negan happy for a week.

I had started to roll the sleeping bag up when I heard the sound of the plastic foot holds scraping up against the bark on the tree. Thinking it was a walker, I went over to the box and took the gun out. I looked down the opening to see it wasn't a walker, but a woman, climbing up the ladder and focusing on her footing as she pulled herself closer to the top.

I was in someone's shelter, stealing all of their shit, and they were about to catch me.

I only had a few more seconds before she discovered me, so I backed up from the door and looked at the windows of the tree-house. They were far too small for me to climb out, and even if I could, it was too high up. Feeling I didn't have another choice, I crawled over against a wall and aimed the gun at the opening. I didn't want to have to kill this person, but now knew I was more than capable of defending myself.

The woman's head popped up and looked right at me as I aimed the gun at her face. We locked eyes and stared at one another for a few moments, neither of us moving.

"Fuck," she said simply from her place on the last rung of the ladder.

I didn't know what to do next. I wasn't a thief, and didn't want to take away this person's chance at survival, but I also didn't want to die. Fortunately for me, she was unarmed from climbing up the ladder.

"If you're gonna kill me, you might as well get it over with," she sighed, raising her eyebrows at me. For someone who had a gun pointed at her, she seemed incredibly calm.

"I didn't realize this was yours. I won't take anything. I'll just go," I said slowly, hoping that she would agree and we could both go on our way.

"Can I finish climbing up without getting a bullet in my face?" She watched me for my answer.

"Just don't try anything," I warned, still aiming the gun at her. I was scared that she would do something, but really didn't want to shoot her. There had been a lot of walkers, and I still needed to get back to my car.

"I just want to get off this shitty ladder." She tilted her head at me, as if waiting for my permission. I nodded, giving her it.

She finished climbing up into the tree-house and pulled the rope ladder up with her. I continued to aim the gun as she shut the little wooden door, and I studied her. She had medium length brown hair that was tucked behind her ears, and she was very tall. She was wearing skin tight gray pants and a black tee shirt that looked dirty. I noticed she had carried up a bag, and she tossed it to the side. As I took her in, she seemed to be doing the same with me. She had turned to face me, and held out her hand.

"Can I have my gun, please?" she asked nonchalantly.

I squinted my eyes, still aiming it right at her.

"It's not even loaded," she added, taking a step towards me and reaching forward. Before I could respond, she removed the gun from my hand, and I didn't stop her. I hadn't even thought to check for bullets.

She sat down onto the floor with her back against the wall and pulled the magazine out of the cartridge.

It was fully loaded.

She lied.

Shit.

My heart stopped for a split second when I realized she now had the upper-hand, but she set the gun down on the floor next to her and stretched out her legs. She didn't appear to be a threat, and I did my best to calm my nerves.

"I'm Elle," I mumbled, slowly sitting down on the floor across from her. I felt like leaving would be rude, but truth be told, the gun still made me nervous.

"Charlotte," she said with a smile."I see you found my home."

"I was just scavenging supplies for my group. I saw the tree-house and was curious. I'm sorry."

Charlotte shrugged, still grinning at me. She seemed friendly enough.

"Walkers can't climb trees," she explained, reaching over to the box where I had been loading up supplies. She pulled it over to where she was sitting, and rummaged around inside.

"Hungry?" she asked, not looking up from the box.

"No, that's okay. I'm fine," I said, eyeballing the gun that was next to her. We were trying to build trust, and that was a difficult thing to do these days.

"Here. I hate these things." She pulled out a can and tossed it at me, making me reach up to catch it before it could fall. It was a can of peas.

"It's a peas offering. Get it?" She chuckled at her own joke.

My stomach made a loud growl, and I realized it had been a while since I had eaten anything. My last meal was at the Sanctuary with Naomi. I hadn't really been hungry after what had happened.

"Your group must really be struggling if your stomach is making noises like that," Charlotte said, opening up a can of mandarin oranges. She dug out a plastic fork for herself, and tossed me a plastic spoon. I opened the can of peas with my knife, and shoveled some into my mouth. Peas weren't my favorite either, but I wasn't about to complain. Something was better than nothing.

"We get by okay. It's just been a rough last couple of days, and things haven't been normal," I admitted between bites.

"What even is normal anymore?" Charlotte asked with a laugh, and took a bite of her oranges.

"My group actually does pretty good, all things considered, but there's this group that makes us work for them called the Saviors." I don't know why I felt like I could talk to Charlotte, I just did. I had always been a bit of an open book. The words were coming out before I could stop myself, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Saviors? That sounds fucking stupid," Charlotte said, drinking some of the syrup from her can.

I laughed and nodded. "They're a little over the top. We have to give them supplies every week and it's very frustrating."

"So you're a slave?" Charlotte asked, looking up at me.

"No. It's not that bad…" I trailed off, realizing I was starting to defend Negan. Maybe it was that bad. He was forcing us to give him supplies when we could barely afford to feed ourselves. Things had become much more stressful and difficult since he had come into our lives, and I hadn't really thought about it much, but we didn't exactly have any freedom anymore. We lived and breathed Negan.

"I used to be with a group too, but not anymore," Charlotte mumbled between another bite of oranges. "I don't mind being on my own cause I don't have to lose anyone. It's nice when you only hafta look out for yourself."

I nodded, understanding what she meant. I couldn't do what she was doing. I needed to be with people, and the idea of being alone terrified me. I thought about Negan, and how he had to look out for hundreds of people. Did he ever mourn their deaths? Did he mourn that man I had killed? Had they been friends? Had I murdered one of his friends?

Once again my thoughts went back to the man I killed, and my expression must have soured, because Charlotte set her can down on the wooden floor.

"You okay?" she asked. I looked at her and wanted so bad—no, I needed to talk about what happened. The others might not understand, but maybe Charlotte would. And if she didn't, she was just a stranger, so it wouldn't really matter.

"I killed someone," I whispered, looking down at the dusty floor of the tree-house. Charlotte didn't say anything, and I realized how vague I was being. "I went back to their colony—the Saviors—and this guy tried to rape me. I stabbed him."

Charlotte was looking at me with a blank expression as I spoke, and then she picked up her can of oranges again.

"Good riddance," she muttered, taking a bite. "I've killed people too, but every single one of them had it coming. You'll probably have to kill again, and my advice? Never hesitate. That's how you end up dead." Her words brought me back to the time Negan had put his bat into my hands and told me to kill him. He had told me something similar then, about not hesitating.

"Sometimes we have to kill to defend ourselves and the people we care about. That's just how it works now." She shrugged and took one last bite, before setting the empty can onto the floor.

"You should come back to Doveport with me," I blurted. I know I was being very trusting, but I just had this feeling in my gut that Charlotte was a good person. We could use more people like her.

"Doveport?" she asked, stretching her arms out in front of her.

"It's our community. We all live at this little school. There's a wall surrounding the building, and it has a reinforced gate to keep the walkers out," I explained.

Charlotte chuckled nervously, and then looked at me with a kind smile.

"I appreciate the offer Elle, but I'm fine on my own."

I furrowed my brow, not convinced.

"We have plenty of food. Vivienne has a really neat garden, and we have a spare bed." Seth's bed. I didn't think anyone had even been inside his bedroom since his death.

"I don't want to have to work for the Saviors," Charlotte said sternly. "I like my freedom, and would like to keep it that way."

I couldn't blame her. I was still disappointed she wouldn't even give it a chance, but I nodded with a frown. It wasn't like I was going to force her.

"Where's this school at?" Charlotte asked, pulling out a map from the little bag she had brought up with her and opening it up on the floor between the two of us. I pointed on the map to where Doveport was located.

"Tell you what, if I change my mind and decide to stop being such a loner, I'll come find the school." She crumpled up the map and shoved it back into her pack.

I smiled at her, happy she was at least willing to think about it.

"I should probably get going," I said, reaching over and opening the little wooden door to the tree-house.

"Hang on. I'll send some stuff with you." Charlotte reached over to another box against the wall and started tossing things inside.

"No, that's alright. You don't have to give me anything," I protested, putting my hands up. Charlotte pulled a toolbox out from near one of the boxes and set it inside the box she was preparing for me.

"Not like tree-houses need much maintenance," she laughed, setting a few cans of food inside, and then pushing the box towards me. "Seriously, take it. I have plenty."

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "Take care of yourself."

"See you later!" Charlotte sang out. I carefully balanced the box on my hip and made my way down the rope ladder. It was a bit tricky to get down, but in a few moments my feet were back on the ground, and I looked up at the tree-house. I had left the gun on the floor, not wanting to take any weapons from her. I was glad things had went well with Charlotte. Our little meeting could have easily led to one of us dying, but she was proof there was still good left in this hellish world.

I trekked back to my car and set the box inside the trunk. Pulling out my keys, I rounded the vehicle just in time for a walker to come up near me. I pulled out my knife and stabbed it in the side of the neck.

I watched it fall to the ground, and was suddenly transported back to that bedroom in the Sanctuary. I was curled up on the bed, and he was looking down at me with terrified eyes, as blood gushed from the deep wound. I couldn't look away.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing myself to stop. I didn't need to think about that. I just needed to get home.

Opening my eyes, I looked over and up at the tree-house and smiled.

Perhaps it was because I had just met someone friendly, but for the first time in a long time, I felt that maybe—just maybe—things were going to be okay.