I was standing behind the register at the grocery store and scanning items that came down the belt. It was a normal, busy day; the other grocery clerks had people in their lines and were scanning items. My feet were sore, I couldn't wait for my shift to be over, and something just didn't feel right. Hadn't I quit this job?

I hadn't looked up to see who my customer was, but they were buying a lot of cherry pop-tarts. The soft beeps from the bar-codes being scanned echoed throughout store, and the familiar sound was kind of comforting.

I scanned box after box of the processed pastries until suddenly a baseball bat came down the conveyor belt. It was followed by a roll of barbed wire.

I stared down at the items confused. I didn't think we sold those kinds of things at the grocery store. I looked up to ask my customer where they had found them, but there was no one there. I glanced around, and realized I was completely alone in the store. I turned to look behind me when a voice cleared their throat.

"You got quite the arm on you, huh?" I faced back to see a man was now standing in front of my till—not just any man—Adam.

At first he looked normal; I stared at his tattoos as I tried to figure out why he was here at the store. Then, just after he finished speaking, I watched as tiny little red marks appeared on the side of his head and started leaking blood. It ran down his face and he didn't even flinch.

"I did you a favor killing that bald bastard," he said, as he continued to bleed. I looked down to see that there were now chunks of bloody skin coming down the conveyor belt. I gasped in horror as Adam's head continued to be mutilated right before me—the bits of brain and skull were piling up on my till.

I took a few steps away from my register and felt my back hit something. Startled, I spun around to come face to face with Philip.

"Why did you let Adam kill me?" he asked simply, with a furrowed brow.

"I didn't!" I exclaimed, and felt tears form in my eyes. I watched as a bullet hole formed on his head and a line of blood ran down his face. I tried to go to him, but I couldn't move. I was frozen in place.

"If you wanted to play leader so bad, you should have killed him yourself." Negan stepped up from behind Philip and then raised the bat above his head.

"NO!" I yelled, reaching out to pull Philip away. My hand touched air, and Philip disappeared.

Negan swung the bat over his shoulder, and then brought it flying towards my head.

My eyes opened fast and I sat up.

Looking around the room, I realized it had been another nightmare.

I had been plagued with them for the last couple days.

After the incident with Caleb, Negan had moved us into the Sanctuary. And although I was now living with him, I hadn't seen him since I had interrupted his meeting. Dr. Carson told me he was busy with other matters.

Eric was awake, but could barely walk on his own. Every day he practiced physical therapy with Amy to try and help him recover faster, but Caleb's men had really done a number on him. He was relieved to see Amy and the baby were okay, but he apologized for not being able to protect me. I told him not to feel guilty—I hadn't been able to defend him either. We were both lucky to be alive.

My cuts were healing, but it was a slow process. Showering was a hassle—the water stung on my skin. Doctor Carson helped me change my bandages, and removed some of my stitches. The gash on my neck was the most sore of them all, and I still had to take pain medication.

I had started taking quite a bit of it.

The meds made me feel numb, and not just in a physical sense. They calmed my nerves and helped me not to focus on the nightmares that haunted me every time I slept. My mind kept trying to pull me back to the past—to Philip's death—to killing Adam—to A.J.—to Caleb. I hadn't had a good night's rest in a long time, but the more pills I swallowed, the less I felt.

Carson had said I could take two pills every six hours, but I was taking them far more often than that. Every two hours or so, I would go straight to the little bottle, and often I took more than just two. It became a comfort. Unfortunately, the medication made it hard to focus, and I was constantly dizzy.

I sat up and looked around. I was no longer staying in the infirmary, but had been moved into a small bedroom. It was simple; there was a single bed with a grey comforter and a pillow, a small, wooden dresser, and a bedside table with a lamp. I was grateful to have my privacy. Everyone was basically breathing down my neck and constantly checking on me. It was nice to have some space.

I pulled the blankets back and glanced down at myself. I was wearing a black tank top and had taken my pants off to lay in bed. My legs were still covered with bandages, though some of the cuts were exposed. Carson had said it would be a good idea to let the shallow wounds get some clean air. He had also said the pain would be a little irritating, but I was taking so many pills, I couldn't feel a thing.

I reached over to the little nightstand where the pill bottle was. I picked it up and poured out four pills into my hand and swallowed each one individually. I had started doubling the doses when the nightmares got too bad.

I remained sitting up on the bed, waiting for the effects to take hold. I knew once they had right away; my entire body relaxed and I glanced over at my pillow. I was just about to lay back down when a knock at my door grabbed my attention.

"Come in!" I called, pulling the blankets over my bare legs. The door opened and Vivienne stepped in.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. They were always asking me that.

"Just took my meds." I gestured at the pill bottle. I had been careful not to let Carson, or anyone else notice the amount of pills that were missing. I didn't need him to know about my extra doses.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm headed out to work on the garden. You're welcome to come see it, if you're feeling up for it."

I nodded and rubbed at my eyes. I hadn't really spent much time with anyone in the last couple days and had been trying to get some rest. Maybe going out wouldn't hurt. I thought back to the night I had went to thank Negan for saving our lives and Vivienne had been sitting in his room, discussing the garden. We hadn't been here very long, and she was already making herself at home. Negan had said we could discuss moving back to Doveport, but I wondered if he had meant it.

I didn't realize it right away, but I had been staring off at a wall to my side for a while before Vivienne brought me back to the present.

"Elle?" Her voice raised in concern, and I turned to look at her.

"I'll come out and see it now. Just let me get dressed."

She smiled wide at me. "Okay! See you in a few."

She exited my room and I waited a few seconds before turning my attention back to the little bottle. I was going to need to slow down, or I'd run out fast.

I got up carefully, trying my best to find my balance. As my feet braced on the floor, my body swayed from side to side at first. I felt dizzy and a little nauseous, but I was getting used to it. I pulled on my jeans, grabbed my knife, and then headed out of the bedroom.

The Saviors didn't seem to pay us much attention. Negan had made it very clear that we were his guests and we weren't to be messed with. I did notice that many of them would stare at me, and realized it was probably because of the little stunt I had pulled during Negan's meeting.

I had taken off my shirt in front of his men. And weeks back when he had brought me to the Sanctuary, I had spent the night in his room. I didn't really care what they thought, but knew they probably had their opinions about me—hence the staring.

I headed outside and towards the back of the factory where the garden was being built. I noticed all of the men that were patrolling the perimeter—their guns held tightly and ready to shoot at a moment's notice. They looked like soldiers. I glanced around at the many vehicles that were parked back there, including the car we had given Negan. By the looks of it, they didn't even need it.

I saw Vivienne from across the way. There was a huge patch of dirt, much larger than the one back at Doveport, where she was kneeling down and talking to a few men and women. As I approached, I could hear her talking about fertilizer.

"Hey," I said awkwardly, walking up and raising a hand to shield the sun from my eyes. Everyone turned to look at me, and I kept my focus on Vivienne as they regarded me.

"Elle!" Vivienne got up from the ground and approached me. "What do you think?" She gestured at the large dirt patch.

"Looks like you have a lot of room to work with." I glanced around at the faces and noticed there was a familiar one.

"Danny?" I asked, squinting.

He looked up from where he had been digging into the dirt with a garden shovel and smiled at me.

"Hi, Elle," he greeted me warmly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." I smiled at him. I hadn't seen him since he had been living at the school with us. I had almost forgotten that he had fled Doveport and returned to Negan to tell him all about the lie we had been spinning about me being the leader. As he stood before me, an awkward air grew between the two of us. I wasn't really sure what to say to him, and was grateful Vivienne cut in.

"You should see all the different types of seeds they have." She walked over to a little box that was sitting on the ground and picked it up. She brought it over to me and I looked inside. It was filled with little, colorful planter's packets. I could see pictures of cucumbers, tomatoes, and peas.

"That's great, Viv." I looked behind her to see the Sanctuary members that had been gathered to learn gardening tips were all staring at me. Their eyes were studying my cuts and bandages, and I shuffled nervously.

This was why I wasn't leaving my room very often anymore.

"Elle, can I talk to you?" Danny asked in a nervous voice, making me forget I was being watched like an animal at the zoo. He had gotten up from the ground and was standing across from me with an unsure look on his face. I was starting to feel light headed, but I nodded. I told Vivienne I would see her later and wished her luck with her garden, and then Danny led me back inside the factory building.

We entered the cafeteria and sat down at the one of the long tables. We were the only ones in the room, and he seemed a little uneasy as he looked at me.

It was probably my cuts.

"What's up?" I asked, grateful to be sitting. The meds had really kicked in, and I felt like if I closed my eyes long enough I would pass out.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I never got to apologize before, and I didn't mean to get you in trouble." He stared down at the table as if he was ashamed. "I was afraid we would get caught, and I didn't want anyone to die for me."

I could barely focus on his apology. I nodded, pretending that I had heard him, but my attention was elsewhere. While he was speaking, I noticed a bit of movement behind him, and my eyes went to a shadowy figure off in the distance. I squinted to try and see what it was, but it disappeared before I could make it out.

"Elle?" Danny asked in a concerned voice. My eyes went back to his face and he was looking at me with a furrowed brow.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not mad at you. You did what you had to do." I smiled a bit at him, hoping we could end this conversation soon so I could go back to my room and be alone.

"I also wanted to say thank you. You guys protected me, and you didn't have to. I'll never forget that." He grinned. "I'm gonna learn how to grow food with Vivienne. Negan even said we could build a greenhouse eventually!"

I opened my mouth to respond when the figure caught my attention again, and I watched over Danny's shoulder as it moved towards us. When I realized what I was seeing, I swallowed hard.

I had to be asleep.

This couldn't be real.

It stopped right behind Danny and peered down at me, but didn't speak. I felt like I needed to run, but I couldn't move.

Adam.

His skin was white and his eyes were wide. He had a scowl on his face as he looked down at me. Blood was pouring out the side of his head and down his face. He reached out a bloody, tattooed arm across the table to try and grab me. I winced and closed my eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Danny asked. I looked back and the ghostly Adam had disappeared.

I was hallucinating—I had to be. It was the overuse of the medication that was causing my nightmares to follow me even when I was awake. I glanced down to stare at the table, not knowing what to say to Danny. He probably thought I had lost my mind.

It certainly felt like that's what was happening.

"Do you know about what happened?" I asked in a quiet voice. I kept my eyes locked on Danny's face just in case any other ghosts decided to visit. If they did, I'd do my best to ignore them.

"Yeah. I don't know all the details, but I heard that there was a bad man that went into the school." He frowned at me and shook his head. "And that he was the one who did that to you." He gestured at my body.

"Amy said Negan brought him here…" I hoped Danny knew more about what happened. It had been days since anyone had mentioned Caleb, and I was curious to know about his fate.

"Yeah, he did. He's being held in the cells. Negan has been visiting him a couple times a day."

The cells.

Of course he would be keeping him there. I mentally cursed myself for not even considering the obvious. Part of me was hoping it wasn't true and that Caleb had been killed during the standoff.

I tried to conceal my eagerness to cut the conversation short and smiled kindly at Danny.

"We're safe now. And I forgive you."

He seemed to believe me. For what it was worth, it was true. I didn't hold it against him.

"Thank you, Elle." He grinned back at me. "Maybe I can make it up to you some day."

"You don't owe me anything." I stood up from the table and stretched a bit. The movement made my muscles ache and my cuts sting, but I tried to ignore it. I was already thinking about the next time I would take some pills.

"I need to get some rest, Danny. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay, Elle. I hope you feel better." Danny stood up too, and I turned to head out of the cafeteria. I acted like I was on my way back to my room, and waited for Danny to head back outside to join Vivienne and the others. Once he was out of sight, I headed to the stairwell and made my way to the cells.

The Sanctuary didn't exactly have a prison, but they had little rooms they used to keep people locked up in. I had spent an entire night in one when Negan had first brought me to the foundry. I glanced around the corners, hoping for the coast to be clear. Fortunately for me, no one was patrolling the halls.

Most of the doors lining the hallway were open and led into empty rooms, but one room towards the end of the hall was closed. I approached it slowly and noticed it was locked. I twisted the little knob, unlocking the door and hearing the sharp click. Very carefully, I pushed the door open to look inside.

The sight before me made my stomach churn.

Caleb was slouched on the floor directly across from the door. The light from the hallway illuminated his body just enough for me to see him—to see what was left of him.

He was covered in cuts just like me—his arms and legs had near identical marks carved into his flesh, but his wounds seemed worse than mine. They looked deeper.

There was blood everywhere—on the floor and on the walls of the room. A foul stench crept out into the hallway, making me gag.

The sound made Caleb slowly look up from where his body was hunched over.

Except it wasn't Caleb. Not anymore.

He had turned.

His eyes looked grey and glossy as we stared at one another. He let out a low growl, and I noticed his neck had also been cut same as mine. He started to move towards me, and my hand went to my knife that was sheathed in my belt.

Caleb's walker form started to get to its feet, and I took a step forward into the dark room. I pulled out my knife and crouched down next to him. With one quick motion, I stabbed his head, making his corpse collapse permanently.

I stared down at his body that was no longer a threat and the nausea I had already been experiencing became so much worse. Amy had told me he was being tortured, but I didn't expect it to be this cruel. Caleb looked much worse than I had, and I couldn't look away from the mangled body beneath me. The monster that had traumatized me was now dead.

"Well shit." A voice from outside the room made me look up in shock.

Negan was leaning against the door-frame watching me. I had no idea how long he had been there, but his presence made me feel uneasy.

"I was gonna make that fucker work out on my fence, but I guess that's out of the question now."

I stood back up carefully, clutching my knife in my hand.

"Why were you keeping a biter locked up?" I asked in a shaky voice. My head was throbbing and I felt faint. Whether it was the pills or the sight of Caleb, I wasn't sure.

"He wasn't a biter when I left him this morning." Negan sounded amused as he spoke. "I must have cut too deep when I slit his fucking throat."

"Did you drink his blood too?" I deadpanned.

A long silence grew between the two of us and I realized that Negan wouldn't have known about that little detail. No one knew that Caleb hadn't just cut me. He had ran his tongue along the open flesh of each wound.

"I might be into some kinky shit, but that's something even I'm not fuckin' into," Negan said. He sounded disgusted. I could only imagine he was staring at my cuts and picturing the awful things Caleb had done to me. I avoided his gaze and continued to stare down at the ground.

I couldn't look away from the body.

"You shouldn't be here," he stated. "You need to rest."

I nodded slowly and then pulled myself out of the trance I was in. I headed over to the door where Negan was still standing, but he didn't move out of the way. I took a deep breath, knowing he would want to talk. I wasn't feeling up for it, and suddenly needed to get the hell out of that room.

"How are you feeling?" He sounded so sincere—so caring. Usually I would have felt safe hearing him be so concerned, but I had once again witnessed the brutality that Negan was capable of.

I couldn't enjoy this like he was.

"It still hurts," I mumbled, rubbing at my arm.

"You need to make sure you're taking your meds," he said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face.

I couldn't look at him.

I was taking my meds, and then some.

It was clearly becoming a problem, but I knew I couldn't stop. I couldn't function without them. I was already craving another dose. He didn't care about the nightmares. He didn't need another reason to worry. I couldn't tell him about any of it.

"I am," I whispered, avoiding eye contact. I could feel his eyes studying me for a long time, and then he stepped out of the way. I started to head back down the hall when Negan's voice made me freeze.

"I made sure he suffered."

I didn't turn to face him. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Caleb was dead and would never hurt anyone again, but Negan had tortured him for days.

He had carved up Caleb to get revenge.

He had done this for me.

And yet, something felt so incredibly wrong about it.

After a few moments of standing still, I continued on my way back to my room without saying another word to Negan.

Maybe it should have been a comfort, or maybe I should have been disgusted by it.

But I wasn't sure how I felt.

I couldn't really feel anything.