"Elle, wake up."

A stern voice startled me out of sleep, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it out. I was comfortable and didn't want to get up. Then I felt someone shaking me a bit and I opened one eye and looked up. Negan was dressed in his leather jacket and was standing next to my side of the bed. I smiled slightly and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, but Negan's expression was serious.

"Come on, get up," he said in a commanding tone. He walked around to the other side of the bed and headed towards the door. "I'm bringing you home."

My brows knit together in confusion as I tried to wake up and process what was happening.

He was bringing me back to Doveport? But why?

Last night I had come to him in the middle of the night unable to sleep, and then we….

I smiled and closed my eyes as I remembered the feeling of his lips and beard rubbing against my abdomen—his deep, yet tender kisses—the desire that blazed in his eyes when he looked at me.

I hadn't wanted it to end.

But when I saw A.J., I got scared. Negan put a stop to our fun, and afterwards I must have passed out. Now he was setting out clean clothes on the bed and he seemed impatient.

"Did something happen? Is everyone okay?" I asked concerned. He had always been so insistent that I stay at the Sanctuary, but now he seemed to be in a rush to get me home. Maybe something had happened at Doveport…

"They're all fine. You said you wanted to go home, so I'm bringing you home." Once again, his words had a bit of an edge to them, and I wondered why he was in such a bad mood. I couldn't help but think it had to do with something from the night before.

"Okay…" I studied him to try and figure out what his problem was and realized he was purposely not looking at me. He appeared irritated as he stood across the room, his body language was very tense. Instead of prying, I decided to do as he said and got up from the bed.

"The trucks are waiting, so make it fast." With that, he left the room. I stared at the closed door and blinked a few times, half expecting to wake up from this bizarre dream. I didn't understand why he was acting this way—why he was acting so cold.

A few minutes later, I was dressed in some dark jeans and a forest green racer back top, with my gun belt on as well. I didn't really have much I needed to bring with me; I put the folded picture of the ultrasound in my pocket and sheathed my knife and gun. I folded up my white blanket into a neat bundle, and then I was ready to go.

I headed down to where the trucks were parked outside and waiting. Negan was sitting in the passenger side of one of them, and a familiar Savior, whose name I did not know was behind the wheel. I opened the back car door and got inside, squinting at the back of Negan's head and wishing so badly I could read his mind.

A familiar black bag was thrown back and landed in my lap.

"You know the drill." His voice was low, and he didn't even look back at me. I sighed audibly and pulled the bag over my head. I really didn't know what his problem was, but at least I was headed home.

The drive felt longer than I remembered it; the silence that filled the car was heavy, and I felt like I couldn't breathe under the warm black bag covering my face. I tried to think of a reason for why he would be upset with me. Up until I saw A.J. the night before things had been good. The way Negan had looked at me was so full of passion that it made this current coldness sting even more than it usually would have.

When the car finally stopped, I took off the bag and looked out the front windshield.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, seeing the sight before me.

We were at the school, but clawing at the opaque metal gate were a group of walkers—there had to be at least fifteen of them. Negan's driver had parked a ways back, but a few of their decaying heads turned to look at the truck and then they started making their way to us.

"Stay in the truck," Negan addressed me, and gripped his baseball bat in his hand. His driver pulled out a long knife, and both men got out of the truck. I narrowed my eyes as I watched him bring the baseball bat flying into the side of a walker's head. He swung to hit a second walker, and his driver stabbed another through the side of the head.

Why did I have to stay in the truck when I was fully capable of helping? There was no way I was going to just sit there. Exiting the truck, I pulled my knife from its sheath against my leg and carefully approached an oncoming walker. I slid the blade through its yellowed face and watched it fall down right before me. Another stumbled towards me and growled, but I spun to face it and stabbed my knife up underneath its jaw. Its body crumbled to the ground, and I glanced over at the gate where there were still a group of walkers clawing.

"I told you to stay in the fucking truck!" Negan shouted from a few feet away. He had just finished killing a few more walkers and was kicking one of their corpses to the side and out of the way.

"I can help!" I called back. Our raised voices seemed to grab the attention of the walkers at the gate, and they all started to approach us. The driver, Negan and I easily killed those, and after a few minutes, all of the biters were truly dead. I wiped at my brow and the sweat that had formed there and leaned up against the stone wall that surrounded Doveport. Once it was apparent we were safe, Negan marched over to me, fuming.

"When I tell you to do something, you fucking listen! What the fuck were you thinking?" He towered over me, and I furrowed my brow at him and frowned.

"I figured it would go better with three people instead of two. I'm fully capable of killing walkers, Negan. I can handle it." I didn't understand why he was so angry with me for this and why he was treating me like this.

"Like hell you can! You still look like a fucking carving board." He gestured to my unbandaged scars and I glared up at him. I was really getting sick of the jokes about my scars, and usually I wouldn't have dwelled on it, but his anger and piss poor attitude made me think he was trying to get under my skin.

"What are you gonna do, Negan? Are you gonna burn my face?" I fired back. He continued to glare down at me. "What's the punishment for insubordination?"

"You're gonna find out real fuckin' fast if you keep this up." He took a step towards me, but I wouldn't let his tactics unnerve me.

"Well I'm home now, so you can leave." I pushed past him roughly and went back to the truck, reaching inside to grab my blanket. Once I had it, I approached the gate, banging on the metal loudly.

"Seriously? You're gonna get all pissy now?" Negan followed me over to the gate and stood behind me, and I did my best to ignore his presence. His driver went and got back into the truck, and I just wished Negan would go with him. After a few moments, the gate was pulled open and Ryan peeked his head out.

"Elle!" he said in surprise. He studied me for a few seconds and then looked at the bodies of all the walkers that were strewn everywhere. "Thanks for clearing them out. We've been trying to figure out how to get rid of them all day."

It was like Negan's bad mood had transferred over to me, and I walked past Ryan without greeting him.

"Close the gate," I ordered, knowing full well Negan intended to follow me.

"Keep it open," Negan barked, right on my heels. I started to head towards the school, and the lack of metal moving said that Ryan was listening to Negan and not me. That pissed me off even more.

"Stop!" Negan growled, reaching out to grab my arm, but I pulled away and continued storming up to the school. "Get back here!" he shouted.

I threw the front doors to the school open and they banged loudly. Amy and Eric both came out of their bedroom with warm smiles, but they soon changed to looks of concern once they saw my face and the way Negan was stomping after me. I walked past both of them into my bedroom and went to close the door in his face, but Negan grabbed it and held it open. Behind him I could see the others had gathered to see what the commotion was about—Vivienne and a few others had joined Amy and Eric in the hall.

"Will you just go?!" I threw the blanket onto my bed, wanting so badly to shove him out. "I don't know what your problem is, but I'm not some delicate flower just because I have some scars now."

Negan slammed my door, shutting me inside with him and cutting off our conversation from the people in the hall. He was still holding his barbed wire bat in his hands that was caked in walker guts.

"If you hadn't become a fucking addict in the last weeks, I wouldn't have to treat you like you're ready to fall apart at any given fuckin' moment," he growled.

"Well I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up. I didn't mean to be such a burden on you." My mocking tone only seemed to egg him on.

"Maybe I should have fucked you last night. Then you wouldn't be acting so uptight," he sneered.

"I'm acting uptight? You're the one who's been a dick to me all day long. If anyone needed to get fucked last night, it's you. You should have just gone to one of your wives if you needed it so goddamn bad."

"Yeah, you're right. I should have. They'd probably be much better than you."

Our pissing contest was getting out of hand; our voices were raised so high that I knew the other Doveporters had to have heard us, but I didn't care. I wanted to get to him the same way he got to me.

So I narrowed my eyes at him and a sinister smile crept onto my face.

"Are they better than Lucille?"

Mentioning her name made Negan's already dark expression somehow turn even darker. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched.

"Don't bring her into this," he warned in a cold voice.

"What would she say about you being with so many women? Or have you always been a 'more than one woman type of guy'"?

"Knock it the fuck off!" he yelled, taking a step towards me. I was hitting a nerve, and so I kept on hitting.

"Did she like to share, too? Or did you keep your infidelity from her? Did you cheat on her, Negan?"

His eyes were filled with rage and the smile faded from my lips as I leaned towards him with a serious expression.

"Did she know she wasn't enough for you?"

Negan's knuckles turned white against the bat, and he brought it right up by my face. The stench of decay filled my nose, and I flinched as he held it before me in a threatening gesture. My eyes grew wide as he leaned in close so his face was mere inches from mine; his demeanor was suddenly eerily calm, which made him appear even scarier than before.

"I should have left you with Caleb."

It took a little bit for what he said to absorb. I had been so intent on pushing him that I hadn't expected him to push back. But once I processed it, my mind went straight back to being in the room I was now standing with him in—being held against my mattress as a knife was used to slice against my skin. I remembered how Negan had been the only hope I had to get me through it. I was relying on him to save us—to save me.

What if Negan had never come back for us?

His words stung—he was basically saying he wished I was dead.

He continued to loom over me, waiting for me to say something. I swallowed hard and finally averted my eyes, suddenly feeling the urge to cry.

Was that really how he felt?

I closed my eyes and wished he would just disappear. I had thought there was something between us, but now he was treating me like crap. Perhaps I had assumed too much of our relationship. Perhaps because I hadn't slept with him the night before, Negan was truly done with me. A lot of things went through my mind as to why this was happening, but regardless of his reason, Negan didn't care about me.

I was just another problem on his list.

When I opened my eyes and found him still staring at me with a look of disgust I felt my heart leap into my throat. I wished I could walk away, but this was my bedroom and he was the one that needed to leave. I took a deep breath and averted my eyes from his harsh gaze.

"We haven't been able to get you anything good supply wise." My voice was barely audible, so I cleared my throat and continued in a slightly louder tone. "If all we've done is cause problems, then maybe you should just let us go."

He didn't say anything for a very long time, but I could feel his eyes on me. I stared at the bloody barbed wire on the bat and waited for him to respond.

But he didn't respond. Without saying another word, Negan turned away from me, opened the door, and left.

I stood there shocked, with my fists clenched at my sides. After a few long moments, the bedroom door opened again, but this time Amy stepped in.

"Elle?" she asked, unsure. "Are you okay?"

I hadn't realized I was crying until I looked up at Amy's worried expression. I forced a tight-lipped smile at her.

"Yeah, I'm good." I sniffled and wiped at my face.

I don't think either one of us really believed that.

Doveport welcomed me back with open arms. I learned that while everyone was staying at the Sanctuary, Negan's men tended to the garden to keep it watered and well kept. Vivienne was grateful, as she was able to continue with her plants. We still had food to eat, and now that Negan wasn't demanding an offering, we had even more than usual.

A few people asked questions about my addiction, including Vivienne who inquired if I had really been rehabilitated. I told her it didn't really matter. It wasn't like I had access to the pills anymore, and I had absolutely no idea where the Sanctuary was. In truth, I still thought about them occasionally, but I was just happy to be at home. Vivienne made me promise that I would talk to her next time before resorting to such things.

A week went by and Negan did not return to Doveport. The first couple days I was glad; I didn't want to see him after our fight. His comment about leaving me with Caleb continued to play like a track on repeat, and it infuriated me. But as the days continued on, it became apparent he wasn't going to come back. With each day, I felt less angry and more guilty for bringing up his wife. It had been a low blow, and I wasn't exactly innocent in our little fight.

I realized that if Negan didn't return, I had no way of finding him to apologize.

Another week passed and everyone came to the same conclusion: Negan was done with Doveport. In a way, things almost felt normal again… or as normal as they could be in an apocalypse. It was just like when Amy, Eric and I had come to the school, except Philip, Seth, John, and Minnie were dead, and I had scars covering my entire body.

The other Doveporters stared at me a lot, but they didn't ignore me and were still very kind to me. It felt good to be back with them inside our walls, but I couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

It was the middle of the day and I was helping Amy furnish her and Eric's bedroom. There were plenty of arts and crafts inside the classrooms, and we were using them to create handmade decorations. The colorful paper was folded and cut out to look like animals. It wasn't much, but it was our way of welcoming our new, little community member.

I was using scissors to cut through some pink paper and Amy was taping something on the wall when she cleared her throat to speak.

"Do you think Negan will come back?"

I winced as she said his name—I had been trying to keep my mind off him ever since our ugly fight, and I knew she was asking what everyone else was thinking. Still, he was the last topic I wanted to discuss, even if I was wondering the same thing.

I let out a sigh and set the scissors down.

"I don't know, Amy."

Amy nodded and picked up a little purple paper elephant to tape on the wall.

"I don't like him, but I can't hate him," she said simply, her back facing me. "He saved all of us, and he took care of us for so long. I just feel like there's two sides to him, you know?"

"I don't want to talk about him." My tone was a little more harsh than I intended and Amy turned to me. She gave me a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

I avoided eye contact and picked up the scissors to cut out a little horse. We hadn't really talked much in recent days and it was my fault. I had shut down after Negan left because I was afraid to discuss what happened. I didn't want it to be real—my feelings for him and the fact I was the one who had pushed him away.

After a few minutes of silence, Amy came over to help me cut out more animals from the paper. She sat down on a little chair at the table and ran a hand through her red hair that she was wearing down instead of her usual ponytail.

"She's kickin' the shit outta me," she said with a small smile. I looked up at her stomach. "I'm nervous about giving birth without Dr. Carson. Makes me kind of regret leaving the Sanctuary a little bit," she admitted while rubbing her extended belly.

"It's gonna be okay," I reassured her.

"I know. But just in case it's not, promise me you'll do everything you can to save the baby."

"Amy, don't think about stuff like that." I looked at her sternly and at what she was implying. I knew we'd have to face her going into labor soon, but I was continously telling myself everything was going to go smoothly.

"Promise me, Elle. I want her to have a chance. I don't care if you have to cut her out of me… you do what's best for my little girl."

"It won't come to that," I said, shaking my head. I didn't want to face the idea of something so horrible, or of losing my best friend.

Just as I finished speaking, Eric came into the room in a bit of a rush. Amy and I looked up at him curiously.

"There's people at the gate," he informed us, a grim expression on his face. Amy glanced at me and we exchanged worried looks.

The last visitors we had nearly killed all of us.

We all headed outside and I could see Ryan standing by the closed gate. He also looked very concerned. I glanced down at my weapons holster to make sure my gun was there. This time I wouldn't hesitate to use it. I nodded at Ryan, signaling that it was okay for him to open the gate.

As the metal door was pulled open, I was met with a man that was standing right in front of me. He was tall and looked like he was in his mid to late thirties. He had short brown hair that was shaved in a buzz cut and neatly trimmed facial hair. He was wearing a green military jacket, and over his shoulder was a black strap that connected to an assault rifle. He gave me a friendly smile.

"Hello." He had a deep voice, and his entire demeanor was extremely relaxed. I studied him for a few seconds, and then I looked over his shoulder. Behind him there were five cars parked down the road from the entrance to the gate. I couldn't see how many people were with, but it was enough to be off-putting.

"Can I help you?" I asked, placing a hand on the gate. Ryan had only opened it just enough for me to greet the newcomer, but not enough for him to step through. I noticed he was trying to check out the school behind me.

"You have a really good setup here," he said, studying the stone wall. My heart rate increased as I watched him. It was like I was being transported back in time to when Caleb came to us asking for help.

It was all an act, and I wouldn't fall for it again.

My left hip was out of sight from the man behind the gate, and I let my hand rest over my gun that was holstered there, preparing to remove it if need be.

"Do you need something?" I asked very blatantly.

He laughed a bit and reached up to scratch his head.

"I'm certainly not here to borrow sugar. I mean.. Well…maybe I am. I'm here to trade supplies. We're looking for other communities to work with, and I heard you guys are good people."

I narrowed my eyes at him. He had 'heard we're good people'? From who?! The only group that knew we existed was Negan.

Unless Caleb's group was bigger than we thought…

"Are you gonna let me in?" he asked, leaning forward a bit. "I promise I don't bite."

"We don't have anything to trade," I said sternly, still peering at him.

"Oh, come on. We both know that's not true." The man gave me a judgmental look and then placed his hand on the gate. Time almost slowed as he went to pull it open. Before he could, I removed my ruger and pointed it right at his forehead.

He froze, and then slowly lifted his hands up. He stared in shock as I pressed the barrel of the gun into his head. I was considering pulling the trigger when a voice rang out and made me look up.

"Elle, don't!"

I could see someone get out of one of the cars behind the man. They came rushing over to where we were standing at the entrance of the school. I stared in confusion, not knowing if I could trust myself and what I was seeing. As they approached, my grip on the Ruger didn't falter, and I addressed the familiar face.

"Charlotte?"