A/N: Hello dear readers! Again, I am sorry for the wait but I am back with another chapter! I hope you'll enjoy as we delve into the inner workings of the Sanctuary some more in this chapter.
Thank you so much for all the follows and favorites. I really appreciate it. And thank you to Karen, Kylo Ren Emily Skywalker and Lyanna Star for reviewing. Your reviews made me really happy.


The morning proceeds uneventfully. After lunch, Jim is kind enough to show me the ropes in Sanctuary. He shows me where I can wash up. It's pretty ingenious, really. Living in a factory means there's an abundance of those blue plastic containers used for storing or transporting goods. They are versatile enough to be used for lots of things in Sanctuary. Once or twice a week, a couple of Saviors drive a bunch of those containers to a nearby pond. There are two wash rooms, one for men and one for women. And one for Negan and his harem, of course. The women's is on the first floor, whereas the men's is on the ground floor.

"Just... Go in groups okay? Not saying you're not safe here. It's just, some of these guys are downright creeps. The wash rooms are on different floors for a reason. Negan'll probably hear it if something's happening on the first floor."

"What does Negan do if some creep tries something?"

"You get fucking executed. He is strongly against sexual violence."

Wow. That is surprisingly civil of him. For someone who so readily uses violence to achieve his goals, I didn't expect him to be so opposed to sexual violence.

"So, 'Don't rape' is a strong rule within Sanctuary?"

"Yup. I'm glad."

That actually does make me feel a bit safer.

"What are Negan's other rules?"

"Anyone having an affair with one of his wives gets barbequed. You must have seen those guys with half their faces singed off," Jim grimaces, clearly uncomfortable. "Yeah, those are the guys who got caught. Usually, they are the boyfriends of Negan's wives. Or, ex-boyfriends. I don't know. Anyway, he does it with a hot iron, you know?" He shudders. I do too. Those men must have had to endure a lot: Having their girls taken away from them. Knowing they're with Negan. Then getting their face scorched for wanting those secret moments of love and comfort. Ugh. It makes me kind of want to feel bad for Dwight, if he weren't the same jackass that killed Denise.

"And lastly, don't hoard stuff. I heard some guy stuffed some goods in his pockets. Negan crippled him by ramming Lucille into his shins and left him to be eaten by the dead. Nasty, nasty business," he frowns. "That's all the rules I can think of." He whispers, "But Negan is known to kill for less."

I got that impression.

He's also fucked up my shoulder without inclination. For the shock factor, probably. The guy must have serious issues. I never even raided his freaking compound. I was at home, distracting Denise from worrying about Tara.

"Denise?" I say, rapping on her door. I push it open. "Carol gave me some cookies before she went. I thought we could eat them togethe-"

As I walk in, I shut my mouth.

Denise sits on the couch, her head in her hands.

"I didn't say goodbye," she says, her voice soft and fragile. "I didn't even tell her I loved her back."

"Oh, honey," I say, taking place on the couch next to her. I take her hand and squeeze it. "It's okay. She knows."

"She doesn't know what I don't tell her. I was stupid and scared," she says.

"There's nothing you can do about it now. You'll have to tell her when she gets back from the raid," I say tentatively.

"That won't be for two more weeks! She's going on that run with Heath. God, I'm so angry at myself!"

Shit. I forgot about that.

Trying to keep my calm, I say, "Then you'll tel her in two weeks. Now stop beating yourself up over it and eat these damn cookies with me. They aren't going to eat themselves."

She gives me a sad smile. "Okay."


At some point, Jim is called away by Carson to do some more important fetching than me, and I am left to wander Sanctuary on my own.

I have no idea what people do here in their free time. I don't have to work for points due to Negan's benevolent nature (ha-ha), so I guess I'll wander around for a bit, see what there is to do.

There's a group of guys lounging at the ping pong table, two of 'em playing a match. As I approach to watch for a bit, one of the guys lounging around the table starts wolf-whistling at me. "Hey babe. Stay for a bit and you'll see me beating these dumbfucks." He winks at me. I suppress the urge to throw up. Is this guy for real? They musn't have too many young women here that aren't Negan's wife...

I turn on my heel and walk the other direction. I hear the guy protest but I don't give a shit what he has to say, so I quicken my pace and try not to listen. Asshat.

There are some side rooms in this main hall that I intend to check out. One of them is the men's washroom. Others seem to be makeshift shops with Saviors selling various things for points. I approach the first of the shops slowly.

The salesman says hello. I say hello back, avoiding eye contact, instead taking a quick peek. I don't quite feel like striking up conversation with a Savior I don't know.

It's a weapons shop. Those blue plastic containers hold several types of guns. Pistols, snipers, semi-automatics and shotguns, though significantly more of the first. Other containers hold different types of ammo, and yet another holds knives in different shapes and sizes. The salesman is standing behind a table, on which a notebook lies open.

He sees my eyes on the notebook. "Do you want to take a look at the catalogue?" He asks. He doesn't sound friendly nor unfriendly. I nod.

The stock of weapons and their respective prices are scribbled down. The currency of points doesn't mean anything to me yet. I don't know if these amounts of points are many or little. When I have a little more understanding of the system, I'll probably find these guns outrageously expensive. Just a guess.

I say bye and walk over to the next shop. It contains clothing. I exchange greetings with the saleswoman of the clothing and ask for the catalogue. I look a bit more thoroughly at this one. The stock almost entirely exists of men's clothing. I sigh, looking down at my tattered black long-sleeved shirt. The left sleeve was destroyed by Lucille's angry little teeth. Maybe a small men's size will have to do, once I earn the points.

I even left my jacket in Alexandria. Maybe I can get it back when we're going there.

The third shop contains food and drinks. The snack type of food and cans of soda. I'm not really interested.

The fourth shop contains miscellaneous items. There are pillows, candles, stocks of cards and much more ramdom shit someone might have a use for.

Don't they have books somewhere around here? Seriously, books are the most underrated thing in the apocalypse. You can learn some first aid, how to build shit, how to grow crops. I don't get how everyone keeps scavenging food and never think to bring a book on how to grow food for a sustainable life. Admittedly, you'd have to have a safe, enduring community to be able to grow crops. I think Rick once mentioned them doing that in the prison the group stayed at for a while.

And I could do with some good fiction.

But, I guess as far as 'safe and enduring' goes, nobody is goddamn stupid enough to trample or steal Negan's crops. He'd probably use people who did that as fertilizer for the crops.

I walk away from the shop area and walk over to the one closed side door. Why is it that the one closed door is always so intruiging?

I decide to take a peek. I carefully push it open, and see a little hallway with a heavy looking door at the end. It is guarded by some rough looking Savior. I'm guessing front door. I quickly close this door before being noticed and accused of trying to escape. I don't really care for being locked in my room again.

Seeing as there is nothing to do, I decide on taking a nap. I walk up the stairs and retreat to my room, crashing on my bed and finding almost instant sleep. Being wounded is exhausting.


I am woken up by a knocking on my door. I slowly open my eyes to the obnoxious sound, to see Jimmy standing there with a tea towel with some new ice in there. I give him a sleepy smile.

"Thank you." I say while stretching.

"Sure." I roll my shoulder around slightly. It still feels as hell on earth and like I shouldn't be moving it, but it is unmistakably less swollen.

"I think the swelling went down." I say with mild surprise.

"Ah, that's great! Hey, dinner is being served in a minute."

And so we walk to dinner.

Once we got our meals (some weird kind of stew) and some prying looks from Carson, Jim and I take place at the table that is least occupied again.

"Did you do this before I was here too? Sit at the most empty table?" I ask around my stew.

"Yeah... They were all either too violent or too old."

I smile. "Wasn't I 'old' in your perception, too?"

He grins at me. "Ancient. But young enough to be able to talk to, anyway."

He holds his hand up and I high-five it. "See? A real old person would not have done that."

"Yeah, I almost got the urge to just stare at your hand too. You know, to let you have that moment of embarrassment."

I really like Jim. He makes me feel like I'm not a hostage, and like I'm not alone. I smile; I'm glad we befriended each other.

"What are you smiling at, you dork? Did the stew tell you a funny story?" Jim teases.

I snicker, "Yeah, it told me you have three nipples."

We make eye contact and burst into laughter.

When I hear boots approaching from behind, I know I shouldn't have made any noise. I just got lost in the normalcy of the moment, but I know Negan is coming now.

Next I know, I feel a hand on my injured shoulder. It doesn't just rest on it; it grabs it tight, threatening. I freeze completely in my movement.

Then, high and shrill, he whistles that creepy Saviors tune. More and more people join in. The sound of that collective whistle makes me tremble in fear.

Last time they did this, it didn't end all too well. Plus, it just sounds eerie as hell.

Negan suddenly further tightens his grip on the already aching shoulder and hauls me up from the bench in one movement. I can't help the yelp of pain that escapes my mouth. I clench my jaws as he drapes Lucille casually over my other shoulder. To the outsider, the action may look casual and insignificant, but I know exactly what he's doing. It's as if Lucille whispers in my ear, "You're Negan's. You're not going anywhere."

Why doesn't he just piss all over me while he's at it?

"Saviors, I got an announcement to make: This is our recently acquired member, Ellie."

I see numerous pairs of eyes looking up at me. And here I was, thinking I was doing well at not attracting attention. Fuck.

He gives my shoulder a dominant little squeeze. I think my head is going to explode from the pain in my shoulder, throbbing with my heartbeat. Spots dancing in front of my eyes.

"We are going to pay her old group a visit in a few days. Rick's group! You guys still know Rick right?"

They start laughing, yelling and slamming the tables.

"Anyways, can I get a big fucking hand tonight for the cook, Abby!" He gestures Lucille toward a middle-aged woman with mousy hair and a timid expression on her face. Everyone begins clapping and hooting. Man, these people are loud.

"Eat up, everyone!"

He takes his hand and Lucille off my shoulders, and I feel like I can breathe again.

From the corner of my eye, I see him lean in. His breath hot on my ear, he whispers, "You're welcome, now you don't have the arduous fucking task of introducing yourself to everybody." I wish I could just shove him away. His proximity is choking me.

Why does he keep implying that I owe him? He kidnaps me and I owe him. Right.

Though my appetite is gone due to the whole ordeal just now, I eat the rest of the stew. I need it to stay on my feet and get my shoulder to heal.

After a while, Jim whispers, "What did he say?" He looks scared.

I give him a faint smile. "That I should be grateful because now I don't have to introduce myself to everybody."

Jim snorts, relief clear in his eyes.

"You know, he told me earlier not to lock you up tonight anymore. Probably scared you'd throw some claustrophobic fit like the caged animal you are."

Hmm. Why would Negan do that? To show that he can be 'kind' and 'reasonable'? I'm not buying it. The wounds on my body don't really spell 'kind' and 'reasonable' to me.

"What does he want for it?"

"Nothing. He isn't a freaking demon, you know," Jim raises a brow at me. "He can be talked to. He can be reasonable. As long as you don't step out of line, you'll be fine."

Jim looks over his shoulders, and quietly murmurs, "Just don't fuck one of his wives, and you'll be fine."

I look at him in disbelief and start laughing. "I believe I got better things to do, Jim. Like staring at my bedroom wall."

Jim frowns, while laughing. "Maybe he is actually into that."

"What, me staring at my bedroom wall? Even he doesn't have that many problems."

"No, idiot. You fucking his wives."

I shake my head. "I don't want to know."


After dinner, everyone retreats to wherever for free time. I avoid the ping pong table like the plague. Seems like that's a hangout for the creepy guys, including Negan.

He is loudly proclaiming how he'll beat anyone who challenges him. His ego and dominance know no limits, do they?

I don't see a single freaking book around, either. Everyone is either playing ping pong, talking to each other, or doing god knows what else. I know it's not exactly a pressing problem, but I am bored out of my mind. Even Jim had to go again to talk some things through with Carson. Otherwise I'd bother him.

As such, I just decide to head up toward bed. As I am walking the stairs, I notice footsteps behind me. I subtly turn my head to look behind me and let out a breath of relief. It's not Negan. Instead, it's a young woman with brown hair, earrings and a pretty face. I've seen her earlier today. She's one of the wives.

"Hey!" She calls out. Her expression is kind, but... Strained, in a way.

I reach the first floor and slow down so she can catch up to me.

"Hey." She says again, slightly out of breath. "I'm Sherry." She extends her hand.

I hesitantly take it. "Ellie. But you know that."

"Yeah. I'm sorry you got hurt."

"It didn't just happen. Negan did that."

"He... He takes care of us. He's not always that bad." She says with a pleading face.

"Justify him all you want. He's terrible. Sleep well," I say flatly, before taking off toward my room.

"H-he could take care of you, too, you know! You're young, beautiful. It'd be a better life than working for points, trust me," she tries again, walking after me.

"Why do you care?"

Her face darkens for a moment. "Because you won't survive out there or in here on your own."

My stomach drops. I worry more about 'in here' than 'out there', but I don't show it.

"I think I'll take my chances."

"I'm sorry I can't convince you. Please tell me if you change your mind," she speaks with a sad smile.

I nod at her and walk to my room. I don't look back.


The next few days are uneventful. Negan leaves me alone, but I still feel his eyes in my back during meals. It is unnerving as hell.

Sherry keeps on trying to make eye contact but I won't have it. Did she really ask that of me on the first day? The more I think about it, the angrier I get. If she wanted to 'save' me, she should have gotten me out of here, instead of trying to serve me to Negan on a silver platter.

I realize how blessed I am to have met Jim before anyone else. He is my rock in this place. I have become quite fond of him after only a few days. He even brings me ice packs every meal. Over the course of these few days the swelling goes down so much that the icing becomes unnecessary.

I still take naps to make up for my restless night's sleep though. I can't be expected to sleep for eight hours straight in this hellhole.

I live toward every meal because that's about the only eventful thing in the day I got. In the afternoon I either hang with Jim when he's available or I browse the catalogues for interesting stuff they might have. They have like one book, and it's a children's book. I bet they took even that one by accident. But I read it. Anything to distract myself from the pain of my wounds or the impending visit to Alexandria.

I want to see them, I want to see their faces. But I'll be on the other side of it all.

Negan's side.