AUTHOR'S NOTES - I want to thank a guest reviewer for leaving such a nice review! That was such a nice thing to say. I wish I could thank you personally but I guess dedicating this chapter to you will just have to do. Again, thank you so much for your words! It always means so much to me.

Chapter 4

December 25, 2013

Christmas morning never seemed as bleak as it did that day. Hilltop remained peaceful but they had been gone from Sanctuary too long. Sherry knew that Dwight already felt bad for leaving Miguel in charge for as long as he did. However, he offered that Sherry could stay in Hilltop if she wanted to in order to spend time with Ashlyn's baby. Sherry turned it down and reminded him that they would be back in a couple of days for Noelle's baptism that they, as godparents, needed to be present for anyways. She had a job to get back to in Sanctuary and she admittedly put it on hold.

There was a cold layer of fresh snow that laid on the ground. The atmosphere itself was joyful in the small community as children played with their new toys that were looted from nearby stores. It wasn't often that scavenging was dedicated to presents or recreational uses and because money was no longer an object, some were able to give presents to their children that they wouldn't have been able to before the world ended.

Sherry watched the kids play in the foyer beside the large Christmas tree as they shared their new racetracks or dolls. Even though Jenna just celebrated her fourteenth birthday, she also received a couple of presents and sat beside Carl as they both listened to music from an iPod that Kevin and Yolanda gave her. While sitting on the stairs, Sherry had tea in hand while letting the happiness in the air reverberate through her. She hoped that feeling would stick as they went back to Sanctuary; even if the place usually filled her with dread the second that they drove through the wretched gates.

"Aunt Sherry," a sweet voice said as Sherry saw Judith walk up the stairs with a new book in hand. She beamed up towards her but then focused on the steps as her thumb stuck out in concentration. Once she reached Sherry, Judith sat down and placed the book on Sherry's lap.

"You want me to read this to you?" Sherry asked while opening up to the first page.

Judith nodded enthusiastically as Sherry opened her mouth to read the first word. Just then, Amber appeared on the other side of the bannister with backpack in hand. Looking to be under a lot of stress, she walked towards the stairs with shoulders slumped and her head down. As Amber turned the corner, she saw Judith and Sherry sitting on the steps while Sherry scooted Judith closer to her so Amber could pass.

"You alright?" Sherry asked.

"Whatever," Amber mumbled in exasperation but peered up at Sherry with apology. "I just don't want to talk about it. That's all."

"Sounds fine to me," Sherry said while not necessarily wanting to know the latest drama that revolved around Amber and Mark. For some reason, their love story took a turn for the worst. The seeds were planted for disaster as poor Mark had a difficult time being accustomed to the large red scar on his face while Amber found it burdensome to hear his complaints about it all. Sherry understood to an extent. More so because Dwight's scar was a searing reminder of something that she did to hurt him. She wasn't grossed out by it and even thought Dwight wore it well. He didn't particularly care what the scar did to his personal looks. It was his confidence that made him attractive to her. He started out attractive before the scar so it was almost as if his previous injury was of minor consequence.

Amber stepped down the stairs while Sherry watched her with concern then shrugged towards Judith to lighten the mood. Sherry then opened the book up again and started to read.

...

"You sure that you have to leave so soon?" Ashlyn asked as Dwight and Mark loaded the sleigh up for their trip back to Sanctuary.

Sherry looked at her with a tinge of sadness as she didn't want to leave either. Reluctantly, both her and Dwight had important jobs to do. They just hoped that Sanctuary was still in one piece by the time they returned. "I wish we could stay longer," Sherry confessed. "But we'll be back in a couple of days for Noelle's baptism and your wedding. I promise."

"You better," Ashlyn remarked and gave a tight embrace to Sherry. "I love you so much. Please let Mrs. Stapleton know that we love the hat that she crocheted for Noelle."

"I will," Sherry replied warmly. "And I love you too."

…

"Goodbye, Barb," Amber said while over exaggerating her friend's fairly new name.

"Stop saying it like that," Christy teased through gritted teeth but held Amber's cheek. "I'm going to miss having someone around to joke with."

Amber stuck out her tongue in response then looked to Megan who was saying her goodbye to Sherry. When Amber and Megan made eye contact, Megan's face turned the color of a beet as she stepped towards the mansion like the exchange didn't happen at all.

Taking care of collateral damage, Amber walked behind her and grabbed the fabric of her coat firmly. "No goodbye for me?" She asked.

"I…" Megan began but looked confused and almost as if she was about to cry from the confrontation.

Amber paused but then took a step closer to her friend and lowered her voice. "What you saw last night… it isn't what it looked like."

"Okay," Megan answered quickly as if she just wanted the conversation to be over. Knowing Megan to be a reserved person, Amber knew she should just let it go because Megan was more than likely never going to talk about it to anyone.

"Can I just say something?" Megan inquired while making eye contact. "I thought about it all night."

Fuck, Amber thought but nodded her head.

"Amber…" Megan started. "Not a day goes by where I don't think about Takuya and what could have been. Time is valuable with the people that we spend it with. We all deserve a chance to be happy."

Amber smiled while taking Megan's message as approval for her situation. "Thanks, Megan, I'm glad to hear you think that."

Megan put her mouth in a tight line and tilted her head towards Mark's direction. "I wasn't talking about you and Heath, Amber."

The words hit Amber harder than she thought they would. She turned to see Mark loading some provisions in the back of the sleigh. He didn't have an air of joy about him. To Amber, he looked utterly miserable. Mark had been her person for almost eight years. He never left her side through the bad moments and she felt guilty for mentally throwing the towel in without giving him any kind of explanation. A tear fell down her face as she nodded to Megan that what she said would be taken to heart and handled delicately.

…

Sherry gave a hug to Christy then leaned in to whisper in her ear. "How was your walk last night with Rick?" She inquired.

Christy gave a demure grin and started giggling. "I would be lying if I said anything happened," she admitted. "This guy moves slow. But I think that's what I need right now anyways."

"Seems like you guys had a good time though," Sherry said with encouragement.

"Yes, we did," Christy said with a fond smile.

Sherry gave her another tight hug then started walking towards the sleigh when finished with her goodbyes. Farewells with Terri's family & Yolanda's family were said in the house as she was glad for the time with them. However, she strongly disliked her vacation coming to an end.

Dwight waited next to the horses as she used the coachman's step to climb up to the front seat. As Dwight rechecked the reins to see if they were tight enough, he glanced up to Sherry with a raised eyebrow. "Gonna keep me company up there?" He inquired.

Sherry nodded and leaned down to talk in a hushed tone. "I don't think the rest of our group is in much of a talkative mood."

Dwight glanced over to Mark and Amber who were already in the sleigh with arms folded while giving each other the silent treatment. He rolled his eyes then handed Sherry the reins as he climbed up to sit beside her. Once he settled in his spot, he then stared at her expectantly and nodded towards the reins.

"What? Want me to drive?" Sherry asked.

"You never have," Dwight said with a smile. "I think you should try."

"Alright," Sherry said and held the reins with more purpose. Then whipped them ever so lightly. "Go?"

The horses surprisingly moved from the action as Dwight chuckled. "Yeah, that was beginners luck. We have to work on that delivery."

People still waited in front of the mansion and waved them off. Christy held Judith up as they both said their goodbyes out loud towards their group. Dwight waved back for both him and Sherry so she could continue to concentrate while she tried to steer the horses towards the front gates of Hilltop. He watched and became more impressed as Sherry was able to get the horses to turn the direction that she wanted them to go.

Sherry gave him a wink. "I've just been observing you the last couple of times," she confessed. "I'm just mimicking."

"You're a natural," Dwight praised and placed his hand behind her back. She was glad for the distraction. Their destination wasn't optimal and it placed a downer on Sherry's day overall. But she could conclude that the trip wouldn't be so bad at least.

…

December 26, 2013

They reserved car fuel whenever they needed it the most. With travels that required extra loads such as ammunition or other goods with a heavy load, they used the trucks. Dwight admittedly was going to miss when fuel was useless. They already made use of other resources when it came to water heaters and switched stoves to be electric as each community was either powered by solar panels or dams. However traveling by horse from community to community was a much slower option and trucks would be very much missed and he knew it was only a matter of time.

The one resource that Sanctuary asked for over everything else was ammo. It was still much needed as they continued to fight the exiled Saviors. Because of the demand, Dwight made it a requirement that some of his men were at the ammunition factory and putting in the work. They weren't able to give much to the communities but being called a mooch was something that he didn't want to happen. His men would at least earn what they took.

Dwight drove towards the ammo factory with Miguel and several other men in tow that would start their shift under Eugene's supervision. The ride was still slow as the truck plowed some snow away and off to the side. The other men were in the back of the truck while Dwight and Miguel sat in the front. Dwight was having minor deja vu of him and Takuya driving a truck in snow and swerving off the highway in the process. Luckily, a lot of things were different. He at least trusted some of the men that sat in the truck bed behind him in case they fell into a tricky situation. Only some.

"You going to eat that?" Miguel inquired as he pointed to some eggs on a paper plate that rested on the dashboard. Dwight intended to eat it on the go but was concentrating too much on the road to pay it much attention.

"Nope," Dwight replied. "All yours."

"Nice," Miguel exclaimed and immediately sat the paper plate on his lap. "What's the plan today?"

"Drop these guys off, scavenge a bit, then get back to Sanctuary to make some tactical plans," Dwight disclosed then looked to Miguel briefly before focusing on the road once more. "You said that there weren't any attacks while we were gone?"

"Not a one," Miguel promised while his mouth was full of food. "You think something's up with that?"

"There has to be," Dwight said while in thought. "It's been too quiet after they attacked us last time. It has been one hard hit after another then nothing?"

"Could be rallying more walkers on their side?" Miguel asked. "Maybe the cold weather is making it harder to find a herd?"

"Possibly," Dwight replied glad that they were trying to think of all the options. Something still didn't feel right to him. He didn't know what the exiled Saviors were going to plan next. One thing he did know for sure is that the men they fought against knew too much about Sanctuary's weaknesses. They knew where most of the booby traps were near the front entrance and already destroyed them.

As much as Dwight understood Rick's reasoning to not kill and his encouragement for Sanctuary to do the same, Dwight couldn't agree with him. To not kill was crippling Sanctuary in the long run. They needed to fight back. More importantly, they needed to kill before exiled Saviors were given the chance to fight back.

Many things that Dwight did as a leader went under Rick's nose. He didn't intend for Rick to know any of the things he did. He had no trouble justifying his actions but they did go against what the communities stood for as a whole. If Dwight was punished for it, so be it.

…

Sherry walked up the steps to the Stapleton house with homemade cookies in hand that Carol had given her the day they left Hilltop. With too many things going on the day before, she didn't have time to visit them and thought to do it the day after when she had more time on her hands.

With only so many civilians living in Sanctuary, they all become accustomed to each other's schedules and how each person worked. If they didn't have the trouble of dealing with exiled Saviors every other day, Sherry could see Sanctuary easily fortify. It was their other problems that arose caution and ceased any wanted progress.

So it was slightly unusual when Sherry knocked on their door that morning to discover no answer. As Sherry knocked on the door again several hours later, she waited to hear footsteps within the house but heard nothing. In between the two visits, she already asked around to see if others saw the Stapleton's in recent memory to which they replied that they hadn't seen them at all.

Sherry's suspicions were already on high alert. She knocked on the door once more then peered through their living room window. Nothing moved in the house. Becoming concerned, she opened the front door, walked inside, then immediately stepped back outside when a familiar yet potent smell entered her nostrils; that smell was rotting flesh.

She stayed on the front porch and put the cookies on the stairs as she knew she had to observe on a closer scale. Either of the Stapleton's could have been in pain or still in danger. Sherry understood by the smell that it was likely more that they were dead.

Reaching behind, she produced her glock just in case she encountered reanimated versions of the Stapleton's. Sherry re-entered the home and put the crook of her elbow over her nose as she inched inside the house.

"Mr. & Mrs. Stapleton?" Sherry called out as she still left the possibility of at least one of them still being alive and in grave danger. With her gun in hand, she walked slowly into the living room to see nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It appeared somewhat dusty and Sherry knew Mrs. Stapleton to be a tidy person. Sherry then glanced up to the kitchen and saw the first scene of a struggle. There was a wooden chair on its side and as Sherry got closer to the room, she could see blood splattered onto the kitchen cabinets and floor. When Sherry stepped just before the threshold, she then saw signs of whoever the blood belonged to being dragged into what she knew was the Stapleton's pantry.

Cocking her gun, she stepped over the chair and the now dried blood as she closed in on the spot. With one hand on the pantry door, she stood at the ready. Whatever was beyond that door, Sherry would be prepared for it. In one swift move, she opened the door, aimed her gun, and stopped at the sight before her. In the pantry was Mr. & Mrs. Stapleton. Gun wounds to their heads, they laid inside the large pantry beside each other. It was evident by the signs in the kitchen that it wasn't a suicide. Someone did it to them. There was no way either elderly person could drag the other into the pantry. That and there wasn't blood spattered in the pantry to indicate that was how the other ended their life.

Looking for more clues, Sherry gazed around the rest of the space to see more blood stains that showed another body was dragged into the pantry. She walked towards the hallway behind the kitchen and beside the pantry to see where the source came from. She stepped above the stains but stopped when she first stepped into the hallway then turned around to see the kitchen. She was searching the scene from the point of view of the shooter. Observing the turned over chair and the blood on the wall behind it, she could presume the killer was standing exactly where she was at the time of either Mr. & Mrs. Stapleton's death. She then glanced into the hallway to see that it was probable the murderer shot both of them without taking any other steps.

The next step was to search for any other hints towards figuring out who the murderer was. Sherry stayed in her spot while already used to the smell of death around her. There was a closed door next to where she stood and then she opened it to see one bullet shell on the floor of the extra bedroom in the Stapleton's home. She picked it up and examined it as she heard a floorboard creak behind her.

"Jesus Christ…" she heard as she stood up and pointed her gun towards Mark who was looking inside the pantry with disgust. Mark instantly put his hands up at the sight of Sherry and stared at her with alarm. "Jesus Christ!"

Sherry made a face and put the gun down when she mentally processed who it was. She lowered her gun and uncocked her weapon. Placing it back where she had it before, she nodded to the pantry. "No one saw the Stapleton's all of yesterday and today. I thought I would stop by to see if they were okay."

"Evidently, they've been better," Mark stated while glancing towards the dead couple once more. "Murdered?"

"Oh yeah," Sherry said leaving no room for him to question it. "I don't understand. Why kill these guys? Out of all the people to kill…"

"Like Dwight?" Mark thought out loud. "I swear, any person before they defect wants to have Dwight's head for a prize."

"That's disconcerting," Sherry muttered but brought the shell up to her eye line to observe it once more. ".357 Magnum…" Sherry thought to herself then looked to Mark. "Do we have a list of weapons that are being used by each fighter currently?"

"We try and keep it accurate, yes," Mark answered. "I can tell you now that .357 Magnums are not made as much at the ammunition factory. There are only maybe ten men and women that use that kind of bullet in Sanctuary."

"That makes my job easier," Sherry responded then looked to Mark as she started walking outside. "Let's keep this between us for now. I'm going to talk to everyone and just let them know that we are updating the list of weapons being distributed. We'll make small talk to try and gauge some alibis. If anyone says anything remotely suspicious, we'll ask them more specific questions regarding what happened with the Stapleton's."

"And what about Mr. and Mrs. Stapleton?" Mark questioned as he closed their front door behind him.

"We'll bring them justice first and a funeral later," Sherry stated in a low voice so no one else could overhear them. "For now, we don't want to appear out of the ordinary and we don't want whoever did this to think that we are suspicious of any foul play."

"And what happens when we find the person who did it?" Mark asked while trailing her.

"Leave Dwight to figure out the rest when he gets back," Sherry responded and walked towards Dwight's house where they kept any kind of records, stored weapons, or other goods. She was determined to figure out who the killer was so people like the Stapleton's didn't have to be threatened anymore. For Sanctuary to continue, order had to exist and murderers had to be punished. She was determined to do just that.

…

They dropped off the men to work at the ammunition factory as they picked up more casings to have in their next impending battle. As usual, Eugene practically ignored Dwight upon his arrival and went straight to his work. Even though Eugene had helped Dwight in the past and vice versa, there was still an underlying animosity between the two. However, Dwight didn't particularly mind as he found Eugene's small talk to be grating anyways.

When they finished at the ammunition factory, Dwight and Miguel drove to a downtown area of a small college city that was fifteen minutes away from Sanctuary. Dwight liked to frequent the area because it was a place to find rare items that were useful to trade. During his occasional downtime that he had, he liked to collect some findings that he brought with him from scavenging. It was a hobby that he very much needed in the midst of all the craziness.

"Oh, Christmas tree! Oh, Christmas tree!" Miguel started faintly singing behind Dwight but then mumbled the other words when he couldn't think of the correct lyrics. They walked on the sidewalk beside the stores as Dwight peered into the stores to see if anything unusual had changed since the last time that he was there. "Want to know what I had for Christmas dinner, boss? A can of expired refried beans. Yeah, if it doesn't sound good, it's because it wasn't."

"I didn't know about the party at Hilltop, Miguel," Dwight said sympathetically. "If I would have known, I would have made an announcement or something."

There was quiet as Miguel thought of what to say. "Meh, I wouldn't have blamed you if you chose not to say anything anyways. Honestly, I think I would have been the only person that came out of all our troops."

Dwight sighed and stared at Miguel. "I need to keep telling our guys that the other communities aren't harboring any bad feelings. They are more than welcome to move, go to parties, anything they want."

"Yeah, I think they feel bad still," Miguel replied. "We killed a lot of their crew. They killed a lot of us. You sure there isn't bad blood there?"

"Haven't felt that way with most," Dwight answered but then thought of the few that moved to the Kingdom just to see him less frequently. "I think future actions will count more from here on out. It's important that we just stick with building Sanctuary so they can depend on us just as much as we depend on them."

"I hope it works," Miguel said but smiled. "That was my hope when I heard someone went against Negan in the first place. Had to jump on the opportunity to get on a better side."

Dwight then stepped into a store and knocked loudly with his fist on the cashier's counter to see if any walkers came into view. They both stayed quiet as they waited while Dwight scoped his favorite spot that wasn't within community walls. Satisfied with the quiet, he stepped away from the counter and towards the displays as he walked to the spot that he finished his search the last time he was there.

"I'm going to try and find some video games in the back, okay?" Miguel said and already started walking towards the back door.

Dwight waved him off and continued his search. The store they looted was an entertainment store that Miguel and Dwight often went to and used the items to trade. Dwight was surprised at how many people cared to listen to old albums or movies when they all had so much to worry about. However, he thought of his own reasoning's for want of amusement and knew others needed a break from the monotony. Memories of a better life was sometimes crucial for their present.

He scrolled through the vinyl albums and would pick out the ones that anyone had requested from him or would take some for his own personal stash that he had collected. He sometimes got both CD's and vinyl of the same album so he could put them on an iPod that he had already looted several months before.

Dwight saw the album titled You Don't Mess Around With Jim as he scanned the song titles on the back. When he saw that Operator (That's Not the Way it Feels) was on the line-up, a small smile crept on his face as he remembered Sherry enjoyed the music of Jim Croce and placed it in the pile of music that he would take back to Sanctuary.

…

They went back into the truck as Dwight heard static from the dashboard intercom. Both Miguel and Dwight unloaded their trivial findings in the back of the truck as Dwight placed his more precious items in the hump seat between both parties. Once he turned on the car, he reached for the speaker and brought it to his mouth.

"This is Dwight," he said while hoping it wasn't another attack while he was away.

"Dwight," he heard Sherry say almost immediately as she sounded somewhat troubled. The tone in her voice didn't strike him as being rushed but he still wanted to know what seemed to be the problem.

"Sher, what's going on back home?" Dwight said into the intercom.

"It's the Stapleton's," Sherry answered gravely. "They were murdered in their house."

"Holy fuck," Miguel muttered with a groan.

"You know for sure that they were murdered?" Dwight questioned. They were an older couple. Dying of old age was a logical conclusion to jump to.

"Already got a confession from Bob," Sherry replied. "We're holding him at the courthouse until you get a chance to talk to him."

Dwight shook his head in disbelief as he and Miguel both exchanged looks of dismay. "Alright, I'll talk to him the second that I get back." He placed the intercom speaker into its holding place then let out a groan. "Jesus, it's a never ending cycle with these guys."

"With every person that we kick out, the more manpower the exiled Saviors have," Miguel said and gave Dwight a knowing look. "Rick's rules or not, we're kind of at war, boss. Giving those guys an army isn't helping our situation."

…

Sherry twiddled her thumbs as she waited in the courthouse hallway beside the room where Bob was being held in. When going over who owned what kind of weapon, they came upon Bob who was walking around the backyard of the Stapleton's. Mark seized him when Bob started to run while Sherry peered beyond the walker-riddled fence to see a man booking it away from Sanctuary. They didn't need to question him much on anything. They already had the answers that they needed.

She sat on the floor and waited for Dwight to make his way back to their dysfunctional home. Despite finding the killer merely two hours after they set out to do so, Sherry was disheartened at the lack of commitment from more than half of Sanctuary to be a true community. They didn't necessarily have manpower on their side to really step up and make the difference that they wanted to.

Sounds emerged from the staircase as Sherry glanced towards the hallway entrance to see Dwight, Miguel, and Mark starting towards her. Dwight's attitude seemed grave but when he got to her, he still gave her a light kiss on the head and a hand on her back in greeting.

"Mark told us what happened on our way up here," Dwight started then nodded to the door. "He's in there?"

Sherry nodded. "Dwight, he can't leave here. We saw an exiled Savior speaking to him from the other side of the fence. He knows information and has been planning to sabotage us from the inside."

"I know a thing or two about that," Dwight gruffed in response referring to his own time being a double agent.

She stared intently at him to make sure that he was listening to her words carefully. "We need to send a message to them and anyone else who is trying to expose us...domestically."

"I hear ya," Dwight said quietly and looked to her hopefully. "I'll take care of it."

"I know you will," Sherry responded with confidence but was saddened that he had to do what needed to be done. In the end, they needed a fighting chance to survive. Not just as a community but the people within the community needed to be protected.

…

They spent more than an hour questioning Bob about his involvement with the exiled Saviors. For the whole time, he stayed mum on the subject with a smug look on his face. It nearly drove Dwight made as he only wanted to punch that pretentious face of his. When it appeared as if the conversation wasn't going to way he wanted it to, he maintained an even composure and waited to strike when his patience had officially run out.

"Did you murder Mr. and Mrs. Stapleton last night?" Dwight questioned firmly.

Bob spat at Dwight's feet then looked up to him with defiance. "Fuck you!"

Dwight thought of the older couple that survived together against all odds with their frailty and age making them desperate to find a place to settle down and live throughout their lives. Because of their condition, Dwight gave the older couple a pass with hard labor and said that they could contribute in other ways. Mrs. Stapleton proved helpful to all communities as she provided quilts and knitted blankets for new families that had arrived. It was hard to not take the kill personally since Dwight's own goddaughter wore a knitted hat that the sweet woman made specifically for the small infant.

"What was your motivation behind it?" Dwight then asked through gritted teeth while feeling his temperature rising. He was going to have to let Bob go. However, it was just one more person that they would have to fight later. Dwight knew Rick wouldn't understand the other option that he entertained but knew that Rick didn't necessarily have to know. The other communities weren't at war but Sanctuary's war never ended. It was ongoing with threats being outside and inside the walls on a constant loop. Dwight didn't see an end in sight. "You could have killed any able bodied person who fights the exiled Saviors on a daily basis. Why did you go after the Stapleton's?"

"If I give you an answer, will you let me start packing so I can get the fuck out of here?" Bob asked snidely. Dwight shrugged in response as Bob scoffed in his direction. "It's pretty simple. I was relaying information to some exiled Saviors and the old man saw me. I offered to explain myself and then killed them in their house. Now can I go?"

Dwight took a deep breath and nodded to both Miguel and Mark. "You know the protocol," he reminded darkly as Miguel handed him a gun.

"Yep, not a word to Rick," Miguel stated as they both stepped outside the room.

"Wait, what's going on?" Bob asked as he sat up in his chair while staring at the gun. Dwight closed the door behind his confidantes and then stared back at Bob.

"You killed people in our group, Bob," Dwight uttered and checked to see if the gun was loaded. "Rules are supposed to be that I send you packing where you can try and press your luck on your own. But I know where you're going. You know where you're going. If I knew the exiled Saviors would leave us alone then we would be having a different conversation right now. Keeping you alive only for you to attack us in the future just doesn't make any sense to me."

"I want to speak to Rick," Bob defended arrogantly with his nose in the air. "This is against his code. I have rights that need to be met."

"You seem to be appreciating the rules a lot more than you did a minute ago," Dwight responded. "Do you know what happened to Nigel or Kyle? They were the last two men that were exiled."

"The Saviors on the other side of the wall said that they never made it to their camp," Bob confessed but then shook his head as clarity struck him. "They didn't get killed by walkers, did they?"

Dwight pursed his lips and nodded. "They were killed in this same room, actually," he responded as Bob sank into his chair knowing he didn't stand a chance. "Rick's rules are great and they have done a lot of good. Sanctuary is under another jurisdiction for the time being. It's because of ungrateful fucks like you who are messing shit up."

"Fucking hypocrite," Bob snarled. "Sounds like something Negan would have said."

The words bit under Dwight's skin more than he thought they would. "Well, what am I supposed to fucking do, Bob?" He grilled and started pacing. "Am I just supposed to let men in Sanctuary kill...rape...attack people? We're trying to build something good here. You aren't messing shit up because you want things to be better along with us. You are trying to make it worse. I cannot in good conscience let you go free."

Bob started breathing heavily once the initial shock ran its course. He knew he was going to die within minutes if not seconds. "Fuck you, man," he muttered as he hung his head.

Dwight stared at him for a long moment and drew a deep breath. No longer wanting to deal with the emotions that came with such heavy decision making, he turned on the switch in his head and left himself to deal with the repercussions later. He cocked the gun and aimed it at Bob's head then pulled the trigger.

…

Dwight was standing in the foyer of Hilltop as surrounding community members were laughing and conversing much like the Christmas Eve dinner a couple of days earlier. He could almost tell that it was a dream since some things seemed out of the ordinary. For instance, he saw Takuya and Megan talking to a circle of people. In the circle were a couple of other faces that he hadn't seen in a long time. Jason and Terri had their two oldest children beside them.

In another part of the room, Dwight could see Dean talking to the boy he knew to be Drew. Eerily, they spoke at the threshold of the room that Dwight had killed Drew in years before. It was unmistakable that it was all a dream. Even as he continued to remind himself that it was a dream, he saw his family beside the fireplace. His father, Jack, had one arm around Sherry as he said something for only her to hear. Upon hearing what he had to say, Sherry looked up to his dad and smiled warmly. His mom, Rebekah, looked on as she spoke to his brother, John, while they all appeared to be happy.

Dwight walked up to them at the same time that he got a quick glance at himself from the mirror on top of the fireplace. His face was free of any previous burn that Negan had given him. Don't fall for it, Dwight's subconscious thought. Your dreams always start this way and end up being fucked.

His mom first embraced him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Dwight," she said fondly. "All of these people are alive because of you."

Dwight couldn't answer but what his mom said didn't make sense. Most of the people in the room were dead because of him. He wanted to correct her but his dream wasn't allowing him to speak. Her appraisal of him made him feel unworthy to be around her. Had she known the truth, she would not feel the same in regards to her younger son.

"We're all proud of you," John stated and patted his brother on the back. "You're doing great things with your life."

Again, he wanted to tell John that the community he was running was falling to bits but he couldn't say it. He almost liked the praise that he was given. Not that it was deserved but that he went a long time without hearing that he was ever doing the right thing. That was besides Sherry who had to remind him but her words didn't always leave him convinced with the overwhelming bad that was surrounding Sanctuary.

The other shoe never dropped as the entirety of the dream was filled with laughter and joy among friends that Dwight didn't think he would ever see again. There was one thing that remained a strong fixture of the dream. Drew never left his spot beside the room that Dwight killed him in. At times when Dwight glanced towards him to see if he disappeared. Drew would be looking directly at him with arms folded. His expression wasn't bitter or resentful. But Dwight knew in real life, that he should be hated by most of the people in the room. It was all a façade. It didn't make him feel better about his past while the dream tried to sweep everything under a rug. Dwight committed egregious crimes and continued to do so. As he watched Sherry and his mom converse in the dream, he started backing away from the scene. Sooner or later, they would know what he did. His scar would return and they would scream. Instead, he removed himself from the party and opened Hilltop mansion's front door to escape.

Taking deep breaths, Dwight sat up and stared around his bedroom. It was another dream, Dwight thought as he shook his head in bitterness. Another fucking dream.

…

Dwight's eyes fluttered open at the sound of things being moved around him. His vision wasn't exactly clear so he relied on his other sources to figure out what was around him. He could tell that he was in Sanctuary's bar. It was still dark outside but Dwight knew he had been there for at least a few hours. Being unable to fall back asleep after his dream, he went to the bar alone and got plastered to forget the stresses that he had. He soon fell asleep in a drunken stupor.

"You were lucky tonight," he heard Sherry mutter behind him. Dwight didn't even lift his head from the bar counter as he moaned in response. He could hear glass clattering as it hit his senses like it was the sound of a freight train instead.

"Dwight, why do you keep doing this to yourself?" Sherry asked with some remorse in her voice. "I know some of the guys say to drink your problems away but is it really helping that much? Is it worth all this?"

"I...just…" Dwight mumbled but quit trying to justify himself. He let out a deep growl and rolled his face over so his forehead rested on the counter instead.

He heard the clanking of the glasses continue as he looked up to see what Sherry was doing. She glanced up at him unapologetically as she placed all the alcohol in a box. "This is all going somewhere else. Miguel, Mark, and I had a vote. It was unanimous. None of our people should be dealing with this while we still have stuff to do," she explained as if it wasn't up for discussion. "Least of all you," she added.

"Not unanimous, I vote to keep it where it is," Dwight complained.

"Still have three votes against you, sweetie," Sherry upheld. She took a seat beside him and put a gentle hand on his back. "Did you have another dream?"

Dwight scrunched his eyebrows together while laying his head over his folded arms on the bar. "What bad dreams?" He feigned unimpressively.

"We slept in the same bed at Hilltop," Sherry reminded. "You talk in your sleep, by the way."

Dwight snorted in response but then felt a sorrow take over him. He vowed to not have Sherry know that he was struggling as much as he was. She was supposed to depend on him. Not the other way around. He never wanted to be a burden to her. Sherry cleaning alcohol away for him wasn't helping the situation either.

"You weren't the only one that made bad decisions in the past," Sherry said quietly. Even though he didn't tell her the turmoil that he suffered, she knew where the source rested. "I killed Ryan, ya know. Not a day goes by where I don't regret that. I see Valerie walking around Sanctuary and I can't bring myself to even tell her that her husband's death is on my shoulders."

"You did it because of me," Dwight defended.

"I did it because I was angry," Sherry corrected as a tear escaped her eye. "Your outcome wouldn't have changed one bit had I just brought him with me to Hilltop. I'm sure that's how you feel with a lot of the kills you made too. You killed to keep me safe, my outcome stayed the same regardless of what you did."

Dwight didn't respond and just listened to what Sherry had to say. By nature, she was a very forward person and said what she meant in regards to everything around her. When it came to his alcohol problem, she held her tongue and let him crash into a wall. She waited when she thought he was ready to hear a voice of reason.

"People want you dead. Here," Sherry said to indicate Sanctuary. "Give someone the opportunity to shoot you in the head and they'll take it. Coming to the bar alone and getting yourself drunk wasn't the best cooked scheme that you've had."

"I can't do it," Dwight confessed quietly as he stared into her eyes. "I can't be a leader to these people, I can't get my life figured out, and I can't make you happy. Forgive me for trying to forget all of that."

Sherry was quiet for a moment as Dwight assumed she would leave after he said what was on his mind. What he revealed wasn't ideal. The look on Sherry's face let him know that she understood just how broken he felt on the inside. Any person should have given up on him. Like the exiled Saviors, he was equally a lost cause.

"No," Sherry said softly but with conviction. "Nope, I'm not letting you quit. You have come so far and I won't let you throw it all away." She stood up and put her head on Dwight's shoulder as she leaned against him gently. "First off, you do make me happy. Our time away from Sanctuary should confirm that. And you will never inconvenience me when you are going through a tough time. You do the same for me; it's only fair for me to pay it forward. That's how couples work. Secondly, you need to talk to someone about what's bothering you. Whether it's me or not, talk to someone about your past and sort through it. It doesn't need to stay in there."

"I will if you will," Dwight challenged in a snarky tone as he glimpsed at Sherry who had things to sort through on her own.

Sherry pursed her lips in response then sighed. "Fair point," she conceded but then continued. "Thirdly… I think taking the job as leader of Sanctuary when you did saved a lot of people from being killed. However, with everything that has happened in the last couple of months… our forces leaving for better communities, being attacked… No one is going to judge you for letting this place be and moving on. You tried. I tried. A lot of us tried. It could be better for all of us to just leave it behind. It was important for you to take responsibility of Sanctuary before. It's not expected of you now."

"Talk to Rick about this?" Dwight asked with curiosity wondering if Sherry raised her concerns with other community leaders.

"No, but I think he already knows," Sherry said simply. "As a leader, it's your job to find the right solution for your people. Not the one that seems noble or strong but the right one. People are tired, Dwight. They want to live their lives without fighting to keep it."

Dwight lifted his head up and looked to the one person who was his constant in his life. He didn't even think that she could be any more of a perfect person. Her patience with him confirmed her commitment to him. Even though he didn't like being anything other than strong for her, she took him regardless. She listened to his personal grief and said exactly what needed to be said.

They both had things they needed to work on. The painful memories almost seemed too difficult to comprehend. That was until Sherry opened the door to talk about it to someone. In that moment, Dwight didn't want to talk to anyone else but her.

"I will discuss the idea about closing up shop with Rick," Dwight revealed and reached for Sherry's hand that rested on his shoulder. He gazed towards her then nodded towards the cardboard box filled with alcoholic beverages. "I'll help you pack those up."

Sherry kissed the side of his burnt face while holding his shoulder down firmly to keep him from standing up. "Don't worry about it. I got it taken care of."

"You are one of a kind," Dwight muttered and rested his head on the counter once more.

"I'm just being your voice of reason," Sherry replied as the clinking of glass commenced. "Miguel and Mark are outside waiting to escort you home. Rest up a bit. When we get back to Hilltop, we'll make plans to organize moving families away from wherever they decide to live."

"Given this a lot of thought, I see," Dwight joked but admired Sherry's original knack to plan things out ahead of time.

"Ya know, when someone is trying to assassinate your boyfriend every other day, you make the necessary plans to get him out," Sherry explained lightly while continuing her work.

"I should have thought to get you out of here," Dwight said while thinking of how miserable she had been in the last several months.

"You're forgetting that you have tried to get me out of here," Sherry replied. "I simply chose to stay. But if I leave, you are coming with me."

"Well, that's just a heart warmer," Dwight responded with a small grin. He was undeserving of the love he had with Sherry. At least he felt like he was. He hoped to not let her down so much in the future if ever.

AUTHOR'S NOTES, TRIVIA, & FACTS

#1 - Who has two thumbs and gets to meet Jeffrey Dean Morgan in April? THIS GIRL! Very excited!