Chapter Six

Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

This day was not what I wanted. What I had wanted was baby cuddles and friends and good food. What I got was bullshit. Absolute bullshit. If I hadn't promised Negan a few months ago that I wouldn't hit him again, it's likely that I would have slapped him for dragging me into this.

We had been in Alexandria for roughly an hour and a half and Negan had successfully terrified everyone and made a woman cry. He'd toured the house, found out about a secret daughter of Rick's, and was in the process of making spaghetti. Apparently, we would be waiting to leave until Rick got home. To make it all better, I had been informed that Colt was with Rick and a man named Aaron, so I couldn't even go talk to him to ease the boredom.

"You think we're going to be here all day?" Arat murmured from where was standing in the grass in front of Rick's house.

I sighed and used my foot to push the rocking into movement again. "Who fucking knows? I just know that Laura is hogging all of Savannah's time right now and I'm pissed."

"Same. She's going to be the favorite just because she's there more than we are," Arat grumbled under her breath.

Suddenly, Arat's face morphed into "stone cold killer" and I knew we had company.

My eyes followed her line of vision to see Olivia, the woman Negan had made cry earlier, and a brown haired girl walking towards the house, talking under their breath. Olivia, once again, had tears streaming down her face while clutching the container of powdered lemonade to her chest.

She stalked up the stairs, not once looking in my direction, as the brunette followed her.

"Why don't you just go home? I can handle this," she said to Olivia, placing her hand on the crying woman's shoulder.

"I promised Rick I would watch Judith. It's fine," Olivia said with fresh tears welling up in her eyes before she made her way into the house.

I was in a bad mood because of the unfortunate turn of events my day had taken, but I couldn't help rolling my eyes at the dramatics.

"Are you just going to sit out here, enjoying the weather while he terrorizes everyone in there?" The new woman asked, placing a hand on her rip and raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yep," I responded with a sarcastic smile.

I wasn't going to engage in whatever bullshit she wanted to volley at me. I wasn't here to save Alexandria. I wasn't even here to 'terrorize' Alexandria. I didn't want to be here at all.

"Wildflower! Spaghetti's ready!" I heard Negan bellow through the house.

"Seems I'm needed inside. Feel free to leave now, I said to the woman who was still standing there, watching me, and used my machete to wave her away.

The following hour dragged on in what was possibly the most awkward dinner party ever. I sat at the end of the table, across from Negan, as we ate. Thankfully, the spaghetti was good, otherwise I wouldn't have made it through listening to Olivia sniffle for sixty minutes straight.

Eventually there was a knock at the door and Negan disappeared outside.

"Who was that?" I asked Carl as I placed the dirty dishes in the sink.

"Spencer, maybe. The son of the original leader."

"Does he know we're here?" I questioned, as I raised an eyebrow at the kid.

Carl rolled his eyes and propped his hip on the counter while crossing his arms over his chest. "Probably. He's a kiss ass, so he's probably come to see what he can get out of Negan."

"Take it you're not a huge fan of his, huh?"

Carl shrugged his shoulders. "He's the worst. Not Negan bad, but he's kind of an asshole."

I couldn't stop the snort. "Are you even old enough to be saying asshole?"

"If I'm old enough to kill walkers, I'm old enough to cuss."

"Totally valid," I laughed.

I started washing the dishes, even though I probably shouldn't have, but was pleasantly surprised when Carl stepped in next to me and started rinsing the dishes I washed. We continued in a comfortable silence until we finished.

"Thanks for the help, kid," I said, grinning at him.

He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by shouts that sounded from outside. Carl's eyes met mine and both of us took off through the house. I grabbed my machete from the kitchen table and tore through the space, behind the teenager, until we were on the front porch.

My eyes went wide as I tried to decipher the scene playing out before me. There was a pool table in the middle of the road and a large crowd of Alexandrian's and Savior's around it. Why? More concerning was that there was a man on his knees in front of Negan quite literally holding his guts in his hands. My stomach turned.

"How embarrassing? There they are. They were inside you the whole time! You did have guts! I've never been so wrong in my whole life!" Negan yelled, grinning at the crowd.

And then it felt like the entire world just paused as my eyes zeroed in on the short brunette that I had pissed off our first time in Alexandria. Her hand moved in slow motion to reach behind her and I felt deep in my soul what she was grabbing for.

I took off like a bolt of lightning, not even bothering to take the stairs. My hand gripped the railing of the porch and I vaulted myself over to the grass below. My feet kept moving as she raised the gun and pointed it at Negan's face. Her face contorted into a look of pure anger as her index finger pulled the trigger a split second before I tackled her to the ground with everything I had in me.

She fought me for a minute, until my knees closed in on either side of her hips and my machete pressed into her neck hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. I craned my neck over my shoulder to see Negan holding Lucille in front of him with wide eyes. I zeroed in on the bullet stuck in the bat's surface. She almost fucking killed him.

I turned my head to look back down at the woman, who was now staring up at me with a triumphant, defiant look in her eyes. If I had any self control prior to that moment, it vanished.

I dropped my machete and balled my fist, slamming it into the woman's nose repeatedly. I couldn't hear anything but the rush of blood in my ears and my knuckles continued to make contact with her face.

Arms wrapped around my waist and yanked me backwards. I knew whose arms they were before he opened his mouth.

"Piper, Piper stop! Stop!" Colt yelled in my ear.

I looked around wildly as he dragged me backwards. Negan was screaming, but I still could really only hear the blood rushing through. I twisted and bucked until Colt dropped me. I scrambled back towards the woman, who now had blood pouring down her face, and grabbed my machete from the ground beside her. Shoving my blade against her cheek, I stood there, breathing hard as I watched her groan.

My eyes settled on the gun next to her as Negan continued to scream. My gun. The gun I had given Colt, that he had promised he would never use against myself or Negan.

I looked back at my brother, a deeper anger coursing through my veins. His blue eyes rounded as he looked at the gun beside the woman and back up at me. He started shaking his head. I couldn't breathe right.

I can't believe he would fucking do this to me.

"Arat, kill somebody," Negan commanded.

My eyes locked on Arat, who was standing close to me, as she quickly unholstered her gun and fired at Olivia on the porch. The woman dropped fast. Everyone around us started screaming and crying, but I was focused on the gun.

I snatched it off the ground and tucked it into the back of my leggings as Rick appeared beside Negan.

I bent low putting my face in the crying womans, a small amount of pride bubbling in my chest at all the blood running down her face.

"If you ever, ever, do that shit again, Jesus himself will not be able to stop me from ripping your head off of your body. Do you understand?" I growled.

More tears flowed from her eyes, leaving streaks in the blood.

"I said do you fucking understand me!?"

A broken 'yes' fell from the womans mouth as I stood up and, just because she tried to kill my fucking Negan, I kicked her once in the ribs with all the force I could muster.

"Piper!" Colt whisper-yelled.

I turned towards my brother, more angry with him than I ever had been in my entire fucking life.

"Do not speak to me, Colt. I mean it. Not a goddamn word," I seethed.

"Piper, I didn't give her that, I promise. She must have found it in my room this morning," he spluttered.

"I don't give a fuck. I really do not. I don't want to hear any excuses out of your mouth. Don't. Talk. To. Me."

I turned on my heel and started following the rest of the Saviors and Negan to the gate. I kept my eyes open, ready for anything. That was the second person in one fucking day who had tried to kill him and I was at my absolute wits end. Something had to change.

Unable to hear anything else, I climbed in the truck and waited for Negan, trying to control my breathing, which was coming out in labored puffs. My emotions were all over the place and I couldn't seem to place which one was the most prominent.

After a couple minutes, Negan slid into the truck next to me and quickly pulled through the gates. His hand immediately grabbed onto my thigh and squeezed. My eyes bounced up to meet his and before I could stop it, sobs raked through my body. I threw myself across the seat, burying my face into the crook of his neck.

"Negan," I cried.

His free arm circled around my waist and he pressed soft kisses to my forehead.

"It's fine, wildflower. I'm fine. We're okay," he mumbled as he continued driving.

I couldn't keep my hands off of him as we drove. The thought that I had been so fucking close to losing him shattered my heart and kept the tears flowing at a steady pace from my eyes.


If I thought the day was shit before we got home, it was ten times worse once we actually arrived. The Sanctuary was in complete chaos when we rolled through the gates. Simon and Dwight were standing outside the front doors, sadness, anger, and fear etched into their features.

"Negan…" I started, looking over at him.

His eyes flicked up to mine.

"Fuck," he muttered, slamming the truck in park and jumping out.

I followed him, stopping in front of Dwight and Simon.

"Spit it the fuck out," Negan demanded, his eyes bouncing between the two of them.

"Daryl got out," Simon said.

I noticed Dwight's eyes drop.

Oh, fuck.

"But that's not it," Simon continued, "He's gone. Like completely gone. And Sherry's missing all of a sudden. Dwight can't find her. Her clothes are gone out of their room and some supplies are unaccounted for."

What in the actual fuck.

"What… what do you fucking mean, Simon? How does all of this shit transpire in the short amount of goddamn time that I've been gone!? Explain it to me!" Negan bellowed, throwing his hands up in the air.

My eyes stayed on Dwight. He looked pale and his hands were shaking slightly.

"We think Daryl killed Fat Joey when he was leaving," Dwight mumbled.

A gasp fell from my mouth and a wave of grief rolled through me.

Silence fell around the group. My heart beat at an uncomfortable rhythm. I had just talked to Joey. Sweet Joey, who wouldn't harm a fucking fly.

I turned away from them, my hands wrapping around my body. I couldn't be here. I couldn't do this. I was going to have a fucking panic attack. So, I left the small group and set out to dig another grave.

I heard Simon whisper behind me as they watched me walk away. "What happened to her hands?"

It took me over an hour to dig Joey's grave. My knuckles protested the entire time, bleeding as I clutched onto the shovel I had retrieved from the small shed near the garden. It gave me time to think, which only made me angry.

Angry at the world. Angry at Rick's people. Angry at Negan. Angry at everything.

When I dropped the shovel and turned to go find Joey's body, my eyes connected with Simon's, who was standing behind with a body covered in a sheet on a long, flat metal cart.

"Sorry it took me so long. I was going to help, but it took a bit of help to get him on the cart," Simon mumbled.

I nodded my head, still incapable of forming words, and walked over to him. Carefully removing the sheet, I let tears slide down my cheeks. Joey didn't deserve this.

Simon pushed the cart closer to the hole and helped me carefully lower Joey's body down. I dropped to my knees beside the open grave and leaned down to run my hand over his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, friend," I murmured.

I jumped back to my feet, wiping the tears off my face and began to fill the grave with dirt. Every movement swept away the sadness and that dangerous anger crept back in to take its place.

Everything was eating at me. We were all trying to just live in this fucked up new version of the world and no one could pull their shit together for five fucking seconds and figure out how to just coexist. It was always a plot here and a mass murder there and it felt like nothing could just go okay for one fucking day. I couldn't handle it. Something had to change. We had to change.

Simon stood beside me, watching me until I finished. As I patted the dirt down, I turned to look at the man.

"Where's Negan?" I demanded, my tone harsher than I wanted it to be.

We had to figure this shit out.

Simon's left hand circled around the back of his neck as he scratched himself uncomfortably.

"Uh, he's with Dwight…" he responded, looking away from me.

The hair on my own neck stood up.

"He's with Dwight doing what, Simon?"

A painful sigh slipped past his lips. "Punishing him. For letting Daryl escape."

He couldn't be fucking serious right now. Punishing Dwight for Daryl escaping? We'd had someone break in, someone die, Dwight's wife run off with supplies, and Daryl get out, but the priority was punishing Dwight? When it could have been anyone's fault that he escaped in the first place?

"Piper, hold on. Daryl was Dwight's responsibility!" Simon called after me as I took off in a sprint towards the Sanctuary.

I ignored him and kept running, flying across the grounds and through the Sanctuary until I got where I knew they would: Daryl's cell. As I rounded the corner, I saw Negan standing outside the damp cell with Lucille thrown over his shoulder, staring into the dark open doorway.

I could hear grunts and thuds coming from inside the small room and red hot anger blurred my vision for the second time today. I stormed down the remainder of the hall, slapping Negan's hand off of me as he reached out and grabbed my wrist.

Two men were inside, hovering over Dwight, whose face was already busted. As one of the men raised a fist, I flung my hand out and slapped the spit out of him while using my heel to kick the other one in the side. They stumbled back with wide eyes.

"Get the fuck out of here before I do to you what you just did to him," I gritted out, pointing towards the door.

I didn't wait to see if they listened as I dropped to the floor beside Dwight. He was huddled in a ball, using his arms to cover his face. Slowly, my hands wrapped around his wrists and I moved them down. He had blood covering most of his face and a gash on his forehead.

"Piper, get the fuck out of there right fucking now!" Negan bellowed, stepping into the doorway.

Dwight's eyes slowly opened and he looked up at me.

I snapped my head in Negan's direction, all sense of reasonable thought leaving my brain. My eyes hooked on his and I jumped to my feet.

"Go. Fuck. Yourself."

His eyes widened for a second before his face turned a dark shade of red.

"He fucked up. He gets punished. That's how it fucking works. He knows the rules, Piper!" Negan yelled.

I closed the distance between us, pushing my chest against his abdomen. I probably would've looked a little more intimidating if I wasn't an entire foot shorter than him.

"You don't fucking yell at me, Negan Smith. I don't give a single fuck how upset you are about all of the shit this fabulous fucking day has dumped on our doorstep. You. Don't. Talk. To. Me. That. Way. You are not going to have the shit beat out of him because a prisoner got out when it could have been anyone that let the motherfucker out in the first place! You think this is the correct way to handle the situation? We are likely going to fucking war with those fucks in Alexandria and you think fucking up the people we actually have here, the ones helping us, fighting for us, is going to do a goddamn thing for anyone? Because that's sure not how you ensure loyalty, Negan! And it's not how you treat family, rules or fucking not!" I screamed back, shoving my pointer finger in his chest for emphasis.

Negan's breath came out in short, angry bursts across my face, matching my own.

"You seem to forget who runs this fucking place," Negan growled.

"And you seem to forget who the fuck you're talking to. Because if you think for a moment I'm going to just roll over and take whatever bullshit you've cooked up and not say anything when you're wrong, then you should probably just get rid of me now," I returned, keeping my angry eyes locked on his.

"Maybe I fucking should," he breathed.

Air caught in my throat at his words, but the anger left no room for anything else in my body. If he wanted to do this shit with me, then fine.

"Let me save you the fucking trouble, Negan," I bit out angrily, turning around and very slowly helping Dwight to his feet.

I threw my arm around his waist, careful not to hurt him further, and he draped his across my shoulders.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Negan demanded.

"I'm taking him back to his room so Carson can look at him. And then I'll be going to stay in Laura, Arat, or Simon's room for the night to give you time to consider how, exactly, you'll be getting rid of me. You giant jackass," I seethed before nudging Dwight to start walking.

I shouldered past Negan who stood there with enough anger rolling off of him to shake the walls.

"You better come back to our room so we can have a fucking conversation, Piper. I mean it!" Negan yelled after me as I carefully helped Dwight down the hall.

"You better go fuck yourself, Negan!" I called back.

I didn't need to say that. I was acting like a child now, but fuck all of it. He didn't need to talk to me like that and he sure didn't need to treat the people around him like that. He couldn't pull his head out of his own ass long enough to see what was happening around him and I wasn't going to just sit back and take that shit. I sure as hell wasn't going to hang around if he thought for a fucking moment he would be better off without me.

The stairs were the hardest part. Dwight grunted as we made our way up, but I kept my arms around him as tight as I could.

"We're almost there, D. Almost to the top. You can do it," I huffed out, all the air having vacated my lungs.

When we finally reached his room, I quickly opened the door and led him to his bed, helping him into it slowly as he groaned.

I looked around for a split second. It was messy, but not dirty. He had stuff everywhere. My eyes locked on the dresser in the corner. One side was haphazardly pulled open with womens clothes hanging out and strung out on the floor in front of it.

My eyes fell back on Dwight and I noticed he was staring at the dresser too.

"She fucking left me here," he mumbled.

Tears welled up in his eyes, but didn't fall over his lashes.

"I'm so sorry, D. I'm so fucking sorry," I breathed as I reached for the radio he still had on his beltloop.

Pushing down the button, I spoke steadily into the radio.

"Dr. Carson, this is Piper. I need you in Dwight's room. Now."

"Copy. Be there shortly," Carson's voice responded.

I dropped to my knees beside Dwight's bed and grabbed on to his hand as my head dropped to the edge of the large mattress.

"I'm sorry. I'm so incredibly fucking sorry, Dwight. I didn't know he would do that to you. I was burying Fat Joey when Simon told me," I breathed out, shaking my head as tears welled up in my eyes.

"It's not your fault, Piper. That redneck fuck was my responsibility," Dwight responded, squeezing my hand once before letting it go.

"I don't care who's responsibility he was. That shit is not okay and I'll be damned if I let it happen again."

My eyes locked with his.

"You don't have to protect me. I'm a big boy, Piper. I can handle Negan. I have before," he attempted to smile at me, causing his lip to crack open and fresh blood to well up.

"But that shouldn't be how things are. I'm going to fix it. I promise. I'm going to fix all of it," I swore, drawing my eyebrows together.

Dwight's door opened loudly and my head snapped up. Dr. Carson stepped into the room with a black bag.

"Fix him," I directed, standing up and pointing at Dwight, "Please."

Carson set to work, cleaning up the cuts on Dwight's face and bandaging the worst ones. Once he finished, he stepped back.

"You should spend the night in the infirmary. You took quite a few knocks to the head and I want to make sure you don't have a concussion," Carson said evenly.

"Nah, man. I'm not doing that. I want to stay in my bed," Dwight responded, shaking his head once and wincing.

"You really need to - " Carson began.

"I'll stay with him and watch him. He's more comfortable in his own bed. I'll radio you if I see anything to be concerned about," I cut the doctor off, "Thank you for coming. I appreciate it, doc."

Carson nodded his head in my direction.

"If he gets dizzy, foggy, gets a bad headache, starts vomiting, anything like that, call for me immediately."

"Yes, sir," I smiled at the man and watched as he left.

When the door snapped closed, Dwight looked up at me.

"I don't have a concussion. You don't have to stay."

"Doctor's orders, man," I smiled as I flipped off the light and plopped on the couch on the other side of the room, "Take a nap or something. Because I'm probably going to, too. If you start feeling fucked up, wake me so I can get the doctor, yeah?"

"You got it, nurse," Dwight chuckled as his eyes started closing.

The room went quiet as we laid in the darkness.

"Dwight?"

"Yeah?"

"Why would Sherry leave?"

I heard his breathing go ragged. "I'm not sure. I'm going to go look for her tomorrow, though."

"Do you want me to help you?" I asked softly.

"I'll let you know how I'm feeling tomorrow, trouble," he said quietly.

I waited until his breathing evened out before I snatched a small throw blanket off the back of the couch and curled up into a ball on my side. Sleep came for me quickly, pulling me into its comfortable darkness.


Negan

Stubborn, hard headed, pain in the ass, loud, opinionated fucking woman.

I was wearing a path in the concrete in my office as I paced in a circle.

Did she really for a damn second that I was going to start taking orders from her? Did she just think that she ran shit around here now? Because what the actual fuck.

And where the fuck was she even at? It was two in the morning. Had she forgotten that not even six hours ago she was crying on my shoulder because some stupid bitch tried to kill me?

"Boss, maybe you should just go talk to her or something," Simon said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Thanks for the stellar fucking advice, Simon. I'm not going to go beg her to come back to our fucking room. She can stay with Arat and Laura for the rest of her life for all I give a fuck," I yelled, picking up my glass and downing the rest of the whiskey before slamming it back to the coffee table.

"She's not with Arat or Laura, though…" Simon trailed off, his face suddenly contorting in an uncomfortable expression.

"Where the fuck else would she be?"

"I think she stayed in D's room. She's probably just watching over him, boss. Making sure he's good for the night," Simon mumbled, looking anywhere but at my face.

Was she trying to get on every last fucking nerve I had left? She knew I couldn't fucking sleep without her in the room and she was choosing to watch after that fuck?

"Maybe you should just give her some space for a little bit. Let her calm down and talk about this tomorrow, when you both have had time to think about it," Simon suggested.

"Be fucking serious, Simon," I growled, stomping towards the door, "Let's go. You're staying with Dwight tonight."

I made my way through the halls with Simon grumbling behind me, until I got to Dwight's door. Deciding against knocking, I opened the door quickly only to be greeted with near darkness.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but eventually they focused on Piper, who was curled into a ball on her side with a small blanket covering her body. Her blonde hair had come out of the ponytail she'd been wearing earlier and was splayed across her face. She looked peaceful and for some reason, that tugged at my heart, which just got on my nerves.

"She's been asleep for hours. I can't imagine that the couch is too comfortable," I heard a voice murmur from my left.

My eyes snapped to Dwight's, who was laying in his bed with his head propped up. I nodded.

"Simon's going to sit with you for the rest of the night."

"Alright," Dwight responded, "Get her to a real bed, please. She keeps rolling around and I'm scared she's going to fall off the couch at some point. And I'm sorry. About Daryl. It was my fault he got away."

God, damn it. I was starting to feel like the jackass Piper accused me of being and I couldn't say that I was a huge fucking fan of the feeling.

"It's fine. Just don't let it happen again," I barked, walking towards my wildflower, before stopping and running my hands down my face. "Fuck. I'm sorry, too. I should have handled that better. That was not cool. I… I won't pull that shit again. We can talk more about it tomorrow."

"Did he just say sorry? Fuck. Hell must have frozen over," I heard Simon whisper and Dwight let out a low laugh.

"Fuck off. The both of you."

I bent down and carefully lifted Piper into my arms. She must have been exhausted because she didn't move an inch. She was so fucking beautiful when she was sleeping. And so quiet.

"See ya, boss man," Simon said as I passed by him.

I carried her down the quiet hall, her head resting on my shoulder the whole time. Fuck. Even being close to her helped my heart rate return to normal.

When I got to the room, I gently laid her on the bed and pulled her shoes off. Her eyes stayed closed as I covered her with our blanket.

I stared down at her for a moment. Goddamn her. Goddamn her and her beautiful

fucking face and perfect nose and soft hair and how she always smells like fucking flowers. And fuck her and her attitude and her need to always fight for everyone. A grin pulled at my face for just a moment. She was everything I wanted, all wrapped up into one, gorgeous slightly unhinged package and I was a fucking idiot.

I didn't want to admit it, but she was right. She was so annoyingly fucking right, like usual. This thing with Alexandria was going to blow up. I could feel it. I needed the people we had here to defend this place and I wasn't exactly winning "World's Best Boss" awards by fucking up Dwight for something that could have been anyone's doing.

Fuck fucking fuckity fuck.

Quickly pulling my clothes off, I rounded the bed and crawled under the blankets. I wrapped my arm around my wildflower's waist and pulled her onto my chest as I breathed in the smell of her hair.

"You're still a giant jackass," she suddenly murmured into my chest.

I couldn't stop the smile that pulled up my lips.

"But I'm your giant jackass, baby," I whispered back to her as my eyes finally drifted closed.

"We're still fighting, Negan Smith," she said as she snuggled into my chest.

"I know, sweetheart. Let's just pause until after breakfast."