For my sister | Negan |

4 - The truth

They've turned the house into a mess. Though I told them exactly where to find the medication, they turned over everything else as well. Looking for more meds or other valuable things, I suppose. Honestly, I'm not sure yet what else they've taken, besides the mattresses. There certainly seem to be things missing but I'm going to have to tidy up a bit before I can really take stock.

Ella went out to find Carl and make sure he's okay, since the two of them are pretty close. So I start to pick through the mess on my own. I feel a little calmer now that they've left my house at least, but I won't be able to truly wind down until they've left Alexandria without killing anyone.

I sigh as I take in the ravage before me and tie my dark curls back into a ponytail. Then I start putting everything back where it belongs. I realize with a start that they did go through the cabinet beneath the sink, because they left it open and pulled everything out. But they didn't find the wooden panel behind which I hid the meds, thank God. I surely would have heard about it if they had.

When I've tidied up a little, I decide to go into the other room and see how Ron's doing. I already checked in on him shortly and was happy to find out that they haven't been in his room much.

When I walk into the room, I can see he's craning his neck, trying to look out the window, but the bed's just a bit too far away.

'Don't worry about it, Ron, you don't want to see it.'

'Is it bad?' he asks, looking up at me as I lean back against the wall.

'They're taking all the weapons', I tell him with a sigh. 'All the medication. All the mattresses. But no food yet, I've heard.'

'How generous', Ron says sarcastically.

I snort and raise my eyebrows in agreement.

'At least they let us keep your mattress', I tell him. 'And the other two in the infirmary.'

'Good for them', Ron says. 'I'd have kicked their asses if they tried to take this mattress away from me.'

We both laugh, but Ron's laugh soon turns into a nasty cough and I walk over to help him up a little so he can breathe better. When he's calmed down a little, I hand him a bowl to spit the phlegm into and then offer him some water.

'Better?' I ask. He nods as he slowly sinks back into the pillows, tears in his eyes from the attack.

'Are you going to be able to fix me without the meds, doc?' he asks me softly. I wince slightly at the fear I hear in his voice. How can these people do this to us?

'I think so, Ron, we've already gotten you through the worst of it. But I'll be honest, it will definitely be harder without antibiotics.'

'Perhaps I'll do you the decency of dying tonight', he says, closing his eyes as the coughing has left him exhausted. 'Let you spend more time on people that have better use of it.'

'Don't say that', I say affronted. 'You're going to be just fine, Ron.'

'Hm', he murmers noncommittaly. Then, without opening his eyes, he asks: 'So, what was he like?'

'Who?'

'You know, their leader. The one that killed Glenn and Abraham. He was here, wasn't he? I heard some.'

'Oh', I say, pulling back from fluffing his pillow.

'Yes, he was...' I hesitate looking for the right word for it, '... frightening.'

'Good, that's just what I was going for.'

My heart seems to drop right into my shoes when I hear his voice behind me. Why has he come back here? He can't be back here. It can't be good.