The CROWN ☁︎ Negan

PART 17

The Sanctuary was a dead space without Negan. The electrifying feeling of meeting him in the corridors was neutralized. Thunder of his heavy boots didn't echo around. It was the calm before the storm and all Sally could do was dwell in the eye of the hurricane waiting for Negan to sweep her off her feet again with his return.

She stood up on the roof where she watched the stars with Negan. He pulled her from the ledge that one time but he could not be there to do that for her everytime. She sneaked to the roof one too many times while she was on her excursions but he never came after her again. He just got used to her quirk and besides, she was not sleeping next to him every single night.

So she was passing the time looking into the abyss under her. The wind was ruffling her hair, and cooling her burning face after what she said to Negan. Not just talking. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes only for a second. The view she had from the top was too precious to miss. Negan could easily change his mind and come home sooner. And she was there to see it happen. That and then some more.

The factory under her feet wasn't that sleepy as it may seemed. The machine was still running, she heard it babbling and smoldering and she almost exploded when the door opened and the first cloud of steam came out.

Earlier that day, after she shook off the initial trauma from the ironing, she went on with the unconventional and headed to the part of the building that she avoided for so long. But they were sending her their regards so she was expected to say thank you, at least she thought so.

Her black dress did not sink in as smoothly as expected. The room full of women in black dress turned their heads to her and seeing Negan's astray missile in their territory left them paralyzed. Only Sherry's eyebrows shot high in disbelief. She was ready to defend her coven.

"Relax, I come in peace." Sally held her hands up in surrender. "I don't care which one of you sent me this dress... as long as you help me with something."

Sherry stood in the middle of the room conflicted, but finally caved in. The last thing they needed was another crying wife in their coven. She took Sally to her room.

"What is it?" Sherry crossed her arms on her chest.

"Well, I've got the dress, now finish what you started," Sally shrugged.

"I didn't..."

"I don't care who did it. Hair, make up, everything... you've got it, right?"

Sherry nodded.

"Do it then," Sally prompted. She had no time to kill.

"That's it?" Sherry squinted at Sally, still trying to discover something out of place.

"That's it," Sally reassured her.

"Sit down on the bed." Sherry went to her cabinet and came back with a vanity bag full of cosmetic products Sally did not use for ages. Sherry did not wait for anything, wanting it to be over as soon as possible. Everything was happening in complete silence. Surprisingly, Sherry was the one who couldn't take it for long.

"You puked, didn't you? After the iron?" She asked Sally, even though it seemed more like a statement.

Sally looked down, ashamed.

"No worries, I did, too, when he did it to Dwight."

"I thought he was using Lucille," Sally whispered.

"Lucille is not the only one who rules here." Sherry was the one to know.

"The guys with scars, huh?" The reference was so vaguely put, the ladies sharing a moment could imagine who they wanted. Sherry had Dwight, Sally had Negan and maybe even someone else in her sub-conscience.

"I came here for my sister. Not for a guy." Sherry couldn't help but explain herself.

"But I take it, you sister is not here anymore," Sally raised her brows.

"No, she is not," Sherry answered harshly after a little hesitation.

"Yet, you're still staying. Makes me wonder... You don't mind Negan's touches, too."

Sherry opened her mouth but nothing came out in her defense.

"You don't have to say anything, I get it just fine."

"So I'm supposed to change houses?"

"It's not like he's not giving you a choice," Sally did not make it easy on her.

Sherry took in a deep breath, ready to give Sally piece of her mind. "Negan..."

"Oh no, Sherry," Sally stopped her right there, "don't blame it on Negan. He's not the one who holds you here. He's not even here half the time, lately."

"So you're telling me, I'm the one at fault."

"Don't let it fool you. You're just as much of a prisoner as Daryl is." Sally tapped her temple while saying the word prisoner, letting Sherry know it's all in her head. "The only difference between you two is Daryl will die sooner than he caves in. And the day is not that far."

"Shut your mouth," Sherry said dryly.

Sally scoffed but Sherry didn't let her say anything.

"Relax, I just need to put the lipstick on," she said. "And then we're done." She used a double meaning phrase again.

"Goodbye, Sherry," was the last thing she heard Sally say to her. There was nothing more to add. Sherry knew Sally's intention. She was dressed up, smoothly shaven, her hair and make up was done. There was only one way she could go geared up like that in the apocalypse world. And in that moment Sherry knew they will be one place too short in Negan's bed. And one extra woman will not be missed. And when she'll be at it, she can easily help one fellow prisoner out.

And so, standing on the roof, Sally watched Sherry open the door of a big roaring machinery under her feet and run off into the wild.

A few minutes later the door opened again only to reveal another refugee. Daryl headed to the bikes, his most natural way of escape, but things did not go as smoothly for him as they went for Sherry. Joey, as Sally called him, caught Daryl in the act. And after all the previous violence, Sally didn't even flinch when Daryl beat him to death. She just stood there, on the ledge, calm, the eye of the storm, when next, out of the blue, lightning stoke her and brought back to life every single fiber in her body.

Her demons broke the hell loose in her mind. She didn't care what she saw was real or if the shadows of her wishful thinking clouded her judgment. But down there, right next to Daryl, she saw Jesus. And she needed to get to him so bad, she even reconsidered jumping down off the roof to be next to him sooner.

She needed to tell him. She needed to know he knew. It was him.

She turned back to the building, back to the emergency staircase and began climbing it down at a speed of light. Her feet were moving so fast they were just a blur. Her heart was beating so fast, it was almost still and she couldn't let it unfroze again until it was close enough for Jesus to melt. Her lungs were so short on air, they almost pulled her down with the weight. But she held her head above water. Jesus, her comet, was guiding her way.

By the time she made it to the yard and further to the gate, there was not even a whirled up dust on the road to tell her which way to go. But she knew which way the Hilltop was. So she pointed her inner compass and started running off, into the woods.

___

Author's Note:

... and off! she! goes!!! 😱 Will Negan be as understanding as he was the last time if he won't find Sally home? Stay tuned in and find out in the next installment.

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