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» THE STORM PT.2 «

I've Lost, And I've Lost, And I Just Keep Losing
(TW: Themes of suicide)

(3rd POV)

Heather dragged a finger along the frosted window, a small trail left in the steam. She looked through the clear parts to watch the storm outside, the blizzard causing havoc just an inch from her face.

"You might wanna stay away from the windows, kiddo." A low voice suggested, causing the child to turn with a glare. She had never met Negan before coming to Alexandria, but he didn't appear to live up to stories her mother told her. Maybe it was the drawn expression on his face, or the strangely cozy clothes he wore, but nothing about him screamed 'scary' to her.

"My mom said I should stay away from you." She commented, turning back to the window in defiance. She felt a need to disobey anything this man said to her.

"So you make a habit of not listening to people, huh?" He pointed out. He wasn't wrong, she had been peering through the bars of his cell most days as a form of entertainment and rebellion, but that was when no one else could see her. It would only be for an hour or so, making small conversation with him as he bounced a ball on the blocks of his room. But it was enough for them to create their own game- the goal was to stand several metres away and aim the ball through the bars. Ten points if it didn't touch the sides.

"Listen, kid, I'm the one that's gonna take all the heat when she comes to get you. I just didn't think you'd want that blood on your hands." Negan joked, his hands held up as high as they could, restricted by the ropes. Just because he was allowed out, doesn't mean he was free.

Alexandria was in a struggle during the hellish storm, causing the residents to flood between the largest houses for warmth and safety. Unfortunately, that included Negan himself.

Heather sighed, slumping down the wall beside the man. "She's probably not even coming." She shrugged dejectedly, her fingers picking at the rubber ball in her hand.

Even Negan, one of the most villainous people alive, felt a certain sympathy for the girl. He frowned at her disappointed words, his eyebrows furrowing genuinely. "Why wouldn't she?"

"I don't know, she's busy. I haven't seen her for a while 'cause she's got a lot of stuff to sort out." The child replied quietly. She was worried that if she spoke any louder her voice would break from emotion, and that wasn't something she could stand to do.

Heather loved her mother more than anyone in the world, but the last few months had been hard for them all. "It's safer there" was what Belle said when she dropped her daughter off in Alexandria, a weak smile on her lips as she said goodbye. She promised it wouldn't be long, just until the Hilltop was running smoothly again. That was a two months ago.

Negan shuffled lower, trying to meet her sad eyes. "I respect the shit out of your mom, your dad, too. And if you are anything like them then I know you can handle yourself."

Heather sniffled, her head perking up slightly. "You knew my dad?" She asked curiously, her fingers wiping her nose.

Negan nodded certainly. "Hell yeah, I did. He was one scary- I mean, not scary. Uh, badass- son of a bitch. Man, he woulda loved you. He gave you that hat, huh?"

Heather fumbled with the fabric surrounding her head, the worn brown hat comforting every time she wore it. "Mom said he wanted me to have it, so he can be with me forever. She said it was his dad's first." She smiled fondly at the past words. She couldn't remember a lot about her grandfather but it was enough to know he was the bravest man who ever lived. "I wanna be just like him when I grow up."