"Your father is looking for you," a woman informed Bailey upon DJ waking her up.
Bailey stretched and looked around. Not much time had passed. She was irritated that someone intruded on her relaxing time.
"Where is he?" Bailey asked the woman.
The woman flinched when Bailey stood up and threw her jacket over one shoulder.
"He's.. making dinner.."
"My dad?" Bailey repeated. "He doesn't cook."
"Well, he's.. he's at Rick's house.. and.."
"Who's Rick?" Bailey wondered.
"Rick is our leader.. He's not here right now.. But, Negan-"
"God," Bailey complained. "Just show me the way. I'll ask him."
The woman scurried off. Bailey scoffed, admittedly annoyed, and followed her. DJ stuck close behind.
Once they arrive at a porch, the woman motions to the door. "He's in there."
Bailey relieved DJ of his work and he stepped off the porch, keeping watch outside the house. Bailey walked inside and her stomach growled as she smelled the food in the air.
"Bug, is that you?" Negan called.
"Yeah," Bailey said. She hung her jacket on the coat rack by the door and hesitated.
Something was so.. nostalgic.
The smell in the air was spaghetti. More specifically, Negan's mother's recipe. Bailey missed her grandmother deeply- the woman had passed away when Bailey was only seven or so. She used to make her own spaghetti from scratch for holidays and such.. Back then, Bailey complained about it always being the same. Now, she missed those holidays and family gatherings.
Bailey stared at her jacket on the rack. The Smith family had a rack set up like this.. The act of coming inside a house to the smell of her grandmother's food and hanging her jacket was a memory now. It felt like deja vu.
She slowly stepped into the kitchen. She almost expected to see her mother waiting at the table.
"There you are," Negan commented. "Wanna taste? Tell me if I got it right."
Bailey blinked the tears away that grew in her eyes.
Deja vu was horrible.
Because no matter how badly she wanted it, she could never go back to those days.
Negan cooking, Lucille setting the table, Bailey fresh home from school.
She looked at the back of Negan's head. Now, Negan was a murderer. This place he was playing pretend in was someone else's. Lucille was dead. Nothing would ever be good or safe again.
Bailey cursed herself internally for getting wrapped up in the nostalgia of it all as the reality came crashing back down into her.
She cleared her throat and snapped herself upright. She wasn't that little girl anymore. She had to play the part. Fake it until she made it. Or at least until she put an end to all this torment.
Carl was setting the table. He watched as Bailey rounded the table and sighed to himself. His bandage covering his eye was gone- leaving his wound on full display.
"I think I did Mama Smith justice," Negan said, holding the wooden spoon out for Bailey to taste.
She begrudgingly tasted the sauce, then nodded stiffly.
"Good?" Negan asked.
"Mhm," Bailey responded with a tight-lipped, forced smile.
"Have you seen your mini-me?"
Bailey tilted her head in confusion.
"Carl's baby sister," Negan clarified. "Her hair.. those eyes.. Well, she looks like a spitting image of when you were growing up."
Bailey turned around, hoping to catch her breath. But, the woman who got her walked into the kitchen with a toddler in her arms.
The resemblance was there. Little Judith sure did look like Bailey when she was that age. Blonde hair, brown eyes, and button nose.. Even the haircut was similar to some of the pictures Lucille had of Bailey.
Bailey bit her tongue upon realizing she wasn't the only one having nostalgia. So was her father.
But, while Bailey shook herself out of the spell, Negan leaned further into it.
The cooking. The little girl. The home.
Bailey glanced at him again and realized Negan had even shaved. He looked just as he did before he lost his job. Put together. Clean.
She felt so much rage build inside her. More than ever before.
"Oh, Bug, that there is Olivia. You already know Carl. Your mini-me is Judith," Negan informed with his back turned, still cooking.
Bailey locked eyes with Olivia. She was helping prepare drinks.
"What is this?" Bailey asked her father.
"It's dinner," he answered.
Bailey stormed back to her father and pushed his shoulder, forcing him to look down at her.
"Bug?" he asked, concerned.
"If you want to play make-believe, whatever. I don't want to play pretend. It's bullshit," she snapped, unable to hold herself back.
Olivia gasped at the audacity someone had to stand up to Negan so bravely without hesitation.
"I.. I thought this would be a nice surprise for you-"
"No!" Bailey shouted, making Olivia and Carl flinch and watch the two carefully- Judith still fast asleep on Olivia's shoulder.
"It's patronizing and disrespectful," Bailey stated. "And Mom would be disgusted."
"Bug.. I didn't.. I.." Negan stuttered over his words.
Carl squinted. He's never seen Negan look nervous or anything.. but, Bailey knocked him down without batting an eye.
Bailey stormed back to the door and picked her jacket off the rack. "I'm taking DJ and Harold. I'll be at Gavin's."
The door slammed shut behind her. Negan sighed and stared at the spaghetti. An even more awkward silence filled the air. Olivia and Carl looked at one another.
It took Negan a minute or so to gather himself. He cleared his throat and moved a bowl closer. Then he continued cooking- though Carl and Olivia could see that Negan's pride was wounded.