❝ YOU KNOW NOTHING ❞
–
The usual man that guarded the gates of Hilltop allowed entrance for Vada's familiar face. She parked the car along the outside of the fence, exited the vehicle with her brother by her side, and walked into the community.
"Haven't seen you in a while," the burly man said, adjusting his rifle strap. "Used to come by a lot."
It was true. Jesus had quite a vast library, biggest she'd seen seconding with Negan. He was happy to share his books with her, and she was happy to borrow them, although the last one he never got back.
"I haven't been in Alexandria," she said simply, deciding to leave it at that.
"Negan took her," Carl butted in, with a hardness to his tone.
Vada gave her brother a glare, opening her lips to speak before a familiar figure appeared in the corner of her eye. "Vada!"
"Jesus." She wrapped him in her arms, over top his thick, long hair, and nuzzled her face into his neck. He squeezed her tight and pulled back, adjusting his cap.
"It's been forever, come on." He placed a hand on her back and nodded his head toward the guard. "Close the gate. How are you, Carl?"
"Good," he mumbled, head twisting and turning. Jesus pointed to a row of housing. "Enid, Maggie, they should be in there. Sasha too, maybe."
Carl, without another word, left in that direction.
"Daryl told me," Jesus spoke, seeming timid. "He took you?"
"Yeah."
His sympathetic eyes made her nauseous. Disgusted with herself.
"Your friend is here. Came a few days ago, said you sent him. He told me Negan kicked him out because he didn't agree with his way of running things. He knew your name and gave me your note, so I gave him a chance." He nodded his head toward a flourishing garden along the side of the building, a boy hunched over it, patting down the soil. "He's been doing good."
Vada's heart sped up. She wrapped her arms around Jesus one last time, tighter than before. "Thank you for giving him a chance."
"Of course."
She wasted no time making her way over to her friend, dropping to her knees beside him. His head shot up and eyes widened. He scrambled to wrap his arms around her. "He said yes."
She breathed a laugh. "He said yes."
It seemed like a few minutes before he pulled away, his body relaxing and eyes softening. His hand swept through his sweaty hair. "I don't know if that's good or bad."
Vada eased back a bit. "What do you mean?"
"I just," he said, gripping his jaw with a long pause, "that just means this is a lot more serious than I thought it was."
She shuffled in the dirt. "What is?"
"Your relationship."
She swallowed, pulling at the grass with knitted brows. "I told you it was."
"I thought it was physical."
"He got rid of his wives," she said. "If it was physical he would have just made me one."
A man exited the doors of the large building, causing the two to freeze in place. He didn't spare them a glance, however, and walked straight past. Vada let out a sigh and shut her eyes, climbing to her feet. She wiped the dirt from her knees and held a hand out for Vincent, who took it and stumbled up.
"You have a place we can talk about this?" She asked. "Alone."
"We don't have to talk about Negan." He hung his head. "We've talked enough about him."
"I think we do."
He looked up. "Why?"
"Because we need to get on the same page."
It was about a minute before he responded. "I have a place."
He led her to one of the housing units on the right. It seemed small from the outside, creaky wooden steps, and a feeble cream colored wall. They entered together and Vincent situated himself on the double bed, foot rested on his knee. He seemed to be waiting for her to talk.
"I love Negan."
He looked left and right and seemed to wipe a bead of sweat running down his temple. He held his face in his palms and ran his fingers down his eyes, massaging his jaw. "Come on, Vada."
"I'm serious."
"How?" He stood up and began pacing the room. "How could you love him? When you got here, you, you hated him more than I did."
"Things change."
Vincent pressed his finger to his chin. "I still remember our first conversation." He stopped pacing and sat down. "Do you remember it?"
"Not well," she admitted.
"You were reading Don Quixote. I was reading The Body. You were reading over my shoulder, and we started talking about the library and all, and then you told me where you came from, and for a split second, I was worried because I thought you were the one Negan was keeping as prisoner. I was relieved because he didn't lock you in a cell, but you were still a prisoner. You were his prisoner." His hands were over his eyes. "You told me you were there to keep the prisoner alive, which can only mean Negan gave you an ultimatum. You come with him, or he kills the prisoner."
She wasn't sure what to say because as much as she didn't want to admit it, Vincent was right. Vincent was logical. He could see what she was doing was wrong. Yet love was such a blinding thing.
"You told me he took me because he wanted to make me his wife. You made me think he was some guy who threatened women into being with him."
"He threatened Sherry!" Vincent banged his fist against the table, making Vada stumble back a bit.
"His wives were for the image. They never slept with him unless they wanted to."
"Is that what he told you?"
"You know nothing, Vincent." She looked through the sliver of a window and saw Maggie, Carl, Enid, Sasha and Daryl seated on the stairs outside the house. They were chatting away, Daryl cleaning his blade, looking much healthier than he did at The Sanctuary. "We're done talking about Negan because obviously, we'll never be on the same page about it. But Vincent, if you want to be my friend, you're going to have to accept it."
Vincent rubbed his tired eyes. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but his lips stayed shut. Vada continued. "I love you, but what you did was out of line."
"I'm sorry about that."
There was a sadness in his eyes. Vada's heart clenched. "I'm sorry he saw."
"I'm not. Thank you for bringing me here."
She raised her lips into somewhat of a sympathetic smile and leaned against the window sill. "About that, you're free to come back to Alexandria, if that's what you want. I cleared it with my dad. He's happy to meet you."
Vincent got up from his seat and shuffled to the door. "I'll come with you."
"Good." She nodded, then Vincent opened the door and gave her one last glance.
"I've got to work."
"I'll be out of here in half an hour. Meet me by the gates."
The screen door banged shut and she watched him scoot over to the garden, falling to his knees once again. She left the tiny living area, out into the open, approaching her group of old friends. By the look on Daryl's face as he caught sight of her from afar, it was obvious Carl hadn't told them who he traveled with. With heavy steps, he hurried forward and inched his body to the side, looking her up and down.
"You got out?" He asked with his gruff voice.
"He let me go."
He didn't question it but hugged her back when she wrapped her arms around his neck. They stayed like that for a long moment, Daryl being the first to push away and take a few steps back.
"He hurt you?"
"No."
His eyes flickered down her body another time. With a slight nod of the head, he moved to the side, allowing her to see Maggie, who watched from a few meters away. Vada stood in place, heart quickening in her chest, wondering how she wouldn't crumble with guilt coming face to face with one of her best friends.
Taking a few long steps forward, she stopped in front of the steps she sat on. "How are you doing?"
Maggie smiled amiably and rubbed her hand down her stomach. "I'm holding up."
With uneasy breaths, Vada nodded and dropped her gaze to the ground.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm good." She nodded, brushing her hair behind her ears. "I'm doing really good."
"Who's that?" Carl asked abruptly, squinting into the distance. She followed his gaze and saw Vincent patting the dirt, kneeled in front of the brick house.
"Vincent." She kicked her foot beneath her and rubbed her heel in the dirt. "He's coming back with us."
Carl scrunched his face. "Why?"
"Negan kicked him out. He's my friend, so he's coming back with us."
The young boy adjusted the rim of his hat and nodded. Maggie said something to Sasha, Sasha said something back, and they were engaged in their own conversation. Daryl shoved the hilt of his blade in his jeans and nodded Vada over, leading her out of hearing range from the others.
"He keep you locked up?" He asked, shuffling uncomfortably.
She shook her head. "No."
"What'd you do?"
"I scavenged, then I worked in the library." She fiddled with the ends of her shirt. It was hard to make out the expressions on Daryl's face because he never made any. She knew he felt something like a regular person, but he didn't show it like others did. Although his pain and distress weren't something he made obvious, she knew his time back at The Sanctuary was hell. He'd never talk about it, though. She knew he wouldn't.
"He give you the star back?" He scratched his jaw and adjusted his button down shirt. He was clearly uncomfortable without his signature weapon by his side. "The one on the hat."
"I took it from him. I must have left it around somewhere, though, because he gave it back to me today."
"Sure you're okay?"
"As good as always." She linked her thumbs in the loops of her jeans and smiled at the ground. She didn't look up but assumed Daryl nodded before walking back to the group.
It was around thirty more minutes before they were out the gates. Vada stood chatting with Vincent, near the walls, waiting for Carl to be finished talking to Enid. Night was falling and she hoped they'd be home before dark.
When all the of them were in the car, Vincent shot gun, much to Carl's disliking, it didn't seem long before they were back at Alexandria. The sunset hit its peak as they stepped from the car and entered the familiar gates.
"Welcome to Alexandria," Vada mumbled to Vincent. "A suburban area. Not quite as quaint as Hilltop, but you'll get used to it."
"Anything's better than that factory."
Although she enjoyed her time in it, she would admit that she did hate the look of The Sanctuary. The only thing she liked was Negan's room, an anomaly to the rest of the building.
Rick paced down the street and nodded in greeting to Vada. He stopped in front of the two, then turned to Vincent and held out his hand. The young man took it and gave it a firm shake.
"I'm Rick."
"Vincent."
He informed his daughter that he'd have to question Vincent for a few moments. With that, they were off, but Vada didn't wait to see where.
***
On Friday morning, Vada was up at the crack of dawn. She didn't agree to meet Negan until later in the day, so she made herself enough breakfast for her and her family, then hit the streets of Alexandria.
Vincent was on his porch deep into a book when she interrupted him, positioning herself on the ledge.
"Let me guess. Stephen King?"
"Dickens."
Vada made a sound of gratification and slowly clapped her hands. "Cracking the classics, huh? Which one?"
"Oliver Twist."
"Never read it."
Vincent tilted his head up in shock "There's a book you haven't read?"
"Very funny."
"Thank you." She snatched the book from his hands. "Well, what's it about?"
"I don't know, I just started it."
"Wanna know my favorite classic?" She asked, tapping her fingers along the spine of the book.
"Don Quixote?"
"No, Jane Eyre. It's really good."
He cocked a brow. "For teenage girls."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." She tossed the book back on his lap. "I'm not even a teenager."
The boy squinted. "How old are you?"
"Twenty."
"Jesus."
"What?"
"Negan's like, three times your age." He twisted his face in disgust and folded over the corner of his page, placing the book on the arm rest.
"Try twice."
"Really?"
"Twice and a quarter, maybe."
"So the same age as your dad?"
Vada lowered her brows and gave Vincent a disgruntled look. He smiled sheepishly and stood from his chair, putting his hands on his hips, beginning to pace slowly back and forth.
"When're you seeing him next?" He asked.
"Tonight."
His head shot up. "You just got back."
"It's been three days."
"You sure your dad's gonna be fine with it?"
"Knowing him, no. Not this soon. But I'm gonna talk to him. What'd he ask you, anyway, when you first got here?" She said, scratching up and down her neck. She never got around to asking him.
"A couple questions, nothing much."
"Well, I did speak very highly of you."
"Thank you for that."
She was going to leave when he reached out and grasped her forearm, turning her back around. "I want you to know that if this is what you want, then I'll go along with it. I won't pull any more shit like I did. I just want you to be happy."
Vada raised her lips and nodded, wrapping her arms around his body for a short hug. He hugged back, then she set off for her home to inform her dad that she'd be gone for the day.
When she got there he was in the kitchen scarfing down the breakfast she'd cooked.
"Is it good?"
"Amazing," he answered. "You've always been able to cook like your mother."
That was the greatest compliment he could pay her in terms of cooking. Her mother was a magnificent chef, with beautiful food on the table nearly every night. Although she didn't enjoy it as much as her mother did, they were nearly on the same level.
"Not quite as well." She laughed lightheartedly and made herself a second plate.
"I beg to differ." He scraped the remains and shoveled them into his mouth.
"So." She opened the fridge and poured herself a glass of orange juice. "In terms of runs, going out on my own, is that fine with you yet?"
Rick, hesitation flickering through his eyes, scratched his beard and got up from his seat. "I don't think it's a great idea just yet."
"I need to get out on my own, Dad." She crossed her feet and guiltily eyed the ground.
"Can't you wait?" He scratched his nape. "Can't you wait, maybe a week?"
"A week's not gonna change anything."
"You're just like your brother, you know that?" He looked over his shoulder. "Stubborn."
"You're just like mom."
"Your mother was a smart woman."
"I know."
Rick tilted his head up and ran his hand down his beard, emitting a long sigh. "You can go. But for the love of God, be safe."
And with that, she was off.