When Mal woke up the next morning, she was momentarily disoriented, not recognizing the room she was in. Her mind reeled in panic for a moment- Where the kids? AJ? Everyone? Where the hell am I?
It took a minute to come back fully to herself, remembering where she was. She flopped back against the pillows, allowing herself a moment to just enjoy the softness, the warmth and comfort of a real bed, of blankets and sheets and a mattress beneath her.
She thought back to last night, to Negan outside with her, how he'd been so kind to her. He ruminated on the gentle words, the offer to come to her if Mal ever woke up like that again, the feeling of lips on her forehead that had lingered long after they'd said their goodnights and parted ways.
She was ashamed to admit that she'd nearly asked Negan to stay with her then. In her moment of shaky weakness, she very much wanted to request that Negan keep her company until she fell back asleep, talk to her until she drifted out of consciousness like they'd done alone at night. She always slept so much better then.
As it was, she had replayed the memory of Negan's lips on her forehead and his surprisingly soft-spoken words in her head until she'd fallen asleep alone. And it seemed to work- she had slept much less fitfully, not waking up until just now. She rolled over in bed and checked Negan's watch. It was just past eight.
She rolled out of bed, padding barefoot down the hall to check on the kids and AJ- only to find her friends at the table, the kids on the floor playing truth or dare, Max sitting at the counter and Judith toddling around underfoot while Negan worked away over the stove.
A warm, sweet scent filled the kitchen, and Mal leaned over the counter to get a better look after greeting her friends and the kids. "Are those...pancakes?"
Negan swung around, artfully flipping a pancake in the skillet. "Sure as shit are, Mal! We've got blueberry and plain, which kind d'you want?"
"Language," Mal chided halfheartedly, still eyeing the pan hungrily, mouth watering. "And blueberry."
It was a strange and wonderful thing, eating blueberry pancakes in her- her!- kitchen with her friends and the children and Negan. It was very nearly normal.
She was still in the good mood that pancakes and domestic mornings provided while her friends were giving eye brow raising looks at Mal, wondering where she slept, and Mal avoided answering. while he was out on his morning patrol.
Before they were about to head out, Mal packed everything she needed in her pack, and chose to wear the jacket that Vix made. She left towards the second floor where Mal didn't want to go to, however, Mal thought about getting a hair cut. Cut some dead ends, and maybe thin it since it was so thick and heavy her neck sweats profoundly.
Knocking on the door, a large dark woman with golden brown skin, mixed of Asian and Arabian opened the door; a disgusted look glared at Mal. And Mal grinned, entering without permission.
"Hello, sluts," she said.
Catherine smiled. Mal liked her more than the other of Negan's wives. She was more sensible on keeping things to herself. She did it for points- sure she likes the pleasure, but isn't like an animal releasing their heat.
"I heard one of your ladies cut hair. Want a trim and maybe make this hair less thick." Mal suggested, looking at the cowering women. Sarah, the bleached white hair, left the room, avoiding eye contract with Mal because of the incident last year when she knocked her flat and tried to escape. She did deserve a good smack.
"I'm the hairstylist, names Danielle. You take a seat in there." She said.
"Alright, then." She settled herself in one of the chairs at the makeup table, and Danielle set to work on her hair, wetting it first using water from the kitchen sink and then snipping away with a sharp pair of scissors she'd run home quickly to get. Danielle chatted conversationally about the Saviors going off and- God, Mal could rip her ears off to be in peace- about Negan as some of the ladies were agreeing about something nasty about him, chunks of dark hair dusting the shoulders of Mal's jacket.
"Done. How's that feel?" Danielle asked.
Mal reached back again feeling. The long hair was up to her shoulder blades, no longer thick under her fingers. She felt lighter without it, and it no longer was as much too thick. "Feels great. Loads better, thanks." Danielle dusted the hair off her shoulders and she stood. "Here. I'll give you half a notion of points."
Danielle tucked the scissors away in her package. "Oh, sweetie. You don't have too."
Mal waved her off. "It's fine. Better do it or Negan will give me a smack upon the head or Ellie would."
"He wouldn't. He cares about you too much."
Mal suddenly and inexplicably found it hard to look Danielle in the eye. Her gaze dropped to the grey of the carpet.
When the door closed behind Mal, she made her way outside, walking pass the railing where the stream is calm, and came over to the group, Negan, the RK's and the kids waiting there; and Negan nearly did a double take at the sight of her.
"You, uh... your hair is different," Negan blinked at her. Her hair was still long but thin, smooth, less thick and wild. She was dressed in a badass jacket than Negan had, applause to Vix. She looked...softer like this, her face less intense without the thick hair being tangled. Mal ran her fingers along her hair.
"Yeah. I, uh. Looked in the mirror and barely recognized myself. Before and after." Negan moved forward, hand outstretched. Mal tilted her head to the side, letting Negan feel her hair. Negan let his fingers linger on the smooth hair for a moment before he pulled his hand away. "It's a, uh...It's a good look on you. I mean, the bushy hair was badass, don't get me wrong, but you looked like a damn wildman. Probably would have scared some of the people here."
Mal chuckled, and Negan was glad to see the her seemed to be in better spirits.
"So, are we ready?"
"We are. Just take your time."
Mal went over to her friends when she spots Max all dressed up and armed with his gun. "What's this?"
Lugh sighed. "He's coming with you."
"What?"
"I am." Said Max. "I know I'm still young, but I want to help the Sanctuary. To understand what war is. Some day I would have to face it, right?"
Mal nodded, struggling to accept his offer. Then she flicks his hair up, earning a smile. "Of course. Just listen to any of us and obey, ok?"
He nodded, and headed to the car Mal will be in."
"You be careful, Mally." Lalon said, hesitate on giving her hug when she reaches over and wraps him around. Lugh joins in, as well as Vix, giving a tight yet comforting group hug. Mal then goes to the kids, kissing their foreheads and squeezed the living heck out of Mal.
"You guys behave, especially you Killeen."
Killeen scoffs. "I will."
"I'll keep a watch on him," said Johan.
Mal waves and heads to Negan. "So, where first?"
"We will drive to a place forty miles east and meet a particular group of a Bounty Hunter and get some help."
"That's why we don't have much Saviors?" She asked.
"I know this woman, and she had problems with the Claimers. Some of her people were taken and never brought back. Now, Mal, you sure you're absolutely fucking ready?"
"I am."
-:-:-:-:-
By 459 miles, they often stopped at place- a lot were stripped clean which became a useless things to do yet there was so much gas to take. And then there was a low rumble overhead. Mal's eyes turned up to the sky, and just like that, rain poured down, cool and wet and cleansing, soaking them all in the middle of the road. Jack found a farm and rolled the cars inside the place and took inside. Thankfully, the barn was clear with the exception of one walker holed up in a stall to the side. After Ronald quickly took it out, the group hurried inside, eager to get out of the downpour. Mal nudged her boot into the ground, scuffing up hard-packed dirt.
"We should build a fire. Dry off." The others nodded at Negan, setting to work, gathering looks planks of wood and some bricks to keep it from spreading, and before long they were gathered around a small flame, damp clothes slowly drying. Mal settled in beside Negan, feeling strangely at peace. The barn was hardly an ideal shelter, but it was something, a place to rest for the night and wait out the storm. They had water, food, their cars, and weapons, they had each other. For the night, everything seemed like it would be okay.
Negan's presence beside her shouldn't have been calming, but, somehow, it was. Mal would never say it aloud, but ever since she'd put her trust in Negan, she felt more steady with the man by her side. It had been irrational at first, she knew. Her brain's desperate attempt at comfort and stability in the wake of what had happened to her, never mind that she and Negan hardly knew each other. But now, after these last months, about a year, of being together, with their nightly talks and Negan's cautious, respectful touches, she felt better about it. She no longer feared that the trust she had in the other man was misguided. Negan could be an asshole sometimes, certainly, but he was an asshole who, in his own way, almost seemed to care about Mal. And maybe it was juvenile, selfish, ridiculous, but it was comforting to have someone who cared about him particularly.
Mal glanced over at Max, who was sleeping soundly, curled on the floor. He looked so young, was so young. Mal forgot that sometimes, and she had to scold herself for it. After everything, she's proud how grown up he is.
They continued to talk well into the night as the storm raged on outside. Mal's eyes bounced around from person to person, watching vigilantly as Negan dozed beside her.
There was a sudden weight against Mal's right side, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. As it was, she sucked in a shocked breath that made one Savior turn and look at her strangely. Negan had slumped over in his sleep, his head on Mal's shoulder. Mal looked at the man leaning on her for a second, considering pushing him away or waking him up, but...Mal realized she didn't mind. Negan was sleeping peacefully despite the way the rain was hammering down on the barn's tin roof, and Mal didn't feel remotely threatened. So she just sat back, trying and failing to bite back an amused smile. She caught the man's eye again, and he was giving her a look...more of confusion, but he forgets it, turning in his head.
A sudden crash from the front of the barn had her thoughts pulled elsewhere, and Negan startled awake against her.
"The fuck-"
Another crash against the front doors and the telltale sounds of snarling and scratching rose over the sounds of the storm. Mal leaped to her feet to see two of the Saviors throwing themselves against the barn doors, which were threatening to burst open.
Everyone sprang into action, running to help, piling against the heavy wooden doors. Mal slammed into them beside Bud, Negan behind her, and she could feel the way the wood shook under her, the weight of God-only-knows how many undead bodies trying to break inside. Seconds later, Mal found herself surrounded by the other members of her group, and, as much as it was not the time for this to be happening, she felt the icy shiver of fear rushing through her.
Close. They're too close.
She wasn't sure who was pressed on either side of her, but she wasn't really sure that it mattered. She could feel herself taking quick, panicky breaths, her fingers trembling against the wood. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to focus on the sounds of the rain, of the groaning from the other side of the doors, anything to ground her in the moment, but the fear won out. Harsh images flashed through her mind each time someone jostled her or pressed against her.
Charlie, shoving her onto her stomach, the cold of concrete against her bare skin. Sharp, ripping pain shooting up her spine and down her legs, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Vulgar, mocking words from behind her, so cruel that Mal felt them like they were being cut into her skin-
"Mal. Mal." A different voice, deep and gravelly and worried, was behind her now. She opened her eyes, tilting her head to see Negan over her shoulder, eyes wide with panic that Mal knew for sure was a reflection of her own expression. Negan's shoulder was pressed against the door, one hand beside Mal's head, and then it was off the door, hovering beside Mal, a question, always a question: Is this okay?
Mal nodded, and then Negan's arm was around her, using his body to shield Mal's. His hand rested above Mal's on the door, and Mal could hear the soft, whispered words falling from Negan's lips like cleansing rain:
You're okay, you're okay, it's okay.