Chapter 4
Zoey stares blankly at the ceiling, watching the early morning strands sunlight lazily crawl across the surface. It’s pretty, in a vague, distant way. Kind of like living shades of bright yellow and soft oranges slowly dancing with each other in harmonious chaos. It’s... peaceful.
It’s really too bad her brain won’t get the hint.
Not even sleep was able to erase the image of blood slowly marching across the floor through the bars. She can’t get the bloody pictures out of her head, she can’t think of anything other than the fact that the woman she once called Mom killed herself on the bars of her cell. Zoey only had a second to take in what happened before Harry could pull her away but that second will forever be burned into her brain. She will never be able to forget what it looks like. Every time she closes her eyes, the image comes back, crystal clear and sharp as if she’s looking at it all over again.
Zoey covers her face with her hand. The tears come again, leaking over the sides of her face into her ears and hair. She clutches her blanket with her other hand, trying her best to keep her sobs as soundless as possible.
“Think she’s gonna come out today?”
Zoey quickly swipes away the evidence, breathing carefully through her mouth because her nose is too clogged. She turns over onto her side facing the wall and pulls the blanket up over her as she hears Ma saying, “Just leave her be. We don’t have to do it right now.”
Zoey doesn’t want to leave her room, much less leave Sanctuary.
“Everything is ready, Anton’s waiting and we have other stuff to prepare for. We need to get this done today.”
“Negan, leave it,” Harry’s voice comes, hard and very firm. He only uses that tone when he means business. Zoey’s only been on the receiving end of it a few times, mostly when Harry is angry and disappointed in her. “There’s no rush. Let her come out on her own.”
“We do that and she’ll never come out.”
“It should be her choice, not yours,” Harry replies flatly.
“The body is already rotting. It’s going to be rank and falling apart by now. I’m going in to get her-”
“Negan!” Ma exclaims, sounding scandalized. “You go in there and I will drag you back out by your balls!”
Normally, when Ma cusses, Zoey’s shocked and completely taken aback. The few times Ma lost patience with Dad, she would threaten him with a smack or with the couch. It’s the first time Ma threatened something to do something that severely and it was very effective in keeping her door from being barged through.
Dad huffs loud enough to be heard through the walls and growls out, “Fine, I’ll go check the damn preparations again. We’re not going to delay this another day, Lucille. I suggest you figure out how to get her out of there before I go ahead and put the damn bitch into the ground myself.”
A door slams shut.
Zoey doesn’t want to go out there. She wants to stay in her room and stare at the wall and try not to think about that awful scene. She doesn’t want to go out there to bury Zia, not when all Zoey can think about is how her bio-Mom abandoned her again without warning. Zoey doesn’t even have the answers she wanted.
Now both of her biological parents are dead and Zoey has nothing to show for it.
Zoey ducks under the covers when she hears footsteps in the hall. She thought someone was going to open the door and try to convince her to leave but she won’t. They can try until the sun goes back down, Zoey isn’t doing it. She can’t-won’t-
“Hey,” Harry’s voice drifts through the door. “I know you’re not-well, up to it but we do need to lay her to rest. You don’t have to come but... I think you should, for closure if nothing else. Consider it, we’ll be leaving in half an hour.”
Zoey hears him walk away from the door without even touching it. A touch of gratitude makes it through the miserable numbness; she’s been hearing Dad’s complaining through the thin walls. She isn’t sure what she would’ve done if Dad had come in, demanding her to get up or dumping water on her but she probably wouldn’t react well.
Now the question is... can she go out there? Can she face what’s waiting for her? She’s attended more than a few burials of those that didn’t turn and even more burnings for those who did but none of them were... they weren’t as... close to home as this one is. They didn’t matter to her as much, as callous as that sounds. They were simply fellow survivors, working together to make it to the next day, not...
Zoey sighs as she carelessly pushes the blanket away, half sitting up to look at her walls. There are some bare spaces but most of what she can reach is covered in the posters and pictures Zoey found while making runs. The wall at the foot of her bed has ripped magazine pages plastered all over it of articles and photos she found interesting. The short shelf next to her bed is completely packed with the books she brought back over the months, all read multiple times when she got bored. Little figurines that caught her eye lines the top, next to an old fashioned alarm clock that no longer works and a pile of blank loose leaf paper. A cup filled with a small assortment of pencils and pens takes up the far corner, ready to dispense the desired writing tool when the mood strikes her. A sturdy dresser sits under the window, a pile of clean, folded clothes sitting on top waiting to be put away.
Her room is otherwise bare but... it feels more like hers than her old room ever did, back in Atlanta. She built this space for herself, instead of sitting in constant reminders that her bio-Dad wasn’t around anymore. In the years since he died, Zoey’s room remained the same, like it had become frozen in time. Here, she feels like this is what her room was meant to feel like, not that old space that never changed.
Somehow, noticing that, Zoey finds herself a smidgen less reluctant to leave her bed. She stretches her legs out over the side and then slowly stands, finding herself stiff and sore. It fades a bit as she halfheartedly picks through the pile of clothes, pulling out a black shirt and dark jeans. Supposed to wear black to funerals, Zoey remembers as she starts getting dressed. She’s not going to bother with a shower, she doesn’t feel like it and she doesn’t care enough to make a fuss.
She sighs as she sits on the edge of her bed, leaning down to reach underneath. She pulls out the shoes she carelessly kicked down there at some point and pulls them on, finding the simple action exhausting. She pauses to stare forward in abject confusion, wondering why she’s even bothering. Zia wanted nothing to do with Zoey in life, why should she make the effort to attend the funeral? Why should Zoey even bother caring? It’s not going to change anything. Zia is still dead, whether she’s buried or not. Zoey will never have the answers she’s looking for now. She will never know why her biological Mother hated her enough to abandon her and that just-
It just sucks.
Zoey miserably stands, refusing to think about it anymore. She’s tired and numb and she just wants to get this over with. Besides, Zoey knows she’ll have Harry there for sure. There’s no way he’ll let her do this by herself. It brings her enough comfort to pull on her poker face and leave the room for the first time in two days.
Zoey keeps her eyes on the floor as she heads first into the bathroom. She closes the door and gets her business done, unhappily eyeing the mess of her braid-less curls. They stick out everywhere in some kind of attempt at a rat’s nest and normally, Zoey would try to tame it into something less chaotic but she just doesn’t care. She drops her eyes as she washes her hands and then leaves the bathroom.
“Oh, Zoey-” Ma is standing near the table. She goes to approach Zoey but the teen is not in the mood to be comforted right now.
“Let’s go,” Zoey says to the room curtly, opening the door and walking out before anything else can be said. She just wants to get this done so she can return to her room and experiment on how long she can lay in bed before she fuses to it.
---
Stares follow her all the way down the tower.
Zoey keeps her eyes on the floor but she can feel every stare as they pass. Harry’s just a step behind her, comforting in his proximity and silence. Zoey can hear Ma somewhere behind them, occasionally speaking to someone in a low tone.
Zoey has to shadow her eyes when she steps out, the sun much brighter than she’d expected. The muggy morning air instantly coats her skin and makes it hard to breath, heat pressing down on her shoulders. Stepping down the stairs, Zoey keeps her eyes averted even from those who happen to look up at her and stop what they’re doing. Their attention makes her uncomfortable and anxious, unsure why they feel the need to stare when it isn’t the first funeral Sanctuary’s had.
“Please resume your duties,” Ma requests in a kind but firm tone. Almost everyone starts and turns away, talking to each other in low murmurs as they do as told. Some glance back once more, ducking their heads when their eyes shift and catch on something. Zoey doesn’t care enough to see what spooked them, moodily heading towards where she can hear Dad talking to someone.
Near the gate, Dad’s preferred black truck and two grey trucks sit with a small crowd of people. Cindy, Sandra and Diego are the first Zoey recognizes, followed by Anton, Emillia, Darren, Jake and Tina. There are about five other Saviors milling about, armed and looking entirely bored. Dad comes walking around the other side of the truck with Simon, talking about something and gesturing to the city.
Emillia sees Zoey first. Her face lights up a little as she nudges Jake and Darren. They immediately catch sight of Zoey and all three make their way closer, Tina following behind after their abrupt departure draws her attention. Zoey pauses as they quickly approach her, wondering why they’re here. Don’t they have chores to do?
“Zoey,” Emillia greets, her voice a bit sad. “Hey.”
Jake looks uncomfortable as he says, “Sorry about your Mom.”
Ah, that’s why they’re here. Zoey purses her lips and looks away, feeling even more awkward now, “Yeah.”
“We’ll be with the trucks, Zo,” Harry suddenly murmurs into her ear.
Zoey starts a little, not having expected it. She nods a little, watching as both Harry and Ma step around her to continue to the trucks.
“Hey, Zoey,” Tina smiles sadly, waving a little. “How you holding up?”
Zoey glances between them, her eyes lingering on Darren a second longer but ultimately, her gaze drops to the ground, “I’m fine, you guys. It’s just another funeral, okay?”
“But this time, it’s personal,” Emillia pipes up, earnestness in her tone. “It’s not some nobody that did something stupid, it’s your bio-Mom.”
Like I needed the reminder, Zoey thinks sarcastically as she tries not to let her disdain show. “I know.”
“We just wanted to show you that you’re not alone,” Tina says kindly. “We’re here for you, if you want.”
“Well, just here,” Darren specifies, pointing to the ground. “Negan’s not letting us go with, so we’ll see you when you get back.”
Emillia rolls her eyes, “That’s what she meant, Darren.”
“I was just sayin’-!” Darren retorts, only for Jake to elbow his ribs and cut him off.
“Guys,” Jake frowns at both of them. “Not helping.”
Zoey’s patience isn’t what it’s supposed to be and she feels it fraying even as Emillia and Darren exchange petulant glares. Dad’s impatient waving from the trucks gives her the excuse she needs to escape the increasingly awkward conversation.
“Thanks but I need to get going. I’ll see you guys... later, I guess,” Zoey says as she steps through them.
“Good luck,” Tina’s voice drifts after her.
For what? Zoey thinks to herself bitterly. It’s a burial and apparently all the preparations are done. If some Biters come through to ruin things, Zoey thinks it would be only right. She would certainly welcome killing Biters than dealing with... this.
“Finally,” Dad grumps as he opens his truck door. “Let’s get this shindig over with.”
Let’s, Zoey agrees as she climbs in.
Ma waves from the gates until they’re out of sight.
---
Zoey isn't dumb.
Sure, she can be naive and not know things until someone tells her but that doesn't mean she's dumb. She knows her multiplication tables, can recite an impressive list of insults in Spanish even if she can't really speak it all that well yet and can kick ass if she tries hard enough. She got straight A's in school and spent most of her time studying. She can take on Biters and go on runs and clear a building with the best of them.
She's not dumb, okay?
She just feels really dumb right now.
In all the time Zia had been locked up, it had never occurred to Zoey that her bio-Mom was that sick. It didn't even cross her mind that Zia would go that far, would do something so horrible to herself. And for what? Zoey can't understand it, can't wrap her mind around any of it. How can someone want to die so badly that they would- that Zia would- it’s… it’s mind boggling, like trying to fit a square into a round hole. It doesn't fit and it never will.
Zoey watches Diego and Dad lower Zia's white wrapped body into the hole they dug. The day is still overcast and so hot that sweat rolls down her neck even though she's just standing around. Harry has an arm around her shoulders, offering his silent support. Zoey can barely feel it, so wrapped up in her thoughts and emotions that the world around her seems distant and blurred. Cindy stands on Zoey's other side, one arm hooked through Zoey’s and her calloused hand lain on top in a comforting hold. Zoey hears Sandra right behind her, the older woman’s breathing possessing a slight rasp.
Anton stands on the other side of the hole and begins speaking as Dad and Diego start to shovel the dirt back in. Little by little, the white material disappears under brown soil, the words turning into a buzzing drone. Gradually, the hole is filled and the talking is done, the dulled thuds of shovels tapering into silence. Then, Diego leaves, placing a hand on Zoey's upper arm as he goes. Anton follows, his worn Bible securely pressed against his chest. Cindy murmurs something as she rests her hand on the back of Zoey's neck, giving a brief squeeze before turning to go as well. Sandra sighs as she pats Zoey’s back, murmuring something to her that she doesn’t hear.
Zoey doesn’t look away from the mound of dirt.
Dad stabs the shovel into the ground nearby and rubs the back of his neck. Then he comes over to stand where Cindy was. Harry's arm falls away and Dad's longer thicker arm takes its place. He pulls Zoey to him, making her curl into his side a little and the contact, the comfort, somehow seeps in far more effectively than Harry's. Dad squeezes her gently, smelling like grass and dirt wrapped in leather and the scent is so soothing that it's like a flip is switched inside.
Zoey sobs, turning into Dad's side and wrapping her arms around him, "Why did she do it, Dad?"
"Sometimes there just isn't a reason, Zo," Dad rumbles solemnly, rubbing Zoey's back. "She was sick. I didn't think she was that sick but hindsight and all that shit. What she did-it…" a great big sigh and Dad kisses the top of her head. "It only makes sense to her. It's not your fault and it had nothing to do with you, okay?"
"It did, though!" Zoey argues, pulling back and looking up at him. "She was down there because of me!"
Dad frowns and replies sternly, "No, she was there because of me. I put her there. I decided to keep her there. I didn't put padding in her cell, even though I knew she was hurting herself."
Shocked, Zoey steps back, "What?"
Dad sighs, gritting his teeth and then saying, "I didn't think- I didn't want to release her when I found out how violent she was. Lucille and I decided it was the safest way to deal with her. We couldn't ship her off and we couldn't cut her loose. People like her- Zo, you gotta understand-"
"Understand what?" Zoey snaps, taking another step back. Dad looks at her in surprise. "That was my Mom. I'm half her. Are you gonna lock me up?"
Dad rears back, "What? No! What the fuck-"
"Whatever was wrong with her might be in me!" Zoey blurts out, her bottom lip beginning to tremble. She jerks her arm at the grave, "Are you going to lock me up, too? Throw away the fucking key?"
"Zoey! I know you're angry, sweetie. I know it hurts-"
The anger rears up, thick and visceral and unlike anything Zoey has ever felt before. It overwhelms her and suddenly all the feelings she had pushed down regarding her Mom spill over, "You don't know shit! My Mom is dead because of you! Why didn't you fucking do something!"
"What was I supposed to do, Zo?" Dad bursts out angrily. "I have an entire community to run and look after! She abandoned you, in case you forgot. That wasn't your Mom. From what you told us, she never was!"
It was almost like a slap to the face. Zoey very nearly derails but the hurt and guilt and anger just get thicker and hotter, like raking hot coals. She doesn't know where to direct it and though she tries to shove it down, it only rises more and more, like a volcano reaching the point of eruption.
Dad pinches the bridge of his nose, backing off, "Sweetie, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to pull all this shit on you. It's just-I hate seeing you so sad over someone that treated you so badly. I know I don't have any fucking right to tell you who you can love and not love but fuck, Zo. She doesn't-didn't deserve you, okay?"
She knows. Zoey isn't dumb. She knows Zia was a horrible mother. She knows but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. It doesn't erase the need Zoey feels, wanting Zia to love her like a mother should. Zoey tried so hard after her Dad died to connect with her Mom but she was never around and when she was, it was thick silences and deliberate ignorance. Then all this happened and Zoey wanted answers to why Zia abandoned her. Why didn't Zia love her? Why couldn't her Mom just tell her? What was so hard about the truth that couldn’t be said?
Why couldn’t her Mom just love her?
Zoey turns away and stares at the mound of dirt miserably, "Just leave me alone."
"Zo…"
"Just go," Zoey snaps angrily. "I don't want to talk to you anymore."
Dad sighs. She can hear him and Harry murmur to each other. After a few minutes, Harry rejoins her side. He doesn't touch her, which, for some reason, makes her feel incredibly alone but he does stand there silently.
Not for the first time, Zoey notes the utter lack of mumbling. She misses the constant stream of chatter, the safety in knowing exactly what her brother is feeling and thinking. It had felt like there was nothing Harry could hide from her and therefore, gave Zoey the comfort she needed in knowing exactly where she stands. His silence now does nothing to comfort her.
Zoey stares hard at the mound of dirt that hides the woman that birthed her. She wonders if she stares hard enough, if the dirt will magically revert back to the way it was before they dug the hole and hide where Zia was buried. The broiling emotions under the surface of Zoey's skin makes her feel tight and wound, ready to burst at the slightest provocation. She's never felt so ready to jump out of her own skin before.
Harry moves away suddenly. Zoey follows his profile from the corner of her eyes as he goes up to a large rock. It has a flat-ish surface jutting upwards but the rest of it is round, moss growing up one side and the bottom lined with moist dirt. He takes out a knife and begins to scratch at the flat part. When he does nothing else, Zoey tunes him out, her eyes returning to the disturbed dirt.
As the minutes pass, it gets more and more muggy. The thick, wet heat clings to her skin and hair, dragging her bedraggled curls down into limp locks. Sweat skates down her neck, arms and back, soaking her shirt and pants. She looks up to the sky. The clouds covering most of the blue sky are an ominous grey, patches of darkness here and there like a colourless quilted blanket. She remembers Abuela's stories about Heaven and Hell, why thunder rolls so loudly and lightning flashes so brightly. Stories of the Bible. The times she reminisced about her childhood and upbringing. Those stories were nice to listen to, as it brought Zoey a bit of perspective on different things and she liked the time spent being the sole focus of Abuela's adoration.
The scrape of knife on stone continues.
Zoey wonders if Heaven and Hell are real. She wonders if Zia was bad enough to head downstairs or if she begged God's forgiveness before she died and got into Heaven. She wonders if it even matters because Zia isn't here anymore. Zoey will always be here, living and fighting because she's too terrified of death to do otherwise.
The scratches stop. Zoey, feeling less like her skin is too small and more like she's on the edge of getting angry again, looks at him and wonders what he was doing. She can't make anything out from where she is.
Harry glances up at her and then puts away the knife, "Come here, help me with this."
Irritation flashes through her but she sighs and abandons her post at the foot of the grave, "Why?"
"Just do it," Harry insists, waving her over impatiently.
Zoey rolls her eyes and reluctantly stands behind the stone. She gets a glance of the strange, incoherent lines as she helps her brother drag and rotate the stone to the head of the grave. When the stone is settled and Harry begins to shift it just so, Zoey returns to where she’d been standing. When Harry steps away, the lines she couldn’t make out suddenly make sense.
ZIA
A LOST SOUL
RETURNS HOME
REST IN PEACE
Struck by how simple and beautiful the words are, Zoey merely stares in utter silence. As Harry comes back around to stand next to her, more tears roll down her cheeks without the misery to accompany it. They make the rolling thoughts that dominated her mind quiet down and go away. She wipes the tears as they come, feelings of acceptance and serenity soothing the anger and frustration she felt moments before.
"Thank you, Harry," Zoey mumbles at last, the tears finally drying out.
Harry just nods, casting the sky a glance and then asking, "You want to go kill some Biters?"
The question catches her off guard and a startled laugh escapes. She realizes then that she would like nothing more than to go out into the city with Harry and put down as many Biters as she can. The anger and hurt isn't gone… probably won't be for a long time but… she doesn't need to feel it all at once.
"Yeah, actually," Zoey replies, wiping the last of the tear tracks from her cheeks. She offers her brother a small smile, "Let's go."
Harry turns and waves once. Zoey looks and is mildly surprised to see Sirius emerge from the bush. A spark of irritation pops up and she asks, "Does he have to come?"
Harry sighs, looking at his skinny arms and hands and then at her, "Sorry, Zo. He's just sticking around for protection. I'm not quite back to full health just yet."
The irritation smooths away and instead, Zoey feels contrite. Every day is a reminder that Harry isn't as fit as he used to be and she seems to forget about it a lot. Though he can fight as well as ever, his stamina and strength are pretty much gone.
"You won't even know I'm here!" Sirius states with a mischievous grin. "I'm a master at being inconspicuous!"
"Yeah, okay," Zoey replies disbelievingly.
Sirius huffs in offence and clutches his chest with a heartbroken expression on his rugged face.
"Sirius will follow at a distance. He'll watch our backs until we get back to Sanctuary, alright?" Harry says, shaking his head ruefully at Sirius.
Zoey sighs, "Fine. Whatever."
"That's the spirit!" Sirius states cheerfully.
—
Zoey has to admit that Sirius is really good at being inconspicuous. She hasn't seen him once since they started out. As soon as they hit the city, it's like he disappeared. Harry waves in a vague direction when she asks but she never sees the man lurking around.
Their foray into the city quiets Zoey’s thoughts like nothing else. Walking down the dirty, overgrown sidewalks and streets together feels right. Zoey had forgotten what it felt like to traverse this world without fear of the dead. It strangely felt too easy to walk up to one, trip it and knife the head. Her heart beats too slow when a Biter is drawn to the can she kicks on purpose, only to moan as it turns away in disinterest. Zoey walks through a crowd of shuffling Biters with Harry barely feet from her and not even for a second fears them suddenly lunging at her. Heads slowly turn as she passes, watching her with greasy, rotting eyes and then losing interest as if she was never there in the first place.
The only thing that gives Zoey pause is the large black dog. She stops, her heart racing for the first time since entering the city, knowing that Harry’s ability doesn’t cover animals like it does the dead. It stares at them from down the street, head held high and tail up.
“Where do you want to go from here?”
Zoey starts, whipping her head to Harry as she wasn’t expecting him to suddenly ask. He’s not looking at her, his head turned back the way they came. She glances back at the dog reflexively and becomes worried when she doesn’t see it. Where did it go?
“Zo?”
“Oh, um, this way?” Zoey gestures down the street to their right, still trying to find the dog. She sees her symbols all over the place, most of them are pointing in the opposite direction of Sanctuary but no dog to be found. Zoey doesn’t want to run into the dog, not without a gun so they may as well stay near Sanctuary. Just in case.
Harry wanders a few feet away out of nowhere and picks something up from underneath a car. Zoey lurches closer to him when the nearest Biter becomes a little too interested in her.
“A little warning next time,” Zoey snips as Harry comes back up.
Harry offers her a crowbar with a crooked smile, “Sorry, figured you’d like a little more firepower.”
Zoey lights up, putting her knife away and grabbing the crowbar with a little too much excitement. It’s dirty and bloody on the sharply curved end and the other side is wrapped with cloth for a better hold. It belonged to someone at some point, that much is obvious but whoever it must have been is either long gone or dead.
It’s her weapon now.
“Thanks!” Zoey chirps as she gives it a few test swings. It’s very solid and a bit heavy but it has more reach than her knife does.
“I’ll follow you, yeah?” Harry offers as he waves vaguely at the sparse Biters lingering about.
Zoey’s heart picks up double time and a weird excitement ignites her veins. She nods as she turns, adjusting her grip on the crowbar while she considers her first target. Her eyes fall on filthy, black curly hair and Zia’s cruel laugh rings in her mind. Without thinking further, Zoey raises the crowbar and lurches forward. The tip pierces the rotting skull like toilet paper, dead blood and white matter spurting out with pieces of broken bone. The Biter merely utters a choked sound and drops to the ground.
Zoey pants as she yanks the crowbar out and hefts it in both hands, locking eyes on her next target.
Taking down the Biters was much more cathartic than Zoey realized. She wasn't aware of how much stress had accumulated until she finally had a proper outlet for it. Sure, killing Biters isn't exactly a healthy habit to have but right now, when she's had such an emotional day and downright emotional week, it's nice to let everything out on something that doesn't even feel it anyway.
She trips the last Biter and pikes the head efficiently, feeling a little less angry, a little less spiteful. The convenience store they chose to check out is otherwise empty but for a few things left on the shelves. They didn't come in here for supplies but Zoey can't help the habit of grabbing what she can carry and shoving them into her pockets. Harry is looking around nearby, checking out the windows to make sure no one is outside.
"Feeling any better?" Harry asks quietly, abandoning the windows to approach her.
"Yeah," Zoey admits, kicking a body to make sure. It doesn't move. "I feel kind of bad now."
"Don't," Harry tells her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He looks her in the eyes and says, "I can't really say I know what you are going through but I know Negan won't hold it against you. I know if you said that to me, I wouldn't."
"Doesn't mean it's okay," Zoey shrugs off the hand and turns away.
"Well, I guess not," Harry shrugs, grabbing some kind of bag off the nearest shelf. "But you were hurting and he just said the wrong thing. Things escalated. Just tell him you're sorry when we get back."
"I said I feel bad, not that I want to apologize," Zoey corrects him primly. "He knew she was sick and hurting herself and he didn't do anything."
"What should he have done, Zo?" Harry asks her matter of factly. "Before, she would have been put into an asylum of some kind and drugged out of her mind to keep her from hurting herself or others." Zoey didn't know that. There are places that do that to people? Just drug them into being calm? "And they would have kept her locked up so she couldn't escape. If Negan could have done that, he probably would have but where would he get the drugs? How would he know how much to give her? How long would he need to keep her drugged for?" Harry stops and looks at Zoey, "How much better would it actually be?"
Zoey looks away, scanning the empty shelves instead of answering.
"How many people would get hurt or die to keep her on those drugs? And once they ran out, just how violent would she be?" Harry continues, almost speaking to himself at this point. "Who would she hurt to get another dose? Who would she kill?"
Zoey flinches, "Stop. I get it."
"I don't think you do," Harry states firmly. "If she had been put into an asylum before the Fall, you would have been put with relatives or into foster care, Zo. You never would have been able to see her. She would never regain custody of you. Zia was sick and what happened to her was no one's fault. Not Negan's, not even hers."
Zoey didn't know that either. It never occurred to her what happened to kids whose parents weren't around anymore. Harry mentioned his parents dying at a young age but he never said where he ended up, just that he was with his relatives when they got into an accident.
"It just bloody sucks and there's nothing to do but move on because life doesn't stop when someone dies," Harry finishes solemnly.
"So you ended up with your relatives, Harry?" Zoey asks tentatively. "After your parents died?"
Harry nods, "Yeah. They hated anything abnormal or weird and I was as weird as they come, I guess. They were never kind to me but that doesn't mean I was happy when they died. I'm not not sad about it either, to be honest. They died, life moves on."
A bark outside cuts Zoey off from what she was going to say. Harry's head whips around and then he says, "We have to go."
"Harry?" Zoey asks, wondering if he has a bad feeling.
"Not feeling anything but we still need to go," Harry replies knowingly. "Come on. We've been out long enough."
"Doesn't feel like it," Zoey says glumly, following Harry out of the store.
"Negan mentioned that you're grounded?" Harry asks absently, his sharp green eyes scanning their surroundings. Zoey spies that large black dog sniffing around down the block and makes a mental note to keep an eye on it. Dogs are vicious these days and she's not interested in being dog food.
"I didn't do anything to deserve it. He's just paranoid," Zoey answers, crossing her arms defensively.
"What do you mean?" Harry asks, picking his way towards the dog.
"Don't go that way," Zoey warns, eyeing the dog. Her warning goes unheeded and, apparently, unneeded, as the dog suddenly takes off. "Never mind, I guess. Um, we found a weird symbol on one of our runs-"
"You mean the one that makes no sense?" Harry cuts in.
Surprised, Zoey nods even though Harry can't see it, "Yeah, the one that says safe, not safe. Dad was trying to investigate it, see who put it up or why it was put up. He said he didn't like not knowing that someone was near Sanctuary that he didn't know about. Told me I'm not allowed to leave until they make headway but nothing has been figured out yet."
"Oops," Harry says with a mischievous smirk.
Zoey giggles, following Harry as he heads further down the street. Zoey recognises where they are after a good look around, "We're not far from-"
A sharp bark. Harry freezes and then steps back, grabbing Zoey's arm and yanking her into cover behind a broken vehicle. Zoey is about to ask when she hears voices nearby and the words freeze in her throat. Harry carefully peeks out, watching the end of the street. A small group of people come into view, walking across the intersection lazily. From their position behind cover and the distance, Zoey can't make out if they are friendlies or not. It’s mostly Saviors that are out and about this close to Sanctuary and they usually wear Savior colours. Dad and Ma made it so to avoid friendly fire if something were to happen. They're not wearing Savior colours but that doesn't mean they're not from Sanctuary, especially with how close the community is.
"I don't recognize them," Zoey whispers to Harry, her heart picking up.
Harry raises his other hand, finger to his lips and squints, listening intently. Zoey stays quiet, looking between Harry and the people that are very nearly out of sight. Then, they stop, voices raising high enough to hear a few words here and there.
"-said—done!---waiting!"
"Calm—time–soon."
"How—should—done!"
No matter how Zoey strains her ears, she can't make out any other words. They move on after another few seconds, wherein one seems to threaten the other and then pushes them away. None of them notice Harry and Zoey nearby.
"I heard some. They sound familiar to me but…" Harry tells her quietly and then shakes his head. "I don't know for sure."
"What did they say?" Zoey asks him, glancing over to where the group disappeared to.
"They were done waiting for something to happen," Harry supplies, slowly standing now that the coast is clear. Zoey stands as well. "The other said to calm down, something about time coming soon and getting something done."
"I wonder what that means," Zoey murmurs more to herself, not liking the implications.
"Nothing good," Harry affirms grimly. "We need to let Negan know. Let's get back."
A bark nearby has Harry leaving cover, pulling Zoey along. Once they reach the intersection, they carefully look around to make sure the people are really gone before crossing. Zoey pauses at the corner, glancing around, suddenly feeling like she's being watched. She spies the black dog from earlier staring at them intently before trotting off.
"Weird," Zoey says to herself, turning to follow Harry back to Sanctuary.
—
Before they get to the gates, Harry stops and turns around. Before Zoey can ask, Sirius steps out from behind a bush and rejoins them with a wide smile, "So, did you see me?"
Zoey has to admit, that was impressive. She had been looking but other than the dog and those people, she saw no one. "No, surprisingly."
"Surprisingly?" Sirius states in a hurt tone, his hand landing on his chest. "Oh, how your words hurt! They wound me!"
They walk towards the gate. Zoey can't help her grin at Sirius' theatrics, "How did you do it? I didn't see you at all!"
"Oh, but you did," Sirius winks at her. "You just didn't see me."
Zoey gives him a confused look as the gates are opened but is distracted by Hank, the gate guard for the day, "Zoey, Boss man said he wants to see you immediately."
Zoey rolls her eyes, "Yeah, fine. I'm going. Want to give these to whoever is running the intake desk?" She hands over the spare goodies she pilfered from the convenience store and her crowbar. It needs to be registered anyway.
Hank nods, taking them, "Will do. Negan also wants to see you two as well." He looks at Harry and Sirius.
"We'll go with Zo," Harry replies easily and nudges Zoey forward. Hank nods again and then closes the gate properly. They leave him behind, leisurely walking through the grounds towards the building.
"Hey, Z," Cindy calls out, Sandra and Diego waving as well as they head for the gate without stopping. “Glad to see you made it back okay.”
"Where you going?" Zoey calls back while waving.
Cindy half turns to shrug but doesn't lose her footing, "Same ol', same old. Heading out on another run. Be good, yeah?"
Zoey’s really happy they aren’t treating her like she’s about to break again. She scoffs, waving Cindy's subsequent chuckles away, "You just focus on coming back!"
Cindy merely winks and waves finger guns at them playfully.
Shaking her head, Zoey leads them to the stairs and up, moving around and through the other denizens of Sanctuary on their way to someplace else.
"Hey, Zoey!" Emillia calls out from the door ahead. “Where did you go?”
"Hey Emillia," Zoey greets back with a wan smile. "I have to go talk to Dad. I'll catch up with you later."
Emillia's eyes land on Harry and she nods distractedly, "Sure thing."
Zoey really hopes Emillia doesn't get a crush on Harry. That would be weird.
Another set of stairs and they finally reach the landing where the Council room is. The wall where Harry's picture was is now cleared, replaced with a fresh set of maps of the city with different markings on them. Zoey doesn't get a chance to look because Dad glances over from his conversation with Simon and then double takes.
"Zo!" Dad barks, looking far from happy. He turns away from Simon to approach.
"It was my idea and Sirius was with us," Harry cuts in before Dad could get started.
Zoey really appreciates it because it’s been a while since she pissed off her Dad this much.
"She's grounded for a good reason-" Dad starts but Harry interrupts with, "She needed it."
Zoey will never not be impressed by the way Harry stands up to Dad's severe glare. It's always enough to cower her back into compliance when she's being stubborn but Harry just stares back like it's nothing.
"I understand she may have needed it-" Dad starts, only for Harry to straighten and cut in, "She did." But Dad keeps talking like Harry didn't interrupt at all. "-but there's a damn good reason she's not allowed outside. I expect you to abide by my rules, Harry."
Harry scowls, "Your rules? She's my sister-"
"And she's my daughter!" Dad speaks over Harry sharply. "I'm glad you are back and okay but I'm in charge now, not you. You will listen to my rules."
Zoey's eyes widen, glancing at Sirius as the argument escalates. Sirius' face is neutral but he seems tense.
"Or what?" Harry baits, clenching his fists.
Dad doesn't expect the push back by the way his face tightens but answers anyway, "I'll lock you in the Pit until you understand."
Harry goes very still, his face smoothing out into something… hard. His lips thin and his eyes turn cold. Almost at once, the brother Zoey had come to know and love has turned into a complete stranger. It's very unsettling and just looking at him makes Zoey feel a little unsafe.
"I think you misunderstand something, Negan," Harry says after a moment in a tone Zoey's never heard before, making Dad blink in surprise and raise a brow. "You are not my boss. I am not your kid." Zoey winces at that. Dad rears back a little, clearly not expecting that either. "I am a grown man capable of making my own decisions and while I appreciate all the things you've done for Zoey, I am her guardian and I will do what's best for her. If she chooses to stay here with you and listen to you, then fine but don't make the mistake of thinking you can control me. The last person to do that is dead."
Simon shifts, both of his brows raised incredulously. Dad goes completely still, seeming to be processing what Harry just said to him. Zoey, herself, is shocked by Harry's attitude. She wasn't expecting him to go off like that and she definitely wasn't expecting him to tell Dad off about their relationship. It's uncomfortable for them to talk about her like she isn't even in the room.
Sirius steps forward, "Harry-"
Harry raises his hand sharply, his cold, cold eyes on Dad, "No. I will not be escaping one prison for another."
Dad lets out a sigh, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, "I didn't mean-"
"I don't care," Harry snaps.
"Harry!" Sirius says sternly, gaining a sharp look from Harry.
"What?"
Sirius stares him down. Harry holds it for a few, long seconds before scoffing, "Whatever." He turns back to Negan. "Sirius was with us and he's far better trained than any of your people. We were only out for two hours. We didn't go further than a few city blocks and it took ten minutes to get back."
Dad relaxes and opens his mouth to say something but Harry looks at Zoey, "You tell him."
"Tell me what?" Dad asks as Zoey exclaims, "Me? I couldn't hear as much as you!"
"I told you what I heard. Just tell him. I need some air," Harry turns on his heel and quickly walks out, passing Sirius without looking at him. Sirius eyes both Zoey and her Dad before following Harry out.
"Tell me what?" Dad insists, not even bothering to stop either of them.
Zoey sighs, crossing her arms as she looks at her Dad, "We saw some people on the way back. They were too far for me to see what they looked like. Harry and I were hiding and he said he heard them talking about… something needing to be done and maybe getting it done soon? I don't know."
"Were they wearing Savior colors?" Dad asks stiffyly, his eyes hard and attentive. He moves towards the map wall and impatiently waves her over. "Where did you see them? How many were there?"
"No," Zoey answers, stepping towards the wall as well and her eyes track the streets until she finds the area they were in. She points it out with her finger, tapping on the spot she believes she and Harry saw those people. "Here. They weren't wearing Savior colours but Harry said the voices were familiar." Out of the corner of her eye, Simon shifts to come closer. "Neither of us could see them properly but there were three or four of them. Harry said he couldn't place the voices but that he knew them."
Dad tracks the location, marking it with a purple marker, "Where were they heading?"
Zoey thinks a moment and then points it out, "This direction. They were gone when Harry and I made it to the intersection."
Dad nods, turning to Simon, "Get some Saviors out there. Take a truck. See if you can find anything. Maybe we'll get lucky."
Simon nods, "Yes, sir." He takes a closer look at the map and then leaves.
Zoey purses her lips and tries to think of an excuse to leave when Dad looks at her, "Hey."
"What?" What does he want now? Is he going to start in on her for breaking the rules? Their argument from earlier is still fresh on her mind, even though she's no longer as upset.
"I'm sorry, about earlier," Dad says instead. Zoey's mouth falls open. "How you holding up?"
Just a little taken aback, Zoey shrugs a shoulder, "Okay, I guess."
Dad nods, gritting his teeth and then sighing, "Look, I'm not very happy you went out without telling me but I can understand that you needed time away. I was worried."
Guilt settles in. Zoey nods to the floor, "Sorry."
"We'll just put it behind us this time. Next time you need to get out, tell me. You can take some Saviors with you-"
"Dad, I know you worry for me and I know this stuff-" she gestures vaguely to the map. "Is freaking you out but when I need time, I don't want to have your Saviors there to watch me. I don't even like most of them."
"You need someone I can trust-"
"You don't trust Harry and Sirius?" Zoey cuts him off.
Dad scowls, "Hey. I put up with that shit with Harry but you will not speak to me like that."
"Why?" Zoey demands hotly, that earlier anger coming back.
Dad shakes his head, looking frustrated, "You're my daughter. I love you and care for you but you're not going to speak to me like that. It's called respect and you will treat me with such."
"So Harry can disrespect you but I can't?" What's the difference? Why is it that Dad puts up with Harry's disrespect but not hers? "How the fuck is that fair?"
"I'm not discussing that with you," Dad waves it off, making her even more angry. "I trust Harry but I don't know Sirius. I don't trust Sirius, either."
"Why?" Zoey asks again, even more sharply.
"I don't know Sirius as a man. I don't know if his dedication extends beyond Harry when it comes down to the wire. I don't know him at all besides what I've learned this last week," Dad looks at the map and stares at it intently, seeming to gather his thoughts. "It's clear he's on Harry's side and that he would protect Harry with his life but it's less clear how they really know each other. Until I know that, until I know that he wouldn't spirit Harry away when shit goes sideways, I don't trust him."
Zoey has no idea what the hell he's talking about. Her utter confusion spills over, "What are you talking about? Why would Sirius help Harry get home and then take him away again?" It makes no sense.
Dad blows out a large breath and then scratches the back of his head, "Nothing, sweetie. I just don't trust Sirius and neither should you."
Hearing him say that only makes Zoey want to trust Sirius, just out of spite.
"Listen," Dad says, his tone softening and he finally looks at Zoey. "I love you, okay?" Zoey feels a lump in her throat as he bends over a little to get to her level. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you. I don't restrict you like I do because I want to control you. I'm just…" Dad rubs his face with a sigh. "I'm… when my Saviors couldn't find you, I freaked, okay? I thought… well, it doesn't matter what I thought. I'm just glad you're alright."
Zoey feels the anger fizzle away again, "I'm fine, Dad. I just needed to get out for a while."
"Yeah, I know," Dad replies, glancing up while nodding. "I guess if you need it… just, tell me, okay? You can take Harry and… Sirius, I'll just give you a radio to use. Alright?"
Twisting her lips and knowing she's not going to get a better deal than that, Zoey agrees, "Fine, I guess."
Dad claps his hands and stands to full height, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. Then, he nudges her towards the door, "Lulu is worried. Go see her, yeah?"
Zoey nods wordlessly, suddenly really wanting a hug from her Ma. Somehow, she knows it will make her feel far better. The sky outside is nearly black, flashes of lightning rolling through the clouds. Finally, she hears the thunder tumbling and then lightning striking in the distance. The mugginess that has been plaguing her for hours finally lifts and moments later, the rain comes down heavily. Zoey makes her way upstairs slowly, watching the storm ravage the area, knowing when it passes, all the negativity will be rejuvenated into something better.