Chapter 6
As confident as Harry was in his idea to lure away the herd, he hadn’t taken the current circumstances into consideration. He had been thinking about saving the terrified and determined souls living in Sanctuary, to protect Zoey, Negan and Lucille from losing what they built together. The weight of the lives around him drove him to send his Godfather on what other people would call a ‘suicide run’ but he had forgotten why Sirius was with him.
Facing down over a hundred pairs of eyes, Harry almost regrets his decisions.
Almost.
“Harry,” Negan’s impatient voice draws Harry out of his reverie and he looks at the older man. “Where the fuck did Sirius take the herd?”
Harry is beginning to realize that Negan is like a dog with a bone. He just isn’t satisfied with having a bite; he needs to gnaw on, slobber and piss on the damn thing before he’s happy. He just can’t take Harry’s word on the matter, which bothers him more than he’s willing to admit. Where did Negan’s trust in Harry go?
“There’s a quarry a while out from here,” Harry finally answers clearly. He studiously ignores how the residents continue to stare, whisper and point at him.
“How did you know that?” Simon demands irately, his moustache quivering.
“Who cares?” Arat unexpectedly comes to Harry’s rescue. “It seems to be working, I don’t give a shit on the how.”
“We’ll be talking about this later,” Negan warns, pointing at Harry briefly. Then, he’s turning on Diego, who stands nearby looking lost and alone. Harry watches as Negan drags Diego aside.
“Hello?” Someone from the crowd sounds out. “Can someone please explain something here? He just fucking-did-something to those Saviors, what the fuck is going on?”
Here we go, Harry thinks to himself, bracing for the inevitable. Good or bad, their reactions today is going to set a precedent on how Harry will be treated in the future. He can hope for good but people are unpredictable and don’t necessarily subscribe to reason and logic.
“The Lord hath blessed us with His Messenger!” An older man Harry recognizes as the priest that presided over Zia’s funeral announces out of nowhere. The priest steps forward, his lined face lit up and seeming decades younger in that moment as he takes in Harry from head to foot. “I’m sure this young man was sent to us by the Lord to guide us through the Hell that hath descended onto this Earth!”
Harry tries his best to keep his face straight but it’s a battle he’s not sure he can win. Having people believe he’s some religious figure sounds great but he knows it’s a slippery slope with even the most minuscule mistake. Being taken as their Lord’s Messenger makes hives creep up the back of his arms and shoulders in a bad way, leaving him feeling twitchy. He has to head this off before it gets out of control.
“I am not,” Harry denies firmly, trying to keep the scowl off his face. The last thing he wants to do is offend someone through their beliefs but he’s not going to stand being put upon this pedestal. “No offence to you or... those who believe but I’m just Harry.”
The priest is already shaking his head, his bible clutched to his chest securely, “Nay, the Lord works in mysterious ways, Prophet Harry. I’m sure you were delivered to us in our need for salvation.”
“Anton, not now,” Lucille comes to Harry’s rescue. She comes around in between them, subtly directing the priest back towards the crowd and then looks at Harry, “How’re you holding up?”
“I’m not a Prophet,” Harry murmurs to Lucille, side eyeing her in suspicion.
Lucille gives him a look, “I can’t control what they think.”
Harry twists his lips unhappily. The last thing he wants is to be associated with religion in any way. Being propped up as some Prophet will most assuredly keep Harry in the positives but it’s much too easy for bigots to turn the table and make him into a pariah instead. No, despite Lucille’s opinion that she can’t control how they think, Harry is determined to keep himself out of that limelight.
“Are we gonna get some fucking answers or what?” Someone asks loudly, their voice exasperated.
Lucille puts her hands up placatingly, “All your questions will be answered but I ask that everyone remain calm. Things did not go as planned this morning, so your patience right now will be greatly appreciated!”
“Lucille, level with us,” a man steps out from the crowd. Harry recognizes him as the one standing guard early this morning. “What’s going on, why was everyone called back in?”
Lucille casts a glance over towards where Negan is still talking to Diego, Simon standing nearby. The bespectacled Savior has his head down low as he speaks, his arms halfheartedly gesturing as he does. When it’s clear that Negan is too busy sorting that out, Lucille takes a bracing breath and answers, “As you’ve all seen, Harry has the ability to heal people-”
There are sudden restless mumblings sweeping across the residents, some louder than others.
“What, seriously?”
“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious.”
“I didn’t see shit.”
“The kid really did heal those Saviors.”
“What the fuck?”
Harry feels uneasy how quickly the crowd becomes agitated by that simple affirmation.
Lucille waves her hands a little and raises her voice, “Everyone, please calm down! We don’t want to draw any more attention from the city!”
Harry sways a little, exhaustion suddenly settling in. As Lucille reigns the restless residents back under some semblance of control, Harry takes stock of his magical levels. They’re low – lower than they’ve been since his... stay at the Commune. He feels shaky and wrung out, like he’s been exercising for too long with too little rest. As it is, he’s not going to be able to vaccinate everyone today; its unlikely he’ll even be able to vaccinate a handful, much less the entirety of the Saviors.
This is going to be a problem, Harry just knows it.
A grip on Harry’s shoulder brings him back to the matter at hand, Lucille not even looking at him as she continues talking, “-can do. The reason we brought everyone back in from the Outposts is because Harry has the ability to vaccinate people against the virus-”
Harry flinches back into someone when the crowd suddenly ignites, raucous in their yelling and exclaiming over the reveal. Lucille tries to raise her voice over the ruckus while pressing Harry back but she’s drowned out even to his ears. Everyone is talking, demanding and surging forward at once, hands reaching out for Harry. Chest abruptly tightening, Harry can’t breath as he pushes back into whoever is behind him, staring at the reaching hands with pure terror. He can’t avoid the grasping, his shirt, shoulders and arms being grabbed by multiple people. In seconds, he’s yanked into the crowd and surrounded by desperate, gaunt survivors shouting pleads into his horrified face. A sharp ringing starts up in his ears, completely encompassing the overwhelming din of the worked up crowd threatening to descend into a riot. They press into him from all sides, harsh grips digging into his pale skin like stubby claws.
The world starts to darken-
The pressure pressing in on Harry fades enough for the spots in his eyes to clear up. He gasps sharply, his chest and arms raging in acute pain as precious air fills his starving lungs. Sounds pierce the loud ringing in his ears and his hearing pops back, almost immediately deafening him again as more determined and pronounced voices shout orders out over and over again.
“Back the fuck off!”
“Hey, stop it right fucking now!”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Let him go!”
“Someone grab him!”
An arm abruptly winds around Harry’s upper chest and basically drags him out of the mess of mindless residents. At the same time, a clap of gunshot and the echoes silences everyone at once. Most duck out of instinct, Harry throwing his arms up to shield his face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” Negan barks out, his voice sounding incredibly furious. “You’re all fucking lucky I can’t fire anymore God damn fucking rounds or all of you lowlife assholes that touched Harry would be fucking dead.”
Harry limps in relief when he’s set down less than gracefully. His body is trembling and his heart is still pounding from the scare. Pain radiates from his limbs and his chest, no doubt bruising already. Lucille is immediately hovering over him, concern on her face but sheer anger in her eyes. She’s very upset about what just happened. Well, Harry is too.
“My God, are you okay?” Lucille asks in a tightly clipped but concerned tone.
“All of you will be losing points for this bullshit!” Negan rages on nearby. “Ganging up on a teenager that’s nice enough to give you guys some fucking hope and you act like fucking children. Fucking shameful, you sacks of shit!”
Harry shakes his head, truly speechless from what just happened. He’d expected them to get worked up, knew the announcement wouldn’t go over very well but believed Sirius when he made that promise. However, Harry fucked up by sending his Godfather away trying to save Sanctuary and very nearly got lynched by several dozen desperate people as a result. He wants to go back up to the apartment, right now but he’d have to go through all of them to do so.
“Harry, talk to me,” Lucille urges, gently but firmly grasping his face to look into his eyes.
“Bloody hell, that was a bit much,” Harry blurts out.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think they’d... this wasn’t supposed to happen,” Lucille replies apologetically, dropping her hands from his face in relief. “You look rough, why isn’t your healing kicking in?”
“Used most of it on Zoey’s friends,” Harry answers, gathering himself and pushing to his feet.
Lucille and another pair of hands help Harry up. Harry half turns to see Arat there, who was most likely the one that pulled him out of the mob. He nods to her with a quick, “Thanks.”
Arat nods back, not saying anything. Her face is emotionless but her eyes are dark with anger.
“Do you have enough to vaccinate the Saviors?” Lucille asks Harry.
Arat looks at Lucille, more than a little incredulous. It seems the Council wasn’t made privy to the vaccination order. Seems it’s not just Harry being kept in the dark.
Harry shakes his head, “Not if I want to stay awake.”
“If you ate and rest, would you be able to?” Lucille presses, gaining another glance from Arat.
Harry shrugs, “Hard to tell, maybe in the evening. The energy I’ll gain will only go towards me for now.”
Lucille sighs, frustration furrowing her brow, “Alright, I guess we need to postpone this for tomorrow and hope for some miracle that nothing else goes wrong. I don’t know how we’re going to fit everyone inside Sanctuary for the night.”
Fit everyone in-why not just send them back?
“They can come back tomorrow morning,” Arat suggests, almost as if she’s reading Harry’s mind. “We don’t have the space, Lucille.”
“I’ll have to talk to Negan about that, he doesn’t want them going back out without it,” Lucille replies, reaching out to grasp Harry’s arm. “Why don’t you go grab something from the cafeteria?”
Harry rejects the idea outright and gestures to the cowed crowd still being reamed by Negan, “I’m not going through that again.”
“They won’t touch you again, I think Negan made his point a few minutes ago,” Lucille urges him forward with a hand on his back. “You need to eat and rest, I’ll even send Arat with you.”
“With all due respect, I think he should head back up and make himself scarce for the rest of the day,” Arat points out blandly.
“If he gets enough energy to vaccinate those stationed at the Outposts, then he can do the rest tomorrow,” Lucille says, again urging Harry forward. “Please, Harry. I know I’m asking a lot of you right now, you’ve done such a wonderful job already today but there’s more weighing on this than you’re aware of. I’ll come find you in a bit so we can talk, okay?”
Harry gives in, unable to refute Lucille’s stressed plea, “Alright but I want a second person to come as well. No offense, Arat.”
Arat shrugs, “None taken.”
Lucille nods, casting her eyes over the assembled Saviors behind them and then calls out, “Dwight, can you come here?”
Dwight is a tall man with dirty blond hair wearing the Savior colours. He wordlessly checks Harry over as he stands next to Arat.
“Thank you for your help earlier. Can you help Arat guard Harry while he’s recuperating?”
Dwight glances at Lucille and grunts, “Yeah, can do.”
Harry reluctantly allows Lucille to push him towards the crowd. Harry eyes them more than a bit nervously, acutely aware of the staring in a way he was never before. Will they listen to Negan’s anger or will they lunge for him again?
“You alright, Harry?” Negan asks in concern, the fury in his voice mostly spent.
“I’ll be fine after a cuppa,” Harry answers, meeting Negan’s eyes.
Negan nods and addresses the residents again, “If anyone touches Harry again, they’ll be having a lengthy stay in the Pit. I don’t give a shit what your reason is, this won’t be tolerated.”
The crowd parts for Arat as she leads them through. Dwight takes up the rear and he probably looks menacing, as people take one look at him and avert their eyes. Harry remains twitchy and on edge as they make their way through and only relaxes when they enter the cafeteria. It’s empty, as everyone is outside attending the announcements.
“Go sit down, I’ll find something for you to eat,” Arat waves Harry towards the tables and makes her way towards the food counters.
Harry does as told, Dwight silently following him as he wanders to one of the middle tables. He sits facing the cafeteria doors where he can see people staring at him through the wide entryway. Upon seeing him looking back, they turn away and pretend otherwise.
Harry knows it’s going to be a long day. He can already feel a headache coming on.
---
Harry is in the middle of eating when the residents suddenly start getting restless and angry. Nervous, Harry picks at his food and watches the entrance for anyone trying to barge in towards him. Dwight is tense, standing at the first angry yell and palming a handgun that was stashed on his person. Arat is equally on guard, also standing but her arms are crossed.
Then, many are yelling in anger.
A few people stumble into the cafeteria but both Arat and Dwight seemed to have expected that. Arat immediately whips out her own gun and aims at them, shouting, “Get the fuck back out there.”
They raise their hands and push their way back outside, anything they may have said drowned out by the din outside.
“Why the fuck are they so angry?” Dwight asks out of nowhere.
Arat lowers her gun but doesn’t put it away, “Apparently the Saviors are being vaccinated first.”
Dwight whistles lowly, “That would do it.”
“Did you decide the vaccination order?” Arat asks Harry directly, taking him off guard.
“No, I didn’t. I left that between Negan and Lucille,” Harry replies, scowling at her. “I’d have done a lottery, not a list.”
Arat relaxes a little, “That seems a helluva lot smarter than what they’re doing right now.”
Harry should have asked them before all this. If he had, he would have had a chance to change their minds and now they have their own people on the verge of rioting. What the hell was Negan and Lucille thinking? Did they really believe they had that much control over their people?
Harry sighs as he eyes the rest of his food, “I should probably go out there.”
“Finish eating,” Dwight tells him, pushing Harry’s plate closer.
“Yes, Dad,” Harry replies sarcastically as he takes an unenthusiastic bite.
Dwight huffs as he steps away, “Ain’t no way I’m havin’ you as a kid.”
Harry gives the man’s back a cheeky grin. However, another round of frustration has Harry abandoning the little food he has left, “They’re going to attract Biters from the city at this rate. I need to do something.”
“You’re only going to make things worse,” Arat warns but doesn’t try to stop him.
This time it’s Dwight that takes the lead. He forcefully pushes two people apart and yells out, “Make space! Coming through!”
Harry can appreciate that Dwight is really good at making a path through the crowd. If someone doesn’t move fast enough, he’s pushing or shoving them out of the way, uncaring where they land so long as he can keep moving forward. Harry would feel bad but no one is in the mood to be charitable today, not even himself. His bruises still sting in remembrance to their desperation.
“Please calm down!” Lucille’s voice barely rises over the discontent.
Harry sighs when absolutely no one listens to her. There are too many angry voices demanding things that Harry can’t even make any of them out. He can hear a child crying nearby and Negan hollering about something.
Harry is honestly surprised they haven’t drawn the herd back, or even a fresh herd from the city. It’s like everyone forgot this world isn’t made for being loud anymore.
Another gunshot silences everyone in an instant.
“Negan stop bloody shooting that thing!” Harry snaps into the quiet, sounding abnormally loud. He looks around at everyone and gestures as he scolds them, “And all of you! Stop yelling, we’re lucky we haven’t drawn any attention to us with how loud you all are!”
“It’s unfair that the Saviors get to be vaccinated first!” Someone calls out, earning a round of too loud agreements.
“If you guys kept your yap shut, you would have known that they’re the first on the list because of the work they do!” Negan snaps, not helping the situation in the least.
All it does is work everyone back up again. Harry glares at Negan and loses his patience, “Alright, new plan! We’re doing a bloody lottery so it’s fair across the board!”
Negan jerks as if Harry had hit him, “Hey-!”
“I’m the one that has the power to vaccinate, I decide what the bleedin’ order will be!” Harry cuts Negan off, not willing to give an inch. Harry doesn’t know how it came to this but he’s had enough. “Whoever isn’t happy with the lottery system will not be receiving a vaccination at all!”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Lucille steps in smoothly, looking far too relieved. “Unfortunately, it will take the rest of the day to set up and after healing those Saviors earlier, I’m sure Harry will appreciate the rest. We will start the vaccinations first thing in the morning!”
“Where the hell are we going to sleep?” An unfamiliar Savior asks loudly, irately.
“Yeah, I ain’t goin’ back out there tonight,” another Savior comments.
“Not without that vaccine, I’m not,” someone else supplements.
“The roads can’t be left unattended, so you’ll do as you’re fucking told,” Negan answers firmly, his voice thick with anger.
A bold Savior pushes his way to the front of the assembled Saviors, “With all due respect, Boss, we ain’t gonna. We took the permanent posting for the extra points but no amount of points will replace immunity from bites. I ain’t goin’ out there ‘til I get one and I’m sure my fine friends agree with me.”
Harry sees when Negan realizes that he won’t be getting his way on the matter. All of the Saviors that came in from the roads and outposts are nodding in agreement, more than a few gripping their weapons a little too tightly. Even Harry can see that they won’t be swayed or bribed into going back out beyond Sanctuary. They certainly have the right to decide for themselves but Negan seems to be on the verge of losing his shit at the fact that he doesn’t have as much power over them as he thought.
“We don’t have the space or beds for everyone-” Lucille tries to interject but she’s spoken over again by yet another Savior, “I don’t care. I’ll stand guard all damn night if I have to. I ain’t going back out there without that damn vaccine.”
“Don’t interrupt my wife again,” Negan points at the Savior in question menacingly and then glares at the rest. “You’re all acting like scared little girls. The roads can’t be unguarded for the night and we need a renewed map on the herds in the area. You guys are the backbone of the safety and security of Sanctuary and like all backbones, the rest of the fucking body can’t move without you.”
“I guess we’re fuckin’ disabled, then.”
Harry shakes his head in disbelief at the round of chuckles at the dark joke. He knew this was going to be an issue. A list of names from most important to least was short-sighted and naive. How can Negan not see what this would do to his people?
Negan’s face hardens and he turns to the crowd of residents still murmuring to each other, “Alright, these fuckin’ cowards don’t wanna do their jobs, so I’m offering triple rate points for the rest of the day and night to anyone willing to take their place!”
The Outpost Saviors scowl at the slight against them, shifting restlessly. They don’t seem happy to be called cowards after all the work they do for Sanctuary and the likely daily threat they face. The offer sounds incredibly tempting. From what Harry can see and hear, there are many seriously considering the offer and conferring with those close by on how it might be worth it.
“Fuck,” someone from the striking Saviors utters disdainfully.
“Screw it, I’ll go,” someone in the crowd says boldly. They embolden others into joining and one by one, Negan gets his volunteers for the Outposts.
“Simon, go with them and give ‘em a crash course in what the fuck to do,” Negan orders his second in command.
“Sure, Boss,” Simon replies, sounding way too agreeable in the face of leaving Sanctuary without a vaccination. Simon makes quick work of rounding up the volunteers while Negan heads back towards Lucille and Harry. Negan does not look happy, at all. Harry grits his teeth and prepares himself for another bloody fight.
“Still nothing?” Negan asks curtly instead. Harry wasn’t expecting the man to ask about his magical levels and takes a moment too long to check. Negan growls, “Harry, for fuck sakes-”
“Negan, you need to take a walk. Now.” Lucille steps between them and forcefully turns her husband around.
“Lucille-”
“No, go for a damn walk,” Lucille denies firmly, pushing her husband away. Negan stomps off, swearing under his breath. Lucille turns to everyone else and raises her hands, “Everyone else, find something to do! Chores need to be done, the cafeteria needs to be manned and inventory must be taken! Get back to work!”
Whines and protests start up.
“Enough!” Lucille’s voice is unusually sharp and angry. A hush falls over everyone. “Anybody found not working today will not eat, irregardless of their points! I am very disappointed in all of you for your abhorrent behaviour and childish responses! I expected better out of all of you.”
Harry watches as the residents, once a myriad of mixed emotions, all turn sheepish and guilty under Lucille’s heavy disappointment. He hopes that’s enough to keep their hands to themselves in the future, as Harry won’t be going through that again.
After dismissing the residents much more firmly, Lucille rounds on Harry, “How are you feeling?”
“I ate but it’s not helping much,” Harry promptly replies, not wanting to stress Lucille out even more than she is. He shows her the bruises on his forearms that have yet to fade.
Lucille tuts as she gently grasps his arm and looks over the red and purple marks, “Oh no, I didn’t realize they grabbed so you hard. Where else are you hurt?”
“I’ll be fine, Lucille,” Harry tells her, pulling his arm back and covering it.
Lucille purses her lips unhappily, guilt crawling across her face, “This wasn’t supposed to happen, Harry.”
“I know,” Harry tells her, shrugging.
He still hasn’t regained any energy, all of it being redirected to his body to heal it instead. His limbs feel heavy and the bruises that haven’t healed yet ache with remembered pain. As much as he’d like to stick around and help Lucille, Harry knows he’ll only end up making himself collapse. The last thing he wants to do is make Zoey angry at him again.
Lucille sighs, “I’m sorry. I-we- I mean, Negan and I knew things would get rowdy but he was sure it would be manageable. They’ve never...” she trails off, sighing again. “Never mind. It won’t happen again, okay?”
Harry appreciates the promise, even if Lucille may not be able to keep it. He just nods, casting his wary eyes around the courtyard. The residents seem to be hard at work with their chosen chores and jobs but even in the few seconds Harry is looking around, he sees several overt glances and gestures towards him. Something about it makes his spine crawl with a nostalgic dread that he hasn’t yet felt in this lifetime, the kind of dread that comes with being watched closely due to infamy.
Oh bugger.
“You should go back upstairs and rest, then,” Lucille says after a few moments.
“But Negan-” Harry tries to protest but Lucille cuts him off, “I’ll deal with him. Just go, okay? Find something else to eat and maybe watch a movie but I want you to rest. You two, please escort Harry to the penthouse.”
Harry gives in, allowing Lucille to push him towards Arat and Dwight. Harry would march himself back up there, guard or no guard but he doesn’t want to risk it. Having been in the middle of the mess Negan and Lucille unintentionally made has Harry more wary of the residents than ever before. The Leaders of Sanctuary don’t have as much pull with their people as they assumed. Is it going to be the same with the other communities?
Harry sure hopes not.
---
Not even bothering to fix himself something, Harry goes to the couch and collapses on it. He’s so tired and sore but it’s slowly easing out. Harry's head is still pulsing somewhere near the back above his neck. It's a deep ache, not one he'd be able to massage out and his magical levels are still exhausted. It's nothing a meal and sleep won't fix but the way the door slams open a bare second later, it seems he won't get either right now.
"Harry, we need to talk," Negan growls.
Wasn’t Lucille going to run interference? Harry sighs, "What is it, Negan?" His head pounds a little harder.
"Get up!" Negan orders gruffly, stomping around. Harry sighs again and stands wearily, facing the older man. Negan barely looks at the teen. "I thought we had an understanding!"
Harry leans against the couch tiredly, "I don't remember this understanding we supposedly reached."
"I know Lucille told you the plan!" Negan shakes his head, his arms waving around in his frustration. "My Saviors were to be first, the runners second and the workers last! That was the plan!"
Harry scratches the back of his head, "So, according to your plan, who, of the Saviors, would go first? In what order would I have vaccinated them?"
Negan stops short, the question catching him off guard but plows ahead, "I had a list, Harry."
"Let me guess," Harry drawls tiredly. "Those who worked the hardest?"
"Of course!" Negan replies incredulously. "The Saviors were to be vaccinated first so they could get back to work!"
"Negan, do you even know what happens when you start favouring people?" Harry asks, almost rhetorically because it's quite clear that even if Negan does, he's clearly ignoring it. Harry continues before Negan can respond. "Yes, you do because your careless favouritism pretty much caused your people to riot."
"It's not fav-"
"Yes, it is," Harry interrupts the older man bluntly. "Especially when you lead the group you are favouring. Everyone works hard here, Negan. Nobody deserves better treatment over the others."
"I'm not favouring them!" Negan denies vehemently. "Yesterday evening I sent out an order recalling all Saviors at the Outpost. They were supposed to be done first so they could go right back out! Then the rest of my Saviors because they guard Sanctuary and the roads! It’s not favouritism when they are essential to our defences! This is why the Saviors needed to be done first! But no! Instead, you decide you were the boss and changed the plan to a fucking lottery. What a joke. Our Outposts are now manned by morons that I have to pay out the ass but the roads aren’t! We're fucked!"
Harry gives an incredulous laugh, "You're blaming me for your poor planning?"
Negan grits his teeth and warns in a low tone, "Watch it-"
Unexpectedly triggered, Harry tenses like a live wire, "Or what, Negan?"
Negan sucks in a quick breath to control his temper and then pinches the bridge of his nose, "We're not doing that bullshit again. Like it or not, I am the leader here, Harry. The boss. The Big Man. You'll show me some respect-"
"Can you even hear yourself?!" Harry blurts out, making the older man pause. Harry raises his hands to emphasize his point as he mocks Negan, "I'm the Big Man. You shall bow down to me because suddenly I'm super important."
"Harry!" Negan barks angrily.
Harry rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, "Negan," he exclaims dully. "You aren't the man I got to know. I respected that man. What in the bloody hell happened to him?"
Negan's jaw drops in shock and he sputters for a few seconds. Then, he gathers himself and grits out, "You spent all those months inside a warm house-" Harry's chest clenches hard at that. "-and we didn't. I changed because I had to. I had a wife and a daughter to take care of. People I had to kill for. No one makes it this far without giving something up."
Harry knows he's at fault for the sheer ignorance Negan portrayed in that moment. He just told them that he was locked up for a long time in a small room, not anything else. Only Zoey has an inkling of what Harry went through, just a small, bare window she's barely tall enough to peek into. Harry hadn't wanted to share anything about his stay at the Commune with anyone but his famous temper rears, ugly, hot and rancid like dragon's breath.
"You know nothing," Harry says quietly, a touch shrill with the level of utter fury coursing through him. He's not looking at Negan. His eyes are laser focused on a point on the floor as memories assault his psyche.
"You don't know what it was like," Negan continues, blissfully ignorant to Harry's rising ire. "Food was scarce after the first two weeks. People kept showing up. Things got desperate. We had to eat dog, Harry! I had to feed my wife and daughter fucking dog."
Harry knows more than a few moments when he was so hungry, he would have eaten a dog without a problem. Sitting in that room for days upon weeks, upon months, being fed porridge and oatmeal and broth... Harry had a lot of time to think. Most of it was of Zoey, braiding her hair and remembering what she sounded like but more often than not, he thought about food. Bending under the pressure of the Matron’s lessons gave him better food but it chipped away at Harry’s psyche every time. Harry did it because he couldn’t allow himself to break but it didn’t help sooth his internal disgust at giving in. He had to do what he had to do to survive. Hearing Negan’s disgust and shame in doing what needed to be done to survive scrapes.
Suddenly, Harry's speaking without thinking, without a filter, unable to keep the tumble of words from spilling out like blood from a deep, terrible wound. "Truly terrible times for you lot, then. Really. How horrible, eating dog meat and not starving. How degrading. You know what's even more degrading?" Harry doesn't hear if Negan responds. His heartbeat is loud and thunderous in his ears, drowning out even his own voice but onward he goes, tumbling and tripping. "Being collared like a bloody mutt! I only had warmth because the door rarely opened! I sat in a tiny room barely big enough to lay down in. I slept in that room. I pissed in that room into a bucket in the corner! I was fed a little broth or oatmeal day in and out! You bitch about eating dog when I would've loved to have anything other than that! What a load of bullocks. Things got hard for you lot, yeah?! Don't bloody tell me how hard things are! You have no fucking idea!"
Harry barely holds in his sobs. Images of the training room come back hard, each feeling like a fresh slap to his face. The dog toys, the degradation and humiliation.
"You… you don't know anything," Harry hiccups, finding himself suddenly leaning against the couch, his legs weakening to jelly. "She treated me like a dog. Put a-" Harry's hand hovers over the hidden scar on his neck and bites his tongue to keep from blurting out the part he hates the most. He just wants to forget it even happened. "I went days without eating. Days without seeing another human being. I was so weak I couldn't feed myself most times. Couldn't escape without making things worse. Forced to heal my captors. Obedience training-"
"Fetch."
Harry moves mechanically. Bending down. Pick up. Take back to Matron. Place it into her hand.
"Good boy."
Harry ignores it. He's-
"-not a good boy," Harry gasps out raggedly through the thickness in his throat. His hands are in his hair, tugging on the short, too short strands. There are large, abnormally hot hands on his shoulders, too big to be Sirius' or Lucille's. Somewhere far away, Negan's voice begins to filter in, calm and even. Harry tries to even his breathing but it's hard. He's so overwhelmed and lost and just-
"Breathe, Harry," Negan urges methodically.
"I'm not a good boy," Harry repeats helplessly, saying the words he had been dying to say to the Matron.
"Shh, shh," Negan comforts, pulling the now unresisting teen into a firm hug. "It's okay, Harry. I'm sorry. It's okay."
Harry slowly comes down from the angry place he had been in. He's sure he mumbles some more but locked in Negan's comforting hold, it doesn't take long for Harry to regain himself.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Negan sighs, his hand rubbing Harry's back soothingly. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't know. I'm sorry."
Raw and wounded, Harry hides his face in Negan's shoulder. It's already wet from the tears shed during his breakdown. It grounds him in the moment, away from the White Room. Away from the Matron and her cruelty. Harry locks it all away to deal with later. Later is good.
Once the exhaustion sets in, Harry pulls away, wiping his face and avoiding Negan's gaze. Negan lets him go, sitting back and crossing his legs. He tilts his head and asks, "That bitch dead?"
Harry is too rung out to react other than nodding. His eyelids feel heavy and his eyes are dry. He feels like he could sleep for another few days.
Negan breathed gruffly, "Good."
They descend into awkward silence. Negan studies the floor with deep fascination for a time and then, "Harry, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot here. I've become very familiar with putting my foot in my mouth recently, so I want to clear the air. I'm uh…" Negan shrugs a little. "I'm used to being in charge. I've had to make a lot of hard decisions to protect this place and those who live here. Decisions that… affected every part of me. I'm not that man anymore. That man was naive and blind." Negan gestures to himself. "Sorry, you just get this."
Harry sighs and rubs his eye as he responds, "I'm not-I wasn't implying that-you're fine as you are, okay? I'm… obviously not… adjusted just yet to everything. It's all been a little much."
Negan nods absently, "I guess we did kind of spring it on you. Lulu and I make a great team but we're used to just communicating to each other about these things. Zoey… well, she was too focused on finding you to have much interest in anything else."
"It would definitely be useful in the future so we can avoid stupid decisions that cause riots," Harry returns in a dry tone, the bed in the corner beginning to call his name.
Negan shakes his head, "Just can't let it go, hm?"
Harry levers himself up, ignoring Negan's scramble to get up as well, "No, not really. You aren't the one that was in the middle of that mess. I was. I’d prefer it not happen again."
Negan's face clears up at that and he sheepishly replies, "Ah, right. Sorry for that, Lu and I thought we had more control over them."
Harry pauses, "Negan, I…"
Negan stills, waiting patiently.
"All… of the… healing and vaccinating I'll be doing… it's going to make me into a target. It's what made… her lock me up in the first place. Promise me…" Harry hesitates, his throat getting unexpectedly thick right then.
Negan places his hand on Harry's shoulder, making the teen startle a little and look up, "I promise, Harry." Harry grips Negan's wrist tightly, unexpectedly relieved by that. Negan's expression is determined and his eyes are focused intently on Harry's face. "I will always take your safety seriously from now on. And…" Negan turns sheepish again. "I will try to be less overbearing."
"Even a little would be an improvement," Harry quips automatically, a grin teasing his mouth.
Negan shakes his head in amusement and lets Harry go, “I’ll do my best. And, you know, thanks for healing those Saviors without being asked. They’re Zoey’s friends and the ones that went out with her the most to find you.”
“It messed up the plans for the day, though,” Harry points out.
Negan shakes his head, “The day was fucked from the go. We’ll try again tomorrow and hope to fucking God that nothing else goes fucking wrong.”
Harry sure hopes so, too.
“Negan, can you promise me something else?” Harry wonders, something else coming to mind.
“What is it?”
Harry looks Negan in the eye and says, “Don’t lock me in Sanctuary. I can’t-I’m not-I need to leave Sanctuary when I want to, I can’t be forced to stay within the fence.”
Negan hesitates, his eyes narrowing as he studies Harry intently. When the answer comes, it’s slow and firm, “I promise, you can come and go as you please. I’ll make sure the Saviors know.”
“Thank you, Negan,” Harry replies gratefully, feeling incredibly relieved. Even if it’s a bigger cage, Harry can’t stand the thought of being locked in. He wants to leave when he wants without fighting for it.
"Get some sleep. You look like shit,” Negan points to the bed in the corner.
Harry feels like shit, so Negan isn't far off the mark. Harry nods and turns to head to his amazingly comfortable looking bed. He pauses again, looking over his shoulder at Negan, who is half turned away and rubbing his neck absently. Harry hopes their tentative understanding with each other can survive the night because he’s getting tired of fighting with the man.
Harry crawls into his bed and he’s out just as his head hits the pillow.