[ Negan trailed in behind Rick, closing the door behind him, just in case one of those fucks was in the house. As Rick ran around searching for his family that likely got the hell out of dodge when things got murky, he started looking around for shit that would be useful to take, but not in a rush.
He investigated the living room, a book discarded on the coffee table, some disheveled blankets on the sofa. Something they could use, but hopefully there was something a bit thicker somewhere else in the house. His next point of investigation was the kitchen. There was still a decent amount of perishable food in the cupboards and pantry, so Negan took it upon himself to gather everything on the counter. Then he found a bottle of scotch. That would be goddamn useful the further out they got when shit started to get real.
Fuck, it was already real. ]
Looks like they left in a hurry. You find anything?
[ Tears stung his eyes, the overwhelming possibilities tearing away at his mind as he continued to move through the space. The home which for the most part held such happy memories. Things were difficult the last few years but he knew they could work it out and make it work again. There were little doubts in his mind about it. But for now, the grief overwhelmed him and he needed a few moments.
Breathing in and out, he sunk down onto the bed for a moment, clutching onto one of Carl's old stuffed animals he plucked from his room. He used to sleep with the thing every night.
A sense of purpose washed over him while he sat there and he started gathering things up, changing into his sheriff's uniform and out of the hospital gown.
He noticed the photo albums were all gone. They were safe. They had to be. ]
The photo albums are all gone. Lori must have taken 'em. [ Rick announced, dropping a few empty bags onto the coffee table. The already packed ones he put over in the corridor leading to the front door but not blocking the way just in case. ]
no subject
He investigated the living room, a book discarded on the coffee table, some disheveled blankets on the sofa. Something they could use, but hopefully there was something a bit thicker somewhere else in the house. His next point of investigation was the kitchen. There was still a decent amount of perishable food in the cupboards and pantry, so Negan took it upon himself to gather everything on the counter. Then he found a bottle of scotch. That would be goddamn useful the further out they got when shit started to get real.
Fuck, it was already real. ]
Looks like they left in a hurry. You find anything?
no subject
Breathing in and out, he sunk down onto the bed for a moment, clutching onto one of Carl's old stuffed animals he plucked from his room. He used to sleep with the thing every night.
A sense of purpose washed over him while he sat there and he started gathering things up, changing into his sheriff's uniform and out of the hospital gown.
He noticed the photo albums were all gone. They were safe. They had to be. ]
The photo albums are all gone. Lori must have taken 'em. [ Rick announced, dropping a few empty bags onto the coffee table. The already packed ones he put over in the corridor leading to the front door but not blocking the way just in case. ]