It had been a rough couple of weeks.

The last thing Negan needed was to be saddled with a child, and yet, here he was. It had been rough after Lucille died, travelling on his own, raiding run-down suburban houses for anything useful. Except, the last thing he expected to find was you: a girl no older than 13. No parents, no family, and pretty shitty survival skills.

Hours of walking empty roads was getting the pair of you nowhere, and that’s not to mention the scorching summer heat. A lack of food, any proper water, and all that exertion had landed you in pretty bad health.

Heatstroke.

“Stay still.” Negan tried to advise, though he kept his hands to himself. The cover of a rickety gas station would have to do for now, though it didn’t provide much relief from the suffocatingly hot air.