Being recruited into Alexandria had been the first bit of good luck in a long run of a shit time. There had been some rough times but all in all, great. Returning after some time away should have been a homecoming but it had been a return to help his friends. The Saviors pick up at Hilltop had gone down without a hiccup and he only hoped things were alright back home. Dom’s timing was impeccable. He was met with guns the moment his car pulled up to the gate ( or more so behind the cars outside the gate). Cautiously, he stepped out, grabbing his orange hiking backpack. Bag was barely pulled over his shoulder before hands were dragging him inside.
Dom kept his cool, at first while they took his bag and started rummaging around. ‘We’re taking half your shit,’ one of the men said, another laughing. Mere minnows like the men who had come to the Hilltop. Only when they pulled out his sketchbooks, protectively kept in a big ziplock, and dumped them out, he surged forward without thinking. “Those are mine–” A hand grabbed him by the collar of his jean jacket and yanked him back. Dominic fought at the grip for a beat before stopping, breathing heavy.
“ don’t underestimate the things that i will do. ”
Was that supposed to mean something to him? No. Dominic hadn’t been here for the terrorizing. He didn’t understand. Not yet. The look on his face was a mixture of anger and confusion. “Those are private,” he hissed at the man in the leather jacket, getting looks of pity and fear from a couple of the Alexandrians on the sidewalk. Two sketchbooks. The older one was full, the newer just a dozen or so drawings were finished. He’d drawn a lot of the people he’d met. Some from here, a few from Hilltop. Some gorier drawings of Walkers in his older book. The read like a road map of some of his experiences over that least year or so.
alexandria was always an .... 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭. they followed the rules one day, broke them the next. they acted like his friend and then they spit in his face. they wanted to challenge him. they wanted to throw negan from his thrown and crush the crown atop his head.
but that’s not how things worked anymore. it was a brand new beginning. a new world order!
❝ well, well. what do we have here boys? ❞ at the sound of their leader’s voice, the men immediately took a step back, leaving both sketchbooks on the ground, laid open beside an empty plastic bag. ❝ an artist, huh? i hope you don’t mind if i take a peek for myself. ❞
the other did seem to mind, because as soon as negan began to reach for the drawings, he was suddenly rushing forward thinking that he could stop this. to stop him. instead the man was halted by the tight grip of five leather clad fingers at the collar of his jean jacket. ❝ you really don’t want to do that. ❞ venom dripped from each word that slipped from negan’s mouth, ❝ you really 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 do that. not if you want to keep that head of your’s still attached to your body. ❞
and 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 here to play around. lucille was lifted, her sharp wires smelling heavy of copper only an inch from digging into the brunette’s smooth smooth cheek. ❝ you don’t want to underestimate the things that i will do. to you. to your home. and to anybody you consider a fucking friend. ❞
