Negan Twd - Tumblr Posts

Pissin' Our Pants Yet?- Chapter 3: The road

💕Pairing: Negan x Female Reader 

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Action, Smut, Sci-fi, The Walking Dead Fic

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount:

⚠️chapter warnings: Shitloads of cursing, Gore details (zombies), Mentions of cults, mentions of cult practices, dictatorship status

<<< 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2 | 𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 4 >>>

Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

My gratitude goes to @alldevilsarehere90 for her hard work on beta reading this huge chapters🧡

Scavenging with any group that leaves Sanctuary, occupies most of your days. What's outside is your world, where you know how to move, how to play. It's almost like you are trying to avoid reality, the view of what's going on in the lower floors of the building. Turning a blind eye to the Saviours' abuse towards people is the only way you could do so. Not being there. Still, it’s like it haunts you, seeing from the corner of an eye, how it gets perpetrated.

Negan has to agree with it when it's so common. There's no way he doesn't see or know, the Saviours' use of physical punishment to afront any sort of confrontation and the constant abuse of power when it comes to belongings. Your thoughts and actions twist to centre on winning him; the big bad wolf's trust. Without that, there's nothing you can do for these people or his wives. 

Most of your productive working time is around him as if he wants to be glued to you. He will ask your opinion on random things, sometimes important decisions that require some knowledge. It reminds you of when you were your mum's right hand and she would let you make decisions to evaluate your qualities as a possible successor. In his own words: he values your opinion as much as Simon's or any of the other high ranks, admitting it comes from your stay outside by yourself. He says it blows his mind that you've managed to survive on your own, remarking it has nothing to do with you being a woman.

It surprises him so much he asks more than once if it was, in fact,  six months because that's a lot of time to be on your own. The first time, you talked about the scars on your body, where they came from, and who or what caused them. Although you told him there were a few you couldn’t recall. You knew there was one he hadn't seen and that's the only one you avoid talking about.

The second time, it was more like asking for a reminder and when he asked about your group, you just didn't feel good talking about it. Surprisingly, he didn't push it further.

In the beginning, you thought his appreciation excluding your pretty face was touching, since he had been flirting with you from the moment he set eyes on you. At some point, you even expected him to be trying to push you into marrying him like he's done with his golden-caged birds. But on second thought, you figured out he's interested in understanding how your mind functions, for easier control since you have nothing to lose. It wasn’t a surprise but the idea still bothers you.

Inside the Sanctuary you feel the breath in the air coming from that many people living together. Different mindsets cluttered in the same space like a bee's nest, just less alike because the ones protecting the working bees are also their bullies. 

Being with people after such a long time alone doesn't seem to be your forté but being alone again is too fucked up to consider it an option. The world has become a deadly dangerous place with all those non-dead walking around and trying to take a chunk out of you. Although the survivors can be even worse. 

Here the rules matter, which seems to be engraved with fire in these people's minds. Negan keeps people alive in a system that's tough but works. Kind of. It reminds you of those documentaries you used to watch on TV about modern slavery in various countries, that made it sound too far to even suggest it could happen in yours. But here you are, observant of those images in the very place you live, just a few feet from you. 

Leaving that aside, you can admit freely that it has been partly luck that's kept you alive. Like it is with anyone else because anything can kill you these days. That, along with your ability to avoid people, if you're honest, is probably a big part of the equation. 

You'd say your aiming is your best quality and it's probably the best skill one needs to protect itself and hunt with or without guns. You are also very fast but when it comes to the rest of your skills, you'd say you are just about average. Incomparable to your mum who was awesome in everything she did. 

You tried to learn everything you could from her but she was exceptional. Losing her and your brother at the same time, destabilized your whole world and vision of it. That was partially why you left your group and wandered around aimlessly. You couldn't see things so clearly anymore, the mourning blinding your best judgement and decision-making. The memories of the days after their death are still confusing to this day.  

When you found yourself lonely and realized that was going to be the rest of your life, some sort of mad need for socialization took over you but boy, the things you saw on the road. Soon you understood it wasn't safe anymore to "apply" for another group's membership. But then you had to make peace somehow with your new reality. Going back to your group just wasn't an option because you didn't find them where they were supposed to be. They had probably waited long enough and thought you weren't going to come back or that you were the one dead already. 

That was until the mall happened. 

It did not seem a bad option after taking your security measures. You even unblocked the back doors as a safe passage if another group crossed you. But you trusted too much in your luck going to the first floor. In big places, the rules were to enter, pick up the goods as fast as you could and leave. At least, while being alone. 

Now, even with a short group of four, you feel kind of safe. Well, it's almost completely safe. Becoming a Saviour does affect one's ego, how could it not, when it makes people feel like they are on top of the world. Invincible. As if the walkers were just a minor problem, a day after day thing but even with that sensation building up in one's chest, nobody puts their guard down. That would be really stupid.

"Do Saviours get bit often?" You ask John, one of the guys in your group. Even if his name is also your brother's, they are nothing alike.

"Nah... It doesn't happen a lot. You worried?" he asks you, without stopping what he is doing. You mutter a simple, "Not really," and he smirks.

Your group is out of the safe zone, looking for supplies or anything interesting that could be of use. Maybe a well-positioned building for another outpost or another group to discipline for Negan. He did not want you on the search parties for the "problematic community" that had been running for the last week and a half. "New arrivals don't get those privileges, pretty face," he said to you in front of your group of newcomers, when you asked. 

You think that at least you are not the only fresh blood in the nest. Having all eyes set on you, people expecting things, good or bad, maybe both, sucks. 

In fact, even if the other Saviours found them and there was a plan going on, your group was not on the first line or in it at all that matters. You were told that almost every Saviour was going to be at the "final show" but Negan still didn't trust you enough to put you in certain positions outside. 

'Dude, get over it, get that stick out your ass. The flamethrower thing was a mistake!' you thought when Negan said: "You will stick to the basics until I know for sure you won't do the shot to send people running for the hills".

It all becomes routine, or sort of, as new days go by. You wake up before the clock in the mornings and take a shower in the commons, chit-chatting with Arat and Norma as you brush your teeth. There are other women around but these two are kind of the ones with whom you get along better. 

One morning, Arat praised your work and said you'll go up quickly if you keep working hard and giving useful input. One of the girls in the showers jokes about it being easier when you bend on your knees privately for Negan, a few laughs follow the statement, to which you spit out the toothpaste and calmly leave your toothbrush on the counter. Walking towards the shower, you hear Arat mutter an "oh-uh" although she doesn't stop you. Opening the curtain of who you know has said it, you grab her by the hair and bang her head against the wall, breaking her nose, then watching as she slides down the wall, moaning in pain. 

"For people like you, men treat women like shit," you say before spitting on her, then Arat makes her presence known beside you by putting a hand on your shoulder to turn you around. 

"She's learned her lesson," she mutters. "You won't say a word about this. Keep your mouth shut next time you feel like offending another woman for being better than you," she tells the one bleeding.

"I wasn't going to hit her again." You don't even feel right about it. You've just lost your temper too easily for your liking. Leaving aside the fact her type of attitude is the kind you despise. 'Sometimes people need to learn the hard way' you tell yourself unconvincingly. 

The incident did not leave that bathroom, although there were a lot of witnesses.

At lunchtime, you sit with Arat to eat some sort of spaghetti bolognese with meatballs in her apartment with Norma and Donna, another Saviour who is seemingly in some kind of relationship with Arat, when a knock on the door calls your attention. A low-ranking Saviour, just like you, opens it when given permission and informs them they have the Alexandrians under their radar. Negan is claiming Arat for planning and the three of you are left to eat alone. 

That same afternoon, while you are looking at the maps in your room memorizing the future attack, Negan's plan over the Alexandrians starts to roll because a bunch of them are leaving the community in an RV. It's an ambush, prepared like any other but it has coincided with someone running off from Sanctuary and a search party already there. The outposts near were fast to move and play their part, following the previous preparations. 

The plan is divided into phases. First step: you all had to wait until one of the lookouts that are surrounding Alexandria gave the intel on a number leaving the fortress. Second step: block the roads and get them to surrender. This part is already done.

There are two options after that: One; they will come out, in which case someone will have to bring their leader or you will go find him or her and put them all in their place. Someone has to die, "unavoidably" according to Negan, to prove the point that no one messes with him and his Saviours. He also added that he's being magnanimous as people didn't really know who they were messing with, so he isn't going to just take an eye for an eye. But once the rules are settled, there will be no place for mistakes. 

At this point, you are sure that isn't a subject of discussion and nobody has played the devil's advocate. You won't because you can easily understand why he's going to do that. Protecting his people first, saving people later, as it has to be. 

And option Two; they won't surrender, which would lead them to the same end but with Negan going harder on them. 

The plan is set and turns out you are indeed a part of it. Not all the Saviours are going to have the "privilege", as he pointed out, but you are, even though he originally said you wouldn't. And you are one hundred per cent sure it's to prove to you that no one can go against Negan's will. You hear a knock on your door and he enters after your "Come in".

"So, you've really been diving into your work here, huh?" he says, closing the door with a grin. "I have no problem with that, but I gotta say… Not being able to find you after your shifts…After what happened between us...Man, I would say, you are avoiding me. Not cool." he says practically into your ear, with his breath raising goosebumps on your neck.

"Guilty as charged," you admit. You have been, indeed, trying to avoid being left alone with him. You thank all the gods of the world for his discretion on the subject as you would probably slap him.

He had shown you the skilled lover he was, over and over, until you were spent under him, with both your bodies covered in sweat. Needless to say, you were impressed. 

As pleasure subsided, you were able to find your brain again and once he groaned on top of you and let his body fall to the side, something else surprised you. When he lay next to you in the tiny bed and pulled you to him, cuddling you against his chest. 

You fell asleep for a few minutes while twirling softly on the hairs of his chest, as he drew circles on the leg resting across his hips. When you woke up he was still there, his caress, tickling you awake. After kissing you softly, almost sweetly, he finally stood to get dressed and left with a courtesy, stating that management wasn't going to sort itself out.

After he left, you stood regardless of your naked form, to open the windows and refresh the air in the room, it came in fast and cold and although you welcomed it, you felt the iciness in your soul too. 

Did you let your attraction for him cross lines for what Sherry said, maybe out of fear? You weren't sure how you felt about him. Somewhere between attracted and concerned, and that wasn't exactly a good thing. The way he treated people was absolutely not your cup of tea. He is the kind of guy you would usually hate to be around.

Were you just having fun? Or were you expecting something to come out of it? This was something that was leading you to a dead end and you felt the need to run away like you always did when it came to men, sex, love and its relatives. Giving him what he wanted could keep away the idea of making you a caged bird from entering his head but it would take off the importance of whatever you did in the Saviours. Everybody would just see that you were giving it a try with the big bad wolf. 

It's all put in a delicate balance and you know it will fall apart. 

"This is not a good idea, Negan." you voice out.

"What in the holy hell are you talking about?" you've almost forgotten that you are facing the maps displayed on the wall.

"Everything," he raises a brow not believing what he is hearing. "This plan. You and me. Everything is fucked up, Negan. I'm not gonna be your lover and that's what I would be as I'm clearly not your wife." you say in a soft tone, just talking calmly. He opens his mouth but you cut him off before he says a word. "I have no interest in becoming one. I'm a woman of action. I have a clue why everybody follows your ass but I'm not falling in line in all ways. No. My life stays mine and I'm not even sorry for that." you had the intention to say it all calmly but at the end, you hear the heated tone in your words. It seems to happen too often lately, you are tense and restless. As if you were the one doing something wrong. "I do my fucking job, follow the rules and I'm a fucking damn loyal bastard to you because that's how I am. But I'm not going to let your--our." you can't put all the blame on him, "attraction, reduce my qualities as your new bed-warmer. I'm a fucking valid person for a bunch of reasons. I hope you can understand that." you say as you turn around slowly, having felt him cut the distance and his warmth behind you, expecting that sour feared face you've seen more than a couple of times, since being at the sanctuary. Surprisingly, there's a toothy grin with a furrowed brow, something you read as amusement.

"Wow. Yeah, I do! Don't cha worry darlin' we can keep this fuckin' hot thing going on between us as our little secret. That's no fuckin' problem for me." he speaks in a low whispery tone above your nose, meeting your eyes. "But no, you, like everybody else here, are mine," he says, brushing off the importance of the subject and yet putting emphasis on the possessive statement. You can't believe he said it just like that as if people were play-things and nothing more but decide that you will touch that subject at another point. "But what the fuck do you mean that you don't agree with the plan…" he says, having a mood swing like he usually does. That is a good quality for making people fear your reaction but you are way too built up to shut your mouth. Maybe because of his reference to you being his. 

"I think the way you're doing some things will backfire at us, the Saviours, right in the ass, Negan."  his demeanour turns dominant and stern, stormy eyes subject to objectification. "When you push people too hard, especially the ones that do what they've done to our people, they tend to unite and fight back till their last breath. You act as if people are belongings that don't know right from wrong-"

"I beg your pardon," he interrupts. At this precise moment, you know, you've fucked up. "Are you actually questioning me?" he gives you the look, the one that makes the toughest man look at their feet. You included. "Who are you?"

"Negan," you say, raising your head to meet his eyes again, obedient like a puppy. Experience has shown you that keeping your mouth shut, especially when you have not, is the best way to survive. You will do whatever you want because your life is yours, no matter what he says, you won't let others decide for you but sometimes, the best way to get away with what you want, or just simply get away from a difficult situation, is to make others believe that you agree with what they want. When people think that you're submissive they don't expect you to take opposite decisions from what they would want you to do.

"Then you will want what's best for you. Isn’t that right?" he says, still serious and raw. There is no possible objection to that statement. 

 "Yes, Negan," you give him the puppy eyes, so he smiles at you.

"I think we should take a ride. Just for the pleasure of it," You get scared for a second, he starts to take leave without waiting for your answer but stops. "That was a suggestion, by the way. Unless you're scared of being alone with me, darlin'." 

"Is this a date?" you ask him with an edge of sarcasm inside your words, relaxing as he does seem to have genuine intentions.

"Yeah." he gives you in a low breathy tone, like a whisper, while wrinkling his nose and showing his teeth, then bites his lower lip seductively. You chuckle.

"I think I might pass," you reply, putting on a poker face and he raises his eyebrows surprised. "Just kidding, let's get out of here, salt and pepper," he chuckles at the pet name. "I drive…" you say while you take the leave in front of him.

"No way I'm letting you drive my car!" he chuckles but you stop to look at him, brows arched.

"I swear to God, Negan, if you pull up that shit that a girl can't drive-" you are not even joking, it pisses you off. Men and women can work out the same things, it all depends on each individual's qualities, not the gender.

"Hey! Calm your tits down. Nobody swings Lucille, nobody drives my car, it’s as simple as that. Now, if you want to drive, you will have to find yourself a machine that works. My car, it's just mine," he says arching a brow in a way to say 'I don't want to have to repeat myself'.

"Got it," you say and start your walk to get to the garage. You jumping inside Negan's car raises some eyebrows but suddenly you don't care. 

You haven't noticed how much time you've spent in your room looking at those maps until a Saviour opens the garage door to let Negan's car out of the building, the sun already heading west, its light less intense, the temperature less hot. Perfect timing.

Out of the safe area, as it's circled on the maps, your head rests over your arm on the window breathing the fresh air as you close your eyes. The trip was definitely needed, for a second it's like this isn't the end of the world at all. Just two people on a date. Like when your worst problems, from a first world person where to pay your bills and maybe what to do on Saturday night. Now, all that seems so stupid, such nonsense. 

The car runs as smooth as new and you guess there's a mechanic at home. 'So cool. I should probably investigate the building more, I've been too busy working and hiding to know all that's offered.'

"So. Where do you want us to go, sweetheart?" you hear in the background, too taken by the moment. "Earth to Alice. Where are you, dollface?" he asks, almost with a genuine look.

"I'm right here, babe," you say, doing an impression of him.

"Are you trying to be cool?" he asks with a chuckle.

"I am already, pops" You turn on the music on his player. "I think that we should ride to a place that we don't know, to a place where no one has seen us before" sounds filling the vehicle, surprisingly, being that this is his car. "I'm thinking you and I better just go with the flow. The last thing that we should do is go slow..." you sing along, forgetting for a second he's asked you a question. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow, and then, looking at the front he accelerates. "A really adequate song, right? I didn't expect you to hear this kind of music."

"Arat said you might like it," he says with a smirk. 

"Wait. This was planned," you say matter-of-fact, changing your position on the seat to look at him directly. He smiles, looking at you. 'Of course, it is, he could not just leave like that for the sake of it. He's the leader, for Christ's sake.' you conclude. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." That's the last thing he says on the road.

He stops the car in the middle of a set of crops that has gone wild, the golden plants tickling in your fingers as you walk around enjoying the view. There is a forest a few yards away at the left, close enough for you to see a squirrel jumping up a tree. 'That would have been dinner… this is her lucky day.' 

"What is this place, planning on building a farm for retirement?" you ask, struggling to understand why he chose this place to travel to. It's beautiful, you have to admit it, the view extends for miles, so much that you can't see the details at the end of it.

"Don't be impatient. You'll see it pretty soon." He leans on the car and takes a packet of cigarettes from the side pocket of his leather jacket. He takes one and turns it. "A smoke?" he leaves the filter of a cigarette showing for you to take it, as an offer.

"No, thanks. Never did, I have no intention to start now that I need my lungs to run," The smile coming to that statement confirms he already knew it. You lean on the car close to him, you know he does not smoke that often for the smell of his skin and his breath. "What are we looking at?"

"Damn, woman! Patience…" he says, his pretty smile holding the cigarette with the side of his lips. You fake a pucker followed by a naughty smile that makes him snort and roll his eyes in amusement.

Closing your eyes when the soft breeze warmed up by a sunny day hits your face. You keep them closed enjoying the moment trying to engrave this memory in your mind to hold onto when things go wrong. For the future, if there is any. The warmth against your face, the smell of the trees, the plants that are tickling your legs over the trousers... and Negan, like a second sun to this earth, giving life, taking it, volcanic, warm, symbolic… 

In other circumstances you two would probably never have crossed. He was from somewhere else, he sure had a wife or at least a girlfriend, there is no way he was alone. None of his actual wives were with him before Sanctuary so maybe he lost her on his way through surviving. The world had always been like this: one day you had someone but you could lose it the next; an accident, a murder, a disease… people were always fragile, even if they felt invincible. What went down, only accentuated that fact. It showed the truth within, what was held in the shadows, the taboos. At least in most people. In others, it surfaced the feel of the community, the need to survive together, and the strength of grouping up. 

You think you are somewhere in the middle, far from perfection. You are inclined to protect the weak. Good, noble while others are good to you.  Savage, wild, fearless… cruel if there's someone evil, despicable. Negan stirs your darkness with some acts as much as he stirs the light inside you. It's a balance that can easily be consumed by the darkness. Everything points to it. Your mentality with the time has grown patient and yet, you live in the moment. 

This is a beautiful moment to live in, so you live it. 

You hear the sound of his breath exhaling the smoke of his slowly consumed cigarette, enjoying it. With that mundane action and your previous knowledge of him, you notice that, despite his attitude of walking on air, he still makes the most of everything he does. You've seen him do that with the wrong stuff that has you on edge but you realize, it's not that he's a bad person, it's just him doing what you are; living the moment and owning his shit with no regrets. 'Maybe we are not so different after all.'

A new breeze brings his scent to you, now mixed with the nicotine but still his. You memorize it; the touch of his body on your side is warm and makes you feel less lonely, even if it’s unreal. 'We are born alone and we die alone,' has been your mantra. You notice that you have been starting to feel the excitement you normally do when you're around someone you have a crush on. Knowing if you let it continue like that, even if it’s just for a second, it will surely become a car crash for you. As much as he is the sun and you can need him, you might get burned if you have too much. 

You were never emotionally attached to the boys you slept with or if you ever did you killed it as soon as it appeared, leaving some heartaches in your past, or maybe not, you always ignored it. What you don't know won't hurt you. 'This can't be different' you tell yourself.

You open your eyes when he clears his throat, without knowing how much time you have had them closed. His gaze is on you but your eyes are focused solely on the horizon where the sunset, one of the most beautiful ones you've ever seen, starts to turn the sky into a spectacle of colors. As if the sun itself has set the clouds on fire above you. You feel as if the tears confined inside you are going to spill rivers on your cheeks, moved by the most beautiful thing you have seen in a long, long time. 

Watching the sunset was a thing you used to do with someone very special -before ice covered your heart-, it was in those moments that you stayed silent and the world seemed to be only for the two of you. The rest of the world disappears, making all the noises muffled as if you were deaf and the only thing that mattered was the sky burning. 

Life has become so painful since then and no one you've ever cared about can enjoy this anymore, they can't see any of this anymore. You feel the knot in your throat and you start to freak out. No crying in front of others. Never.

"You know how to get a lady into your bed…" you say cheekily trying to avoid him thinking you are into sentimental stuff, not that you are these days. He smiles almost sadly, he has his eyes lost in the sky, melancholic. 'You two are not that different. He's lost someone too. Who is he thinking about?' 

"What can I say? I'm a gentleman," he says, in a flirty tone, taking another whiff of smoke to his lungs. That’s when you notice he's taken the chance to put his arm around your waist, while you are lost in the view and he uses it to get you near him. The hand starts moving lower and with it, a naughty smile appears on his face.

"That hand has dishonest intentions, gentleman," you say rolling your eyes and in a quick move he puts you up on the bonnet of the car. You give him room to slide his body between your thighs. "Oh! Your body acts like a hooker." He laughs at that. He's so warm, so sexy. You escape the kiss he wants to give you, to go to his neck, smelling him while you give him soft bites on his hot skin. It drives you crazy. You let your back fall against the metal and you cover your eyes with the back of your hand.

"Jesus, if you ain't a vision.." he mutters in a little husky tone. You exhale, hearing a chuckle and one of his thumbs caressing your lower lip. Your arms slide above your head as he leans forward on top of you with eyes that show the desire burning inside of him just like the sunset that you have just seen. You want him to show you. Closing your ankles behind him and your arms on his neck, you pull him against your body. When his mouth finds yours,  his lips capturing yours, it's as if time stops. The way his lips press and move against yours, his tongue moving slowly just at the entrance of your mouth, makes you light-headed. Your body itches for more, absorbed by the feeling of him. His lips move down to your chin, then neck, an expert hand pulling your hips against his with a single move. Pressing his erection against your core, your breath catches, and your lungs almost fail to work.

In a fast move, he unties your belt and takes off your trousers, faster than you've ever seen a man capable of. 'He must have had a lot of practice,’ you guess. He puts a hand on your waist pulling you towards him again as his parted lips meet yours. Then with just one hand he unties his belt and zips down his trousers. The hand over your waist trails down to your pelvis sneaking inside your panties, fingers testing the waters to make sure you are ready for what comes next. You are. 

He pulls his trousers down slightly to make room for his member to make an appearance and simply slides your panties to the side. A word crosses your head 'Condom' and as if he can read your mind, he takes something from his wallet, and puts it within his lips, his teeth helping to break the package. With a fast movement of both hands, he has it on.

"So you were ready, huh?" you suggest, under his complete control. He's making you dance his waltz. 'But damn if it ain't the hottest one.' At this very moment, it doesn't matter who holds the power. He nods with raised brows and a smirk.

He smiles as his tip finds your slit, moving slowly up and down to coat up your entrance for him. His slide-in fills you comfortably in three swift motions, the craving for him growing as he stills inside you, observing your expression. He clearly finds something he likes, because he starts to move increasingly at each moan his hard rock elicits from you and you love the little growls and grunts that your constricting walls rip out of him. 

You raise your upper body to let your lips meet, your initial tenderness is soon followed by a soft bite and pull of his lower lip, increasing the sounds of flesh meeting flesh as that little touch of sin motivates him. Your lips run over his neck and a bite finds his jaw, making him grunt as both his hands press his hips against yours. Your walls tense as you edge closer to your orgasm. Suddenly the static of the radio on the dashboard distracts you from reaching the sky, although Negan does not cease until he hears the words. 

"Negan, we have them." Negan's face turns towards the car, his passionate expression now gone and something different in his eyes, something dark, something that sends shivers through your spine as he pulls away. The shadow of a premonition that something bad is about to happen. 

A quiet moment extends as Negan climbs off of you, his brown orbs lighting a little when his eyes meet yours again, making you relax slightly. He tidies himself before zipping up his pants to go and pick up the radio. The mood he displays as he answers contrasts completely with what you've seen and felt exuding from him only seconds before. With the radio in his right hand, the other one finds your waist and he kisses your forehead. 

"I'm sorry, babe," Negan says in a low apologetic tone. "We will pick this up where we leave it after this shit's sorted." Right after his words, he kisses your neck, giving closure to the moment with a deep kiss, pressing his body against yours. His own needs unsatisfied, he sighs after the kiss in annoyance. You just nod and give him an understanding smile. 'He is a charming bastard. He had you under him the day after picking you up. God damn you if you fall in love with him… This is just fun for him. He already has the rest: housewife, paramour. Six times.'

Telling yourself you'll manage the feelings as you've always done, you decide he is convenient for survival, sex is just that; sex. He's the hottest man you've seen in years, counting before all of this, the chemistry unavoidably obvious and you need to feel it, you need to live it. As well as being a dangerous man to go playing around with feelings that can tear your life apart if something goes wrong. 'Mistakes with men like him are paid with blood and tears.'

Negan speeds up on the empty road, you feel the smooth roar of the car as it settles at seventy miles per hour. There is no other authority than him now, so, who will tell him not to? You would, if you didn't find it amusing.

As much as you don't agree with the kidnapping, killing, humiliating and basically robbing of other communities' supplies, you understand the plan that will go on tonight. Besides your late protest about how Negan pushes people to their limits, you get why this is happening, and why he says he is being magnanimous with this group. Indeed, if someone killed that many numbers, even just killing one of the people you cared about, you would want hell to fall upon those offenders. 

Looking at the plan from an objective and subjective point of view, it is epic. The number of members participating, cutting roads, redirecting them to the hot spot… it's by far intimidating. Negan has power and many subjects to follow his orders, whatever he wants to do, gets done, and that's quite bone-chilling. His domains extend day by day and those who say one day everything might belong to him are not far from the truth. He is a warlord bending over every community on his path but the little thing that seems to escape his comprehension is the limits between showing power and humiliation. That will backfire on him some day no matter how many people stand at his back. He's not a God, he's just a human, bone and flesh that can bleed and die. 

For some reason, that worries you. It's not just that the myth that holds together the Sanctuary, would die, leaving the civilians to some merciless Saviours, it's unsure if Negan's not there his lieutenants will keep his rules and guidelines. There's something else. You've been around him enough hours a day, received enough praise for your mind or good choices, seen enough sneers and chuckles, enough reward and punishment for the guy to grow on you. Thankfully not romantically but in an appreciative manner. Maybe some weird admiration.

He's built something from scratch, kept people alive, and created a system and rules to keep people safe. Everything that so many other communities have struggled with, even when things were easier, he's kept it tight and together. That, at least earns him some respect from you. The primal instincts he awakes in you are just a that’s a whole new ballgame.

When you arrive, the sun has fully disappeared leaving its place to the stars and the moon. His men are following the plan down to the last inch, you can only see the cars parked and the mentioned RV in the middle of the clearing. A mulled-haired guy, beaten up, stays on his knees with a Saviour at his back pointing a rifle at him, to the touch of the artificial light. Simon's been radioing in with every detail he could get his paws on, so you know this one's the driver and the others are moving on foot inside the forest. You are just too many for them to stand a chance and you wouldn't like to be in their place. 

Simon notices you getting out of the car along with Negan, and smiles, although you are sure he did not see Negan kissing your temple before that. You guess he’s just figured it out,  Negan hasn’t gone mouthy on the subject before you talked with him previously. Simon is his right-hand man and you guess he's confident too, to occupy such position. Even with that, it pisses you off that he knows what you've been doing as if it was his business, wanting to erase that mustache-smile off his face. 

Negan, being the leader, walks in front of you, looking at the stuff the Saviours have found on the trailer, displayed on the trunk of a car for Negan to see. As he goes to inspect the goods you stay behind, leaning on the same car as Simon. "I dare you to smile like that again and see what happens…" flows through your lips, giving him a side-eye, without giving a chance for his response you move closer to Negan. The smile on your lips is hidden by the dim illumination from Simon's sudden wide eyes, although at this very second you can feel him burning holes on your back.     

"They are like little mice running directly to the cat's mouth. And. I. Am! The big-sized cat!" says Negan with his characteristic toothy smile, getting your attention and Simons' too. "I almost feel pity for them!" he adds with a burst of laughter that ends in a high-pitched squeak of his breathing, like he always does when he finds something very funny. Simon and the Saviours present, laugh back. You can tell that there is something off in him, you just cannot tell what it is. 'Surely you are not that obedient, right, Simon? Maybe you are hiding something,' you think for yourself. Not even a smile appears on your face, knowing someone is going to die tonight. You might understand why it's going to be done, you might even agree with it, but enjoyment is far from what you feel about it. Negan looks at you with an arched brow, his smile fades just a little before he adds. "Let's get down to business, shall we? Alice, come 'ere." And you obey. "Time to prove yourself," he says, lowering his tone a little. "You wait here and be a good Saviour. Simon! You know what to do," he says, as he gets inside the RV.  

"Right! Let's get this set up," Simon makes you put a van full of bullet holes near the RV, some other cars are parked facing the center, then Negan turns off the lightning and they move the Alexandrian further. Just after, Simon organizes your positions, patting your shoulder to pity you for what you might see. There's an echoed sound of whistles through the forest and you join them as you have been commanded, walking to the back of the semicircle of Saviours, to watch for any walker attracted by the sound. 

There is nowhere to run for the poor souls that are about to be punished. No one can cross the Saviors and get away with it, that, you have clear. There is punishment. There is and will always be punishment. 

Finally, seconds later, the rest of the group arrive at the meeting point carrying a stretcher, just to find themselves surrounded by the Saviors coming from everywhere around the forest and the incessant whistle. Negan's trademark whistle. There is nowhere to hide, their RV parked in front of them, now the lights of the cars turning on, blinding them for a second while the Saviours that followed them make the closing wall of the circle. Looking like deers surrounded by wolves, fear of the unknown is written all over their faces. The general whistles start to fade, yours too. Then a thick silence is made.

"Good. You made it. Welcome to where you were going." says Simon, walking forward. You observe one more time behind you, other Saviours keeping their ears up for walkers or other guests but it has to look like you all are just watching a show. "We will take your weapons," he adds, extending his arms vaguely to the rest of the team, then points a gun to one of them, a kid with a wounded eye. "Now." 

'Very brave, Simon…' you think.

"We can talk about-" speaks up a man with a peppery beard and really strong southern accent, who seems to finally understand the situation they had put themselves into.

"We're done talking. Time to listen," throws Simon in a meaningful tone. Some men approach the group to take the weapons and he walks to the kid. "That's yours, right?" he closes in on the child, adopting a menacing stance. "Yeah, it's yours," adds before clipping on the kid sheriff hat. Regaining his posture he commands. "Okay! Let's get her down and get you all on your knees. Lots to cover."

"Hold up," says a redhead that looks like he could definitely put up some resistance. Big muscles and a fierce look that also exudes from his very being. 'A soldier,' you can guess. You've seen enough of them to be able to tell them apart. "We got it."

"Sure, sure," replies Simon, making a signal for them to proceed. They help a short-haired woman that looks very sick to get to her knees in the center. For the others, it takes a little longer to obey. "Gonna need you on your knees," replies Simon starting to get impatient. "Dwight!"

"Yeah," answers the blonde fellow, dutifully.

"Chop-chop," Simon commands, to the expectant man. 

"Come on. You got people to meet," Dwight moves from behind the crowd and advances to the bullet-holed van. The first person you see shocks you to the bone. 'Daryl!' you freeze. 'He's alive!? What is he doing here!? Oh god, I moved that van!' So many questions are building in your head that you start to spiral. The last time you saw Daryl the world was guided by less hard rules than survival, or at least that was the image portrayed by everything surrounding you. Times when you were way younger and with fewer experiences in life over your shoulders. Those were by far, sweeter times.

You met Daryl when you were twenty and he was twenty-seven, by chance, getting into the worst-looking bar in your area with your "friends". They were in one of those reckless moods and they called you for a girls' night, although they were nearer to Daryls' age than yours. 'Why am I with them again? Oh, yeah! My mum wants me to be nice to them because they are her new friends' daughters.' you told yourself each time. You ended up sticking with them, though you were a lone wolf and by far very different from them. 

"If you want to feel like you are wild, or whatever, we could go for a bungee jump. You are just going to find a bunch of regular people chilling, I'm telling you," you told them that afternoon. You knew that to be a fact but they did not listen. 

When you opened the door because somehow you were the head of the group, although you weren't even allowed inside by age, your eyes found Daryl instantly. You knew right in that second, the guy was just a bit odd in his group. A quiet guy, in a group that looked like the kind of pricks you would like to kick their asses. Troublemakers, busting up fights. The kind with 'I'm a prick because my parents neglected me and I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with my life,’ as a life excuse. 

Merle, Daryl's brother, called you and your friends over to sit with them, as they spotted you at the door and the impulsive girl of the group was walking there before you could stop her. The rest had to run after her, looking at each other with longing of going home.

'There are only two ends to this night,' you thought. You walked behind them with your sassy face and took your seat at Daryl's side. He looked at you sideways, not sure of what to do or not sure what you had in mind with him.

"Come on Daryl! Say something to the girl. You might finally get your ugly ass laid today, boy!" Merle laughed at his brother. Daryl, annoyed, flicked his tongue. He seemed bothered about something. You thought he was cute but did not say anything to him and instead glared at Merle. "Come on darling, you know why four girls have come here alone, dressed like that. And if you don't, well, you are too innocent to be here." 

Your clothes were quite normal, according to the fashion trends, not that you should have apologized if they weren't. Your sweetheart neckline sleeveless skater black dress was over your knees. Your friends wore similar things, showing more or less thigh, but that was not his business anyway.

"Dressed like what? We are not on display for your entertainment. Asshole." your voice slid through in his direction, venom staining your tongue, ready to bite at the wrong move. Your friends looked at you as if you just poked a bear with a stick.

"Be careful how you speak to me, girl. We are having fun! Don't be such a party pooper!" growled Merle, as if his sexist comment was not a serious thing that was meant to offend.

"How I-But you just-" you almost said, taking it way personal.

"Let's go for a drink," interrupted Daryl, with a calm tone, standing up. You didn't know he did it for your sake that night because Merle would, no doubt, have slapped you. You liked the fact he finally said something to you and gladly followed him. "You guys should leave, this is not your place," he said when you took a seat on a stool, looking behind to see his brother getting touchy with one of your "friends", she gave you an ok signal and a wink. You turned around rolling your eyes.

"Well, thanks for the advice but I'm not the one that chose the worst bar in town," he looked at you sideways again, kind of offended. "I meant no offense." He just nodded and handed you the beer that he just purchased. 'Cool! He has no idea I'm not old enough to drink! If I tell him they might kick me out… what would these airhead girls do next…  Damn. Why do I even bother?'

"I-Doesn't matter!" you interrupted yourself and made a toasting gesture with it. You told him your age later that night and although Merle made a joke about that he should keep away from jailbait, Daryl did not seem too bothered to see you again the next weekend, as you met them with the friend that was now hooking up with Merle.

He was difficult at first, whether it was for your age or him being uncomfortable around new people, you weren’t sure. You hung around and tried to be easygoing with him, although you would jump down the other guys' throats if they tried to talk to you. You kind of knew how to earn a biker's respect, it wasn't you trying to be someone you were not, just you being who you didn't trust to be around other men. 

He seemed to be good at reading people because he seemed to do it with ease, almost as well as you, only far more silent. Your persistence paid off and within a few months, his sweet and kind side became more obvious for you. It was easy to understand where that volatile character came from, he was raised by Merle and his parents indeed neglected them, which made him have to work for everything himself. There was never really anyone there for him to trust or rely upon, besides his brother. And Merle wasn't exactly a solid rock.

The more you talked, the more you were able to wheedle from him. The more you were able to see beyond the surly attitude he had towards everyone, it was a defence mechanism but that was it, he didn't do a single thing to go rogue or do bad things per se if he followed his brother it was his brother who did wrong, not him. For some people, it was difficult to separate them from behavior and action, so Daryl was harshly misjudged, which only fed his aversion towards people. But it was truly not that difficult to get along with him if you dismissed disruptive judgments. 

Your mother did not like him at first and asked you to stay away from him, that pissed him off when he found out about it. He asked you to leave him alone and said 'What is a nice college girl doing with a savage town boy, anyway? Your mum is right, we don't match.' But when you made your way to see him again because you knew he was pushing you away. To avoid bad blood between you and your family, he did not send you away or say anything to make you feel bad about your argument. The two of you just sat next to each other until you reached for the hand resting over his thigh while getting closer to him, then you tangled your fingers with his and he did the same.

The physical contact was just a world apart, at first it was difficult because you weren't sure how to interact. You liked the guy, so you wanted to let him know he was different from the other man you talked to. You had always seemed like a cold bitch in that aspect of your life, not sure if it was for the way your mum was around her people, even if she was an affectionate mother, or if it was for the thought that guys had to earn any sort of closeness from you.

It was probably the latter because that mentality has not changed that much. You have to like someone very much to be physical in any way. On the other hand, he flinched at your approaches at first, so you respected his personal space for months until he got used to having you around for a little bit more than talking.

It was you who took the initiative in sex, even being a virgin because he was always very reserved when it came to the subject. You were kind of worried about what kept him from advancing, so you made sure to be clear enough on how far you wanted him to go. 

That day, you placed a condom box over his nightstand making sure he saw you do it, the rest was history. He was delicate and gentle, it stung at first but it wasn't painful at all and he even made you feel the fireworks. For what you knew, the first time this wasn't always the case. Besides that, Daryl didn’t seem to be a very sexual person.

You were in love with him, nothing stopped you from being with him, and no one was able to come between the two of you. You even managed to tolerate Merle in his ways and inopportune jokes. That was until his dealing with drugs fucked up everything.

Your eyes grow wet from the memories and you force yourself to blink them away. It is not the moment for a breakdown. You always knew you were not over what happened with you two but had pushed your feelings so far away in the back of your mind when you moved. You didn't know how bad that wound was still stinging, until now.

All you can do in the situation you are in is to put on your 'cold as ice' face back on and keep your shit together. At least until you get your thoughts and feelings in place and order. 

"We've got a full boat! Let's meet the man," Simon approaches the RV and knocks at the door, then walks back to where the future Negan's victims are, to stand behind them. Negan opens the door and steps out with all his weight, bouncing on his knees with Lucille’s placed intimidatingly at his shoulder. Displaying his pearly whites in a wicked grin and in that exact moment, you know that something you won't forget is about to happen. Something really, really bad.

Taglist @stxrg4zer

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

Pissin' Our Pants Yet?- Chapter 4: New order

💕Pairing: Negan x Female Reader 

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Action, Smut, Sci-fi, The Walking Dead Fic

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 9173

⚠️chapter warnings: Shitloads of cursing, Gore details (zombies), Mentions of cults, mentions of cult practices, dictatorship status

<<< 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3 | 𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 5 >>>

Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

My gratitude goes to @alldevilsarehere90 for her hard work on beta reading this huge chapters🧡

"Pissing our pants yet?" says Negan, the wicked big bad wolf on full display, the dance of shadows and lights in the clearing only making him look more imposing. The alpha in him is exuding from every pore through the depths of his hatred. 

'That's how he uses his anger. He channels it to dominance and subjugation,’ you think as you watch Lucile with her dangerous wires resting at his shoulder, his head held high. If you would have met him in this situation instead, you would have felt far more terrified of him than you were back in the mall. His characteristic smile back to his lips as he starts to walk, knowing they are not yet aware of the things Gregory the pencil dick has told Simon about them. "Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close.'' He keeps on his advances, calmly, inspecting the prey, checking each one of them in a semicircle. "Yep, it’s gonna be Pee-Pee Pants City here, real soon," his smile doesn't fade an inch at any moment, then casually points at each one of them while asking: "Which one of you pricks is the leader?" 

"It's this one," Simon replies, pointing to a slim man seemingly in his mid-forties, judging by his peppery beard. Looking at Negan as if he isn't surrounded by at least fifty men or as if Negan is as much of a threat as a walker without legs. To a certain point, you can understand his attitude. 'The dude has taken down a bunch of Saviours like they were pigs waiting to be slaughtered, instead of soldiers to a tyrant's regime,' you remind yourself. "It's this guy," adds Simon with his typical second-in-command tone. Negan looks at the guy up and down, first curious, then gets closer, smiling widely. He already knew. 

"Hi, you’re Rick, right?" he licks his molars, knowing he’s about to break some tough questions for these people, surely: the 'What's he going to do to us?' one. But starts talking seriously and the darkness shown in his features just seconds ago, makes its way into his words. Simon, in front of you, seems to be somewhere darker, his body so tense while seeming to be standing casually, you are sure you heard his joints snap. Like a contained animal on a tight leash. "I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people," his eyes strain and his voice grows lower with those words. 

"Not cool. Not fucking cool. You have no idea how not fucking cool that shit is," the guy looks at him and you notice that sparkle in Negans eyes. Something crosses his mind. "But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah, you are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes," that smile slowly comes back to his face, the lights making his pearls stand against the dark expression in the rest of his demeanour. "Yes, you are," his tongue travels to the side of his mouth again and for some sick reason you find that sexy. "You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter fuckin' what, you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this, and it’s really very simple, so, even if you’re stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it." There's a short pause in his speech. "You ready? Here goes, pay attention:" he adds, dropping Lucille from his shoulder to point to the guy who's sweating and shaking like jelly, probably starting to notice there's no way out or trying to figure one out, making him move uncomfortably away from her. 

"Give me your shit, or I will kill you," a confident smile appears on Negan's lips. You are the only lucky bastard at Sanctuary on that matter, there's nothing that Negan can threaten you with besides your own life and you are sure he already knows that wouldn't even be a threat. That is until Daryl has reappeared in your life and something has twisted in your soul. Bringing back the threat of trouble and something old, something you thought you left on the road. "Today was career day." Negan starts to pace in front of them with Lucille at his side, talking louder for everyone to hear. Not that you couldn't in this forest of silence. "We invested a lot so you would know who I am, and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me," he points to a short-haired woman. "That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly mother-fuckin' will." there's some rage in his voice but he knows tonight the rules will be engraved in every single one of their minds with blood. That smile coming and going in the meantime, makes you hope it's just his way of making people think he doesn't care about hurting people to make them fall in line. "You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe. I get it. But, the word is out: You are not safe. Not even close." emphasising those last words to make a point. 'We are the only ones safe, the Saviours. Only if we follow his rules.' It makes you shiver. 

"In fact, you are fucked. More fucked if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. And if that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now," he explains, extending his arms referring to the situation they are in. "The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So if someone knocks on your door, " he chuckles, "you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us, and we will knock it down. Do you understand?'' Then he cups his ear not really expecting a response, as he arches his brows towards Rick. All probably because there's still some glare-fight coming from his little crowd. The courtesy isn't replied. "What, no answer?" He steps back again to direct himself to the kneeling group. 

"You don’t really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, now, did you?" you look at the group stopping your eyes from staying too much on the one body you know. You knew him but you can't stop the thought: 'Anyone but him, please.'  "I don’t want to kill you, people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can’t do that if you’re fuckin' dead, now, can you? I’m not growing a garden.'' Then you notice a change in the air, so thick it could be cut with a knife as if the words before were just a warm-up and he is starting the main event. Starting to get serious. "But you killed my people, a whole damn lot of them, more than I’m comfortable with. And for that, for that, you’re gonna fucking pay. So now, I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you." he makes a slight pause to put his weapon of choice on display. 

"This, this is Lucille, and she is awesome. All this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor.'' He keeps walking and stops in front of a redhead that gives him a 'Let it be me, I'm not scared of you,' kind of look, to which Negan smiles, inhaling sharply while rubbing his beard. "Huh. Ugh, I gotta shave this shit," he mutters to himself, then keeps walking till he sees the young man with the patch on his eye. "You got one of our guns." Negan squats in front of the kid. "Yeah. You got a lot of our guns," his gaze grilling on the kid but the boy keeps eye contact. You shiver, thinking that giving him a stink eye in this situation is probably a dead sentence but the boy is so young, he's probably not yet had the time to make big mistakes to pay for. 

"Shit, kid, lighten up. At least cry a little," Negan tells him with a chuckle before clearing his throat. He moves around still not deciding, just creating tension before choosing who's gonna die tonight. But stops in front of the short-haired woman again, who already looked like she was going to pass out when she was put down from the makeshift bed and she looks even worse now, judging from Negan’s ‘not giving a fuck tone’, says: "Je-sus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now-"

"No! No!" shrieks an east asian guy, near to tears as he launches forward towards the woman. You bet, to protect her. 'They are a couple, definitely.' Dwight and another Savior reduce him quite violently, the first one pointing the crossbow to his head while the guy grunts on the ground.

"Nope," Negan, who has been watching the whole thing, starts to move again. "get him back in line," commands before sighing.

"N-noo…" grunts the guy while Dwight drags him to his place again. Then growls and yells with impotence and desperation. 'They don't look like bad people, in fact, they look like pretty normal people you would find at the grounds of Sanctuary. Maybe they just wanted to defend themselves' but it's not your call. "Don't... Don't…" the guy continues to plead, Negan chuckles again but you can't see the fun in all this even if he pointed it out to you.

"Hey, listen. Don't any of you, do that again. I will shut that shit down. No exceptions. First one's free. It's an emotional moment," Negans' smile comes back again, "I get it." He pauses. At this point, it seems obvious how many times he's done this to know how to increase the tension and not let the situation become a bloodbath. You realise that this might, indeed, be a tough choice. He has to choose between them the one that will seal the deal. They all are very close to each other somehow, from what you've heard along the waves, seems like the community is tightly bonded together. "Sucks, doesn’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit?" He looks at them and stops his eyes at the kid again, then points him with Lucille and his gaze shifts towards Rick. "This is your kid, right?" he laughs cruelly, sucking in a croaky breath. As if it's been a funny realisation, although you know he already knew somehow before making that comment. "This is definitely your kid!" he adds with a chuckle.

"So stop that!-" growls Rick, finally saying something.

"Hey! Do not make me kill the little future serial killer. Don’t make it easy on me," he suggests, showing off that he already knows who is who and what's been done. "I gotta pick somebody. See, everybody's at the table waiting for me to order." He starts to walk again, with his characteristic whistle, letting the air break through his teeth before saying: "I simply cannot decide..." Then turns, giving them his back, before another dark chuckle escapes, adding to his mystique. Turning, again, to look at them, he adds:  "I got an idea…" wetting his lips, giving it a little thought and his teeth gleaming brightly again. A terrible one, you guess. 

"Eenie. Meenie." he starts, pointing at each one of them, starting at Rick. "Miney. Mo. Catch. The tiger. By. His toe. If. He hollers. Let him go..." he moves to the other end of the lined-up people. "My mother. Told me. To pick. The very. Best. One. And you. Are. It." The time stops for a second, so does your heart in anticipation. Something familiar, yet unknown, stirring up some old emotion close to terror in you. Pure terror. "Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doing that!" The mighty strength put on Lucille for the first hit affects his last words. Then something stops in you, a numbing sensation, swallowing anything you'd been feeling until this moment. Your blood cold in your veins as you see real blood dripping. Some old memory triggering but it doesn't clarify, it doesn't show in your mind. "Oh! Look at that! Taking it like a champ!"

"Suck. My. Nuts," replies the redhead as the blood starts flowing through his head and drips down. The people who know him cry and grunt in desperation. You can do nothing, you just stand there trying to seem like you are looking, but your mind is not focused on that anymore. 

It is hard to see someone you know, do those kinds of things to someone else but you remind yourself that this is survival to the fittest, you have chosen a side, you don’t know these people. You have to stick to the plan. They killed a bunch of your people. You are not a heartless bitch for this. Just one kill, just one and everything will be over. Your head spins on the times you've killed, it was always personal somehow: someone who was a threat, someone who'd hurt you or your family, someone hurting someone else who couldn't defend themself… What was really that different from this? Nothing. Your hands are dirty too. Who hasn't killed these days?

"Did you hear that?" You focus back to a mass of brain and blood instead of where a head should be, on the floor. Negans' voice is tired from the effort. "He said: Suck my nuts!" He exclaims, before laughing. He continues to smash the mass. This only adds to the distress of the people on their knees. Negan moans by the strength put on his act and you forget for a second the situation you are in. "Look at this!" he swings Lucille, spraying blood everywhere and makes that deep husky laugh, when he’s enjoying something way too much. "You guys, look at my dirty girl!" he continues between tired breaths. "Sweetheart. Lay your eyes on this." He adds, pointing to a woman within the kneeling group and sighs heavily. "Oh, damn. Were you- Were you together?" points out moving Lucile between the corpse and the woman. "That sucks. But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this. Red- and hell, he was, is, and will ever be red. He just took one or six or seven for the team!" he concludes, with dark humor added to his last line. You can hear all of them breathing shakily, affected by the circumstances and it spins your head, unable to get joy from it. Unable to convince yourself that joking around in a situation like this is acceptable. "So, take a damn look!'' Then,  before you notice that you have been walking at all and even less moved, you are grabbing Daryl who has tried to jump on top of Negan, surely to punch him. You whisper in his ear "Be smart, don't get anyone else killed..." he moves his head to look at you, eyes wide open, then tries to shake off from your grip. 

"Daryl!" shouts Rick.

"No! Oh, no." You see Negan pointing at Rick. After a little silence, he chuckles looking at you. Your mind processes then that he might assume you protected him, which you did too, somehow. But the darkness in his sight gives you the thought he might have caught on to  you and Daryl knowing each other. If that is it, you two are fucked, in one way or another. "Get him on his knees."

You obey and retire back to your place on the right side in the background, you begin shaking worried he might kill Daryl as he warned just minutes before. Simon approaches, "Calm down, sweetheart," he whispers, but you barely notice. The way you shake being the telltale sign of how troubled you are, makes you shoot him a murderous look and even with all his height and strength he backs up, hand leaving your shoulder. A thought occurs to you, that if Negan kills Daryl... 'Why do you still care, you idiot!? He broke up with you ages ago! Literally, ages, what? Ten-eleven-twelve years ago? Shit, who can remember that...? Maybe he is not the person you remember him to be.' You keep strong but know you will hate Negan if he kills him. You would kill him. 

In a normal situation, you would be working in a conversation with Daryl. Settle things for you to move on from the past for good. Not that you would bother with anyone else. After all, you were raised not to take bullshit from anyone. But now, 'Shit... This totally sucks...'. 

Negan looks at you once more but your head is already spinning to the past. 

You tie your middle-length, dyed black hair in a ponytail before you hand him a cup of hot chocolate from the thermos. Then you rest your head on his thighs once again. Staring up at the sky full of bright tiny dots in the darkness whilst you caress the picnic blanket next to his legs with your index, making circles while watching your breaths making foggy clouds in the air.

It was your idea to go see the stars in the middle of November but it's the best time to go stargazing, when there's less heat and humidity haze, not that you couldn't see them in summer but the view was definitely better. 

The road to Brasstown Bald has also been enjoyable by itself. Anything that has to do with going on Daryl's bike is pleasurable to you. Sometimes you wish you could just have your own and at this point, you know Daryl wouldn't be the kind to shame you about it. You can't say the same about your mum, she definitely would oppose the idea. She has had enough of her son being a biker, she doesn't want her daughter to be a biker herself. Little does she know you are actually an ol' lady. Even Merle calls you that.

You pull your furry blanket higher due to the cold and Daryl's gaze drifts towards you. In a quick movement, he places his drink over the grass, peeling off his own blanket and lies down next to you. Then takes the spare blanket and pulls it over the one you already have.

Although your heights are not so different, his much bigger frame makes you feel tiny in his arms as you cuddle, with your head against his chest. His breaths and his heartbeat are like lullabies. The tenderness filling your heart makes you wish moments like this could last forever. 

It's surprising how many things your body can do automatically. You've moved into the background from one edge of the crowd to another, being now on the left. Even with that, you've seen it all, as if you were watching. Even if you've tried to eradicate it.

"Sure. Yeah," Negan keeps his squat in front of Rick. "Give me his axe," ’Jesus. What's he gonna do with it now…?’ you wonder. Simon walks forward from his corner and hands it to Negan, who puts the axe in front of Rick and starts to get into an ironic stare-off, smiling and analyzing the man he has in front of him once again. After seeing there is no back down from Rick, his demeanour turns stern. Standing, he puts the axe in his belt with a deep sigh, then grabs Rick by the collar of his jacket and starts to drag him through to the RV. "I'll be right back. Maybe Rick will be with me. And if not, well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we?" He pushes Rick through the open door and adds: "I mean the ones that are left." He points at you and then points to the vehicle in a silent order. You jog following after him, closing the door behind, you can locate the axe pinned on the table before you sit in the copilot. Negan is already in the driving seat. He’s looking  straight ahead with determination. 

"Let's go for a ride." He tries to start the engine with no success. "Wow. What a piece of shit!" Then he sucks in with his tongue between his teeth and adds: "I'm gonna kill you..." with mockery, imitating Ricks' previous statement and chuckling at it. "Are you kidding me? Did you see what just happened? What I just did? You just..." he comments, sighing ironically. "Your best chance, is to stand up, grab that axe, and drive it to the back of my head," he states, without even turning around. You are not sure if it is due to cockiness or because he is sure Rick will not do it but you're still sitting with your legs halfway in Negan's direction in case you have to stand abruptly. "See how you do?" Now you see Negan looking through the rearview mirror. "Keep acting tough. Go ahead. Grab, the damn, axe.'' When Rick does exactly that, Negan stands up at the second, pointing an M4A1 SOPMOD previously left next to the driver seat while you point him with your Magnum Desert Eagle. You have not even bothered to get up and just turned in your seat. Negan makes a denial gesture with his head and chuckles.

"Drop it," He says in a tone that almost mimics the sigh, which causes a shiver of excitement in your body. ‘At what point have you started to like his dominant tone…? Damn girl, you're fucked up.’ Rick obeys,  the clink of the axe on the ground sounds around you. Then Negan uses the base of his weapon to hit Rick's belly, cutting off his breath. Sighing again, he sticks the axe back on the table in such way that it makes Rick reel back, even though you remain impassive. "Do not make me get up again." Concludes Negan dryly. When he turns back, you exchange glances. "Well, look at that. Dawn is breakin'." his eyes meet yours again, with a face you can not decipher, then turns back, his pearly smile doing the honors on his face once again. "It's a brand-new day, Rick," he announces with a chuckle and sits in front of the wheel, ready to go. "I want you to think about what could have happened, think about what happened, and think about what can still happen." Negan sighs as if tired of repeating himself, which is probably not a good thing for the dude on his knees. Then Negan starts the engine and the big machine finally moves. Silence falls upon you all for a few seconds and you take the chance to observe the person who has become Negan’s plaything, only to realise he is lost inside his mind. ‘Good, he's thinking, maybe this will end soon for all of us. This shit is taking too long if he just accepts that he has nothing left and that he lost… I hate this shit I wanna go home.' The day is brightening but the road is covered in a dense fog that won't let you see in an inch of distance without the lights. You hear a walker approaching just before the RV splashes its head in the front window. 

Negan laughs with malice "Oh! Boom!" jokes Negan before he keeps laughing. "That reminds you of anybody you know?" ’Oh boy...’ Another giggle comes along while bashing another walker’s head against the front of the vehicle. "Oh, yeah." The growling continues, you suppose it must be a herd attracted by all the noise that has been going on the past few hours. The brakes squeal and the engine shuts off, then Negan makes the keys jingle in his hand. Grunting, he walks to the back but you just stay and observe. Squatting on Rick’s side, he states: "You are mine. The people back there," Rick does not meet Negans' eyes as he speaks "they are mine. This," He shows Rick the axe "This is mine."

All the grunting noises coming from outside indicate a large amount of walkers approaching the RV. Negan stands up and walks to the door opening it and does something you would not expect. After killing one of the undead, looks at Rick whose eyes are on the carpet that covers the floor and with a naughty face, he throws the axe over the roof of the motorhome. "Hey, Rick, go get my axe. Let's be friends." Rick looks at him for a second, pissed off, not wanting to bow his will to Negan’s ways of humiliating people. Another walker tries to get inside, fighting for the taste of flesh. "Oh," Negan says with a chuckle, then bashes its head with Lucille. Negan sighs and angrily approaches Rick, threatening him with Lucille. "Get my axe." Moving away to leave some space for the guy to reach the door, you can see in the obvious expressions of his face that Rick is struggling to give up. But then Negan throws him out of the truck without giving him a thought and closes the door behind. You stay put, staring at Negan who's now looking back at you.

"I can't wait to get home," you whisper, looking away while you stand, more for yourself than anything else.

"Yeah. Well. I have a better idea after what I saw earlier," says Negan with a lusty whisper. You suppose he is referring to the fact that you saved his gorgeous face from a punch.

"You're welcome," you say, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. "It was nothing, really. But I was referring to going to take a nap. I'm so done..." you talk back in a playful tone while closing the distance between you. His features show he's not in the mood for pull-and-push.

"I was expecting to end what we started before. Maybe get that sweet a-" You give him a killshot glare to which he responds with a dark smile from his side.

"Language," you grill.

"Hey, didn’t mean to-" he responds quietly in contrast with his previous attitude but gets interrupted by Rick's footsteps on the roof of the RV. He looks up, forgetting about you and loud enough for Rick to hear, says: "Bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together, sittin' around the table at Sunday dinner and the happily ever after," pausing for dramatic effect. "No. Doesn't work like that, Rick. Not anymore. Think about what happened," then his eyes meet yours. "People died, Rick. It's what happened. Doesn't mean the rest of them have to. Get me my axe." There’s the lesson you mustn’t forget: he doesn’t feel like what he is doing is wrong. "Get me my axe!" repeats looking at the ceiling and then whispers to you: "So, sweetheart you are on my top list now. The way you stopped that guy, your fury..." he gets closer, expecting you to react but instead, you press your hand on his chest. He wastes no time grabbing it and kissing your wrist.

"Let's leave this for the privacy of Sanctuary, shall we?" you whisper in his ear. He puts his hand gently in your throat, catching your jaw and kisses you. You can hear in the background how the amount of walkers around the RV is increasing.

"I thought you were the guy, Rick. Maybe you're not!" speaks Negan but this time doesn't look away, his hand moves to the back of your hip. His voice louder and intense. "We'll give it one more go. Now, I really want you to try this time. Last chance," his face gets darker when he hears no movement from up, his hand leaves your hip to unlock the automatic weapon and his eyes look up before shouting: "Bring me, my axe!" then he moves quickly away from you and starts to fire it towards the ceiling, slightly away from where you could hear Ricks' footsteps. You note the thud of his run and the sound of a chain rattling. The two of you head to the back window to see him hanging, grasping like a koala onto an undead guy hanging off the bridge. Then the walkers start to pull him down by his feet when he slides a little from the moving body. You look at Negan, who only smiles at you. You gesture at him with a: 'Please, do something,' look, his only response is a chuckle and an eye roll as if he thinks you have no sense of humor. When your eyes make their way outside again, you both see how the head of the hanging corpse is separating from the body 'Jesus! That's awful!' you think, totally disgusted. Negan quickly opens the back window and starts to shoot at the walkers surrounding Rick. You move back to your seat, expecting this to be over soon.

"Clock is ticking, Rick!" Says Negan, closing the window with a knock of his hand against it, then adds, "Think about what can still happen!" You can hear Rick outside grunting, assuming he's fighting the walkers. Negan winks at you and you have to hold back the disgust you feel for his enjoyment. Negan presses the horn, to alarm Rick outside, you guess, or maybe the walkers. You can hear Rick bashing walkers on the other side of the door. One splashes against the RV, like a popped water balloon. He tries to enter but the door is locked and you can hear one more crashing against the bodywork. 

Negan calmly opens the door and shoots with his M4 clearing a little area for Rick to enter, then gets out of the way before Rick jumps in closing the door behind him, panting hard. Negan paces in the same spot, while Rick attempts to get the air back into his lungs. When he finally stands, the big boss looks him over, demanding the object with his hand. Rick reluctantly gives it to him with hate in his eyes and sits at the table with his head down. Negans' stare stays on the other man and even with his back to you, you know he is smiling. "Attaboy!" with that he sinks the axe into the table once more and walks to the wheel. You see from the corner of your eye how Rick follows him with his eyes, staring daggers at him. 'Man, you are not understanding shit, are you…?' you think. He is so focused that he seems to have forgotten your presence. Negan starts the engine and drives back to the meeting point.

"We're here, prick," states Negan, standing up and walking over to Rick, who at the same time keeps that killshot glare fixed on him. Negan notices and judging by the way he smiles, you know he's not having any of it. 'This guy has way too much testosterone or he’s just a fucking idiot. Oh lord… Just bow your head and accept you lost'. Negan starts to talk while checking on the cabinets. "This must be hard for you, right? I mean, you have been King Shit for so long. Losin' three of your own like," He snaps his fingers in front of Rick. “And yes, I'm taking the punching hellcat too.”

“Oh. Goody!" he exclaims when he finds a bottle of ethyl alcohol before opening it. Following the motion with a sigh, he leaves the cap on the table and leans on top of Rick before adding. "You were in charge." He unhooks the axe from the table, "Hell," he rubs it against Rick's jacket to remove the traces of clotted blood that cover it, making Rick wince. "you were probably addicted to it. And now," Negan starts throwing the liquid over the metal of the weapon to clean it. "well, clip, clip- that's over. But," he points out, as he takes a seat in front of Rick, "you can still lead a nice, productive life producing for me." Rick's eyes meet Negan's, not submitting and this time he passes Rick the axe by the handle. You can sense his smile again. "I think you're gonna need it. I just got a feelin'," Negan tells him before he sighs. You know that Rick is pushing his patience with the useless resistance he is showing. "So take it," he concludes, demanding. By his tone, you'd say Negan is borderline angry but you can't really tell if it's part of the game or if it's real. 'His mood swings… damn…' He stands and you follow his lead, only to see him throwing Rick out of the RV.

Negan grabs Rick by the nape again, to put him in front of his group as if he was a dog. You follow out of the RV and close the door behind you before reuniting with the rest of the crew.

"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you even know what that little trip was about?" inquires Negan without moving. You can now see the faces of Rick's group in detail and notice, that Daryl now has blood running down his shoulder, which pisses you off, awakening old feelings of protectiveness. "Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay. Okay," replies Rick breathing heavily.

"That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand..." explains Negan, adding a smile when Rick gives him the look, again. "But you're still looking at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work! I wanted you to understand. So," then he squats next to the man in question, playing with Lucille in his grip. "Do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah," replies Rick rapidly, still panting. "Yes. Yes."

"Okay." Negan taps on Rick's shoulder before adding: "All right!" standing again and rubbing his nose thoughtfully. "Here it is," bouncing he paces for a moment, "the grand prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day." He then gestures to the Saviours at the back. "Get some guns to the back of their heads." obedience takes only seconds. "Good. Good. Now level with their noses, so if you have to fire-" gesturing an explosion paired with sound effects in a very graphic way, adds: "it'll be a real mess." then chuckles. "Kid," he says, calling the youngest subjects attention, inviting him with a hooked finger, then pointing to the floor where he wants him to go. "Right here." Disobedient, the boy does not move and stays put looking back at him. "Kid. Now." Finally he moves.

"You a southpaw?" Negan asks him once he is where he ordered.

"Am I a what?" asks the kiddo, giving Negan a strange look.

"You a lefty?" Negan inquires, rephrasing his question as he would to a child.

"No." replies the boy, derogatorily. ‘This kid has a fucking nerve! Like father, like son...’

"Good," adds Negan, while tying his own belt on the left arm of the kid with Lucille held under his own. "That hurt?" he wonders then, with no genuine care in his tone.

"No." 

‘God, Negan will fool himself into thinking this kid would make a good Saviour. His face says it all...’.

"Should. It's supposed to," he replies with his characteristic grin. "All right. Get down on the ground, kid. Next to daddy. Spread them wings!" orders the man, throwing the boy’s hat away at his back. The kid obeys when Negan makes him go down to the floor and gives him a final push to make his belly touch the ground, with a grunt. "Simon, you got a pen?" 

"Yeah," Simon responds, unimpressed.

"Sorry, kid," apologizes the big boss as he takes off the lid from the marker pen, then groans when he squats next to the boy as if his knees hurt after so much bouncing. With the cap held between his teeth, he starts drawing something on the kid's arm and adds: "This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across the forearm." then takes the cap from his mouth and returns it to the pen before passing it back to Simon. "There you go. Give you a little average."

"Please don't. Please don't," begs Rick, eyes pleading with Negan.

"Me?" Negan chuckles dismissively. "I ain't doing shit." then stands, with Lucille back in his grip again. "Ahh...Rick, I want you to take your axe and cut your son's left arm off, right on that line."

‘What the fuck…’ 

"Now, I know- I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die," Rick begins hyperventilating. "then Carl dies, then the people back home die, and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"You-You don't have to do this. We understand. We understand." pleads a dreadlock-haired woman.

"You understand," emphasizes Negan. "Now. I'm not sure that Rick does," he remarks, before returning his attention to the man in question. "I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice." 

‘He’s got to be fucking joking… why am I even surprised at this point...’ you think. 

"Nothing messy, clean, 45 degrees- Give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine..." Then fakes to ponder on it for a second. "Probably." Squatting again directly in front of him he continues, "Rick this needs to happen now,  chop-chop, or I will crush the little fella's skull myself." he adds, aiming the baseball bat at the kids' head.

"It can-It can-It can be me. It can be me. W-W-" Rick stutters sniffing, completely discomposed. "Y-You can do it to me. I c-I can go with-with you."

"No. This is the only way..." Negan replies calmly. "Rick, pick up the axe." He orders as he stands again. A short silence is the response. "Not, making a decision, is a biiiig decision." Negan’s tone is starting to rise, meaning his patience is cracking. "You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing," Rick hyperventilates again. "Oh, my God. Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win. I am counting. Three!"

"Please…" Rick starts crying, "Please…" he gasps, "It can be me. Pleeease!" the crying intensifies, desperation evident in his words. "Please don’t…"

"Two!" Shouts Negan without compassion.

"Please, don't do-" "Rick continues pleading while sobbing. 

"This is it," replies Negan, after he squats to grab the crying man's face to make his point clear. "One!"

"Aaah!" Growls Rick desperately.

"Dad just do it." you can hear the kid whisper. “Just do it." 

‘What a pair of balls.’ 

Rick stays there struggling, breathing heavily and you start to think he might pass out. You have seen someone do so before, being under pressure, sometimes the body just collapses but instead, he keeps screaming, grabs the axe and points it to the sky, getting ready to do what he knows will change his kids' life. Negan squats next to Rick again, but his face is an image of winning and pride. Rick looks at him with the most pleading eyes you’ve ever seen. Broken.

"You answer to me. You provide for me." Rick nods obediently. All you can think is, 'This is what Sherry meant when she said he always gets what he wants, no matter what…' "You belong to me. Right?" growls Negan, while the man continues nodding, eagerly trying to get air back into his lungs. "Speak when you're spoken to!" shouts Negan grabbing Rick’s face violently "You answer to me! You provide for me!"

"Provide for you" replies Rick in a broken voice.

"You belong to me, right?!" remarks Negan, still shouting.

"Right," Rick answers.

"Right." Negan wins. ‘Negan always wins.' you think. 

"That. Is the look I wanted to see!" He exclaims, standing again. But things aren't over yet as he grabs the axe. "We did it, all of us, together. Even the dead on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure." sighing, he adds: "Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sakes, that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you, that," he interrupts himself, chuckling. "is over now. Ah..." he adds before doing something that puts you on high alert, pointing at Daryl with Lucille: "Dwight! Load him up.'' The man in question has to put some effort to pull him back to the back of the van before he points at Daryl with the crossbow. Then you look at Daryl for a last time, his eyes meet yours before they close the doors. 

Negan squats again, next to Rick. "He's got guts- Yeah, he does. Not a little bitch like someone I know," he remarks, mocking Rick. "I like him. He's mine now. But you still want to try something?-Not today, not tomorrow- Not today, not tomorrow-? I will cut pieces off of-" he looks confused for a second and directs his eyes to Simon. "Hell's his name?"

"Daryl," Simon answers solemnly.

"Wow." Negan chuckles. "That actually sounds right!" his eyes dart back to Rick. "I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep." smiling he decides to rephrase: "Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me." then he chuckles and pats Rick's shoulder before standing up. "Welcome to a brand-new beginning, you sorry shits!" he shouts, theatrically. "I'm gonna leave you a truck. Keep it. Use it to cart all the crap you're gonna find me." Then everybody starts to move, including Negan. You too in his direction. "We'll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then ta-ta!"

With that, he leaves behind his trail of destruction. In this case, it is more psychological than physical. 

You leave along with Negan, right behind him as you both get into the car. There and then the tiredness hits you. ‘Shit, I’m getting too comfortable… I was never this tired when alone.' But you put your seat back and close your eyes in what could be read as a trustful gesture towards Negan. You can feel his glare for a second but you just relaxe and let the darkness consume you. Then you are in a different place. 

It’s a cold night, too cold to be outside but your group has not found a shelter yet. After two days of walking around, trying to find food and medicines for Eric, the member who has been ill for a few days. Without that luck, it’s just getting worse. You have no other option than to light a fire for all of you to warm up. Laura and Alan, the blonde couple will keep the watch during the night so the rest of you can sleep. 

You wake up, startled by a scream, to find Eric has inexplicably become a walker. He had just a bad cold, no bite, no scratch. Now he's attacking your mum, who was sleeping right next to him to offer some aid during the night. 

He is ripping right into her throat by the time you all react to the horrible scene unfolding before you. Your first reaction is to put a bullet through his head. Running towards your mum, you can only watch as she chokes on her own blood. Tears start running down your cheeks and a hard lump forms in your throat, as you contain a scream of pain. Out of love and compassion, you show mercy by shooting her right in the middle of the forehead. 

You stand there, staring at her lifeless body with no light in her eyes, it's as if time has stopped, as if you were frozen, unable to move a muscle. She’s gone. Your mother is dead. 

The warm tears keep falling but you are numb, your thoughts collapsing, until you feel a hand pulling you before snapping back to reality. The screams and the gunshot have attracted more walkers to your camp. Some members of your group are already dead, their bodies scattered around you with chunks of them missing. Finally reacting, you run in the direction you are being pulled in. Your brother has your hand and you are both already breathless in your escape. 

After killing a few walkers on your way, you two get to a tree to rest for a few and that is when you notice it. Your hand is wet with red, blood, your brother's blood. You follow the trail up to his shoulder to see a bite. He is already losing too much blood, it probably nicked an artery. 

"John…" he hushes you. "John." You whisper this time. "You are bleeding..." you say. As if he hasn’t noticed yet, his eyes follow your gaze to his arm, under the light of the moon it seems to illuminate it.

"Shit!" he whispers. "Fuck!" you see a walker go the way you just came from. "You have to shoot me, Allie."

"What!? No!" He hushes you again. "No way…" you insist, adamant.

"I’m going to die, Alice." That shoots you like a bullet through the heart and you start to sob. "I don’t want to become one of those things… and I will only slow you down if we go together, for me to end up like them anyway. I don’t want to put you in danger.'

"Please don’t…" You can't stop crying. You feel weak and lonely all of a sudden. Unable to believe you are going to lose the only people you ever loved in your life on the same night. Your mum and your brother wiped out like dust in the wind. As if they were nothing. "I can’t do this alone… Please…"

"Allie, I love you and I want you to try to live. There has to be somewhere you can live a life, there has to be somewhere. I want you to find it. I want you to fight for it. I want you to live. Promise me you will live." You don’t say anything. "Promise me, Alice."

"I promise." You say and hug him, only to feel the accelerated beating of his heart, working very hard to keep the blood pumping through his body.

"You have to do it now," he mutters. You don’t know how much time has passed but you can see your brother looks paler. He tries to pick up the gun that is still in your hand but you pull your hand away. He looks at you, eyes pleading, but you can’t do it. Something stops you. Something selfish that wants to keep clinging onto your bond.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…" you whisper as you cry. He nods, understanding, and with a movement faster than you expect, he yanks the gun out of your hand and shoots himself in the temple.

You whimper and automatically cling to his body stopping it from falling. You cradle him, burying your head against his chest, letting the knot in your throat break in a pained cry.

You wake up with a whimper as someone's hand moves you. You panic for a second but then notice you're still in Negan's car and he’s been the one to shake you awake.

"Sorry, love. You seem to be going through hell there." You notice the warm sensation of tears falling through your cheeks. "Oh shit…" You rush to swipe at your skin unwilling to show your weakness.

"I’m fine" he looks at you, clearly not believing it but he doesn't press it as he returns his eyes to the road. Noticing you’re shaking, you put your seat straight and rub your hands feeling strangely numb. ‘If the nightmare is back, it has to mean something’. 

You are still restless when you get out of the car. Negan starts ordering you, the Saviours, to occupy your next hours resting since he's satisfied with the job you all did. You see Dwight taking Daryl out of the van, Negan gives him a nod, and then he walks to the door and disappears through it. You feel the urge to go behind them and make sure Daryl is fine but that would be a serious mistake, for the both of you. So masking your nervousness, you lead the way through the corridors. Feeling a big, warm hand take hold of your wrist, takes you by surprise and your first response is to snatch your hand away that is before you realize it’s Negan.

"What’s going on?" He wonders seriously.

"Sorry, I'm just really tired," you reply showing a toothy smile but Negan does not buy it.

"I wouldn’t like to have a misunderstanding here, so, for your own sake, tell me what’s going on." He asks politely, yet there's a threatening undertone to it.

"I just vividly dreamed about how my mum and brother died… I think I’m feeling a little bit out of my body right now. My apologies," you answer, deleting the smile from your face. You can’t believe the fact that Negan gets closer and kisses your forehead.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a few hours," he whispers. You nod appreciating the gesture, and with that you leave, walking slowly through the empty corridors. Once again in your room, you let your body fall on top of the bed and everything becomes pitch dark again. 

You wake up confused and alarmed for a second before realising where you are. It's night time and silence reigns at Sanctuary, as always. That's one good thing that came along with the disease. The silence. 'Some day nature will win it's place back.' you wish.

You get up from the bed thinking it could be a good chance to sneak out and get into the cells and see Daryl again, to know what kind of treatment he has been given. 

'Am I stupid to worry about him?' you wonder.  Looking through the room in the darkness, only the moonlight allows you to find the clothes you were wearing earlier. Still not showered, there is no point in changing the garments. 

Your steps lead you to the cells. The door isn't closed but you take a careful look at what's around you, in case there's someone on watch. There's an annoying song playing on repeat but you don't dare touch the music player. Surprisingly, there is no one looking after the prisoners. Taking the chance to look at which doors are locked before you find out only one of them is. Then you find yourself entering the guardian's room, looking for the set of keys. 

Opening the door you see a plastic plate on the floor with some sort of sandwich and Daryl covering his eyes from the light in the corridor, in one corner of the room. Your eyes fall over his dirty clothes and hair, thinking how the man has definitely seen better days. Then you realise he's looking at you. 

"Are you okay?" you ask, feeling stupid. He's obviously not but it's more like an opener of conversation. You begin to squat in front of him and reach out to touch his shoulder, only for him to avoid it. 

"I mean no harm…"

"Why are you with them?" he inquires, fierce eyes meeting yours.

"Seems things have taken a twist, uh?" you reply bitterly, unable to hold your tongue without that judgement.  "Now I'm the one with the bad guys and you're with the good ones. Who would have said that ten years ago, when your brother screwed everything up and you… still chose him," you grill him sarcastically, he lowers his head just slightly while still analyzing your face. 'Are you sorry or you are still your brother's puppy dog?'

"It was-" he tries to speak but you interrupt him.

"I was alone. I had no option. Also… I thought it could be a better chance of survival," his eyes still hard on you soften a little, just slightly enough for you to notice. "Don't lecture me, from what I've heard you killed dozens of Saviours for no apparent reason…"

"If you think they are good people you're delusional," he comments. You chuckle. It seems that some of Negan’s traits might be running off on you.

"Call me whatever you like Daryl… I've always done right by my conscience, I'm not going against it now." You whisper the last word. "I'll also remind you what I said that day; 'I forgive you'. No matter how bitter I am about it." you whisper that close to his ear, waiting for him to lash out at you but only surprise alters his features. He says nothing. When you move to stand, you find something calling your attention in the corner of your eye. Dwight's shocked look from the other side of the door with a sandwich in his right hand.

You calmly close the door and walk his way handing him the set of keys, with a dangerous smile, warning him to keep it a secret. If he were to drag you down, he would fall too and you both know it. Instead, he just nods and you keep walking while deciding it might be a good idea to have a shower and some food. 

In a hurry, you walk to pick up your stuff and rush to the showers, in case you are needed for anything. Afterwards with your hair still damp you sit on the couch of your room, opening a can of sardines, and cutting some bread to fill your stomach, even though it's still quite nauseous from the previous events. 'He's there, eating shit and I'm here eating like a monarchy these days. If I was lucky I wouldn't even know he's still alive…'

You are almost done when you hear a recognisable knock. 

"Come in," you call.

"Hello, darling," says Negan, swinging the door open slowly and entering with his hand still on it. His eyes meet yours with darkness.

Taglist @stxrg4zer @indigosparkle444 @paintlavillered

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

Negan cleared his throat and you glanced over at him, still on edge from unexpectedly coming on a group of walkers suddenly in the thick brush. “I have a weird… kind of personal question,” he said.

Your eyebrows lifted and you frowned. “Well, that’s not promising…” you retorted, drawing a low laugh from him. “What is it? We both know you’re going to ask anyway.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be… I don’t know—maybe your birthday today would it?” he said.

You stopped dead and stared at him intensely for a long moment. “How did you know that?”

He smiled, clearly very pleased with himself. “I may have done a little sniffing around,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands slipped into his pockets.

“You mean eavesdropping?” you countered, but you couldn’t help smiling a little at his interest in you.

“It was mostly accidental,” he argued. “But it did factor into me volunteering to go on this patrol today.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, crossing your arms and surveying him. “Who celebrates birthdays anymore anyway?” you countered.

Negan shrugged and then slowly withdrew a fine chain from his pocket. There was a small stone hanging on the end; shining in your favorite color. “I do. If it’s yours,” he said.

You were so stunned you didn’t even know what to say for a long moment, but you finally held your palm out and Negan dropped the necklace into your hand. You looked at the delicate silver of the chain and the understated but beautiful stone. “A little impractical these days isn’t it?” you asked, still trying to catch your breath, your heart whirring. But you were nearly overcome at the gesture…

Negan shrugged again. “Maybe. Took me a while to hunt something down… But this? I think it fuckin’ suits you. Happy birthday, doll.”

Prompt: “I have a weird kind of personal question.” / “That’s not promising.” A/N: It is my birthday today, so I selfishly wrote this fluff for our Wicked Wednesday Negan feature. He can definitely be soft and sweet! Not so wicked this week.