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Breaking Point

Chapter Text

The sun beats down on your back. You sigh wishing this whole job was over. You only volunteered yourself to be the "bait" because of how badly your group needs ammo. There is only one bullet between you and it isn't loaded in your gun.

All you have was your boot knife, a throwing knife harness strapped to your stomach hidden by your low-cut flowy top, and an empty handgun in a shoulder harness. There were two police riot sticks by the bag next to the front tire but you were hoping you wouldn't be needing them.

Two weeks ago your group had moved into the area and almost immediately noticed a convoy of trucks making regular runs. Usually three trucks every few days would travel down the road together in the morning and gradually throughout the afternoon would return one by one. The trucks were heavily armed.

That was the goal of the mission. To get ammo and get the hell out. Everyone back at camp was wrapping up so we could move out before the people you were robbing could retaliate. The first truck to return home around noon was always the lightest guarded. And that was the target.

You balanced on the bumper of the picked over Ford F150 with the hood up chewing your lip looking over the engine to see if there was anything left to scavenge. Shifting the too small bra and sighing you looked into the sky to try and judge the time. Laura had done your hair, applied some makeup and lent you the pushup bra to complete the "bait" look. Unfortunately Laura's boobs were smaller than yours so the pushup bra was digging into your ribs and doing disturbing things to your cleavage. You felt like a cheap 10 cent whore... The men had thought otherwise. You knew you were gonna have to threaten the life of someone tonight to keep them off of you. You had no interest in going down that road. Which is why it was so ironic that you were the one here, perched on a truck, preparing to distract a man with your flirting.

The walkie you had went off... "OK. Their headed your way. Good Luck."

"Thanks Asshole. Let's get this shit show over with. Just make sure you guys get here before I get raped."

You turn off the walkie and drop it into the bag on the ground. Standing up on the bumper, rearranging your boobs and bending over the engine making sure to keep your legs straight, slightly spread and your ass high in the air... If that doesn't make them stop you don't know what will.

"Come and get it assholes" you murmur as you hear the truck slow to a stop next to you.

A door slams and you look up with a smile on your face, dark hair blowing into your eyes.

"Well fuck Darling, are you in need of some help?"

He's tall, attractive, scruffy beard, leather jacket over broad shoulders and a devil may care grin on his face. You notice the driver getting out too, smaller and fatter than his leering friend. "Stay the fuck back Fat Joe we don't want to scare the lady." The first man says winking at you. Fat Joe leans onto the side of the truck, arms crossed over chest looking contrite.

You perch yourself back onto the front of the truck and tucking hair behind your ear. Biting your lip you look down. "I'm just looking for something to scavenge. you never know when there might be an opportunity to trade."

You glance at the man, seeing his big Cheshire grin as his eyes linger over your body. Peering into the ravaged engine. "Well hell Darling, do you even know what the fuck you're looking at in here."

Internally rolling your eyes. He is staring intently at your face, biting your lip. "Ummm, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. But I'll tell you what, doll, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." he winks at you.

You feel a slight blush come to your cheeks. "Tess"

"Tess, well THAT is a beautiful name... Tell me something Tess, are you traveling alone out here?"

You laugh, wondering where the hell your backup is... "Why, are you offering to be my knight in shining armor?" you ask playfully.

He laughs darkly and says. "Now Darling, I'm not much of the knight in shining armor type."

Slowly looking up and down his impressive frame. "Well lucky for you, I'm not much of a damsel in distress."

He seems intrigued moving closer like a cat stalking its prey "We have a place, Fat Joey and I, a community. With men, women and children. A place you can feel safe to lay your pretty little head. I think you would like it there. I know I would fucking like you to be there." The charming smile spreading on his face. He's moving closer to you as he talks. Trying to hypnotize you with his words. You feel like a rabbit about to be caught in a snare. He's getting too close and you see the butt of a gun sticking out of the waist band of his pants.

A motorcycle approaches and you feel a sigh of relief escape you. Thank Christ, your backup is here. The man turns to watch the bike approach, leaning casually against the front of the truck arm brushed up against your thigh. Pitt is getting off his bike removing his helmet. The man glances at you skeptically. "Who's this? Your Boyfriend?"

You laugh at the dour expression on his face. Leaning in so he can get a good look at your cleavage you purr... "Jealous?"

He grins, eyeing the goods, completely ignoring the new arrival "Maybe a little."

His look turns to mild surprise as you both hear Pitt shout "Hands up" Pulling a handgun and pointing it directly in Fat Joey's face. Quickly reaching down to grab the handgun out of your new friends pants while holding your empty gun to his temple. "Sorry baby" your whisper in his ear. "Your community sounds nice but I'm not the one calling the shots here." You hear two more bikes approaching from the opposite way. Glad to have the numbers in your favor. Especially since you know your group doesn't have the bullets to follow through on your threats.

"You're going to regret this decision, doll."

Arching your eyebrow you whisper playfully "You can punish me later?"

He laughs darkly shaking his head as you prod him over to stand next to Fat Joe.

You hand the man's gun to Cam and he sticks it into his pants while holding his gun up in your new friends face. "It's about time you guys got here." Pitt says to Cam and Chris.

Cam looks you over and grins. "We thought Tess should sweat it out for a minute. It looks like she had it under control."

"Alright search them." Pitt demands. He has his gun so far in Fat Joe's face he's practically eating the barrel.

You and Chris move in to search the men for weapons. Chris checks over Fat Joe quickly then moves to search the truck and you focus on the man in the leather jacket. First you kneel at his feet and pull a knife from his boot. You snake your hands up his legs glancing up to see he is watching your every move completely unconcerned with Cam's gun in his face. "Enjoying the show?" you ask sarcastically.

"Fuck yes I am," he says. His eyes making you feel even more uncomfortable in your ridiculous clothes. You reach your hands into his front pockets removing a clip and you hear the man give a deep suggestive laugh. "Slow down darling, we should try to enjoy this." causing you to blush.

Reaching around to the back you can't help longing go through you when you find an absolutely gigantic hunting knife. You bite your lip as you quickly undo his belt to get the sheath with the knife off of him. "Oh my God! Look at the size of this thing!" you moan. You slide it into the waist band of your pants unintentionally supporting yourself on his broad chest.

"Darling you can search me any fucking day of the week." the man says. Snapping you out of the euphoria of discovering his knife. There's a dark look of longing on his face. You swallow uncomfortably looking away.

Cam clears his throat. "Don't let her routine fool you man. Her legs are locked at the knees." You glare at Cam. "Ever since she lost her husband and kid. In fact, I think his is the only dick she ever fucked."

You feel your blood go to ice as you glare at Cam. "What the fuck did you just say?" Your hand is still on the man's chest but your whole demeanor has changed. Everyone senses the shift immediately.

"Tess, there's Walkers coming out of the woods. Deal with it." Pitt commands.

You stalk away grabbing a riot stick, blood boiling. The first one is lumbering up, mouth agape and you take one swing making its head explode like an overripe melon. You crouch low swinging the legs out from the second one before bringing the stick solidly down on its head. Reaching for a throwing knife you dispatch the third walker with a knife throw straight through its eye while it's still six steps away.

Rage is pounding through you, this is where you feel most comfortable. Killing the things that have taken everything.

The final walker is lumbering toward you. This one looks fresher than the others with long stringy hair falling into her face. You grab the large hunting knife, grab the walker by her hair and shove the knife up through the bottom of her jaw into her head. Turning to see the man in the leather coat starring at your bloody work with thoughtful look on his face.

Rage goes through you as you regard Cam. You grab the last walker by her filthy hair and yank her head up bringing the huge knife down to saw her throat detaching her head. Carrying it, you saunter up to the group, throwing it. The head rolls to a stop at Cam's feet. He glances at you questioning. "If you're looking for a wet hole to fuck tonight she's still fresh, and if you ever talk about my family again I will gut you like a fucking fish." You take a menacing step closer to Cam with the hunting knife raised but Chris breaks your attention.

"Ummm Guys?" He sounds concerned.... "Remember Dev told us about a group around here that is run by a manic, who has a bat wrapped in barbed wire?"

"Yeah" Pitt responds looking bored and annoyed. You and Cam look over to Chris who is hanging partially out of the cab.

"Ummmm, I think we might have fucked up" he says holding up a bat wrapped in barbed wire.

You barely have time to register what just happened when bullets ring out and Cam and Pit fall to the ground screaming.

"Oh fuck" you drop and roll on the ground to try and take cover behind the truck. The man in the leather coat is doubled up laughing. His hand has a shell shocked Chris by the collar and 6 men come out of the woods surrounding your group. He looks right at you with a twinkle in his eye... "Don't fucking start something you can't fucking finish."

Chapter Text

fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck.

Your mind is completely blank besides the never ending stream of fucks running through it.

Your little group is lined up in front of him on your knees. Cam and Pitt are on either side of you both bleeding from gunshot wounds to their legs. The man in the leather coat is looking over your group with a wide smile on his face. The bat flung casually over his shoulder.

The fucking maniac who runs this area.

The fucking maniac you were just flirting with.

The fucking maniac who is probably going to rape you later.


He is calmly strolling back and forth in front of your group whistling. Laughing to himself. Probably laughing at the four of you pissing yourselves on the ground at his feet.

"Hi, as some of you fucking assholes may have guessed I'm Negan, I'm the, what did you call me?" Poking Chris in the chest with the bat.  "I'm the maniac who runs this fucking area and this here is Lucille.  And she is awesome..." He swings her violently down displaying her proudly. Barbed wire gleaming over the wooden surface.  "Well you fucknuts really fucked up this time didn't you. You thought you would rob one of my trucks? One of mine... You thought you would rob one of MY FUCKING TRUCKS with ONE FUCKING BULLET!" He laughs. Pacing back in forth in front of the group. His boots making a dull thud on the asphalt with each step echoing the blood pounding in your ears.  

You cringe. Fuck. How fucking stupid were you to think this would work. And how the fuck does he know you only had one bullet. Fuck Fuck Fuck. 

"You see, no one comes in or out of this area without us knowing about it. I run a Tight. Fucking. Ship. So while you fucking idiots were spying on me, my fucking friend Red here was spying on all of you. And Red, he told me some interesting fucking news the other day. Do you know what he fucking told me?"

He swings his bat down directly in front of Pitt's face who flinches causing Negan to grin ear to ear. "Cat got your tongue?" Pitt shakes his head.

"What was that? I can't quiet hear you." dropping down to one knee in front of Pitt, cupping his hand to his ear. "Say it again, do you know what Red fucking told me?"

"Nnnnnn No" Pitt stammers out.

"Wrong fucking answer" Negan crows bringing his bat down on Pitt's injured leg causing him to cry out in pain, passing out on the asphalt in front of you.

 "Nope, get him up. He isn't gonna want to miss any of this shit." Negan declares. A man brings smelling salts to his nose, retching Pitt wakes up before being roughly pulled into line.

Negan begins pacing in front of us again. "As I was saying... Do you know what Red told me?" The bat swings down in front of Chris, who looks up at him in horror. "Well don't keep me waiting all day princess."

Chris pales. "He told you we were going to rob a truck?"

"Ding ding ding, we have a fucking winner!" Negan declares. Chris flinches away from his jubilation. "Red told me you fucknuts were planning on robbing one of MY fucking trucks! And that's the type of shit that I shut down. Do you know why?"

The bat is pointed directly into your face. You swallow and look up into Negan's smiling face. A smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"BbbBecause you run a tight fucking ship?" Your whole body is shaking.

"Exactly Fucking Right Darling! Because I run a Tight. Fucking. Ship.... So now I'm at a crossroad. What am I to do? I could kill you all. Then I never have to worry about you fuckheads trying to rip me off again. OR I could offer you a place in my community since you were just camped out in the damn woods like a bunch of fucking armatures. You'll work for points, earn a living and shit, I get more workers. Win fucking win..... So early this morning me and my men we headed out like normal. And we went to your fucking camp. And BOY were they fucking surprised to see us. Like deer in fucking headlights. We rounded them up, and we gave them the option... Do you know what they chose to do?" Bat in Cam's face.

"ttttTo join you?" Cam stammers.

"Well look at the fucking boy wonder here... They agreed to join me. But I still had to round you assholes up and God Damn. What an eye opening experience that was." His boots stop in front of you and you see his wide grin as he stares down at you and your cleavage that is prominently displayed.


"So. Here's what's gonna happen. All of your stuff is my stuff now. You're gonna get on the fucking trucks,  you're gonna learn the fucking rules, and you're gonna earn your fucking keep. Got it?"

You all just sit there starring at the ground.

"I said, do you FUCKING GOT IT?"

"Yes" you all mumble. 


Negan starts to walk away.  You feel your body relax.

"OH. But one of you has to pay the price..."

Your blood turns to ice as he pounces. Beating the ever loving fuck out of Chris. His head is a bloody pulp by the time he is done and your kneeling on the ground starring in horror and where your friends head used to be. Warm blood is splattered across you face and chest. Your whole body is numb with shock as you stare at what used to be Chris in a daze. Cam has vomit down his shirt and Pitt is softly weeping.

"All right let's get these fuckers moving! Load them up. We have places to be, I have wives to fuck!". Two trucks come out of the woods and the men spring into action.  

Hands grab you from behind pulling you to your feet. They roughly remove your boot knife and shoulder holster shoving them into your bag with the riot sticks. You feel the hands moving your shirt up when Negan stops them. "I think I have it from here D. Why don't you help get the other two into the truck."

Glancing up at Negan you see him starring at your exposed blood splattered tits. He walks behind you and wraps his arm across your front to grab a hold of the hunting knife sticking out of your waist band. Whispering in your ear while slowly pulling it out, "You won't be needing this anymore will you, darling..."

He laughs darkly in your ear, hands at your waste sliding under your shirt to remove the knife harness. Your eyes are shut feeling his body pressed up behind you knowing that he is totally in control, you are completely at his mercy. He opens his palm on your bare stomach and his thumb brushes the band of the too tight bra your wearing. Trying to take a step back away from his hand involuntarily pressing yourself into him.

"You wanna ride up front with me?" he murmurs into your ear. Laughing, walking around to face you. "I have the perfect fucking seat right here..." gesturing to his lap, perfect white teeth gleaming at you.

"No, I'd rather ride in the back." Eyes down hoping he doesn't press the issue.

"Your loss" he laughs smacking you on the ass and startling you forward toward the truck where Cam and Pitt were loaded.

You are roughly shoved into the back of the truck by Negan's men. You stumble and take a seat next to your friends. Keeping your head down, avoiding all eye contact with the men filing in and taking their seats. You notice no one from your camp is in the truck and hope they all made it to wherever your new home is. Wondering if someone had to pay the ultimate price like Chris.          

Chapter Text

The ride to your new home is uneventful. Negan's men didn't talk much and you, Cam and Pitt avoid eye contact. They are bleeding profusely and you're worried that they won't make it. When the truck finally comes to a halt, the men start exiting and you know you've reached your final destination.

Squinting your eyes in the bright light, tripping getting out of the truck. Someone helps you to your feet but you don't know who before a different set of hands is pushing you toward what looks to be a large factory building.

"Hey, will I get my bag back?"

"Keep moving." is the gruff reply.

The man pulls on a big metal door and it swings open, shoving you to a guard. "Nick, take Tess up to her assigned room. Simon will talk to her there."

"Sure thing." He leads you into a dark hall, hand wrapped around your bicep to make sure you don't run off.

"Hey, do you know where my friends are? Did they make it? Are they here?"

Nick glances at you with a reserved look on his face. "I just got to my post, I'm sure Simon will be able to fill you in."

He takes you through multiple turns and halls that you try to memorize so you can get back out. Right, left, right, right, left, stairs, left, stairs right but you quickly loose track and your heart rate goes up feeling like a rat in a trap. The walls are claustrophobic. Fluorescent lights buzzing in the ceiling giving off a yellowish tint to the walls. Finally he stops in front of a door on the forth floor. Swinging the door open he nudges you inside. "Simon should be here in awhile." With that the door shuts in your face and you hear a lock slide into place.

Panic grips you as you realize you have just been locked in a room with no bag, no weapons, no food, no water, no clean clothes. Nothing. Hell, even if you got out of the room you wouldn't know how to get outside again.

The room is small but clean. There is a small bed pushed against the wall with a nightstand and lamp. The lamp is the only light in the room. There is a small table with two wooden chairs. The bed has only a pillow and sheet set but considering you have been sleeping on the ground in a tent for months you are overjoyed.

Your clothes are filthy, covered in dirt and blood. The fucking bra is digging into your ribs and you want to take it off and burn it but you have nothing else to put on. If they had given you your fucking bag you could at least put on a new bra and top so you weren't so exposed. The only good news was you are so covered in blood and gore no one could possibly want to rape you. Right? You sit on a chair as to not fuck up the bed and wait for Simon to show up.


Finally, after what feels like hours, you hear the lock to your door being opened and a man walks in. Medium build, brown hair, mustache. You size him up in case he does actually try to attack you. Banking on him underestimating you because of your small size, you plan on a quick strike to the throat if he tries any funny business.

He sits in the other chair and looks you over, eyes lingering on your tits that are trying to make a break for it out of your top. You make a mental note to murder Laura when you see her.

When his eyes finally meets yours he gives you a slight smile. "I'm Simon." Holding out his hand.

"Tess" you shake his hand quickly letting go.

"I have some questions for you, Tess." He is glancing at a note pad.

"I actually have some questions too." cutting him off. "Where are my friends? Where is my bag with my clothes & weapons? Why am I locked in here!"

"Tess... Tess. Shhhhhhh. Calm down. No one here is going to hurt you. Your friends from camp are here and already assigned to rooms, The two you came in with are in the medical ward, Negan is going through the bags and you should have your bag, with your clothes soon. (slight smirk and glace at your tits causing you to blush.) The lock on the door is a cautionary measure to keep you in one place until you can be fully processed. We can't have you running around not knowing the rules can we?"

His demeanor seems friendly enough but you can tell there is an edge to it. You don't like the way he keeps glancing at your tits like he is enjoying a private joke. And you definitely don't like that Negan is going through your things before you get your bag back.

"What are the rules?"

He smiles at you. "Let's answer some of my questions first and then we will talk about the rules. First, What type of jobs did you have before the epidemic started?"

"I worked as a waitress, worked prep in the kitchen, worked retail, worked at a hardware store."

"A hardware store?"

"I ran the cash register, stocked shelves, I would help the guys out back when they were backed up."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "You... worked as a mechanic?"

Crossing you arms over your chest, "Occasionally. I know my way around a toolbox."

He smirked. "Where you really working on engines or where you helping the workers out with their tools?"

You glared at him smirking at you. "Next question."

"What was your role with the group you were brought in with?"

"Scavenging, killing walkers, hunting and trapping. Surviving."

"And why would they let someone like you do all of that? There were plenty of men in your group. Why put you in danger... Why not have you tend to the fire, wash clothes... domestic shit."

"What do you mean domestic shit? Because I'm a woman? Fuck off asshole. Just because I have a vagina doesn't mean I can't contribute." You knew most of the other women in your group took care of the more domestic chores around camp, but since you lost everything you did whatever you could to be away from camp in the woods. Both awaiting and fearing your ultimate death.

"They had you on the road as fucking bait. Why would they risk you like that? What if Negan wasn't the one who found you. There are groups out there that would have hauled your ass off into the woods to rape you and leave you for dead." Simon said in a bored tone.

"I'm expendable. My husband died. If it went sideways no one would miss me." Your face burned and you glanced at Simon who was jotting down notes seemly uninspired with your revelation.

"There are a lot of safer jobs here. Cooking, cleaning, gardening, childcare, any idea what you might prefer. I can put in a recommendation. You may get switched around to a few locations before you're settled in a job."

You could care less what you did. Surviving was surviving. "Just... nothing with children...." you mumbled.

Simon glances at you, shrugging, "OK, no children."

"So will you tell me the rules now?"

"The rules are pretty easy. Negan is in charge. He owns everyone who lives here. When you see him, you kneel. Do your job. Don't fuck up. Don't question him. Ever. You take what you earn so don't fall behind on points. There is no rape here. Anyone caught raping is punished. You are not allowed to leave the compound unless Negan approves it. No one goes out savaging unless they have their own vehicle or borrow one from someone."

"How do I earn points?"

"By doing your job. You'll get a small pass tonight. Someone will bring up some food for you. Probably when they bring your bag. You can take a shower while you wait. There is basic soap and shampoo. You can buy fancier shit with your points when you earn them. You'll have a basic skills test tomorrow morning. It will help us assess where to place you."


Simon gets up from the chair, leading you into the hall. Three doors down and across the hall is a locker room. No one is inside. He leads you to the lockers and shows you one with your room number on it. "You can put your clothes and shit in here while you shower." He shows you where the towels are. "You can make it back to your room from here right?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"OK. See you tomorrow for your assessment."

Simon leaves the room whistling without giving you a second glance. You breathe a sigh of relief. The prospect of getting a true shower after who knows how long is absolutely mind blowing. You quickly strip off your clothes and Laura's demon bra, stuffing them in the locker. You take the towel and enter the showers and practically pass out when you realize that there are not only showers, but hot water!


It's the only word to describe how you feel after lathering up and washing off weeks of dirt, blood and grime. You're disappointed to not have clean clothes to put on but there is nothing stopping you from taking a second shower once your clothes show up. Maybe this wasn't the worst thing to happen after all. You swing the locker open, reach inside... nothing.


Panic goes through you. Where the fuck are your fucking clothes! FUCK. You check the other lockers. Everything is empty. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. You glance at your towel, shutting your eyes, head bent against a locker in dread, it's your only option to get back into your room.

Chapter Text

Glancing both way in the hall you see it's clear so you quickly scurry down the hall to your room. Opening the door and slamming it behind you give a sigh of relief to be in the dark room. Which is odd because you thought you left the lamp on. You reach over, clicking on the lamp, blinking in the sudden light and nearly jumping out of your skin.

Negan is sitting at one of the chairs smirking at you.

You look down at your towel silently willing the floor to open up and swallow you whole. Keeping your voice calm and even. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Now is that any way to thank me? I brought you dinner, and some clothes I found in your bag. " He motions toward the bed and you feel your heart stop.

Laying on the bed is a black nighty you would wear for your husband on the rare nights someone else would watch your kid in their tent.

He. Can't. Be. Serious.

"Is this a fucking joke, Negan? Where are my fucking clothes? Give them back!"

"Now Darling, I believe this is some shit you fucking started. I distinctly remember you asking me if I was going to punish you later... So if you want your clothes back, your gonna have to earn your fucking clothes back." A huge Cheshire cat grin spreads across his face. Looking like he is having the time of his life.

"I thought rape wasn't allowed." you challenged.

"Doll Face, I'm not talking about raping you. I'm talking about you earning your fucking clothes back. I'm nothing if not a perfect fucking gentlemen. So. If you want your clothes back, convince me. But Darling, you aren't getting your bag back unless I give it to you. And unless you start begging asap, you're going to be doing your assessment tomorrow wearing nothing but that nighty."

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. The sick bastard wants a show. He wants you to beg and he wants you to do it in a scrap of clothing. You walk over to the bed and stare at the barely there material clenching your jaw. You notice a pair of panties and heals that definitely didn't come from your bag. "What the fuck are these?" motioning toward the items.

"I thought you might want to cover up..." huge smile... "Because that's the kind of guy I am. I didn't want you to feel fucking uncomfortable, but after that top you had on today I didn't think you would mind your body being on display."

What a fucking asshole. "Can you turn around while I put this shit on?"

"I could.... but I won't."


Your starting to get pissed. This situation is bullshit. 

Fuck. Him.

You were doing a job in the woods, it wasn't personal. You're not gonna let him intimidate you. "Fine" looking him directly in the eyes. Let's see if he can keep his mind on the game.

You drop the towel keeping eye contact to see his reaction. A slow smile creeps up his face. you grab the lace thong and bend over slowly pulling it up. You pull the nighty over yourself making sure to stretch yourself to give him an eyeful. The fabric is mostly see through. There is some lace detailing around your tits and hem but not enough to cover anything substantial. You bend down ass toward him as you put on each strappy heel slowing standing and turning toward him when you finished. "Take your coat off and stay awhile, Negan."

"Now this is more fucking like it" he says as he casually removes his leather jacket and places it on the other chair with Lucille.

You slowly walk over to him, swaying your hips and move to the back of his chair trailing your finger along his shoulder. He shudders. You begin kneading his shoulders and back slowly. "Does that feel good Baby" you coo in his ear.

"Darling, you're still up shits creek but your moving in the right direction."

"Am I?" you inquire shifting so you are leaning over him rubbing his chest too. You bring your face to his neck inhaling him in and giving a little moan. He tries to reach for you playfully swat his hand away. "No touching, Negan...”

"Doll face come here. I want to be able to see you while you beg."

You move around to his front and straddle his lap. "Better Baby." you purr. You can see the surprise and lust on his face, his eyes are dilated and he brings his hands down on your hips locking you to him. You lean in and start kissing his neck and jaw line. He's kissing your shoulder, running his tongue along your collar bone, your skin breaks out in goosebumps. "Negan," you breath in his ear.  "You're a dangerous man."

"Whys that" he asks huskily pulling the straps down on your nighty while kissing you neck.

"Because you're smoking have all the power... you feel fucking fantastic between my thighs... " you purr into his neck while rotating your hips on what feels to be an impressive hard on, "and you aren't even inside me yet." You nip his ear and moan at the same time.

"Fuck" he groans standing up out of the chair gripping your legs around his back, he starts kissing you, forcing his tongue into your mouth, carrying you to the bed and laying down on top of you. His hands have finally gotten your top down and now he starts running his big calloused hand up your thigh, moving the nighty up and griping your panties while kissing your tits. swirling his tongue around your nipples giving teasing bites.

"Please" you beg gripping him harder with your thighs. Egging him on. "Please Negan" you moan. He slides his fingers along the top of the panties and you arch into him moaning.   

"Tell me what you want Darling and I'll give it to you." he groans moving up to kiss your throat griping your hips as you writhe underneath him.  

"I want...." you moan... "I want..." grabbing him by the hair you force his face up until he is looking directly into your eyes, "I want.... my fucking bag back." A grin crosses your face at the surprised look on his.

"What the fuck did you say?" He looks like someone just dumped cold water over his head.

You look him dead in the eye. "I want my mother fucking bag back, Negan."

He sits up shaking his head hand rubbing the back of his neck. His face is flush with desire. "Well shit, Darling."

Rearranging the top of your nighty to marginally cover your tits back up you sit up. He's still kneeling between your thighs and you run one finger down his chest toward the button on his pants not breaking eye contact. "You asked me to put this ridiculous crap on, you asked for a show, you asked me to beg... I did all that. I've learned my place. You're the boss, Negan. Now give me my fucking clothes... Please."

He laughs darkly getting off the bed and walking over to the chair, picking up his leather jacket and sliding it back on. You feel an icicle of dread going down your spine. He doesn't seem mad. He seems amused, and that can't end well.

"Alright Doll Face, you can have your bag back, and your clothes too." He opens the door swinging Lucille up onto his shoulder, and you see Nick standing outside holding your bag and boots. Nick glances in and quickly looks away when he sees you on the bed looking like a 10 cent whore. "What the fuck is wrong with you, give the lady her shit back." Negan growls.

Nick quickly walks in the room, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here, depositing your bag and boots on the now empty chair before turning to leave. You jump up and grab your bag opening it as Negan walks out of the room whistling.

Fuck.... Where are your fucking weapons.

"Negan!" you yell opening your door stepping into the hall. He is only a few steps away and you see Nick glance back before walking as quickly away as he can without running. "Where the FUCK are my weapons!"

Negan turns, huge grin plastered on his face. He slowly walks back up to your door towering over you. He grabs your chin forcing your head back until you're looking up into his face. You can see the desire in his eyes and you realize that you are standing in the hall in nothing but a skimpy nighty and heels.

"Darling, you may think you won something with that cock tease you just pulled in your room, but I still hold all the cards, you haven't fucking learned that yet. You want to play games? I can play games too. If you want your weapons back, and I fucking know that you do, you're gonna have to appeal to my better nature... Because until you do, your weapons belong to me, you belong to me, your fucking life belongs to me." He runs his thumb across you bottom lip while he talks and before he turns to leave he gently kisses your forehead. "Sweet dreams Sunshine you have assessment tomorrow."                



You go back to your room shutting the door and leaning against it sighing. What the ever loving fuck have you gotten yourself into. You notice the food on the table and quickly walk over to eat. There is a bottle of water, an apple and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You down the sandwich and half the water. Leaving the rest for later. You never know when you next meal might come.

Your exhausted after everything that happened today. Stripping your clothes you pull on a black sports bra and boy shorts before falling into bed and immediately passing out. Worrying about getting your weapons back from Negan would be a task for tomorrow. After Assessment, whatever the hell that was.     


Chapter Text


You jolt awake. No idea what time it is, no idea what is causing the noise, franticly searching for a weapon. The door opens and your blinded by the light flooding in from the hall.

"It's time for assessment, get up, you don't want to be late."

Yesterday comes crashing back in. Getting caught by Negan, Chris's head getting bashed in, being forced to beg for your clothes. Your face burns as you remember what you did to earn them.

Launching out of bed grabbing pants and pulling them on. The doors opens again as your stuffing your feet into boots and you see it's Nick at your door, looking grumpy and uncomfortable. "Sorry I'm almost ready" you apologize standing up and grabbing a black t-shirt to pull on over your bra" Realizing this is the second time in a few hours Nick has seen you half dressed you blush.

"If you want breakfast we need to go now." he says looking anywhere but at you with a scowl on his face.

You head out the door looking at him biting your lip. "Sorry I didn't realize... I would have worn.... more..." you end awkwardly gesturing to your clothes... "Fuck, why is this so uncomfortable, I'm sure you saw woman in bikinis before the world went to shit."

"Yeah, well a lot has changed since then." Nick says gruffly walking off down the hall forcing you to jog to catch up to him.

He leads you through a series of turns and stairs before entering a large cafeteria. Tables and benches fill the room and there is a hot line buffet set up along one wall. Glancing quickly around the room you don't see any of your friends. You follow Nick and grab a bowl of oatmeal from a worker. "Oatmeal is free, any add ins cost points." He moves down the line adding some berries and honey to the top of his oatmeal, nodding to the silverware. You grab a spoon and hesitate for a second before grabbing a butter knife and following Nick to a table. 

He raises an eyebrow at you when he sees the knife. "Negan won't give me my weapons," you mumble sliding it into your boot, "I figured a butter knife is better than no knife."  

Nick takes a bite of oatmeal and clears his throat. "Aren't you fucking him? I'm surprised he's even making you do assessment."

You choke on your oatmeal in shock. "What!?! No, I'm not fucking him!"

Nick raises a skeptical eyebrow. "It looked pretty friendly in your room last night and you weren't exactly... dressed..."

You glare at Nick. He glares at you.

 Fuck. Him.

"For your information Negan stole my fucking clothes last night out of the fucking locker room while I took a shower and then told me I had to put that shit on and beg for my clothes back... He's punishing me because I was used as bait to distract him when we tried to rob the fucking truck. And now I don't know what the fuck I am going to do to "appeal to his better nature" and get my fucking weapons back." You angrily take a bite of your oatmeal as Nick regards you to see if your bullshitting him.

"So.... You're not fucking him?"

"NO! Jesus Christ. Do you think I would be this stressed out if I was fucking him!"

Nick considers this answer before smiling to himself and taking another bite of food laughing. "So, you guys tried to rob a truck? How did that work out for you?"

"Ummmm, not well thanks."

You both finish your oatmeal in silence. Nick seems more relaxed now that it has been established you aren't actually fucking Negan.  

"So... What the fuck does this assessment involve" you ask Nick biting your lip and looking around. "Will I be completely fucked with no weapons?" 

He shrugs... "I can't imagine Negan letting them kill you, unless he's really pissed. You should be alright." He glances at the clock on the wall. "Shit, we need to move or your gonna be late."




You follow Nick out of the building practically running to keep up with his long strides noticing how many people are outside working. Most people ignore your passing but a few turn to watch and you hear a group of men joking about the fresh meat as you hurry by. 

You round a corner, practically running into Nick's back when he stops. You've finally found your friends. "TESS!" they all shout and bodies surround you pushing close, hugging or pressing their foreheads onto yours. "Are you OK?" "What happened?" "Where's your room?" "No one would tell us what happened to you." Where are the others?"

"ENOUGH!" Simon yells.

Everyone immediately shuts up and looks at him with somber faces, shuffling their feet not wanting to make eye contact.    

"It's time for assessment." He declares. "There will be a series of tests and you will be graded on each. This will help us determine your placement here. The first test is a timed run around the perimeter. There will be people stationed along the way who will attack you if you stop. If you stop, much like outside these gates, your done. The walkers don't care if you get tired.... I don't care if you get tired. Everybody understand? .....GO!"

Everyone bolts like the devil is on their heels. You hear barking from behind and glance back to see dogs have been released, chasing after your group. Quickening your pace, the group starts to string out naturally with the faster runners leading the pack. Knowing you won't come in first because you need to take two or three stride to match some of the taller runners so you focus on keeping a steady pace. Breath in, breath out. 

Along the way you see men scattered along watching closely and you know they are the ones who will grab anyone who stops. Lungs burning but you refuse to slow down. A small part of you is hoping if you perform well on all the tests Negan will give you your weapons back. You round the last corner and are happy to see only Kel and Devin beat you around the perimeter. You sit with them panting as the rest of the group filters in... Nick is calling out times from a stop watch that Simon jots down on his notepad as everyone crosses the finish line. The final three, Laura, Mike and Liz, are brought in with two of the men you recognize from the woods.  

"Here's your dead. Better not let any of them out of the gates unless your planning on giving the walkers a snack."

Simon looks less than impressed and jots down a note. "OK Cupcakes, next test. Target practice." With that he walks away and your group is forced to follow. He walks around toward the back of the building where you had noticed a firing range during your run. You glance at Nick and he gives you an encouraging smile.

Some of your friends are trying to get your attention but you shake your head. This isn't the time or place to talk about what had happened.

Simon holds up a hand gun. "You each get three shots with the hand gun. Then you get one round with the shotgun. Let's see how many you can kill." He points to targets spaced out at different distances. "This is timed... accuracy doesn't mean shit if you can't squeeze one off in a timely manner. If you don't know how to use one of the guns then don't. I don't need you blowing your damn hand off."

Everyone lines up. You know who the good shooters are in your group and everyone performs well. Only Laura backs out of the test entirely and you give her a sympathetic look as she returns to the line face aflame.

When it's your turn you step up to the line and Simon hands you a standard handgun with a smug, "Good luck Princess, wanna back out?"

Rolling your eyes you grip the gun and check to see that the safety is off before nodding to Simon to begin the clock. Sighting down the barrel, shooting at a target mid-range, your shot goes low hitting the target in the throat. Cursing you adjust and fire off two shots in quick succession taking out the first target and one farther back with head shots. Quickly sliding the safety on you move to the shotgun and see it has a long range site mounted on it. Flicking off the safety and hefting the gun up to focus on the target farthest down range. Breathing out you squeeze the trigger, relief floods you when you see your aim was true and you call time. Simon grunts while jotting down more notes and nods for you to move back into line.

"OK enough of this pussy footing around. Time for finals." Simon shouts as he moves off toward a heavily guarded area.

A gate opens and your group heads down a cattle run to another gate and more guards. You see high walled pen in a clearing and dread fills you as you hear the unmistakable sound of walkers. Glancing behind you notice a handful of guards have followed your group, anticipation on their faces. looking to Nick he gives you a shrug.

How the fuck are you going to pass this test with a butter knife.

"OK, listen up." Simon addresses everyone. "Based on your current ratings you will step up one by one. We will release a walker into the clearing and you will end it. Your rating determines how many walkers you need to kill from one to three. If you need help fall back, someone will clean up your mess for you and your test is over. First up, Laura."

Snickers from behind you as Laura moves forward. She looks like she might vomit, run or both. She grasps a knife out in front of her looking terrified.

"If you want to tap out sweetheart now's the time to do it," Simon says. "Didn't see much action out in the field?... Shit, if you want a couple of pointers you can come to my room later..."  

"What the fuck did you just say to her?" Brad, Laura's husband jumps forward. Simon laughs as two of the guards drag Brad back into line.

Simon is leaning close to Laura talking to her rubbing her arm staring mockingly at Brad the whole time. You can hear Brad struggling as the guards hold him back. You blood starts to boil knowing Simon is just toying with Brad and Laura, the same way Negan toyed with you last night. It seems like the only way to make it in your new home is to be a ruthless asshole.

Laura finally moves back into line head down in embarrassment. Simon jots down a note and look over grinning at Brad. "You're up Killer."

Brad moves forward with his knife out. They open the gate and three walkers stumble out. Brad takes care of the first two without any issues but you can tell he is so agitated by Simon he's being wreck less. He tries to shove the final walker toward Simon but stumbles when it's shoulders give way dropping his knife. They land on the ground in a heap and you hate the way Simon and the other guards seem to be enjoying this moment. The walkers teeth are coming closer and closer to Brad's face. Finally after what feels like an eternity Simon nods to one of the guards in a bored tone, "D, help this guy before he gets his face eaten off."

A man with a badly scared face moves forward and quickly ends the walker with a knife through the temple. He shoves the walker off Brad with a grunt and moves back into formation.

The rest of your group goes through the test:
Devin kills all three walkers
Kel manages to take down one
Mike gets two
Liz gets one and panics at the second.

Whistling causes you to turn as Negan approaches from behind. You drop to your knees with everyone else cursing under your breath. The only one left to go, your only weapon a stolen butter knife. 

"Well Simon, how are my new fucking recruits doing?" He asks jovially walking up to Simon, Lucille riding on his shoulder.  

Simon and Negan talk quietly looking over the notes. Simon's brow creases as Negan gestures to the walker pen. Glancing your way they continue talking until Negan breaks off, sauntering in your direction. Simon walks over to have a quick word with the guards before stationing himself back at the pen's gate. Nick looks at you with concern and  you know what ever is about to happen it isn't going to be good.

"Hello there doll face... Anything you want to say to me before you start your test? Need a fucking pep talk?" Flashing his pearly whites at you obviously enjoying how uncomfortable you are.

Keeping your eyes averted you clear your throat, "Can I, Please, have my weapons back?" Glancing up at him and hating how weak the hope on your face makes you look, "Please?"

He smirks at you, "And how bad do you want those fucking weapons Darling...." He steps closer until he is practically pressed up against you but you refuse to take a step back. "Would you say your aching for them?  Would you say you would get down on your fucking knees and beg me for them?" Leaning in he places a hand on your lower back and whispers in your ear, "I can think of a few things you could do while your down there that might convince me to go fucking easy on you..."

You know he is toying with you. He wants you to beg in front of all these people. He wants to break you and grind you into the dirt and show you, and them, that you are nothing. Rage courses through you as you look him right in the eye, "Keep them. I'll earn more."  

"I was fucking hoping you would say that darling. This is gonna be fun," He wraps his arm around your waist leading you forward into the clearing giving your hip a slight squeeze before he walks back over toward Simon to enjoy the show. Reaching into your boot you pull out the butter knife, anger boiling in your blood.

"Sweetheart, is that a fucking butter knife?" Negan calls out laughing causing his guards to snicker.

"Here, she can use my knife," Devin tries to move forward, hand extended with a knife.

Negan storms over like a bull, swinging Lucille down off his shoulder. "Get the FUCK back in line, Asshole. Did I ask you to give her a fucking knife? If I wanted her to have a fucking knife, she would have a fucking knife. She sawed the fucking head off a walker yesterday like a mother fucking badass because someone pissed her off." Negan looks around the group, "No one helps her. Understand?... Simon... Open the fucking gate."

Simon opens the gate and you aren't surprised to see three walkers set loose. You shift on your feet adrenaline pumping evaluating them on the level of decay in order to test the butter knife on the most rotten. Picking your first target you skirt around the walker in the front and plunge your butter knife into the eye of a walker so decayed it sinks in gushing brains and eye funk all over the knife and your hand, dripping down your arm. You desperately try to yank the slippery knife out of the dead walkers face while keeping an eye on the other two lumbering up to you.

The second walker is getting close and looks fairly fresh so you quickly stand and push kick it in the hip, slamming your boot into its head when it falls to the ground.

Unfortunately, the third walker is now between you and the butter knife. You back up looking around the ground for something to use finding nothing... No rocks, no sticks... Nothing. "Fuuuuck" you groan in frustration.

"Had enough?" Negan jeers from the side "Are you ready to fucking beg."

You glare at him distracted. The last walker tries to grab you and you slip under its arms falling onto your ass. Thinking quickly you sweep your leg knocking the walkers legs out from under it and slamming your boot heel into its head. A body looms over you and you look up expecting it to be Negan coming to gloat, but instead it's another walker.

"What the fuck," you back away from the walker as quick as you can flipping onto your stomach and sprinting away only to turn and see another three walkers have been let out of the pen.

"Mother Fuck!" you curse causing Negan to howl in laughter. The guards seem mildly interested now that you have been holding your own, but if you don't find a knife or something soon you don't know how much longer you will be able to hold out. You run back to the walker that has your butter knife and after a few attempts you finally manage yank it out of the socket. Wiping the knife off on your shirt you notice the middle walker from you has a knife on its belt...

The front walker is almost to you but you side step and slam your foot into its knee causing it's leg to snap and the walker topples over. You can deal with him later. Running at the middle walker, grabbing it by the hair, ripping its head back and slamming the butter knife into its eye. Dropping to the ground next to it you fumbling with the knife on its belt. The last standing walker was faster than you judged toppling you both over as you begin to stand and knocking the knife out of your hand.

"Fuck, fuck, mother fucking, shit, fuck...." a stream of curses exists your mouth as you try to force it's face away from you. You know the walker with the broken knee is dragging itself toward you on the ground but you aren't sure how far away it is. You do the only thing you can think of and jam both thumbs into the walkers eye sockets and into its brain. Blood and pus rain down on you as you manage to slump it off to the side rolling onto your belly and grabbing the lost knife.

Exhausted you army crawl to the remaining walker and jam the knife into its temple rolling onto your back panting, not caring if Simon let loose another hoard on you.

A shadow falls over you and for a minute you think it's another walker,  you brace for impact. Hearing Negan's deep voice exclaim "Jesus.... You look shitty! Nick, get her up and back to her room... I can't have her scaring the fucking kids walking around here covered in walker guts." Turning to address everyone else, "The rest of you dickwads will find out your placements tomorrow. Class dismissed!"

Nick rushes to your side helping you up. Cupping a hand to your face and holding your arm, "Are you alright do you need help standing." You see a dark look pass over Negan's face as he sees you stand, Nick hovering in case you fall.

"You know what, fuck it. Nick, you were here for all the tests. D, YOU make sure Tess get's back to her room."

Nick's face darkens and you can tell he wants to argue but he drops your arm and the man with the scared face steps up next to you nudging you forward. You walk out the gate too exhausted to even care that you didn't get to speak to any of your friends.     

Chapter Text

There was no one in the locker room again when you shower. Lingering under the hot water letting it run over your aching muscles and trying to relieve the tension in your neck. All you really want to do is go back to your room and sleep but you know you should eat and try to find your friends at some point. The problem was you don't remember how to get to the cafe and you have zero idea where your friends rooms are.

Quickly toweling off you pull on a Guns N' Roses tank without a bra and boy shorts and head back to your room. You eat the apple and drink the rest of the water, grateful you had saved them, before laying on your bed thinking to catch a quick nap before heading out to explore.

knock knock knock...

Groaning you get off the bed to see who is at the door and are relieved to see it's Nick carrying a tray with food on it.

"Oh my God, You're a life saver!" You declare smiling, moving aside so he can come in.

Nick grins walking past you, "I thought you might be hungry and I wasn't sure if you knew how to get back to the cafe. We can eat in your room together," he clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, "I mean... if you want."

"That's a great idea, I'm so exhausted all I want to do is eat something and go to bed!" blushing, realizing you're only half dressed. "I should probably put some clothes on..."

"No, sit. Eat. It's fine. I won't... It's fine." Nick stammers. He starts laying out the food on the table and you are happy to see two plates of spaghetti, two rolls and an apple each.

"Wow, thanks. Did you have to use your points for this?" You ask. Wondering how much you'll owe Nick for this feast. Owing him anything makes you uncomfortable. The fact he is friendly to you after finding out you didn't screw Negan makes you uncomfortable.

"Don't worry about it," Nick says digging into his food, "You'll be earning your own points starting tomorrow."

"Oh yeah, do you know where I'll be placed? Negan talked to you about the results right?"

"Yeah, you kicked ass on the tests, but Negan has the final say in placement." His face darkens, "Negan just wanted to keep me away from you, he didn't really want to ask me anything."

"Oh" taking a bite of spaghetti you consider his answer. "Why did he want to keep you away?"

Nick looks at you, "I guess he's afraid of a little competition."

Snickering, "Competition over what?"

Nick rubs his face and regards you with a strange look on his face. "So, Did you really decapitate a walker because someone pissed you off?"

You groan. "Yes..."

"Yes?!?! OK, I'm gonna need details." He laughs, genuinely intrigued.

"Cam, from my group, made a stupid comment while we were robbing the truck and I lost my temper... So, I might have chopped a walkers head off and threw it at him... Not really my finest hour."

"Jesus... remind me to never piss you off. What the fuck did he say that made you so mad?"

Biting a roll you chew it slowly trying to decide what to tell him, starring at it, twisting it in your hands. "He brought up my dead husband and..." You hesitate clearing your throat, "and... it was just bad timing..." you finished lamely.

Glancing at Nick you can tell he knows there is more to the story but he doesn't press the issue. You both eat silently for awhile.

"So, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Nick responds, "You can ask me anything."

You open your mouth but there is a knock at the door. Before you can get up the door swings open. It's D. Leveling his gaze at Nick he shakes his head and starts to back out of the room.

"Wait!" Nick calls getting up.

D hesitates, "You know I have to tell him. He'll find out anyway. I told you not to be fucking stupid."

"Fuck." Nick curses, "Fine... just wait, I'll go with you. Let me clean this shit up." He grabs the dishes and tray, leaving both apples for you and follows D out of the room.

"Hey wait!" You yell trying to follow them out but D turns and stops you.

"Do yourself and everyone else a favor, just stay in your fucking room tonight."

Hearing the deadbolt locking you in, you know it will be another night without answers.       




The deadbolt opening is what alerts you it is time to wake up. Disappointment hits you when you see D glowering at your door instead of Nick. "I'm here to take you to your assignment."

"OK, Where's Nick?"

Rolling his eyes, "Just get dressed."

You quickly throw on clean black pants, boots, sports bra and tank before rushing out the door while pulling your hair into a loose pony.

"So where am I assigned?" you ask hoping for something outside the gate in the fresh air.

"The Janitorial department" D says with a smirk.

"What. The. Fuck? Janitorial! Negan made me kill six walkers with no weapons and I'm a janitor?"

"I guess he thinks you still need to learn your place."

"Fucking scumbag" you grumble under your breath.

D leads you to the cafe and you grab a bowl of oatmeal, spotting your friends at a distant table. D tells you where to report after eating and you rush off to join them.

"Hey! We were wondering when we would see you," Devin says smiling and making room for you at the table. Sliding in between Devin and Mike you begin to eat.

"Where are you guys working? Apparently, I still need to learn my place so I'm a fucking janitor"

"A janitor, Jesus, What the fuck did you guys do out there. Negan tried to have you killed yesterday, Cam and Pitt have bullet holes in their legs up in medical and Chris.... I mean, Jesus... they said Negan beat his brains out with that fucking bat." Devin says. Everyone is looking at you expectantly.

Shaking your head, "We just really, really fucked up when we decided to rob that truck. And Negan is all over my ass because I was the fucking bait. I don't know what the fuck he wants from me."

"I'm pretty sure everyone knows what he wants from you." Mike snorts.

"Well, whatever, he can't have it. Where are you'll placed." changing the topic.

Devin and Brad are guards, Liz and Kel were placed in the gardens, Laura in the kitchen and Mike was put with the mechanics.

Noticing the room is clearing out you all get up and head your separate ways toward your new assignments.  




The main janitor office is down the hall from the cafe. Walking into the office an older woman looks up from her desk raising an eyebrow. "So you're the new recruit. Running late on day one I see."

"Sorry" you stammer.

She shakes her head as she gets up from the desk and gestures toward a white board with names and jobs listed next to each one. "You get your assignment daily here. You aren't done until every task is completed." Smacking a walkie into your hand, "it's tuned to channel 14, our office. If something comes up I'll call you... Not that I expect you to last long here... I'm assuming that's why you've been assigned to me.

"What?" Looking at her confused. "Simon said we might get switched around but..."

She gives you a strange look before proceeding to point out your list of jobs and what the supply closet code was on each floor. Then she pushed you out the door.

Sighing you headed up to floor three to mop the halls. Next you clean the locker rooms on the 2nd and 3rd levels, replacing some burnt out bulbs, finishing with emptying the trash in the cafe after the dinner rush. By the end of the day you were dirty, smelly and exhausted.



The next month is the same routine.     



Breakfast, office for your assignments, mop, clean, garbage, exhaustion.

You hardly see your friends. You haven't seen Nick since the night he brought you dinner. Hell, you were lucky to get a minute to bolt down some food before rushing to your assignment, rushing to the shower before collapsing into bed. Feeling isolated and alone your days are starting to drag out into never ending monotony and your brain is turning to mush.  

Your just finishing up your day when your walkie goes off. "Tess, I need you to deliver something. Head to the office."

You groan but dutifully trudge to the office hoping whatever it is it won't take long.

The office manager hands you a stack of towels. "You need to deliver these to room 5066."

Chapter Text

"Isn't the laundry department supposed to deliver towels?"

She levels a steely gaze at you. Shifting uncomfortably you take the towels and trudge out the door. You've never been to the fifth floor. The main floor has mostly common areas, two and three are mainly housing, the fourth floor has limited housing and medical along with a library and another rec room.

Entering the fifth floor, looking around. It's quiet. Eerily quiet.

Most of the doors are shut. You head down the hall glancing into doors that are open. You see an ornate dining room. A locker room that looks way fancier then any of the ones you normally clean. You hear feminine giggles and some kind of music from behind closed double doors. Room 5066 is at the end of the hall and there's a guard standing outside.

You walk up to the guard hoping to just leave the towels with him but he opens the door and motions you inside. The room is big and nicely furnished. It's an office area with a large window taking up almost a whole wall. There is a dark wooden desk in the middle of the room facing the window and a door to another room behind the desk is slightly ajar. Noticing it's sunset you walk to the window and look out wistfully thinking how nice it would be outside in the fresh air. You haven't been outside in over a month. The longest it's been since the world fell to shit. Imagining the cool crisp air, the scent of wood fires, fall has come and the leaves are starting to turn.  

Shaking yourself, hurrying to drop the towels on the desk, planning on sneaking outside before showering. Turning to leave, the door behind the desk swings open and Negan walks into the room causing you to quickly fall to your knees with your head bent.

"I called for these fucking towels 20 minutes ago, What the hell took you so long, " he inquires standing in front of you.

His feet and legs are bare and as you look up at him from the ground your horrified to see he's only wearing boxer briefs, looking down in annoyance with his arms crossed over his bare chest.

Quickly standing up you avert your eyes. "Sorry I, just, I wasn't sure, ummmmm. Sorry" you finish lamely. You can tell your blushing because although you hate him you can't deny how fucking good looking he is. "I'll just go now." you finish awkwardly heading for the door.

"Wait" he calls out, "Wait, I didn't fucking dismiss you yet." You turn and he motions you to come back into the room.

Sighing you head back over trying to keep your eyes above his collar bone.

"So how are you liking your placement in the Janitorial department?"

"It sucks, I hate it..."

He grins, "Well..."

"Let me guess," cutting him off, rolling your eyes, "If I get on my knees, beg for you, appealing to your better nature, maybe you could get me a better placement.... Is that about right?"

"It couldn't fucking hurt could it, darling?"

"Can I ask you something... Why have me kill six fucking walkers with no weapons just to place me in Janitorial services to rot? Because you think scrubbing floors all day is gonna break me? You think that shit is gonna make me fall to my knees and want to suck your fucking dick?" You stand in front of him giving him an annoyed look waiting for him to answer.

"There it is... There's that fucking fire I wanted to see." He gives you a charming smile half sitting on his desk looking you over with a calculated look. 

"So, what. You're just trying to piss me off? You have a real perverted sense of humor." Your eyes slide down to his stomach and the bulge in his pants quickly glancing up hoping he didn't notice.


"Like what you see darling?" he asks tilting his head "Does seeing me like this make you remember your first night here..." As he talks he steps away from the desk approaching you. "When I was on top of you," dropping his voice lower, "and you were begging me for..." reaching out and placing a big warm hand on your throat brushing his thumb up over your jaw line "more."

You look him in the eye and swallow nervously, "I was begging for my clothes..."

Laughing darkly he leans down and whispers in your ear, "We both know that's only half true." His hand on your throat is resting on your collar bone and the other hand has reached out to grab your hip squeezing it as he talks.

"Negan," you say in a warning tone, bringing your hands up to his chest to push him away but he is taking a step forward forcing you to step back and grab onto his shoulders so you don't fall.

He presses the advantage, kissing your neck and you feel your body break out in goose bumps at the intimate contact. Giving a low hum of approval Negan presses you against the wall kissing your neck and nipping your ear, one hand cupping your head while the other is squeezing your hip rubbing small mind numbing circles with his thumb, dipping below the waistband of your jeans.

"Negan," you breath trying to push him away but hating that your voice sounds weak.

Sensing your conflict he kisses you, swirling his tongue in your mouth and your knees start to buckle. "Please, Negan, please" you beg between kisses. The hand that had been cupping your face is now moving up under your shirt to tease your nipples through your bra and only one of your hands is cooperating in fending him off, the other has wrapped around his neck into his hair and your hips have started rocking into him.

He groans as he bends scooping you up and carrying you over to his desk, your traitor legs wrapping around his torso and you can feel how hard he is.

He's licking and nipping your neck, grinding his hips against you and you moan because it's been so long since you have had any physical contact with anyone. As he starts to pull off your shirt you snap to your senses, pulling away from him panting.

"Negan. No stop! Fuck... Stop. Please." You're pushing at him frantically, panicking. What are you doing? You need to get out of the room now before you do something you regret.

Seeing the panic on your face, he immediately stops and backs away raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck." Sliding off the desk and stumbling to the door. Your hand is turning the handle when his arm reaches around your waist from behind, pressing up behind you, holding the door shut with his other hand.

"I didn't dismiss you yet," he murmurs into your ear making you turn your head toward him. His eyes are dilated and you know he sees the desire on your face. 

"Negan, please, please let me go," begging, pressing your forehead against the door. Willing him to let go of you so you can run far away from his room. The walls feel like they are closing in.

Laughing darkly in your ear, "See, darling, begging isn't so hard. Since you asked so fucking nice." Kissing your temple and he releases you and the door.
You glance back at him biting your lip before forcing the door open and quickly walking down the hall with your face burning.     




Head spinning you stumble through the halls trying to get back to your room, rounding a corner you run headlong into someone.

"Sorry," you mumble trying to move around them.

"Tess?" Relief floods your body, it's Mike.

"Mike, what are you doing here?"

"Hey, I was coming to look for you. No one has seen you in weeks where have you been? Cam and Pitt are out of medical and have their placements. We're celebrating in the bar." 

"Oh, I... I don't think I should. I should probably just shower and go to bed."

Grinning Mike wraps an arm around you, propelling you in a new direction. "Don't be silly. Everyone wants to see you."

He leads you down to the first level, through a few twists and turns and into a dimly lit, crowded room. You notice an upper deck surrounding the main room where people are lurking like birds of prey. There are couches and tables sprinkled around the walls and some bar games, pool, darts, and a ping pong table. The atmosphere is relaxed and casual but you feel thrown off, like you entered an alien world.

Following Mike to the bar you see all of your old friends. Pitt and Cam are sitting on stools at the bar, greeting you with hugs. Everyone is pressing in, they all seem so happy. Laughing and joking. Hands casually thrown around each other, clinking glasses, happy to be alive.

Your vision blurs, remembering a time when someone else's arm would have been around you, pulling you close, joke falling from his lips for your ear alone. Shaking your head trying to dislodge the offending memory. Better left in the past. Better forgotten. You feel off balanced.

Someone hands you a beer and you take a swig. The bubbles bursting on your tongue reminding you of countless nights spent dimly lit bars a lifetime ago. Looking around there are too many faces, falling into shadows, distorted like gargoyles in the shifting light. Trying to walk away someone grabs at your waist pulling you back, giggling in your ear, "No, stay, we miss you." Kel presses her face into your hair.

Too close. Memories of a different face pressed to your hair whispering, "Mommy I love you." The walls closing in, bile rising in your throat. Pushing away, stumbling, panic you rush out of the door into the florescent lit hall. Harsh yellow light stabbing your eyes.

Desperate for escape you go up the first stair you find, bumping into someone as you pass, mumbling sorry, moving like a puppet on strings. Blood is pounding in your ears and your head is spinning with laughing faces and memories better left dead. Blindly making it to the 4th floor you rush to your room, fumbling your knife off your belt  rifling through your bag for a lighter.

click, click, click

The flame springs to life... passing the knife over its glow. focusing on the blade, the flame, forcing the other thoughts out...

Taking a deep shaking breath you press the blade into the side your wrist, away from major arteries. Pain pierces your skin. Wiping away the memories that swirl in your head. Refocusing your thoughts to the present, the physical. A tear slides down your face, mimicking the tear of blood sliding down your arm, bowing your head. Taking a shuddering breath you feel your pulse slowing, the memories fading, calm taking over. Control.

Exhausted you rise from the floor. Wiping your knife, moving like a robot to the showers, standing overly long under the cascade of hot water. Being sure to take the time to wash the fresh cut in your arm, next to all the other fading scares... A road map to your mourning. 

Back in your room you wrap your arm with a black cloth, falling into bed praying for dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Awaking in a haze you groan sitting up in bed. Memories of last night begin to swirl in your head, digging a nail into the fresh scab, pain bringing you back to the present.

Pulling on jeans and a tank, heading to the door and the drudgery that has become your daily routine, wondering what exactly you are even surviving for anymore.

Confusion sets in when your name isn't on the white board. The manager gruffly tells you that your placement has been switched and you need to report to the kitchens. 

Hoping you aren't late you backtrack back to the cafe. Entering the kitchen, freezing as all eyes turn to you. Thankfully, Laura, who was stationed in the kitchens, steps forward grabbing your hand and the others turn back to work. "What are you doing here?" she squeals delighted, "What happened to you last night, you just disappeared." Laura's face falls in disappointment when she sees your wrapped wrist.

"The Janitorial manager just told me my placement changed, I." pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to focus your thoughts.

"I'll take you back to Chef." pulling you along down a hall. Huge metal doors of refrigerators, freezers and a large pantry line the right of the hall. She pulls you into a small office. "Chef, this is Tess, she's been reassigned to the kitchens."

An older string bean of a man turns to you, "Tess.... You need to see Lorraine, she's in charge of the servers." he motions toward an older woman pouring over a notebook.

Giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Laura walks out the door. 

Lorraine regards you over over-sized frames, giving her the appearance of a bug. "Ahhh, Tess.  Yes, Simon said you were pretty. Yes, I can see why he sent you to us."

"Excuse me?" shifting uncomfortably on your feet, crossing an arm over your stomach. Chef has already left, you are alone in the room with your new supervisor, her eyes raking over your body like she is appraising a horse.

"What, Dear?" Lorraine's bug eyes swivel back to yours. "Oh, yes, your assignment. Normally we start you off cleaning the tables in the cafe, that sort of thing, but Simon assures me that you were a server before all this" waving her arm aimlessly.

"Tonight you will be helping Rosanna with the Savior Dinner but for now I need you to run trays for Chef to the med ward... Once your done with the trays you can relax till 4. You will meet up with Rose here."

Walking out of the office you see the Executive Chef shouting out orders scrutinizing his team. Glancing over, seeing you, he waves his hands a stack of trays. "For medical, Go. Now. The food will be cold."

"Yes Chef" Grabbing the stack, backing out of the door and heading to medical on the fourth level.

After delivering your trays and being told by a harried doctor to retrieve them later you wonder what to do with yourself. Since coming here you haven't had any spare time to wander. 


Walking out the big steel doors, bright sun hits your face causing you to blink. The sun warms your skin and you breath in the fresh air. Walking aimlessly and noting all the hustle and bustle, making you wish you had an outdoor assignment.

You see the mechanic area and decide to head over hoping Mike, Cam or Pitt are there. Walking up a few of the other men working look you over making you second guess your choice. Discomfort is short lived when you see your friends consulting each other over a truck off to the side. Quickly heading over to hear them deliberating on where to start and divvying up the work.

Pitt gives you a quick hug before running into the shop to grab tools, Cam presses his head to yours and Mike gives you a lopsided smile before sliding under the truck.

"Shouldn't you be scrubbing a floor somewhere." Cam asks grinning and your glad he isn't holding a grudge over the walker head you threw at him.

"Apparently I've been upgraded to serving. I even get some time off mid day to relax before serving at some special dinner."

"Here," Pitt deposits spark plugs and a ratchet into your hands, "Help us get this bitch back up and running."

Spending the afternoon outside is a relief. The quiet task of finding and replacing parts, working through the systems, clinking of tools, the smell of the engine, center you and you feel the stress drain. Sadly you realize it is almost time for you to report back to the office and you need to clean up and collect the med trays before serving dinner.

Waving to your friends you head in, noting a supply truck pulled into the front gate, D glowering at you while it's being unloaded. Negan is talking to a man, head bowed, hand on his shoulder and you quicken your pass before he sees you.



Entering the kitchens you head to the back office and meet Rosanna, a bubbly strawberry blond. Her curly hair is pulled off her face, skin tight clothes hugging every curve, scrunching her nose as she takes in your appearance. "Come on," she grabs your arm and pulls you along. "Let's set up quick so we can get you changed into better clothes."

"What?" Looking down at yourself and looking back questioning.

"Honey, we aren't just servers at this thing, we're the eye candy too. And trust me you aren't gonna get asked back looking like that." 

Baffled you follow her to a large dining area. A cart with silverware, cups, napkins and plates is waiting and you immediately start setting the table while Rosanna explains how service will work. Glancing at the clock she grabs your hand and pulls you into a small room off the dining area pulling out a bag.

"Lorraine told me you needed some help so I brought some better clothes... Strip!... What is that a sports bra?" She's pulling different shirts out of the bag holding up before discarding them. "Ahhhh! Here!" She triumphantly hands you a black lacy bra and a tight low cut top.

"Look, I appreciate what you're doing but..."

"You came from the Janitor department right?" leveling her gaze at you, "If you don't want to go back there I suggest you listen to me. Simon is throwing you to the wolves having you serve this dinner your first night. So either he's doing it to fuck with you or someone requested you. Get dressed."

Sighing you pull on the new clothes, groaning at how your tits are once again prominently highlighted.

"OK hold still." Rosanna quickly applies some eyeliner and mascara. "Put these on! Quick they're coming!" Shoving some heeled ankle boots at you before rushing out to start greeting the diners.

Sliding the boots on you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you head out to start filling water and roll your eyes. Rose seems nice but you look like you should be working a damn gentlemen's club. 

Rounding the corner you almost drop the pitcher of water when you see the table filled with a group of Negan's saviors. Rosanna is doing her rounds giggling and flirting while delivering drinks around the table, expertly dodging groping hands without seeming to.

Spotting Simon to the right of an empty seat you decide to start there. "Tess." He greets you smiling. "Moving up in the World."

"Yeah, I guess someone decided I was shit at scrubbing toilets."

"Somebody decided something," he replies dryly causing your stomach to nervously flip.

Moving down the table you fill everyone's glass. Some of the men ask your name but most just stare openly at your tits. You catch Rosanna's eye across the table and she grins shrugging.

You approach the next chair, someone with dark hair and your surprised to see it's Nick. A grin spreads across your face as you nudge him with your hip, grabbing his glass to fill, "Hey stranger."

He looks delighted, standing to give you a hug. His face is pressed into your hair murmuring in your ear, "You look amazing, Negan's had me out on runs." As he's pulling away, hands sliding down your back lingering on your hips, you notice everyone down on one knee. Looking to the door you see Negan, leveling a steely gaze at Nick. Dropping to your knee, head bent low, cursing under your breath. Negan's boots pause in front of you causing your heart to beat double time before he moves down to the head of the table. Standing you quickly finish filling Nick's glass before heading to Negan's seat.

He's talking to Simon and you hope he is too distracted to notice you. Grabbing his glass you pour water before carefully setting it down. Out of the corner of your eye you see him glance at your arm, frowning at the clothe wrapped around your left wrist. Rosanna places a whiskey and water in front of him, nodding her head toward the side room looking concerned. You bolt while Negan's distracted.

Roseanna follows you, roughly grabbing your arm. "What the fuck was that about?" she hisses.

"What?" you ask, wondering which "that" she's referring to.

"With Negan! He looked seriously pissed when he saw you hugging Nick!"

"Oh, yeah, I don't know... Negan.... ummmm." trailing off, no idea what to say.

"Well, if I was you I would stay the fuck away from Nick. Negan isn't the type of guy to play games with." Roseanna retorts. "Come on, they'll be bringing the food soon, help me with the rolls."

Each grabbing a basket of rolls you head out to serve. Noting Negan's eyes following you, wondering what his problem is. You weren't trying to play games you had been saying hello to a friend. Annoyance flaring, aren't you allowed to have friends?   

You casually lean down and brushing your chest against Nick's shoulder as you deliver his roll, Negan's eyes darken. Raising you eyebrow at him you smirk causing his jaw to tighten. You spend the rest of the meal leaning, nudging, and flirting with all of the men except Negan, being sure to lavish extra attention on Nick. He is doing his best to ignore you but the tightness around his eyes and glower on his face betrays him. 

Roseanna keeps sending you warning looks that you ignore. What is he going to do? Send you back to the Janitor department?  

When the meal is over you linger near the door talking to Nick. A stab of guilt realizing you have actually missed him and knowing you're probably the reason he was sent away, hoping Negan won't take out tonight's dinner on him. You gladly accept his offer to meet up at the bar later. You finish cleaning the dining room while Rosanna carts the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Returning to the side room for fresh water you hear her returning.

Large hands grab you from behind, forcing you up against the wall. Panic jolts through you as you try to fight but your arm is twisted painfully behind you.

"Tess," Simon's voice whispers in your ear, "You're either fucking stupid or you're suicidal with that shit you pulled tonight. Try to get this through your thick head. You belong to Negan, he owns you. Don't bite the hand that fucking feeds you. Do you understand? He can make your life hell."

Releasing you, you turn to face him, glaring at him, rubbing your shoulder. "So because he wants to fuck me I can't have any male friends?"

Simon shakes his head sighing. "You know there's a big fucking difference between having friends and antagonizing him. Don't be fucking stupid." With that he walks off.

Biting your lip you wonder what kind of shit storm you stirred up. Roseanne walks in giving you a questioning look. "Everything ok? I just saw Simon..."

Sighing, "Yeah, it's fine. Were you planning on going to the bar after this?"

Roseanne grins, "Yeah, you wanna come?"

"I was going to meet Nick there later."

Frowning, "Look Tess, I'm serious, you didn't see the look on Negan's face."

"No, I know," cutting her off, "I need you to tell him I can't make it." She's looking at you with concern and you can see she wants to pry. "Just tell him I didn't feel well," you mumble sliding out the door, heading back to your room.

Later that night someone softly knocks at your door. Ignoring it, guilt and longing twisting in your stomach.




Trudging to the kitchen office, head swirling with mixed emotions. Guilt for skipping out on Nick. Shame for antagonizing Negan.  Queasy that you even considered meeting up with a man who wasn't your husband. Reprimanding yourself for even considering it. Knowing that part of your life is over. Wanting to lock those feelings up and throw away the key.  Deep in your thoughts only to find a peeved Lorraine waiting for you.

"Rose told me about your behavior last night. Go to the kitchen, run the trays and if I hear of you stepping a toe out of line I will send you back to janitorial services myself."

Hanging your head you walk back to the kitchen to pick up the first load of trays for medical. Trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess. The truth is you aren't really fit to be making any social decisions. That's why you were always volunteering to be in the woods savaging. So your reckless behavior since losing everything wouldn't jeopardize your group.

If only you could get a job outside, out of the walls and away from people suffocating you. The walls constantly closing in. Unfortunately the only person who could make that call was Negan. After last night, there was no way he was going to give you anything you want.  

Your mind was spinning. Walking back and forth from the kitchen with tray after tray. Mind running like a rat in a trap trying to figure a way out of this mess. Passing people in the hall and not even noticing. Depression coming in waves. The scab on your arm itching, burning, begging you to tear it open so the pain and blood could remind you you're alive.

You hardly notice when Chef slides an ornate dish of fresh fruit for you to deliver to the 5th floor.

Trudging up the stairs, mind in a haze you walk down the hall. Eyes cast down, not caring where you were going. Passing the fancy locker room you enter the next room over, the one you heard music from. There are four women arranged around the room. All in different colored lingerie and heels.

What. The. Fuck.

Stopping, blinking in surprise, staring at all of them. Looking like a deer in head lights... 

"ummmmm...." stammering,"Did.... Did someone order fruit?" 

They stare at you. You stare back.

Couches and throw pillows, a crystal chandelier, an ornate bar makes you feel like you stepped into an alternate universe. A very weird, gilded, hyper sexualized alternate universe. 
Shrugging you start moving to the bar to deliver the food when a voice runs chills down your spine, "Hello Ladies, how are my wives today?"

fuck. shit. fuck.

Pivoting holding the tray of fruit you sink to your knees head bowed. His boots slowly clomp up to you and stop. 


Paralyzed you don't move, don't look up, don't breath.

"Well shit, are you gonna stand up or are we all gonna have to sit on the fucking floor to get some fruit?"

You stand, holding the tray, staring straight ahead at his well muscled chest. He gives a deep chuckle causing you to quickly glance up making eye contact. Shit. Glancing back down cheeks burning.

"Not as fucking ballsy as last night, huh?"

You clench your teeth.

His big hand reaches toward the tray hovering around your chest before grabbing a grape and turning away.

You release a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

"Ladies, this is Tess. Keep her company while Nicole and I have a little fun." walking over, wrapping his arm around a leggy redhead they enter a room off a small hall leaving you awkwardly holding the tray of fruit in the middle of the room.

The other women walk over to grab some fruit, not even bothering to acknowledge you.

"Well, I need a drink." one with a dark ponytail says walking to the bar.

"Oh, pour me something, is there any Champagne?" a blond with long hair struts over.

"Amber, you know there hasn't been Champagne in weeks." short dark hair, walking behind the bar and rummaging around.

You turn to stare at them, wide eyed when the first moan comes from behind the door.

"With all the men he has, you would think someone could find some fucking champagne." Amber pouts.

More moans... (Your stomach clenches...)

"Here have a whiskey." short hair slides a glass across the bar.

a bed creaking... (Just ignore it, this is fine.)

"Ewww, no, you know whiskey gives me a headache." pouting.

moans... (a bead of sweat forms on your brow.)

"How about rum?" pony tail asks.

creaking.... Yes.. Yes... (Jesus, he sounds like he knows what he's doing in there.)

"rum isn't the same as champagne." Amber whines.

moaning... Negan!... creaking.... yes.... (this isn't happening... think of something else.)

"Well, we don't have any" short hair is losing her patience.

creaking... please... moaning.... please.... creaking.... yes..... (Not happening. I am not turned on right now.)

"Sherry, can't you talk to your husband... Sorry, EX husband about finding champagne?"

"Amber...." warning tone from ponytail aka Sherry.

moaning... screaming... creaking.... (OK, now I'm turned on... shit.)

"What?" Amber innocently snickers.

creak... creak... creak... (gripping the tray so hard your knuckles are white.)

"We all know about you and Mark."

moan... creak... moan (Fucking hell, he is pounding her right now.)

"You wouldn't!"

please... Negan... please... (I can't take much more of this.)

"Drink the fucking rum Amber."

yes... yes... (Squeezing your thighs together, trying to relieve some pressure...)


final scream... silence... (Oh thank God. OK, breath be cool. You are not turned on...)

The other woman sip their drinks, seemly oblivious to the sounds of Negan fucking the life out of Nicole, while you stand rooted to the spot, desire tingling between your legs.

The door opens and Negan walks out slipping his leather coat across his broad shoulders. His wives look over expectantly. Wandering over he gives each a kiss on the forehead before reaching for a beer. Eyeing you while taking a long pull, grinning as he swallows. Silently you pray to every God you know that he can't tell how turned on you are. Walking slowly from behind the bar he takes the tray from your hands handing it to a disgruntled looking Amber.

"Let's go have a chat" Hand clamps down on your shoulder and your knees nearly give out. Gripping you by the neck he propels you forward and out the door down a short hall to his office.


Chapter Text

Once inside he drops his hand and props Lucille onto a stand before removing his jacket. You stand awkwardly not knowing what to do, shifting from foot to foot. His warm hand on your back causes you to jump. Sliding it to the small of your back he guides you to a chair.

"You seem jumpy." Pressing your shoulders until you drop into the chair. "Flustered." Walking around to sit behind his desk. You breathe a little easier, now that there is distance between you. "Did you enjoy meeting my wives?"

"It was very educational."

"How so?"

"You're out of champagne," you reply dryly.

Throwing back his head laughing. "Fucking Amber. That girl could drink a barrel of champagne and still fucking complain. "    

"Yes, the  conversation was riveting."

"Fuck, darling, I didn't marry them so they could talk. I married them so they could fuck and suck till the cows come home."



"I'll pass on being a concubine locked in a gilded cage, thanks anyway." absentmindedly jabbing your cut with your nail, trying to stay focused.

Catching the subtle movement of your hand. "Come here a minute," tapping his side of the desk.


"It wasn't a fucking request..."

Sighing, moving to his side of the desk grasping you left wrist protectively with your right hand.

"Sit" tapping the desk directly in front of his chair. Hesitating he gives a warning look before you comply. 

Reaching out, taking your wrapped wrist in his hand, removing the black cloth, revealing a heavily scared and cut wrist. Trying to pull it away, he firmly grasps it, quietly running his fingers on your scars. "Why?" dark eyes search your face.

"It's nothing." Pulling your arm wishing he would let go. "Why do you care?" Anger, shame, the sick need to cut again coiling in your stomach.

"You think this is what they would want? You dead husband and kid... For you to slice your fucking arm up?"

"Negan, please. Please, don't"

"Don't what? Talk sense?"

"You don't understand."

"Then fucking explain it."

Taking a deep breath, shutting your eyes, shaking, hoping he understands. "It calms me down. When I feel like I'm going to lose control, the pain brings me back to the present. I'm not trying to kill myself I'm just... It makes me remember I'm alive... I feel dead inside." Looking in his eyes seeing if your making sense, whispering, "I'm just so fucked up. I shouldn't be around other people... Being locked in these walls. I feel like I'm going insane."

Standing he walks to a mini fridge, pulling out two beers, handing you one. Eyeing the bottle in distrust, "What's this going to cost me?"

"First one's free," award winning smile. 

Snorting, "Nice, like a drug dealer." Gesturing to yourself, "see you dodged a bullet by not fucking me."

Raising his eyebrow, "There's still time."

Rolling your eyes, "So, do you think you could move my placement to scavenging... Or something not inside with people?"

"Excuse me? Did you just ask for a fucking favor?"

Taking a swig of beer to prep yourself you slide off the desk and drop to your knees in front of his chair. Looking him in the eye, "Negan. Please, can you change my placement? The janitor department sucked. We both can agree, after last night, serving isn't in my best interest. Please, I need to be away from all these people."

A Cheshire cat grin is spreads across his face, "And, what will you do for me if I agree to move you."

Biting your lip looking down. "I don't know. I don't have anything."

Winking, "Don't sell yourself short, doll face, I see plenty of assets from where I'm sitting." 

Groaning, "You literally just fucked one of your wives, Negan! You can't possibly be trying to get into my pants. I listened to you fuck the shit out of her, she probably can't walk after that..."

Negan throws his head back laughing, eyes twinkling, "Jealous?"  

Ignoring his dig, "Look, I'll pay you back, OK? I promise. If you change my position, I'll make it worth your while."

Crossing his arms across his chest, giving you a warning look. "Don't make promises doll."

"So will you?" A smile lights your face and you put your hands on his knees, standing up. leaving them there you lean in and kiss his cheek. "I would really appreciate it," you whisper in his ear.

Grumbling, rising from his seat walking you toward his door. "I'll consider it."

"Listen," pressing the advantage, "if you let me out with my weapons, let me bring Cam and Pitt, we can do a good run. You won't regret it."

"Oh, now you need weapons and your friends. The favors are starting to add up doll face."

Turning to face him bouncing on the balls of your feet, "Please, Negan, please!" Feeling like a child begging for a toy but not caring. Not if it will mean freedom and the open air.  

Grabbing your chin in his hand, forcing you to look into his face, he leans down causing you to jerk your head back in alarm. A wolfish grin spreads across his face. "Nervous?" His hand moves to your throat resting on your collar bone, your back pressed against the door, whispering in your ear, "I said I would consider it, as long as you promise to hold up your end of the fucking bargain to make it worth my while." 

Swallowing nervously, nodding once. He laughs darkly, kissing your temple while gently squeezing your neck.




Three days later at the end of your shift, bone weary from running trays, helping with kitchen prep, returning to your room to find a black bag on your bed. Cautiously opening it, your heart swells when you find your weapons. Only after checking to make sure everything is accounted for do you notice the note.

"Don't forget our fucking deal."

Inwardly cringing, knowing you'll need to pull off a hell of a run to stay off your back paying for this favor, you rush out of the room to find Pitt and Cam.

Checking the bar and rec rooms, finally finding them squirreled away playing poker with a few of the saviors. Smoke hangs heavy in the room as you slink in, skirting along the wall. A couple dry humping on a dirty sofa in the corner. Perching on the arm, waiting for your chance. 

Pitt folds, finally noticing you as he stretches, rubbing his neck. Sliding up next to him, crouching by the chair, "I need your help with something."

Grunting Pitt shifts position, patting his leg, eyes back on the game. Cam nods at you briefly, focusing on his hand. There are a few raised eyebrows as you take position on Pitt's lap but most are too focused on the game to care. You notice D frowning at you and you're sure word of your visit will reach Negan or Nick, probably both.   

Pitt casually drapes an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, leaning forward to grab the cards dealt. Wrapping one arm around his back you turn yourself, free hand on his chest so you can whisper into his ear. "Negan, gave me my weapons back, said I can go on a scavenging run, but I need it to pay off big."

"How big?"

"The warehouse, near our old camp."

His eyes flicker to you, frowning.

"If we can score big on this run it will pay off for all of us. Do you want to be stuck in that garage forever? Playing poker for extra points?"

Pitt doesn't respond, brow furrowed, weighing the pros and cons, eyes never leaving the game. Clinking of chips being wagered. Cards flitting across the table. Curses when someone folds. Smoke wafting through your hair. You don't move, don't breath. Everything depends on Pitt agreeing to help you.


Cards shown. Pitt busts.

"Shit" he breaths. "OK" arm squeezes around your waist, grazing a kiss on your shoulder, "OK, We'll help you."

Letting out your breath, closing your eyes, resting your forehead against the side of his head. "Thank you."

"Are you playing poker or getting ready to fuck?" one of the men interrupts, causing Pitt to glare at him.   

"Fuck off man, we're leaving." Pitt spits back standing up wrapping a protective arm around you. "Cam, let's go, we have shit to discuss."

Grunting, Cam stands,throwing his cards on the table, "This shit was getting boring anyway." He follows you and Pitt out of the door. D's eyes burning a hole in your back.  




The next morning, 7am sharp, hurrying out of your room to meet Cam and Pitt by the truck. Dressed all in black: pants, boots, tank, hair pulled into two French braids. Black bag packed with weapons, lock picks, climbing gloves, rope, flashlight, hand ascenders, and a harness. You are taking any chances on fucking this one up.

Exiting the building, grinning when you see them, waiting at the gate. Throwing your bag into the back, getting ready to climb into the cab when the guard calls your name.

"Boss wants to see you." pointing toward the doors.

Frowning, running over, dropping to your knee in front of him. "Leaving without saying goodbye, darling? I'm hurt."

Standing, "We have a ways to go to make camp. We wanted to head out early."  

"Camp? Who said anything about camp. You're scavenging and coming the fuck back, today."

"When did we agree on that?" Frustration coloring your words,  "I can't get the shit that will make it worth our deal in one day."

"Then I guess your gonna have to come up with a better plan for paying me back." Cheshire cat grin spreading across his face, running a gloved hand up your bare arm.

Crossing your arms across your chest, glaring at him, considering your options. "Negan..."

"Happy hunting, darling," cutting you off, kissing your forehead before dismissing you.

"What the fuck was that about," Cam inquires as you climb into the cab.

"He wants us back today."

Pitt laughs, "I hope he enjoys disappointment."

Cam snorts, "Yeah, he's seems real forgiving so far."

The truck rolls out, your body relaxing as the gate clangs shut behind you.



Chapter Text

Closing your eyes, knowing you need to be rested up for the tasks ahead. Feeling the amicable silence descending over the cab. Focusing on the sounds of the road, not letting your thoughts wander to things better left forgotten.

Around mid-afternoon Pitt pulls the car over, a small group of four walkers staggering off the side of the road. Without saying anything everyone hops out, pulling various weapons.

"Which do you think?" Cam questions, glancing at Pitt.

"That one with the long hair should work." 

As one you each step forward, finishing the remaining walkers. There was a time this brutality would have bothered you, the careless ending of their lives, still clinging to the thought that they were people, but that time is long past. Now they are just a means to an end.

The final walker is tallish, long dirty hair. Decaying but fresher than the others. Cam quickly breaks her leg with a side kick to the knee. Bone snapping, she crumples and begins pitifully dragging herself along the ground gnashing her teeth as Pitt removes rope from the truck. Cam places his boot on her back, anchoring her to the ground, nodding to you. calmly  crouching, removing the pointer, middle and ring fingers of each hand, making it harder for her to grip. You each grab and arm dragging her to the truck where Pitt is waiting Rope already prepped, crisscrossing the hood. Flipping her over, Cam and Pitt holding her arms while you wrench her bottom jaw off using a crowbar. Dragging her up onto the hood securing her with ropes. The world's most gruesome hood ornament head, roving and groaning.

"Better collect the others," Pitt comments as he walks toward the remaining three bodies. Checking each for valuables and weapons before pulling them to the back of the truck. Cam stands in the cargo bed dragging them in.

Pitt regards the sky, noting early evening settling in, "We're less than an hour away, we should set up camp and settle in for the night, be ready to hit it early. Should be back early, day after tomorrow."

"You think Negan's gonna be pissed?" questioning, dreading the answer, but knowing the haul will pay off.  

Cam laughs, "I think you're fucked, literally and figuratively."

"Thanks a lot, asshole."

"Look, just offer to suck his dick, you'll be alright. Let me know if you wanna practice, I'll be your guinea pig."

Pulling your boot knife, "You bring that worm you call a dick near me and I'll cut it off."

Jumping down from the cargo bed, Cam wraps his warm arms around you smiling, "I've missed this... Shit isn't the same without you threatening to dismember me daily," kissing your forehead.

"I've missed you too," mumbling into his embrace. 


Waking the next morning in the cab dread settles over you, it's too quiet, something is wrong. Gently nudging Pitt to wake him, warm arm draping around you, face in your hair. Glancing over you see his eyes are open, alert, he senses the danger too. Quietly you reach for your knife while he pulls his gun, flicking the safety off. He nods and you both sit up slowly, covering different sides, looking for the danger.

Peering through the fog straining your ears, listening. If Cam had been attacked during the final watch, why didn't he call out? He wasn't stupid enough to go after strange noises alone at night.

"Shit," Pitt breathes next to you. Glancing over you see him peering out of the back window. Following his eye line your stomach drops. Cam is laying on the cold ground trussed up like a chicken, Negan's best tracker Red quietly tending a fire next to him.

"Fuck," groaning in frustration. Of course. Negan had you followed.

Climbing out of the truck, trudging over to Red. "Hey, we're coming back, we just have a target in mind."

Red regards you silently. Cam giving you a worried look from his back.

Trying again, "Come with us, we're almost there, report back to Negan that you found us and come with us. If either of us tries to cut and run you can shoot Cam in the head," giving your best winning smile. Cam grunts something around the rag in his mouth, while you flip him off.

Red stands, handing you a walkie. "You tell him."


Taking the walkie, unsure what the fuck you are going to tell Negan. Feeling like a kid caught out past curfew.  Sighing, walking to the front of the truck, glaring at the writhing walker strapped to the hood. Taking a deep calming breath, counting to ten as you let it out. Clicking the button.


waiting, eyes shut... no response. Fear coiling in your belly.

Click, "Negan...."

The walkie crackles to life, "Well, holy fucking shit, doll, you better have a God damn good reason to disobey my fucking orders."


Signing, "Look, we're coming back... We just have a specific target in mind. We'll be back tomorrow morning..."

"Excuse me? A specific fucking target that's two fucking days away. I specifically told you to be back last fucking night."

"I know," shutting your eyes, willing him to understand, "Shit, I know Negan, I swear to you it's worth it. Please, I wouldn't risk this if it wasn't worth it."

"I look like a fucking asshole, finding out that you, not only disobeyed a direct fucking order, but you slept in a truck with another man wrapped around you all fucking night. That shit is not cool. You're gonna find out how not fucking cool that is."

"Wait, what?" Anger creeping into your voice,  "Negan, I'm not out here fucking my friends! We slept in the cab to stay warm, it's colder than a witches tit out here, at night. Are you fucking kidding me right now? You're mad I spent the night away from the sanctuary with another man's arm around me to keep me warm? I'm not your fucking wife, Negan."

"Doll, let me break this shit down for you, when you get back here, you are gonna learn your fucking place. And I swear to Christ, if the haul you fucknuts bring in is anything less than exceptional, one of your fucking friends is gonna get real up close and personal with Lucille. Have I fucking made myself clear?"

Gritting your teeth, "Crystal."

"Good, give the walkie back to Red."

Stomping back to Red, practically throwing the walkie in his face. Pitt is finishing cutting Cam loose. "So, that went well," he jokes rolling his eyes.

Kicking out the fire in frustration, pacing in anger. "If we don't score big he's gonna kill one of us."

Cam snorts, "If we don't score big he's gonna kill Pitt, Red didn't find me with my arms around you last night."

"Fuck off Cam, where were you during my watch? With your fucking arms wrapped around her. Don't be an idiot. Trust me, he already knows."

"It doesn't fucking matter, let's just get what we came for, we know this place is a good score. It will be fine." Determination runs through you as Red walks back up to your group.

"Are you coming with us?" Cam questions. Red nods, he's never been much of a talker.

Sighing in reservation Pitt gestures to the truck, "Fine, everyone in, we'll prep it when we get there so it's fresh."




Rolling to a stop down an overgrown back road at a large fence, you hop out with lock picks while Pitt and Cam finish prepping the truck. Red stands observing everything silently. Before you stands a large warehouse. It had been a distribution center for Costco's before the world turned to shit. Cam and Pitt used to work there. A large herd of walkers roaming the parking lot. You quietly start picking the multiple locks securing the fence while Pitt and Cam get busy smearing the truck in walker guts from two of the bodies. Climbing into the bed with Red, Pitt drives through the gate Cam holds open. He closes it before jumping into the cargo bed too.

Driving slowly through the herd, the walkers hardly paying the truck any attention thanks to the stench of death that clings to it. Pitt parks next to the tall wall near a drain pipe and rotting dumpster. Pitt squeezes out the back window of the truck while Cam uses the drain pipe to scale up the side of the building, Pitt following, both have packs on their backs. "You going to follow them or wait for the rope?" inquiring over your shoulder, digging your knife into the belly of the last walker in the cargo bed.

Red silently watches as you smear blood and guts over your arms, face, pants and shirt before kicking the walker out of the bed onto the asphalt. A rope drops down and you grip it. Climbing up the wall, grunting in effort when you reach the top, pulling yourself over the ledge. "Fuck you stink," Cam wrinkles his nose.

"Good, hopefully I'll be in and out before they notice."

Red climbs over the ledge onto the roof, looking a bit squeamish. Pitt is pulling things out of the pack, getting things ready. He hands you a harness that you pull on quickly, checking the straps. Cam is organizing coils of rope into big plastic milk crates that were stored on the roof. Crouching down, working the lock to a door on the roof, smiling when you hear the lock click. Pulling the door open, propping a cinder block, waiting for Pitt's orders.

"OK, let's take this nice and easy. Tess, you're gonna be a lone wolf down there, be careful and don't take any stupid chances. We want to be in and out. Cam we need to stay alert and make sure her ropes are tight. Red.... don't get in the way."

Cam and then Pitt silently stepping up to you. Holding your face, bowing their foreheads into yours, Saying silent prayers to whatever Gods they believe in. Pulling a black bag onto your back, following them into inky gloom of the stairs, Red bringing up the rear.

The stairs end in an office above the main warehouse floor. On an earlier visit the rooms had been searched and cleaned of walkers. Stepping out of another door onto a catwalk in the main room, hazy light filtering in through dirty windows that wrap around the perimeter.  The catwalk makes a loop around the room and one narrow run down the middle. All the stairs down have been blocked or destroyed. You can hear them shuffling around on the floor.

Resting your hands on the metal safety rail, surveying the room, mentally planning your approach. Pitt's big warm hands rest on your shoulders, squeezing lightly. "Ready?"

"Yeah, I'll start with the heavy stuff, the liquor," nodding toward the far end. Cam nudges your shoulder as he walks by with milk crates, "I'll get these ready for you."

Following him down the walk, approaching the rail as Pitt finishes securing the rope. Attaching your harrness, climbing over the rail, Red is starring into the pit below, jaw clenching. "Negan wouldn't like this," looking at you grimly.

Shrugging, "If I don't make it out, send him my regards." letting go of the rail, bracing your feet on the walk. Grinning at Red, blowing him a kiss before jumping off the ledge, repelling downward into the gloom.

Slowing your decent as you reach the top of the stock shelves, landing gracefully. Looking up you can see three heads starring down at you. Flashing your light up twice you see a crate lowering over the side. Searching around the boxes waiting, finding what you're looking for nearby. Groans from walkers as they hear you rustling around. Pulling the crate closer and loading it up with Champagne before wiggling the rope to let them know it's ready to pull up. Following this process you send crates of various liquors, wine and beer up. Always keeping an ear out for danger below.

Grabbing a new rope, swinging across two shelving units to the toiletry area. Walkers shuffling past, growing more agitated by the noise your making but unable to find the source. More crates come down and you're loading soap, shampoo, lotion, conditioner.  Another area is all canned goods, cereals, pasta. The final area is the over the counter medicines, Tylenol, Ibuprofen, Advil, Nyquil, Decongestant, allergy pills. Grabbing everything within reach. 

The pharmacy is in a locked area off the main floor. You've never raided that area, It's locked and there are too many walkers to worry about on the floor. Plus, you wouldn't know what you were even looking at. Starring at the locked doors for a long time biting the inside of your cheek, considering the lock. Weighing how fast you could pick it. Glancing up, three heads are visible starring down at you. Shifting position, unhooking the harness.

"Tess," Pitt's voice hisses from above.

Pausing, swinging your leg over the ledge, easing yourself down.

"Tess!" more urgent.

Ignoring them, breathing deeply, lowering yourself down a little farther.


A bottle explodes on the concrete floor, startling you. Shuffling from below, agitated groaning walkers stumbling toward the noise. Clinging to the shelving in frustration, knowing exactly who threw the bottle from above. There's no way to scavenge the pharmaceuticals now. Climbing back up, grumbling to yourself, "Stupid overprotective pain in my ass, throwing fucking bottles...Could have fucking fallen, fucking dick."

Standing and stretching your lower back before signaling them to drop a rope for you to climb by flashing the light three times. Quickly ascending and breathing a sigh of relief once you grasp the top rail again. Hoisting yourself over laying on the floor of the walkway. The men carrying various crates out onto the roof. Someone drops a bottle of water on you. Sitting up, draining it in one long pull.

Forcing yourself to stand, walking back out into the blazing sun, blinding you. It's only mid-morning. Walking over to the barrel that collects rain water on the roof, peeling off your clothes, stripping to your bra and underwear. Noticing Red glowering at you until Pitt defensively steps into his eye-line, blocking you from view. Red descends the rope, helping Cam load the truck. Pitt tosses you a bar of soap from the raid. Cleaning your skin, splashing water with a cup, rubbing with soap before pouring fresh water, rinsing. Dumping cups of water over your head, eyes closed, water dripping down your hair and body, stripping off your now soaked bra and panties. Hand washing your clothes as best you can, knowing it isn't sufficient, but enough. Shivering in the cool breeze, jumping as Pitt lightly brushes his fingers up your bare back, handing you his shirt, unsettled eyes glancing away from yours, "We'll dry your clothes out the window while we drive." 

"Thanks," smiling gratefully, pulling it on, still warm from his body before heading to the rope.

Climbing down into the cargo bed, sliding into the cab through the back window. Red is waiting in the front passenger seat, frowning at your attire. Cam slides in next ruffling your hair, joke falling easily from his lips, "A haul like this, maybe you won't wind up on your knees after all," taking up the driver's seat. Rolling your eyes while smacking him on the back of the head, earning a chuckle. "I'm still available if you want to practice."

Smirking, "In your dreams, idiot."

"Every night," mischievously winking at you in the rear view mirror.

Pitt climbs down the drain pipe, rope over his shoulder. Perching on the haul while Cam edges forward, avoiding the lumbering walkers. Pitt jumps off near the gate, pulling it open. The truck ambles through and Pitt secures all the locks before climbing into the cab next to you.

Finally breathing easier now that the task is done, knowing it was a good haul. Red directs Cam to his truck. Pitt pulls your back against his bare chest, one arm securing your waist, his shirt pulling high on your thighs. Stroking your hair with the other hand, "You did good, rest up baby, I got you." contentedly closing your eyes, feeling protected, his familiar scent filling your nose, mind drifting to sleep.   

Waking, jolting to a stop at Red's truck. Pitt gives you one final squeeze before releasing you. Cam nonchalantly tossing your, now dry, clothes into the back. Pulling them on, handing Pitt back his shirt, "How long to get back from here?" asking Red, Cam and Pitt jumping out, distributing part of the haul into Red's truck.

Looking at the sky considering. Red clicks the walkie and your heart fills with unease, "Tell Negan, we're headed home, back by dusk."

Chapter Text

The trucks rumble up to the sanctuary, rain falling in sheets. Your stomach flipping, seeing Negan and his saviors waiting just inside the gates, knowing Red must have tipped them off to your arrival.

The gate slides open and Pitt pulls the truck in. Taking a deep breath moving to open the door. It flies open, harsh hands grabbing you, throwing you to your knees between Cam and Pitt, gun digging into your skull in front of Negan. Rain running into your eyes.

Negan regards your group with cold dark eyes. "Well, look who finally made it back. I hope your run was worth it, your fucking lives depend on it."

Saviors swarm the trucks, laying everything out for Negan. He walks a few paces away speaking to Red, head bending in thought, gloved hand stroking his scruffy chin, frowning while Red fills him in with details from your trip. Biting your bottom lip nervously, glancing at Pitt and Cam on either side of you. Both have grim faces, staring straight ahead, the gun barrel pushing forcefully into your skull warns you to keep your head straight.

Negan pats Red on the shoulder dismissing him. Strolling over, inspecting the haul, occasionally stopping, pawing through a box. Rain soaking through your clothes making you shiver, icy steel barrel digging into your skull, rocks digging into your knees, your nails digging into your hands. Silently willing him to be satisfied. Giving a nod to his saviors, they immediately start carrying everything in.

Negan turns slowly to regard your pathetic trio. Shaking his head, rubbing his chin, "Fuck, I gotta say, I'm a little disappointed."

Pitt and Cam stiffening on either side of you, their lives hanging in the balance. Dread grips you. 

"You fuckers broke the rules. Didn't come back when told. And for what?" Gesturing to the haul. "You know what happens when you break the rules. Lucille," aggressively swinging her down in front of your faces, "She's a stickler for the rules. Now, I've had a lot to think about, considering who will have to pay the fucking price," jabbing Cam and Pitt threateningly in the chest with Lucille. Your stomach rolling. 

Kneeling down in front of you, gripping your chin, forcing your head up to look into his cold eyes. Your body convulsing in terror, eyes blinking rapidly in the rain. Running his thumb along your bottom lip, lowering his voice, "I considered making you choose, thought if you had to lay a fucking death sentence on one of your friends, might teach you a fucking lesson, might finally get through your thick skull who's in fucking charge here."

"Negan, I..." He pushes a finger over your mouth, silencing you, studying your face. 

"Shhhhhhh, I'm not done talking, sweetheart... So I suggest you Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Pressing a kiss to your temple, a single tear slips from your eye, choking down a sob. Standing back up, pacing back and forth.

"I mean, Jesus. You fuckers would need to pull off some kind of fucking haul to keep your God damned heads off the chopping block." Shaking his head, pacing. Lucille swinging like a pendulum, back and forth.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Time to die.

Laughing, "I gotta tell you, after talking to Red, you fuckers are fucked up. You turned a fucking walker into a hood ornament! Shit! Even I'm not that fucked up. And then you drive in here, with a metric fuck ton of supplies. I can't believe it." Pacing, rubbing his chin, laughing to himself.  "I was really looking forward to bashing one of your skulls in.... Lucille, was really looking forward to bashing one of your skulls in..." Pausing, swinging a practice swing, the bat barely missing Pitt's head. "I really don't like disappointing Lucille. And now? NOW, I have to let you fuckers go, because, not only did you pull in one fucking hell of a supply run BUT... Red, he tells me  there more... That there's a shit ton more just fucking waiting to get scavenged." 

Your shoulders relax. He's not going to kill you, or your friends. Head sinking in relief.



But? But what? Tensing up. Preparing yourself for the worst. 

"You fuckers DID break the rules. So, I think a little time in the cells will fucking teach you a lesson." Gesturing extravagantly with his hands. "Teach you to be punctual." Snapping his fingers at the men behind you, "Get em up boys, take them to the hole."

He saunters off without another word, whistling, Lucille riding high on his shoulder. The gun immediately leaving your head, hands dragging you to your feet, rain running into your eyes as you follow Pitt and Cam into the factory shivering.



Lurching through the doors, stopping short when Lucille is suddenly in front of you, blocking your way. Glancing nervously to the side, Negan's sly smile regarding you. Stepping closer, pinning you between the wall and his guard. "Fuck off Tyler, I can take care of things from here."

Stepping closer, until your back is pressing into the wall, lowering his voice. "So what's the fucking deal with you and your boyfriend?"

"What are you talking about? My husband is...."

Cutting you off, "You're husband's dead but Red told me how comfortable you are with that fucking prick, Pitt." Laughing a little to himself, eyes scanning your body, stroking your face with his gloved hand, "Sleeping with him in the truck. Taking your clothes off in front of him." Hand causally resting on your throat, his voice dripping with ire, "wearing his fucking shirt." Hand squeezing your throat in warning, "Letting him hold you, again, while you napped..." 

"Jesus, Negan, he's my friend." Trying to push his hand off your throat.

Menacing laugh, "You really think I'm gonna believe that shit? Thing is, doll, I don't like to share. I have friends too, and I'm not fucking cradling their asses while they sleep." 

"It's not like that, Negan."

"Sure it isn't, doll."

"You don't own me, Negan."

"You know what? Maybe I'll go bash that fuckers skull in anyway." 

He turns to walk down the hall, desperately grabbing his arm, "NO! Wait! You can't!"

Turning back to you impatiently, eyes dark seeing the panic on your face, "I don't like being lied to. So you better give me a God damned good reason to not trust my instinct and beat his head into a bloody pulp."

Pulling his arm until he is standing in front of you again. Reaching out toying with the zipper on his jacket, "We grew up together, next door." Taking a shaky breath, "my parents had problems. They argued a lot. Drank too much. Got into fights. They would beat the shit out of each other... Sometimes one of them would come after me."

Biting your lip. "Our bedroom windows were across from each other. One night my Mom came in and slapped me around. She was drunk. She only took a few swings before she left, no big deal."

"Later that night my Dad came into my room, started screaming at me. Calling me a worthless little whore. Said he wished I had never been born, hit me, backhanded me square across the cheek, so hard I hit the wall. He just laughed. Told me to think about my sins, that he would be back to finish what he started." Glancing at up, Negan's eyes glowing in fury, jaw tight. 

"When my Dad left I went to shut my blinds, Pitt was at his window across from me. He knew. He had seen the whole thing. I could hear my Dad coming back. I panicked, I climbed out of the window and used the tree between our houses to get to his. He took me in, kept me safe. I slept in his room that night. After that, if my parents started fighting I would climb across to his window, even if he wasn't home he left it unlocked for me." Whispering, "Please, don't hurt him." 

"You're parents sound like pieces of shit." Sighing heavily, "Fine, I'll give that worthless fucker a pass for tonight. BUT He needs to learn to keep his hands to himself. I protect you now."

Exhaling, shutting your eyes, leaning your head against his chest. "Thank you." 

"You know, we could make other arrangements," brushing his hand seductively up your arm. "How would you like a hot shower, food, a warm bed?" His hand lightly strokes up your throat to your face, causing you to flinch, your stomach fluttering in anticipation, tingling between your legs. "Give you a chance to show me how sorry you are, for letting another man touch you."  Smirking at you, biting his lip. 

Starring transfixed at his mouth, exhaustion draining you from cowering in the rain. "In exchange for what?" Not meeting his eye, you already know. "What about my friends?" 

Chuckling deeply, "Their in cells no matter what, darling, the question is, where are you spending the night." His hand sliding down your stomach.

You Squeeze your thighs together in frustration causing him to hum in approval. Swallowing thickly, hating how slow your mind is working, hating the desire coursing through you at his words. Biting your lip, looking into his eyes and he sees it. You know he sees it, the temptation. "Last chance to back out, princess."

Clearing your throat, pushing desire aside, "The cells."

Sighing, "Have it your way, sweetheart." Large hand gripping your hip, your eyes closing at his touch, whimpering, already regretting your choice. "I don't know why you're fighting this..." Gripping you by the back of the neck, pushing you forward down a dark stair that you didn't know existed.

Leading you down into a musty hall, a bare bulb blinking sporadically, dread pooling in your stomach with every step. Trudging farther into the gloom to the last cell. Standing you in front of the open door, his hands on your shoulders.

The cell is tiny, bare. Concrete floor and walls. Nudging you toward the dank hole. You Instinctively press back away from the door and into him. Shaking your head in dread. His breath on the back of your neck, "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, doll, you already made your choice."

Turning to face him with pleading eyes. He smirks at you, "Don't be scared."

Leaning down, hand lifting your chin, brushing a gentle kiss on your forehead, calming you. Stroking down your neck, feeling yourself easing into him. Suddenly, shoving your shoulders backward.

You're tripping, falling to the cold hard ground in shock, shivering in your damp clothes. Negan's imposing silhouette framed in the door, his deep voice, "It will all be over soon."  

Door clanging shut...

Chapter Text

the door clangs shut and you crawl, slumping in the corner, laying your head back against the wall, eyes shutting. The only light filtering in through a small window in the door. Your head is pounding. Groaning while curling into a ball on the floor. Pressing your face into the cold concrete, hoping it eases the pain shooting through your skull, waiting for sleep to come.

Yells from down the hall sending jolts of panic through you. Just as your raising your head, the door flies open, ice cold water pouring over you. The door slams shut again, hollow boom echoing through your tomb. Music is blaring through the hall sending ice picks of pain through your pounding head. Covering your ears, shifting position trying to block out the sound. Your body feels stiff and bruised. Moaning into the concrete floor, praying for it all to end. 

Shivering in pain and exhaustion your body heaving, puking onto the floor in front of you. Laying down next to the steaming sick, eyes rolling into your head as you loose consciousness.  


The music suddenly cutting off, loud bangs from down the hall jolting you awake. The door flies open, stabbing light into your eyes. Another bucket of ice cold water pouring over you. Washing your vomit away but reducing you to a shivering mess in the corner once again. Standing on shaking legs, trying to peer through the small window to only see darkness with the occasional flickering of light from down the hall. 

"Hello..." calling out, wondering if anyone can hear you. Banging on the glass with the flat of your hand, "Anyone there?" 

Something colliding with the door hard enough that is shakes. Startling you backward into the gloom, hands covering your ears, landing hard on your hip as the clang reverberates around the tiny room. The music starts up again, tearing through your mind. It's impossible to concentrate, to form any thoughts.  

Stripping your shirt off with numb fingers, hoping to squeeze the water out. Dripping it into your dry mouth, sucking on the fabric hoping for some relief. Praying for someone, anyone to come let you out of the cell. Fingers nervously picking at your scared wrist, not even noticing the blood weeping from the scab you opened while you rock back and forth mechanically, silent tears dripping down your face. The noise is maddening. 


At some point you must have passed out again because a third bucket of ice cold water raining down on you jerks you awake. It's impossible to tell time. Sleep and wakefulness blending together until you are unsure what is reality. Wondering how long you have been down in the hole, how long you will be kept there. Whimpering, pressing yourself into the corner. Wondering how much longer you can hold it together. 

After five minutes, maybe five hours, the lock slides open again and you're cowering in trepidation into the sudden light. Someone is standing there but you are unsure who. Your only defense is trembling, praying they aren't here to throw more water on you. 

"Had enough?"

It's Simon.

Wincing, starring mutely with wide eyes, unable to speak.

"Come on, The Boss wants to see you" Grasping you by the bicep pulling you to stand, catching you when as you're stumbling into his chest. Pushing you off, propelling you down the hall.

You're dimly aware of people starring as he pulls you through the building. Feet shuffling to keep pace with Simon's larger strides. He takes you to your floor and pushes you roughly into your locker room. "Take a shower and be quick about it, he doesn't like to be kept waiting. I'll leave clothes out for you."  

Moving into a shower stall, peeling off your grimy clothes, sighing as you slid into the warm water. Massaging shampoo through your scalp, rubbing soap all over your body, trying to relax the tension running through you by sheer force of will. Finishing quickly, not wanting to break any more rules. Hastily pulling on the tank and boy shorts Simon left out for you. Dirty clothes and boots missing. Padding out into the hall bare foot to see Simon leaning against the wall.    

Stammering, "DddddDo you know what he wants?"

Simon smirks, "There's only one way for you to find out, princess."

Sighing in reservation, walking down the hall, too weak to fight. Hoping whatever Negan wants it's fast so you can find something to eat. Lack of food is making you light headed and dizzy. Walking up the door Simon knocks twice. "Enter," Negan's muffled reply.

Wrapping his hand firmly around your bicep, Simon marches you in, not letting you kneel until you are directly in front of Negan at his desk. Collapsing to your knees at his feet, head bent, hearing the door clicking softly shut, knowing Simon is gone. Negan sits in his big leather chair, legs spread wide, regarding you quietly. Your eyes staying on the carpet, his shoes, the scuff on the right toe, trying to memorize every detail, trying to stay grounded in reality. Your stomach growls and you're squeezing your eyes shut trying not to sway on the spot.


Your eyes flying open, mouth watering, as he slowly chews a bite of apple. Juice glistening on his lips and beard. A slow grin creeps across his face. Raising an eyebrow as he takes another large bite, juice running down his wrist. You're staring, transfixed by the apple, involuntarily licking your lips. Giving a deep low chuckle, "See something you like, doll?"

Glancing at him nervously and then back at the apple. A sound of longing slips out when he moves it marginally toward your mouth. "Want a bite?" he asks teasingly. Reaching a tentative hand out to grab the apple he pulls it out of reach, clicking his tongue. Gripping your chin, leaning in, he turns your face to his, "What do you say?"

"Please," begging, eyes straining to the side looking at the apple, practically panting at the juice shining on his fingers and wrist. Slowly he brings the fruit closer to your face, jerking it away when you try reaching for it. Smirking at your whines of frustration as he takes another bite. Glancing at his eyes, he's staring at your face, eyes dilated, a predator eyeing his prey. "Negan... please," shuffling slightly forward on your knees, closer to him and the apple, begging him with your eyes. The apple moves closer again and you're whimpering, resisting the urge to snatch it out of his hands. He brings it to your face, brushing the glistening fruit against your lips, pulling it away again when you open your mouth trying to take a bite. Moving closer, licking your lips, almost in his lap your hands resting on his thighs, pleading eyes staring at the apple as he takes another bite.

Moving the apple to the other hand while extending his juice covered wrist toward you. Biting your lip, nervously glancing between him and his wrist. His eyes are dark, penetrating. Juice glistening seductively. Opening your mouth slightly, he gives a deep hum of satisfaction as you tentatively lick his wrist. The sweet juice bursting on your tongue. Closing your eyes a soft sigh escaping as you continue lapping the juice. "Mmmmm, Good girl," he praises you, his eyes on fire. Grasping his wrist, sucking each finger clean, moaning with desire as you swirl you tongue around each finger, heat pooling between your legs. Pouting when he pulls his hand free.    

Laughing darkly, "Patience, sweetheart, patience." He brings the apple to your face again and you're closing your eyes, feeling on the brink of insanity, the sweet aroma filling your nose, mouth watering. Opening your eyes, starring into his as you're slowly opening your mouth leaning forward, silently begging him to give you a bite. Smirking he brings the fruit closer, finally allowing you to sink your teeth in, shutting your eyes and moaning, bringing your hands up, greedily gripping his hand and wrist holding the apple, feeling your legs give out at finally getting a taste.

"Whoa, easy, easy," pulling the apple and his hand out of your grasp. Surging after it, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into his lap. Desperately reaching toward the apple, pushing yourself into him while he easily holds it out of your reach chuckling to himself.

"Please," begging him, biting your lip, "please, just one more bite." You can tell he is enjoy this, the rush of power while you're squirming on his lap begging.

"Shhhhh, calm down, darling. You'll get the apple, we just need to work a few things out."

Settling on his lap, noting his eyes wandering over your body, feeling a mix of trepidation and desire shoot to your core. Locking eyes with you he grins, bringing the apple to your face, allowing you to take another bite, closing your eyes in ecstasy. "God fucking damn, If this is how you act I'm gonna have to be in charge of feeding you all of your fucking meals."

Swallowing, looking at him nervously, biting your lip. "Want another bite?" He offers you the apple but pulls it away as you lean in. "Do you know why I threw you in that fucking cell?"

"Because we weren't back when you told us to be," looking down, fidgeting your fingers. He rewards you with a bite of apple.

"Who do you take orders from?"

"You." Another bite.  

"Who do you belong to?" Your brow creases looking at him. The desire in his eyes darkens and his hand slides up your back griping the scruff of your neck, you wince. "Who?" he demands, shaking you a little while he takes a bite of the apple. It's almost gone, just one bite left.

Whispering,  "You..."

"I didn't quite hear that, doll."

Looking him dead in the eye, clearing your throat, biting your lip, shifting on his straining pants "I belong to you, Negan."

"Good girl," he purrs allowing you the last bite, placing the core on his desk. He holds his wrist in front of your face again, juice from the apple hanging, shining in the fading light from the window, "Well, you gonna clean that up?"

Nervously you reach for his arm, pulling it closer, slowly licking his wrist, eyes closed, lapping at the juice. His breath hisses between his teeth, free hand gripping your hip, drawing you closer on his lap. Gripping your head he pulls you down, kissing you, tongue dipping into your mouth, causing your mind to swirl. Breaking the kiss you can see his face is flushed with desire. "Take your top off."

Hesitating. "You belong to me, you take orders from me." Kissing you deeply you moan, gripping his shoulders. "Do you like this?" he asks, biting your lower lip, sliding a large calloused hand up your thigh, your stomach clenching causing you to whimper.


"Do you want me to stop?" he whispers huskily into your ear, nipping it with his teeth.

"No..." barely a whisper.

"Then take your fucking top off, doll," he growls, kissing down your neck, sending jolts of electric down your body as he pinches a nipple through your shirt.

Body shaking you comply, lifting the tank off your body in one smooth motion, no bra on underneath. His dark eyes rake over your body, large hand cupping your right tit flicking the nipple. He's kissing you again, hands exploring, squeezing, sending your body into over drive. Licking and sucking your nipples causing you to arch into him moaning. His thumb running a strong line up your thigh stopping just before your core breaking off his kisses leaving you breathless.

"Well doll, I think we've made a lot of fucking progress here." You stare at him in confusion your hand on his belt. Chuckling darkly he leans forward nipping your shoulder. "I'm not giving it to you that easy, doll. Your gonna be fucking begging for it, desperate for it."

Staring at him wide eyed, wondering when his mind games will end. "Be a good girl and go lay on the couch, your sleeping in here tonight so I know you aren't running off to cuddle with one of your fucking friends. I decide if your warm from now on," His lip curling, "I'm gonna take this hard on out on one of my wives," gripping your hand placing it on his crotch. "Unless, of course, you wanna join the ranks," running his finger along the top of your boy shorts, your body quivering in response. Your reaction doesn't go unnoticed and he grins at you, licking his bottom lip.

Using all the will power you have left, "No, I, I'm fine. I don't want to be locked up in that room."

"Shame," he murmurs leaning in, licking along your bottom lip before nipping at it, your body arching toward him, "That room has it's perks."

You slide off of his lap shaking, pulling your top back on. Negan standing, crowding you, forcing you to press your body against in order to edge over to the couch. He follows, sitting on the coffee table looming over you as you curl up. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart," He leans in kissing your forehead, fingers lightly brushing at your erect nipples through your top, causing you to shudder, "We have more work to do tomorrow."

Your watch him leaving in confusion. The sun is setting. Shivering, glancing around the room for a blanket, finding none you curl into a ball trying to stay warm. At least the couch is more comfortable then the concrete floor from last night. It's not long before your unconscious.    


Chapter Text

Hearing a door close, disoriented and groggy. Negan is entering the office carrying a tray with food whistling. "Glad to see you're awake, you were passed the fuck out when I got back last night."

Almost falling off the couch in haste to bend the knee, Negan chuckles. "Nothing makes my dick twitch quiet like seeing a woman on her fucking knees." Looking up, stomach flipping at him staring down at you licking his bottom lip deep in thought. Shaking himself he turns back toward his desk, "I brought breakfast."

Hurrying to the desk, knees going weak at the site of eggs, bacon, toast, oatmeal, juice and coffee. Reaching your hand eagerly toward the fork until your wrist is caught in his iron grasp. "What the fuck do you think your doing?"

"You... you said you brought breakfast," your heart starts beating faster. 

"And why would you deserve a breakfast like that?" His grip tightening on your wrist and you know it will leave a bruise. "Only good girls get eggs and bacon for breakfast." He's pulling you around the desk by your arm, stony face regarding you. "Do you think you've been a good girl?"

Shaking your head nervously. "Do you know what happens to bad girls who break the rules?" You're standing in front of him, he drops your wrist but you know better than to take a step back.

"They get punished," your voice is barly a whisper but he hears you. 

A slow smile creeps up his face, not meeting his eyes, "That's right, they get punished. So you won't be breaking any more rules will you, sweetheart."

Licking your lips nervously, "I'll try not to."

"You'll try not to." Disappointment radiates off of him, "That doesn't instill a lot of confidence in me, doll. Trying doesn't get me the results I'm looking for."

"What are you looking for?"

"Right now, I want to see you on those pretty little knees in front of me," the the menace in his voice let's you know it's a command.

Sinking to your knees in front of him, he stares grimly at you before turning to his desk and eating, ignoring you entirely. The smell of his food is intoxicating. The gentle clink of his fork against the plate. After he has eaten his fill he smirks down at you. "Hungry?"

Biting your bottom lip nodding. 

"What was that? I didn't fucking hear you. I asked if you were hungry."

"Yes, Negan... please... can I have something to eat." Your face is burning in humiliation but you know fighting will only lead to a cell. 

A wolfish grin spread across his face, "It makes me hard when I hear you beg, darling. Since you asked so fucking nice," He holds his plate out to you but only remnants of food remain. Cocking his eyebrow at you, "You gonna clean that shit up?"

Frustration runs through you as you eagerly start licking his plate clean, knowing refusing isn't an option. The taste of the eggs and bacon make you wonder how many points it would cost to earn this feast. Negan groans distracting you from your thoughts mid lick. "Fuck, I love to see that tongue work." He drops the bowl of oatmeal on the floor in front of you. "Here, you earned it." 

"Do you have a spoon?" 

"A spoon?" Throwing his head back laughing, "Dirty girls like you don't need a spoon. Improvise... But you better make it fast. You're leaving with a group in 15 minuets and you don't want to be late."

Cursing under your breath you grab the bowl and start scooping oatmeal into your mouth with your finger. The bowl isn't very big so you're done too soon, left licking your finger and bowl clean. Negan smirked through the whole thing. "Jesus, you must have been hungry you hoovered it!" Winking at you, "I can think of something you can hoover later if your interested." 

Grabbing your chin so you look at him, "Now, darling, I love seeing you on your knees wearing next to nothing, makes me want to rip your clothes off and throw you onto my desk. BUT, I can't have you running around with my guys looking like that. Might give them ideas. So, being the stand up guy I am, I have something for you to change into."

He stands, walking into the other room, returning with a bundle of clothes and your boots. Grabbing for the clothes in his hands he pulls them out of reach. "Manners..."

"Please?" Reaching for the items

"I think you can do better than that, doll."

Taking a step toward him, "Please, Negan, can I have the clothes?" Another step and your pressing against his chest, running your hands slowly up to his shoulders while biting your lip, trying to tamp down the desire running through you. "Please," begging breathlessly, pushing up onto your toes. His free hand snakes around your back as he leans down kissing you slowly. Your mind going blank as your body instinctively molds to him. Whimpering into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his stubble scratching your chin.     

Pulling away from the kiss smirking, "Better hurry. Five minutes before you need to be at the trucks or you break another rule." Murmuring into your ear, "Then I'd be forced to punish you." 

When he pulls away you have to catch yourself on the edge of his desk so you don't fall causing him to give a deep chuckle. Ripping off you tank and boy shorts, pulling on the new clothes at lightning speed. You are relieved to see they aren't too reveling. Sliding on your boots and bolting for the door, while attaching a small knife at your belt. Dropping your head in shame when you meet the knowing eyes of the guard standing outside Negan's door. Hurrying to the stairs, down five flights and out into the glaring sun.

You're panting by the time you reach the trucks. Simon is causally leaning against the lead truck talking lowly to Dwight. Nick is by the second truck with two other men. Skidding to a stop, Simon glances at his watch, "Cutting it a little close, cupcake."

Holding your side, "Sorry, I was," gesturing vaguely while trying to catch your breath, nearly jumping out of your skin when a large hand clamps you on the shoulder. Negan's strong voice booming out from behind you.

"Gentlemen, you have a tag along today." Painfully squeezing the back of your neck. "You might recognize her as one of the numb-nuts that fucked up a few days ago. After spending some time in a cell she has assured me that she learned her lesson. You know what you have to do. Go out and find me some good shit. Make sure she doesn't stick a toe out of line," another painful squeeze. "Be back by dusk. I expect fucking results."

Trying to causally drift toward Nick's truck, Negan's hand catches you and propels you toward Simon's. Attempting to pull yourself into the back seat, freezing when Negan stops you. Leaning in whispering so close his mouth brushes your ear, goosebumps flooding your body, "Don't forget the rules, princess. I. Am. Everywhere." 

Shivering you pull yourself into the back seat. Negan bangs on the side of the truck twice and Simon pulls out. The gate opening so he doesn't even have to break speed. 




The ride is quiet. Thankfully Simon and D don't talk much and neither tries to converse with you. D seems content to glower out of the side window. You notice Simon glancing at you in the rear-view mirror laughing to himself making your blood boil, you're sure he knows what Negan has been doing. 

Finally after a few hours the truck pulls off into an upscale neighborhood. Simon winds through the streets ending at a cul-de-sac with four houses. You slide out of the truck refusing Simon's hand causing him to smirk. "How's your friend Laura? I saw her at the bar the other night. Think she's ready to upgrade from her pathetic husband to a real man?" 

Snorting at him, "A real man wouldn't have to go after married women." Marching away from him, his hand juts out grabbing your shoulder as he turns to address the gathered men.

"Alright, listen up," Simon addresses the group, "We're taking these houses in three's. Nick, Tyler and D, you take that blue house. I'll take the one next door with Tess and Russ. You know the drill, clear the houses before looting. No one take any stupid chances. Knives out, keep the noise to a minimum. If I hear a gun somebody better be fucking dead."

Nick tries to catch your eye though his whole speech. You can tell he wants to talk. You would prefer to be in his group but you doubt Simon will let you out of his sight.

Moving toward the two story house, Simon stays behind you with Russ in the lead. Pulling your knife out of your belt as you climb the steps to a spacious porch. Russ looks you up and down, assessing your small frame. "You ever do this before? I'm gonna knock on the door to attract them, I'll open the door and we'll finish them as they stumble out." 

You glance at Simon to see if he's serious. Simon quirks an eyebrow at you. Daring you to cause trouble. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you," Russ bristles, "I asked you a God damned question, I'm not getting my face eaten off babysitting a precious little snowflake that asked to play with the big dogs."

Straightening up glaring, shifting your shoulders, "Is that a fact?" Placing your knife back in its sheath on your belt.

"Tess," Simon warns.

Smirking at him, hefting a clay pot into your hands.

"Look Simon, I think the wittle snowflake got her wittle feelings all hurt." Russ sneers, "What are you gonna do with that big bad pot? You gonna hurt me with it?"


Grinning at Russ, "Knock knock..."

Russ looks at Simon confused, "Did Negan scramble her brains in that cell or something?" Simon takes a step toward you quickly, trying to grab your arm and stop what he knows is coming.

"Wrong answer!" Tossing the clay pot through the large window to your left, laughing hysterically when Russ stumbles back in alarm. The glass smashes with a loud crash, greeted by growls and shuffling from within. Quickly turning to kick out one of the posts supporting the railing. Grinning toward Russ, "Don't pussy out, isn't this what the big dogs do!" You swing the post smashing the face in on the first walker who makes it to the window spraying blood and brains in a wide arc. Russ stares bewildered while Simon kicks in the front door cursing. The next walker stumbles over the first, falling partially out of the window, reaching it's arms out for you in vein before you end it, bringing the post down on it's head again and again until it has been reduced to bloody pulp. 

Straightening up, flipping the hair out of your face, Russ seems shocked by what has transpired. "What?" Glancing behind yourself, "Do I have something in my hair?" Russ just continues to stare as Simon storms back out of the house.

"What in the holy FUCK was that? What did you not understand about keeping the fucking noise down and not taking stupid chances?"

Backing away from him Simon pursues you until he has your back pressed up against the side of the house hand around your throat pinning you to the wall. Lowering his voice, "Do you have any fucking idea what Negan would do to you if someone got bit during that little stunt?"

"What's he gonna do? Throw me in a cell and starve me again?" Grimacing as Simon squeezes your throat, shaking his head and laughing a little to himself. 

"You really do have more balls then brains. Try to understand, it's not just what he will do to you, it's what he will do to the people you care about." Fear shoots through you thinking of everyone back at the sanctuary from your old camp. "If you step another toe out of line, I will personally handcuff you inside the truck and deliver you back to Negan as part of the haul. Do. You. Understand. Me." 

Dropping your eyes in submission, "Yes."

He squeezes your throat one final time, "Good, get to work."

"Crazy fucking bitch," Russ grunts as you shoulder past into the house headed toward the kitchen.

"You have no idea," Simon mutters following you in.

Starting in the pantry you begin rummaging through sorting anything open and stale onto a separate shelf while placing the items worth taking onto the counter. The pantry contained several boxes of dried pasta, jars of sauce, a bag of rice, some cleaning supplies and plenty of canned vegetables and beans. You're disappointed to find only pots and pans in the lower cabinets. The upper cabinets contain mostly plates and glasses but your excited to find a stash of cake mix, brownie mix, chocolate chips and canned icing in the last one. Loading everything into a box you carry it to the porch.

Heading back in the main floor is almost done so you head up to the second floor, noting a trail of dried blood on the stairs and in the hallway. To the right is the master bedroom. Luxurious blood stained sheets are rumpled on the bed, a lamp smashed on the floor. Picking up a picture from the dresser, a smiling happy couple on their wedding day. The groom is leaning in smiling at his bride, her head thrown back, frozen in an endless laugh. Frowning placing the picture back face down. Opening the drawers, pulling out clothing that is still in good condition and tossing it into a pile of things to keep on the floor. Moving to the walk in closet as Simon enters the room. You can hear the sound of pill bottles rattling as he shoves them into a bag from the master bath. Flicking through the hanging clothes with disinterest, scanning for anything worth saving, occasionally pulling a warm sweater or pants since the weather has been getting colder. The back of the closet holds an empty gun safe. Cursing under your breath, grabbing the lone box of bullets. 

Moving out of the master and down the hall, the next bedroom must have housed a teenager, judging by the posters on the wall. Russ is emptying the linen closet in a bathroom. The next room is a home office that has already been searched. The final door is closed. Opening the door carefully your heart drops to your stomach. Swallowing thickly, closing the door, leaning your head against it trying to steady your breathing. Jumping when a hand clamps down on your shoulder, "You ok?" Simon questions.

"I found the gun," gesturing toward the closed door.

"What gun?"

Holding up the box of ammo, shaking it weakly. Nodding his head he moves to open the door, swinging it wide. The scene is grisly. A child's room. A decaying body in a toddler bed, head blown off, tucked in tight gripping a teddy bear. A woman in a blood smeared nightgown slumped on the floor, brains splattering the wall, one arm stretched across the bed toward the child, gun held limply in her other hand. "Jesus," Simon breaths. Looking at you he must see the panic and dread on your face, "Go outside, I'll take care of this shit and be right out."

Backing out of the door, turning you numbly walk out of the house and toward the trucks where the men are gathered eating and laughing. Sitting on the curb you stare at the box of bullets in your hand trying to figure out who is the lucky one, the dead woman upstairs or you. 

"Hey" Nick sits on the curb nudging your shoulder. "Are you ok? You want something to eat?" He holds out half of a sandwich. Glancing between him and the sandwich biting your lip, debating. He laughs at your conflicted face, "Come on, no strings attached, it's just a sandwich." 

Laughing with him rubbing your face, "God I'm getting paranoid, thanks Nick."

Reaching for the food stopping when Simon saunters past with a sing song voice, "Careful...."

Pulling your hand back like you were burned. "Actually, maybe I shouldn't." 

Nick looks between you and Simon, "Am I missing something?"

Giving him a reserved look, "Don't worry about it." 

"Search the next house with me. Our group already cleared the next two houses so we just need to go loot them before we hit the road again." Lowering his voice, "I'll sneak you a granola bar."

"I really don't think that's a good idea. Look, I'm sorry, ok?" Pleading with him, glancing over and seeing Simon watching your exchange like a hawk, "I just can't get into any more trouble right now."

"Simon has you on that tight of a leash?"

"I'm already on thin ice, I really don't need to give him another reason to punish me."

Sighing Nick stands, reaching a hand down to help you to your feet, "OK well maybe after we get back, we can grab dinner or something."

Standing, "Yeah, maybe," doubt coloring every word.

Nick glares at Simon with a tight jaw before dropping your hand and heading toward a yellow house with D and Tyler. You sidle up next to Simon, waiting for his signal to search the last house. The house isn't as fruitful as the first, but your happy to find a box of cigars and a few bottles of high end liquor in a game room. Walking out of the house a final time, dart board under your arm to load into the trucks, Nick falls into step next to you carrying a box. After loading everything he causally throws his arm around your shoulder steering you toward Simon's truck. "Don't worry, there are plenty of runs, Simon won't be on all of them. Let him think he won." Giving your shoulders a final squeeze, helping you into the back of the cab, winking as he slides a granola bar into your into your hand before shutting the door and walking to the other truck. 

Simon and D pile into the front. Simon looks at you in the rear view, "You did pretty good today besides the whole breaking a big ass window thing."

Letting out a breath, "Is there a punishment for breaking windows?"

Simon turns on the truck, "Guess you're gonna have to wait and see." 




When the trucks pull back into the sanctuary you hop out to unload, sliding the granola bar from Nick into your pocket for later, too scared to eat it in the truck. Your shaking from lack of food by the time everything is unloaded. Nick walks up grinning, "Want to grab dinner?" Seeing Negan approaching Simon you quickly agree hoping to avoid him, skirting around a truck out of sight, hurrying to get into the building without Negan noticing. He catches your eye just as you slip in the door, Nick's hand on the small of your back guiding you in. The look on Negan's face makes your blood run cold.

Following Nick to the cafe, hoping a public setting will stave off Negan's anger. Your standing in line when the door slams open, everyone drops to their knees and you keep your head bent, eyes focused on the floor. Boots echo through the room as he marches over, stopping in front of you. Flinching a little when Lucille breaks your eye line, coming under your chin, barbed wire digging into your chin, lifting your face up to meet his eyes. 

"Doll... You wouldn't be thinking of breaking a rule would you."

Shaking your head in fear with wide eyes.

Humming his approval Lucille is removed from your chin. Doing a little bow he gestures to the door with Lucille, "After you."

Slowly standing and slinking out of the door, aware of everyone's eyes on your back.

Negan doesn't say anything as he herds you back to his office. He simply follows you whistling, bringing Lucille off his shoulder stopping you from entering the forth floor hall, gesturing with Lucille to move up another level. Your skin is crawling by the time you reach his office.  

Entering your shoulders relax when he places Lucille on her stand by the door.  

He sighs, removing his leather jacket, placing his hand on your lower back leading you toward a door you had never been through. You jerk to a stop seeing a large king size bed filling most of the room. Chuckling darkly in your ear, "You haven't fucking earned that shit yet."

He leads you to a large bathroom. Pushing you inside. "Take a shower, I'll leave clothes out for you. After you're dressed come back to the office."

"Why did you bring me here, I could have showered in the locker room on the fourth."

Resting his head on the door frame biting his lower lip, smiling coldly as he slowly looks you over, "Do you really think it's a good idea to question my orders right now?" 

Dropping your eyes looking at the ground shaking your head. Hearing the door softly shut you turn to view the spacious bathroom. Dark slate gray tiles, a large walk in shower, fluffy black towels. Catching site of yourself in the mirror over the sink, blood splatters on your clothes, dirt and blood smeared across your face. Pulling your clothes off, dropping them on the floor near the door, turning the shower on. Chewing your bottom lip as the water warms up, wondering why Negan brought you to his office again. Feeling like a rat in a trap, no way out, but knowing giving into Negan could make the trap worse. Steam billows around you, clouding the bathroom.

Stepping in, letting the hot water sooth your muscles and relax the tension in your neck. Smelling in the scent of the body wash before squirting it onto a washcloth, it's woodsy, masculine, familiar. Lathering up, watching the blood and dirt swirl down the drain. When you are done washing scrubbing and rinsing your hair you almost feel relaxed. Resigning yourself for whatever Negan has in store for you. Confident breaking a window was your only offense.

Stepping out of the shower wrapping yourself in a warm fluffy towel, startled to find your old clothes missing and a small pile on the counter next to the sink. You hadn't even heard the door, wondering how long Negan had been in the bathroom with you. 

Quickly raking your hands through your hair, brushing your teeth before pulling on the new clothes. Dismayed to find only a lacy thong and a large black tee shirt. Pulling it over your head the shirt reaches mid thigh. Peeking out of the bathroom to find it empty. Negan's large king bed filling most of the room. The bedding looks inviting, soft and warm. Wishing you could cocoon yourself into the blankets and fall asleep, knowing you can't. Trailing a finger lightly along the foot of the bed as you step closer to the open door leading to the office.

Peering in Negan is sitting at his desk, head bent looking over some papers, seemingly deep in thought. His voice startling you, "Come in, doll, I know your there."

Padding in lightly, hugging your arms around yourself, "How did you know?" tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear.

Turning to look at you, removing his glasses, "I could smell you." Gathering up the papers from his desk, placing them in a drawer, pulling something else out that you can't see. Standing, his calm serious demeanor is making you more anxious than his normal aggressive anger or bullying. Walking toward you, eyes intent, "So, doll, break any rules today?"

"I... I broke a window."

"That you did. Going against a direct fucking order from my right hand man." Swallowing nervously, looking into his face with dread. Snickering to himself, absentmindedly playing with a wet strand of your hair, "Simon said Russ nearly pissed himself, wish I had been there to see it." Relaxing slightly at his words. "Anything else you want to confess before we begin? I'll go easier on you if you confess." His hand resting on your throat, gently stroking it with his thumb. 

The blood drains from your face, wracking your brain trying to think of another rule that you broke. The way he is acting, there must have been something. His eyes darkening with annoyance as you scramble for an answer. "Let me give you a hint," gripping the back of your neck, propelling you toward his desk, the granola bar sitting in the middle of it. He must have found it in your clothes.

He's pressing down on your neck, your hands catching on the desk, holding yourself up preventing your face from being smashed into the offending object. "I didn't eat it, Nick gave it to me I didn't even ask." Panicked, fear gripping you, cursing yourself for not giving it back or turning it into Simon.

"Simon tells me you almost shared a sandwich with Nick. Then, I found you in line waiting for dinner with him. Do I need to remind you? I. Feed. You... And... I don't like to share. I touch you. No One. Else."

"I didn't, I didn't eat it. He didn't touch me." Terror coming in waves. Will he throw you in the cells again, punish Nick. You should have warned him. If Nick gets hurt it's all your fault. 

"But he did touch you. He put his arm around you walking you to Simon's truck," venom dripping from his velvet voice. 

You're shaking in fear, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Negan. Please..."

Easing up on your neck you're finally able to stand, facing Negan. His grim face taking in your distress. He sits in his leather office chair, drawing you onto his lap, stroking your shoulder. "Shhhhhhhh, sweetheart, don't be scared." Gripping your chin, turning your face to his, "There's a few ways this can go. Option A, you share the punishment. You go back in a cell, same treatment as before, until I think you've learned your fucking lesson. I send one of my men to ruff up Nick's pretty little face." An involuntary tremor runs through you. "Option B, Nick takes all of the punishment and I throw his ass in a cell, I may or may not loose the fucking key. Maybe one day he gets out again. But you get away scot-free." He smirks as you wince. "Or there's my favorite. Option C, you take the punishment... Nick has nothing to do with it and after tonight, all will be forgiven."

Thinking over his options biting your lip, Negan's eyes slowly roam over you while gently stroking your arm. "Tick, tock, darling, I'm gonna need a fucking answer."

"What would my punishment be for option C?" 

He grins, "I guess you're gonna have to pick it to find out."

Clearing your throat nervously, not wanting Nick hurt, there's only one choice and he knows it, "Fine, C..."

"Hot diggity dog, this is gonna be fun!" Abruptly standing, sliding you off his lap. Reaching down removing his belt.

Panicking away from him, right hip colliding painfully with his desk. "What are you doing? Wait."

Snickering, "Baby doll, I already told you... You haven't earned that yet."

"Then why?" 

Snatching your wrist, jerking you toward him. You stumble into his chest. Negan twists your arms until your back is flush against him, both wrists held firmly in his left hand in front of your body while he starts looping the belt tightly around your wrists. Satisfied with your restraints he pushes you forward until your top half is pressed over his desk, arms pushed straight out, his hand pushing into the center of your back securing you to his desk. His hips are pressed against your ass and as he leans over your body. "Comfortable?" warm breath ghosting over your neck raising goosebumps. 

Struggling under his weight, "Negan..."

"Shhhhhhhh," soothing you, stroking your back and down your side, "The more you struggle the longer this will take." His hand wanders down your back, over your ass down the back of your thigh. "Not that I would mind." Squeezing your eyes shut tight in terror but feeling the first sparks of arousal. He slowly lifts the t-shirt up your back, exposing your ass, caressing it gently, giving a hum of approval, waiting for you to calm down.

Without warning he's roughly grabbing your right cheek before pulling his hand up a spanking you sharply. You buck forward in surprise gasping. "That's one." His hand grips your hip firmly, making sure you won't move before bringing his hand firmly down again. Expecting the hit you bite down on your lip, pressing your head into the table. "Two..." Your breathing heavy, anxiously waiting the next smack, face burning in humiliation. Grunting he delivers two more quick blows. Whimpering into the table, the leather belt chafing your wrists, your ass feels like its on fire. Moaning when he caresses the heated flesh, squeezing, "That's four." SMACK, you give a startled cry. "Five." Moving behind you he leans his body over you again, grinding himself into your ass,  you can feel his arousal, pulling on your hair forcing your head up and back, "Who do you belong to?"

Choking out your answer, "You, Negan, I belong to you." 

Nuzzling his face into your neck, "I fucking love hearing my name come out of your mouth." His teeth nip your neck and you're biting your lip trying not to moan. Sobbing as he releases your hair, heat throbbing in your core mixing with the pain, confusing your senses.

Straightening back up he moves to your other side, nudging your feet apart further with his foot. "God damn, seeing you like this I want to fuck you till you scream." His words causing you to squirm uncomfortably, trying to hide your arousal. Bringing his hand down on you with a sharp smack, chuckling, "It's alright, darling, I already know." Rubbing a callused hand down to squeeze at your inner thigh, snickering when you give a little moan. "Shit I fucking lost count, what is that? Six?" Smack. Smack. Smack. Stopping when you finally cry out. Gripping your hip firmly in his hand, "I bet you're getting nice and wet for me." Dropping your face to the desk in shame. Smack. "Ten," causing you to cry out again. Grunting he releases you. You remain bent on the desk, tears silently running down your face, afraid to move in case it's a trap.

Hearing him sit in the chair you slowly slide off the desk until your crouched on the floor in front of him. Shaking you crawl into his lap, hiding your face in his neck, restrained arms wrapping up to his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Negan."

His arms wrap around you, hand rubbing up and down your back, "I know, darling. You'll do your fucking best not to disappoint me anymore, right?"

Nodding your head against his neck, "Yes, Negan."

"Good girl." He stands, cradling you in his arms, walking over to the couch. Lowering you down, he kneels next to the couch, gently removing his belt from your wrists, kissing each one before releasing them, stoking your face and neck. "Go to sleep now, your safe." Leaning over you gently kissing your forehead before standing and heading for the door.

Rolling on to your back sighing. The more time you spend with Negan and the saviors the more off keel you're feeling. You need to figure out a way out of this mess before it's too late. Shutting your eyes to sleep. Sure that Negan has more games planned for tomorrow.   




Chapter Text

"Rise and shine, sunshine."

Groggily opening your eyes, sitting up, Negan's leather jacket slips off your shoulders. Pulling the leather jacket around you shivering. Negan is standing by his desk with a food tray. You slink over, stomach rumbling, hoping for more than a few bites of his leftovers.

"I'll take that back," he says, lifting the jacket off you. Crossing your arms over your chest, chilly air raising goosebumps on your skin. "I brought you breakfast and clothes. You know the fucking drill, can't have you running around my men like that today." Oatmeal and a large gleaming apple sit on the tray. Raising your eyebrow, Negan gives you a wink, "I know apples are your favorite."

"Do I have to beg today or can I just eat?" inquiring hesitantly.

"You can beg later." He walks into the other room whistling. You quickly scarf down the food. Negan Returns with a bundle of clothes and your boots. Handing them to you before sitting at his desk, looking over papers. "Get dressed."

Stripping off the t-shirt, pulling on the new clothes. Negan's eyes slowly surveying you when you turn back to face him. The top, so low cut, the lacy edge of the bra is showing.

Walking you to his door he grips your chin forcing you to look into his face, his body towering over your much smaller frame.

"Who do you take your fucking orders from?"


Smiling at you, biting his bottom lip, "Who feeds you?"


Humming approval for your answer, eyes lingering on your body, your stomach flipping as he slides his hand down your stomach to grip your waist, "Who kept you warm last night?"


Leaning down, rewarding you with a lingering kiss causing your mind to swirl. He has you pressed against the wall, one hand on your throat, bringing his mouth close to your ear, hypnotic voice, "Who do you belong to?" 

Squeezing your eyes shut, whispering, "You."

"Good girl," he growls, nipping your ear lobe, causing you to give a moan. Chuckling when you grip him for support,  "Go outside, wait by the trucks."

Bolting out of the door as soon as he releases you, running to the ground floor and out the doors into the early morning light. Hoping the fresh air will clear your head and calm beating heart.

A grin spreads across your face when you see Cam and Pitt standing with Nick at the trucks. They descend on you, hooting in pleasure, gripping you in bone crushing hugs causing Nick's posture to stiffen. Speaking to Nick from their pressing embrace,"any idea what we're doing today?" 

Releasing you Pitt slides his hands down your back holding you at arm length, hands on your hips, "Is this shirt new?" Pitt questions scanning your body with an appreciative glance, "I don't ever remember seeing you in it at camp." Clearing his throat, finally meeting your eyes, "why didn't you wear this at camp?"

Laughing nervously, brushing him off before Cam wraps his arm around your shoulder from behind, pressing his face into your hair. "You look good enough to eat," playfully snapping his teeth near your neck.

Nick grabs your arm pulling you out of Cam's grasp, face dark, positioning himself protectively in front of you, "Get your hands off! We're headed to an outpost today, for an inspection."

Pitt and Cam immediately puff up in anger, slowly approaching him on two sides. Like wolves circling their prey. An alpha and his beta. Cam steps nose to nose with Nick, Pitt crowding him from behind. Quickly sliding between Cam and Nick, pushing them apart, "Guys, stop." Trying to prevent a fight. 

"What the fuck is going on here?" Negan's voice cuts the tension like a knife. Everyone quickly dropping to their knees, heads down. "Here doll, I think you left these in my room last night." Your bag full of weapons drops heavily in front of you. 

Negan swaggers to the front truck, talking to more men while you start pulling weapons on, avoiding eye contact. How stupid were you to run all the way outside without weapons. How stupid were you to think Negan wasn't going to rub your sleeping location in Nick's face. Cheeks burning, Pitt and Cam regard you with scrutiny, Nick punches the ground in anger, stalking over to D.  

"You spent the night in Negan's room last night?" Cam questions.

"It's not what you think," stomach flipping.  

"Care to elaborate?"  

"I was taken to his office after the cells, to see if I learned my lesson about disobeying his orders. He's been having me sleep on his couch," rolling your eyes. "He's still pissed about the sleeping in the truck thing." Hoping your abbreviated version of events will satisfy them.

"Sick bastard." Pitt spits.

"Alright, mount up! Everybody in the fucking trucks!" Negan's voice booms, cutting off any further conversation. His eyes narrowing at Pitt and Cam flanking you, leading you to the second truck, sliding you into the cab between them. Arat slides into the front passenger seat and you can't help noticing her eyes lingering over Cam. Nick takes the driver's seat, glaring at you in the back, "Shouldn't you be riding with Negan?"

"Why would she," Pitt sneers.

Nick's shoulders tense, gritting through his teeth "She slept in his room..."

"She isn't fucking him," Cam snickers, resting a causal hand on your knee as Nick frowns gripping the steering wheel.

"What the fuck does it matter to you anyway," Pitt questions, wrapping a posessive arm around you, "You're not with Tess. Fuck man, you don't even know her."

"One wrong move she'll cut your balls off," Cam leans forward in the seat, whispering savagely, "You couldn't fucking handle her."

Pitt smirking, "She'd eat you alive, man."

"Like a fucking man eater," Cam declares darkly.

Nick starts the truck, shoulders tense, pulling out of the gate behind Simon's truck, grinding his teeth in irritation. 

Settling back into his seat Cam looks over at you snorting, "You hungry, huh?" Poking you in the ribs, "I got something for you if you need a snack," reaching toward his pants.

Rolling your eyes grinning, "Don't embarrass yourself. Nobody's interested in your fucking cocktail weenie dick."

Pitt pulls you closer to him chuckling, kissing your hair, loudly whispering, "I bet Nick is..." Raising his voice, "what do you say Nick, you wanna suck Cam's dick, show us all how a real lady does it?"

Anger rolling off Nick in waves. 



Arriving at the outpost you are relieved to get out of the truck and away from Cam and Pitt sniping at Nick. You're a little surprised Nick didn't attempt to beat the holy hell out of one of them the second the truck stopped. Arat, to her credit, seemed to find the whole ride amusing.

You Cower as Negan walks past, all business, Lucille up on his shoulder, barking out orders. D, Red and Nick following him inside. The rest of you to wait outside.

Sagging in relief that he passed without glancing your way. You're sure he will punish you for riding with your friends later. Hoping to  enjoy the small reprieve from his attentions, walking over to lean against the building, soaking in the sun. Arat leans against the wall next to you, "How long you been fucking those two?" Nodding to Cam and Pitt. Internally cringing, why does everyone assume your involved with Cam and Pitt?

"I'm not, their just protective." Her side eye tells you she doesn't believe you.

Rolling your eyes, "Look if you're interested, Cam will pretty much fuck anything that moves. And I mean anything. Pitt can be more picky. If you want a chance at something more than a one night stand, Pitt would be the one, he's loyal as fuck when he wants to be. You have my blessing."   

The door to you right opens and Nick sticks his head out, "Pitt, Negan wants to see you." Arat strolls over leaning against the wall with Cam offering him a cigarette.

Pacing back and forth, ignoring Arat flirting with Cam, fiddling with the knife on your belt. After what feels like an hour the door opens again. This time for Cam.

Sighing you resume pacing, the sun glare causing you to squint your eyes, wishing you had some water. Back and forth, back and forth, dirt crunching under your boots. It feels like an eternity. Your mind is spinning with possibilities about why you have been drug out to a remote outpost. You're convinced that Negan has brought you out here with Nick, Pitt and Cam with an ulterior motive. The door opens, "Tess, you're up."

Entering the dark hall waiting for your eyes to adjust. Nick nudges you forward. Stalling. "Do you know what he wants?" Butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Something about a warehouse."

Relief floods your body, it isn't more mind games. Entering the room a large drawing is on the table, Cam and Pitt are marking different areas into a crude map. "There's my girl," Negan strolls over, draping an arm around you, pulling you tight to his side, leading you to the table. "Alright boys that's enough, get the fuck out, go get something to eat." Pitt and Cam quickly leave the room, heads down, avoiding eye contact. D and Red lurking in the back corners, your stomach nervously flipping.

Negan turns to face you, sitting on the edge of the table, hands dwarfing your shoulders in his grip. "Now, I'm gonna bring someone in here and I want you to explain how you get the supplies. What equipment you use. How many walkers you think are down on the floor. Do you think you can do that, sweetheart?"

You nod.

"Good, this guy has seemed a little twitchy lately so keep your guard up. There's a reason I keep these fuckers at an outpost."

He walks to the other side of the table as the door behind you opens and a man enters. Medium build, long greasy hair falls across his weather beaten face, scowling at Negan across the table. Red and D are alert in the corners, hands hovering near their weapons. Eerie pale blue eyes turn regarding you causing you to swallow nervously. "This the girl?" He sneers, "She don't look like much."

"Doll face, fill Gary in on how you get the supplies. Be fucking quick about it."

His pale orb eyes stare without blinking. Clearing your throat, "We go in through the roof, I'll smear fresh walker guts on myself to mask my scent." At that he scans your body, tongue darting out moistening his thin cracked lips.

"Bet you smell nice," he murmurs to himself edging closer.

Glancing at Negan uncertainly, he rolls his eyes and gestures impatiently for you to continue. "I use a climbing harness and lines to repel down, ascenders when it's time to go back up. We destroyed all the stairs to secure the catwalk. Whoever you send down has to be a good climber. The men would lower crates on ropes, I fill them and they pull them back up. I use ropes to swing to the different areas. I try to stay off the ground. There are too many walkers on the floor to handle alone, a lot have hard hats on, makes them harder to kill."

"mmmmmfph." Making a noncommittal sound, rubbing his face. Finally, his eyes swing away from you toward Negan.

"See, I told you, easy pickings. We fucking head out, clear it out and we are sitting fucking pretty on a gold mine."

"What's in it for us? We do this, are you gonna improve some things around here?"

"Fucking, excuse me? Did I hear you, the fuck, right? Did I hear you making fucking demands on me?" Negan leans forward aggressively, tightening his grip on Lucille.

"This place is a fucking waste land, shit food, shit company," his eyes slide to the side, tongue darting out licking his lips again, "No women."

"Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Shit. Let me just send a pussy party your way because Gary is lonely. You want some pussy. Earn some fucking pussy. I don't give a shit. But when I tell you to jump, the ONLY mother fucking answer is, how high."

"Not anymore." Gary reaches into his belt and pulls out a handgun, aiming it directly into Negan's grinning face. You move without thinking, slamming your riot stick onto his hand, gun firing into the floor. Swinging the stick in an arc, whipping the back his legs, he falls to his knees cradling his broken hand. Stepping behind him bringing the stick under his jaw tight against his throat, locking him in place, ready to crush his windpipe at Negan's word.

Doors slam open behind you. Nick, Cam, Pitt and Arat rushing in, guns drawn. Negan grins at you, slowly clapping his hands. "Shit, doll. These other fuckers just pulled a gun on poor Gary, you shoved your fucking lady dick down his throat."

"What?" glancing behind you at Pitt and Cam in confusion.

"Jesus, it was a test. He was testing our loyalty," Cam laughs weakly, "What the fuck did you do?"

"He pulled a gun, so I..." you trail off, trying to understand.

Lucille under your chin startles you, bringing your attention back to Negan. "Doll, you can let Gary up now. I think he learned his fucking lesson, don't you?""

Clearing your throat, glancing down, Gary's face purple and bulging from your choke hold. Releasing him, he sags to the floor sputtering, coughing, thick ropes of saliva hanging from his mouth. Cradling his broken hand, glaring accusingly at you. 

"Now..." Lucille is brought to your shoulder, pressing down, barbed wire digging into your shoulder, "On your knees..." 

Sinking down to your knees, eyes wide, starring up into Negan's menacing face. This is it, you think. He's going to bash your brains in with Lucille in front of everyone for not following the rues. You broke one of his men's hands. Now you're really going to have to pay. He's done giving you chances to prove yourself.

"Now, sweetness, I'm going to ask you a question and there are only two mother fucking ways this can go. You either give me the right answer or..." Lucille is brought down in front of your face with a savage swing. "I think we can all agree we don't want to see the inside of that pretty little skull. Understand?"

Studying Negan's face with dread. His eyes are like onyx boring into your soul. No indication what is going to happen, what he will ask. Your stomach roiling in anxiety. Terrified. Resigning yourself to the fact that you're about to be punished in front of everyone. Wondering what sick game he has planned this time. 

"Understand?" His voice deepening in anger at having to ask twice, baring his teeth at you.

Cowering beneath the weight of his stare, finally choking out, "Yes. Yes, I understand."    

Gary has shifted position, sitting propped against the table, chin wet with spittle, eyes full of blood lust. Gawking at you. Eyes darting between you and Lucille.

Negan slowly circles you. Boots hollowly clomping, whistling. Coming to a stop in front of you. "Are you ready, doll, cause I'm only gonna ask this shit once..."

"Who. Are. You."

Swallowing hard, knowing there's only one answer, "Negan."     

A slow grin creeps up Negan's face. Lucille swings up to his shoulder. "Congratulations doll, you passed the test, you're in!"

You stare up at him blinking stupidly. Is that it? He isn't going to bash your head in for crushing Gary's hand? He isn't going to punish you or your friends for riding in the truck together?  

His hand takes you by the elbow, pulling you to stand. Leaning in, whispering loudly in your ear, "I am rock hard after watching you break Gary's hand when he threatened me," biting his bottom lip when you blush, desire shooting through you. Leading you away from the room, "I hope you didn't permanently fuck up his hand, then I might have to fucking punish you," winking mischievously at you. Negan leads you outside before walking off to make sure everyone is moving.

Standing next to the trucks waiting. Nick leans up next to you. "Hey, there's gonna be a celebration in the bar tonight. Negan always bankrolls the new saviors. Maybe we can finally that drink."

Letting out a breath, "So that's what this was all about? Testing our loyalty before making us saviors?"

Nick lets out a small laugh, "You know Negan, he loves a good show." 

"So what happens now that I'm a savior?" picking at your nails nervously. 

Nick laughing, "Pretty much what happened before. You take orders from Negan. There's a better point system. You get your own room on the fourth... Of course you already had that... We'll get to spend more time together, go on runs..."

"Wait," looking at Nick in alarm, "your room has been on the 4th this whole time?"

"Yeah," grinning at you, head resting against the truck, "All the saviors are."

"Then why do I never see anyone on the floor? That place is like a tomb?"

Nick opens his mouth to answer, but Negan strides over, cutting off your conversation. Gripping you by the elbow and leading you to the front truck, "Get in."

Turning to look at him, "But I rode in the other truck..." Hoping to get more answers out of Nick. 

"Get the fuck in the truck, doll." Directing you to slide onto the front bench seat before he follows you in, forcing you farther along the bench. Red climbs in the other side, sandwiching you between them.

Mumbling, "I can get in the back," shifting to climb over the seat, seeing D and Gary already there. Negan chuckling as you return to your seat beside him. He squeezes your knee, running his hand partially up your thigh, shooting electric to your core.

"Relax, doll." Grinning, biting his bottom lip, dimples showing on his cheeks. He knows the effect stroking your leg is having, "You're in good hands."

The trucks rumble away from the outpost...

Chapter Text

For the next hour and a half you sit rigidly in the seat. Red staring out of his window, oblivious to Negan's actions. Negan's hand ghosts up and down your leg, occasionally stopping to squeeze your inner thigh. Balling your hands by your side, biting your lip, doing everything you can to not react.  Negan hums to himself, nonchalantly tapping a beat on the steering wheel with the thumb of his other hand.

A bump in the road causes you to lowly moan, pressing your thighs together praying for release. Negan chuckles darkly beside you, gripping your inner thigh forcing your legs to spread for him again. Your body might explode, every nerve is on fire, face flushed, panties dripping wet.

"Almost there" Negan announces in a sing song voice, and you're not sure if he means back to the Sanctuary or the fact your close to cumming on his front seat.

Giving a shaky laugh when the Sanctuary finally comes into view. Negan smirks beside you but doesn't stop his incessant movements. Stroking up your inner thigh and brushing his pinky against your core just as the trucks pull through the gates.

Stopping the truck, Negan turns in his seat as everyone is sliding out, his hand catching your shoulder halting your hasty retreat, "D, get Gary to medical, I want a full report on his fucking hand."

"You got it, Boss."

Negan's large hand grasps your upper arm, pulling you backward out his side, door still open, blocking you from view. Crowding you until your back is firmly pressed against the grimy truck. You're panicking, needing to get away, terrified of giving in and what it will mean.

He chuckles to himself when his thumbs ghosting up your sides cause you to jump. Leaning in until his mouth is centimeters from yours, eyes boring into your soul, "Who owns you?"

Heart pounding, breathless, "You..."

"Who keeps you warm?"

Squeezing your eyes shut, blocking out his hypnotic gaze, "You..."

"Who feeds you?"


"Who gets to touch you?"

Opening your eyes, one large hand stroking your jaw, running down your throat, his eyes lingering down your body, voice shaking, "You..."

He grins at you, biting his bottom lip, a deep hum of satisfaction at your answer. "That's right, doll. Me. I'm the only one who gets to fucking touch you. I decide when you get off." Your rooted to the spot, afraid to breath, his hand sliding down your stomach, thumb brushing under the waist of your pants. Shifting uncomfortably, whining softly. Chuckling, "Mmmmm, I think we're getting close."

"Negan!" A panicked voice breaks the spell.

Negan's eyes darking in frustration, "What, for fuck's sake!"

The guard can now see you behind the truck door and he looks down awkwardly, "Sorry Sir, There's an issue at the west wall. Simon sent me to get you."

"This better be important or I'm gonna beat the holy fuck out of someone." Negan storms off, leaving you alone and shaking next to the truck.



Sherry is waiting in your room when you return after taking a cold shower attempting to cool the fire burning through your veins. Knowing she's one of Negan's wives you eye her in distrust. Sliding into your room, keeping your back against the wall, feeling like a feral animal next to her calm demeanor.

She smiles sympathetically at your response. "Negan sent me."


Gesturing to a tray of food sitting on your table.  "He wanted to make sure you ate, he always announces the new saviors to the community." She shifts uncomfortably on the bed, "Look, I know what he's doing to you. Unless he feeds you, you don't eat, and..." She trails off before shaking herself and continuing. "Just try to understand, he always get's what he wants. And there's always worse. He'll win. He always does."

"Yeah, Simon says the same thing."

She looks at you with a sad expression, "Because it's true."

Distrust wavering, sitting down to eat. Noticing another gleaming apple on your tray, your stomach drops. "Did he tell you to bring me this?"

Sherry cocks her head to the side, "He said they're your favorite."

Letting out a heavy sigh you staring at the offending fruit. Feeling lost. Wanting to throw the apple against the wall to watch it explode. Wondering where you're going to go from this point and not even sure if you have a choice.

Sherry clearing her throat breaks you out of the trance. "He also sent these for you to wear." Looking over you see clothes on your bed. Reservation clear on your face, chewing the inside of your cheek. "D told me about you... and Nick."

Jerking your eyes to her frowning. "Nothing happened with Nick."

Lowering her eyes, hands twisting in her lap, "I know, but there was interest there." Opening your mouth to argue Sherry raises a hand stopping you, "Even if it was only one sided. He will punish him. You. In ways you can't even imagine."

Dropping your head into your hands in frustration. "Why? I'm not even his wife. Why is he doing this? I feel like I'm going insane."

Sherry approaches your chair, resting a comforting hand on your back sighing, "Because he owns us all. You did something to catch his interest and now he won't stop until he breaks you. Until you give him what he wants, he will torment you. And once he has it, he'll use that to torment Nick and anyone else stupid enough to show him they care about you."

Standing, Picking up the tank Sherry brought, noticing a matching lacy pushup bra and thong. Snorting, "Christ, it's the apocalypse, no one has time for this frilly bullshit."

"It's not worth fighting him over it."

Groaning in reservation, changing into the new clothes, rolling your eyes at how low cut the top is, lace edge of the bra peaking out. "You know, if he doesn't want me to attract attention from other men, maybe something a little more discreet?"

Sherry gives an embarrassed smile, "I think it's more about rubbing their noses in what they can't have."

A knock on the door causes you both to turn, Nick peeks his head in, "Are you decent?" Sheepishly bowing his head, noticing Sherry. Clearing his throat, "Negan wants you in the main hall." Swinging the door open wider, Pitt and Cam behind him, eyebrows raising suspiciously when they see your clothes and visitor.

"That's my cue," Sherry slides out the door, pausing in the doorway, meeting your eye, "Remember what I said." 

Lowering your head, walking into the hall to stand between Pitt and Cam. Grinning Cam's arm slides around your shoulder, "We're neighbors!" Pointing to a door. "Pitt's three that way," jerking his thumb the other direction.   

Pitts fingers brush yours, glancing over, "You ok?" he whispers. Giving him a noncommittal shrug, Pitt nods brow furrowing, exchanging a look with Cam.  

Nick glares at Cam until he drops his arm from your shoulders, smirking at Nick. Jaw tight Nick turns, "Let's go," stalking down the hall. Following Nick, stopping in front of a door that leads to a catwalk overlooking a main hall. "Wait here, I'll get you when it's time."

Fidgeting with your tank trying to pull it up to cover yourself. "Tess, What's going on?" Pitt looking concerned.

"It's Negan, ever since..." you whisper twisting your hands so they stop shaking, giving a panicked look at the door leading to the catwalk. Cam squeezes your wrist, stepping slightly in front, partially blocking you from view, keeping a look out while Negan drones on to the community.

"The first night he made me beg for my clothes, in nothing but a nighty." Pitt's eyes narrow, "He took my weapons and when I wouldn't beg for them he had me kill six walkers in the assessment with a butter knife I stole from the cafe," His teeth grind together. "I promised him it would be worth it if he let me go scavenging and then he threw us in the cells because of how we slept in the truck," He swallows, rubbing a hand over his face. "Now I don't eat unless he feeds me, I only wear the clothes he gives me. He sent one of his wife's to warn me that he can make it worse if I don't give him what he wants." Pitt's are dark with anger, jaw clenching tight. "He runs this place, he owns us, I don't know what to do." Pitt's hand gripping your upper arm, fingers digging into the flesh.

Suddenly Cam steps back into place, staring straight ahead, Pitt drops your arm, face neutral. The three of you obediently step onto the catwalk and approach Negan who is standing larger than life with Lucille.

Dropping to your knees in front of him. "Here they are. The newest Saviors. Now, I know they haven't been here that long but these three... They are fucking impressive. They get shit done. They've learned to follow the rules. And the RULES... That's the shit that keeps us alive.... what keeps us," gesturing extravagantly with Lucille, "...civilized. I have high fucking hopes for what we are going to accomplish together. Now... " One by one he points Lucille into your faces.

"Who are you?"

 Cam, "Negan."

"Who are you?"


"Who are you.?"

Pitt, "Negan."

Rising, Negan surveys the three of you like a proud father, stroking his beard. "Today has been a productive God Damn DAY! Time to celebrate!" Dismissing the meeting, herding the three of you into the hall while the rest of the room disburses.

In the hall he faces your group. "Shit, why the long faces? The hard part is over!' Laughing, slapping Pitt on the shoulder. "So tonight the bar is open to you, drink whatever you like, I'll cover it. And you two are in for a real treat." Winking at Pitt and Cam, "Tonight the pussy bar is open. Pick any lady, as long as she is open to it, she's all yours for the night, I'll cover that too." Large warm hand coming down on your shoulder, goosebumps flaring at his touch, "And you, I might have something special planned for you too." Biting his bottom lip raising an eyebrow at you, your stomach flipping.

"Negan!" Simon hurries up, Negan's face darkening in annoyance. "Sorry, it's important."

Shaking his head in frustration. "It always fucking is." Glancing at your group, his eyes lingering over your form, "Go on, get out of here. I'll catch up later."        


Hurrying down the hall, Pitt grasps your upper arm pulling you into a dark room, jerking his head at Cam who dutifully takes watch by the door. Shutting his eyes, breathing deeply you wait, allowing him to process the new information. Jaw clenching, rubbing his hands over his face, pacing.

"Why didn't you tell us when we were on the road? We could've left. Slit Red's throat and fucking left."

Reaching out trying to calm him, "We couldn't leave without the others. What do you think he would do to them if we ran?"

"I don't give a shit," Pitt spits, "I promised him I would look after you, protect you."

"Our friends are the only people we have left. They're happy here..."  

"So what," Pitt snarls, "You take one for the team? Again?"

Sighing, pinching the bridge your nose in frustration. "What choice do I have? It's not like I can just climb out of my window to your house anymore."     

"I didn't want you out there that day." Pitt seeths.

"It wasn't your decision. We needed someone as bait, I'm the only expendable girl, you know that. If they blew my head off, you all would have held back and moved on with life."  

Pitt pacing in rage, "Fuck, FUCK!" Punching the wall.

Cam lunges at Pitt, pulling him away from the wall. Hissing, "Shhh, lock it down. We need to get going, they'll notice if we don't show up soon. We have to figure this shit out later." Pitt struggles against his hold. "We'll figure it out later," Cam states firmly.

"What about tonight?" Pitt glares at him. "He wants her tonight, you saw him."

"Hopefully Simon's bullshit keeps him busy. We'll run interference. Let the others know. Negan won't be able to get near her."

Cam strides out of the room confidently. Pitt pauses next to you, brushing a hand up your arm, a sad look on his face before brushing a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering, "you're not expendable," and heading out the door. Pitt's words tie a knot in your stomach. Sighing you follow them out, feeling like there's a noose around your neck.  




Entering the dark bar between Cam and Pitt, they scan the crowd. Mike is standing to the side with Liz grinning with a round of shots. Marching you over, Pitt pulls Mike to the side, Cam blocking you from view of the main door, hand on your shoulder, talking to Liz. Concern on her face she nods, scanning the crowd.

"Shit, we got these to congratulate you guys," Mike nods to the shots, looking into your face, "He won't touch you, not tonight." Clinking your glass. Shooting the liquor, it burns your throat, setting your stomach on fire. Pitt slides next to you as Mike and Liz spread out through the crowd searching for the others.

"Let's get a drink at the bar," Cam motions to the center of the room. 

As your group approaches, Nick turns, grinning, holding a beer out to you. Cam gleefully snatches it, "Thanks asshole," chugging it down. 

Pitt knocks on the bar signaling for three more beers, handing you one while glowering at Nick, who attempts to skirt Cam to talk to you. Pitt causally steps in his way, throwing him a bored look over his shoulder. Nick's face is boiling rage as Cam firmly grips his shoulder forcing him to sit on a bar stool. 

Rolling your eyes, hissing in Pitt's ear, "Stop. He wants to keep me away from Negan too. I'll sit with Nick, go find the others. If anything, Nick pisses Negan off more then you two."

Pitt glares at Nick before stepping grudgingly aside, squeezing your shoulder as he stalks off with Cam, heads roving around the bar.   

Sliding onto the stool next to Nick. He turns to you, "What the fuck is wrong with them?"

Placing a hand on Nick's arm. "They're actually fine once you get to know them. They haven't had someone new to intimidate in a long time," smiling to yourself 

Snorting in disbelief, "How do you know them?"

Laughing, "I grew up next door to Pitt. Cam has been his best friend since middle school. It's like being friends with two over protective Rottweilers." Letting out a long breath, starring at your beer bottle, "They were good friends with my husband."

Glancing at you, "Sorry." 

You shrug. Taking a long pull finishing your bottle, turning on the stool to press your back to the bar, eyes scanning the crowd. "Everybody's lost somebody. I try to forget them." shaking your head, quickly  correcting yourself, "Him... It's easier that way." 
Nick looks at you with concern, placing a consoling hand on your shoulder.

Shaking it off impatiently, turning back to the bar, "It's fine." Signaling to the bar tender for a fresh beer.  Snickering at an old memory,  "Pitt punched him in the face the day he asked me out. Cam defused the situation." 

The bartender walks over delivering your beer and a fresh shot. Raising an eyebrow at the shot he jerks his head behind him. Across the bar, Pitt throws back a shot and winks at you causing you to raise your own shot at him sarcastically. Pitt absentmindedly bites his bottom lip, grinning, looking down at the bar before shooting you mischievous grin.

Nick's eyes narrow watching your interaction, "What kind of a stupid fucking name is Pitt anyway." 

"He saved a Pit Bull that was tied up on the side of the road. That thing wouldn't leave his side. He loved that dog more than life itself. She died protecting him from a walker." Frowning Nick picks at the label on his beer.

Looking back over toward Pitt, a woman is perched on a stool next to him, twirling her chestnut hair, fawning over him. Giving an overenthusiastic laugh, draping herself over him. Your face darkens in annoyance, grumbling, "He's not that funny, Christ..."

Nick glances over curiously, "That's Claire, she has a thing for new saviors."

Carelessly flicking hair over your shoulder, "She sounds like a winner."

Cam is standing behind them talking with Brad and Laura. You wonder what they are saying as three sets of eyes swivel toward you. Turning nervously to quickly scan the crowded bar behind you and toward the front door in case Negan has arrived, not that you had a plan of what to do when that happened. Nick's eyes tracking your movements, "waiting for someone?" 

"No, avoiding them."

Rubbing a hand over your face, taking a long pull from the beer. Scanning the faces around the bar, noting some seemed to be trained on your interaction with Nick. Dev standing guard near a side door, nods at you. Liz is pushing her way through the crowd with Kelly. Nick breaks you out of your thoughts. "Who?"

Eyeing him warily, "Who, what?" Across the bar, Pitt is brushing Claire off, abruptly turning to clap Cam on the shoulder pulling him closer to speak in his ear. Brad and Laura have disappeared into the crowd.

"Who are you avoiding?"

Before you can answer, Nick is grumbling eyeballing Pitt and Cam as they start maneuvering around the bar toward your position. Playfully nudging Nick with your shoulder, trying to change the subject and ease the tension rolling off him, "Thanks for the beer. Cam was just being a dick earlier."

Smiling, "I'll have to make it up to you."    

Suddenly, Cam is shouldering between you and Nick, nodding at Pitt on your other side. Pitt has the stupid grin on his face that, you know,  means he's had one too many, "I have an idea, I'll pick you."

"What?" Confusion on your face.

"Tonight, I can pick whoever is willing. I'll pick you. You'll be with me tonight."

Hissing, "Are you fucking stupid, he'll throw you in a cell. Sherry told me he'll go after Nick and anyone else who he thinks is trying to get in his way. I'm not putting a target on your back."

Growling, "I'm picking you. I want you tonight."

"Pitt, you're not giving away a night of guaranteed guilt free sex with Claire, or whoever the fuck was just pawing you, to protect me." 
"I don't care. Aren't you listening to me? I want you. I'm picking you."

"What the fuck are you two talking about?" Nick is leaning on the bar around Cam, who looks like he's is barely containing himself from pummeling him. "She's not sleeping in your room tonight."

"Fuck off asshole, this has nothing to do with you," Pitt seethes. 

"The fuck it has nothing to do with me, maybe she wants to come back to my room tonight."

Groaning your head is in your hands as Liz slams into you from behind. "Drink these quick," shoving two more shots at you as she urgently pulls on Pitts arm, distracting him from Nick whispering quickly in his ear.

He gives a curt nod in agreement, turning, pushing his beer into your hands, "Chug this."


"Do you trust me?" You nod biting your lip. "Then chug it, quick, he's coming."

"Who coming?" Nick questions, craning his neck looking toward the main door.

Slamming the beer, Liz grabs your arm trying to pull you off the stool. "What?" mind reeling like a skipping record trying to catch up, fear coiling in your belly.

"Come on, I have to pee, come with me," Liz is practically dragging you toward the door. Her face goes white as she spins around, Laura quickly stumbling through the crowd chanting "Negan" under her breath. Grabbing your other arm they pull you through the crowd, knocking people out of the way and out of the side door where Dev is standing, sprinting down the hall like their lives depend on it, dragging you along with them.  

Outside, breathless, the world is spinning. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Saving your ass." Liz pants holding a stitch in her side.

"Negan was coming down the stairs, Pitt and Cam said we needed to keep him away from you tonight," Laura explains.

"Great, now what? If he's looking for me it won't take him long to find me. If I'm not in the bar I'll be in my room." 

"You're sleeping in my room tonight," Liz starts pulling you around the building, checking around corners. "Mike's sleeping in the workshop. Our room is practically the other side of the building from yours, so if he looking for you there we should be able to get to ours with no one seeing."

"Maybe I should sleep in the workshop, I don't want him coming after you for helping me." Squeezing the bridge of your nose trying to concentrate, "Fuck, why did you keep shoving drinks at me," stumbling sideways, hitting the wall.

Grabbing your arm, Liz locks eyes with Laura over your head, "Go back, tell anyone who asks that Tess doesn't feel good, too much to drink, I'm taking care of her."

Laura nods once and turns, sprinting back toward the bar while Liz drags you toward her room. "If we run into anyone lean on me, your too drunk to be alone tonight, understand?" Stopping she musses your hair, "Keep your head down and hair in your face."

"What about your room mates?"

"Gretchen lost her husband to the fence breach today, she probably won't even notice."

"Breach? What breach?"

Pulling you into a cramped room, turning on the lamp she sinks onto a bed sighing in relief. Someone huddled under thread bare covers on the other bed is weeping softly. Resting your head back against the door, eyes shut, "Thanks, Liz. I don't know what is going to happen tomorrow but thanks for tonight."

Pulling the cover aside slipping underneath, patting the bed next to her, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Snorting, "Talk about what? my feelings? I don't even think I have those anymore." Sliding under the covers, feeling her warm body press up against yours.

"Laura told me she saw you the other day, your wrist... I thought you had stopped."

"Shhhhh, it's fine. I'm fine. I did. I just..." taking a shaky breath, "I miss them. It's so hard here, all the people, the walls. Negan."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know," whispering, "I'm running out of options, I don't think I have a choice."

"What about Pitt," Liz inquires, "he could keep you safe."

Snorting, "Pitt's trying to honor a promise he made to my dying husband." 

Liz scoffs behind you, "you sure about that?"

"I'm the little sister he never had," slurring into the pillow, fighting to stay awake.

Liz gives a heavy sigh, "At least Negan isn't bad looking. If you can get past the whole psycho killer thing."

"Yeah, the monster of my dreams," you mumble, closing your eyes.

Chapter Text

Your dreams are disturbed. Running through a labyrinth of twisted halls, your father rages after you, slamming a mallet into the walls, screaming for his little whore. Your terrified knowing what awaits you if he catches you. Loosing your footing on the shifting terrain, breath knocked out of you, rolling onto your back to accept your fate. Your friends, stumbling towards you as walkers, lifeless eyes roving for fresh meat. Trying in vain to sprint away from them, until you spot them. The last two, your dead husband and child, causing you to stumble. Falling to your knees, tears streaming down your face, opening your arms to your doom, happy to be reunited at last. They are all destroyed when a dark shadow over takes you, ripped from you again, by a monster with a baseball bat. He turns around, dripping with blood and gore, eyes glowing red, telling you to get on your knees and pay homage to your savior.  

Lurching out of the bed, vomiting into a trash can on the floor. Coughing, sitting back on your haunches as the world shifts and sways. Squinting in the murky light of the room, seeing a shadowy figured looming in the door, silently staring at your huddled form. Blinking, your vision is blurred and tilted, still drunk from the bar. Raising a shaking hand to wipe hair off your sweaty face, the figure is gone and you aren't sure if you imagined it. Resting your aching head onto the cold floor until darkness overtakes you again.   


The next morning, head pounding, stomach sick, sitting up stiffly, feeling bruised and broken from sleeping on the floor. Liz groans, shifting in her sleep. Quietly leaving the room, needing to get away from everything, into the fresh air to clear your thoughts. Leaning your head against the building watching the morning sky. It's early morning, the sky just starting to lighten, a chill in the air. Noting a guard eyeing you with suspicion, quickly turning and heading into the building.

Reaching your floor without running into anyone. Slowly opening the door to your room, fully expecting that Negan has someone waiting for you.  Relieved when you see no one inside. Chewing your lip pacing back and forth. It's a only a matter of time before Negan summons you to his office. He's gonna be pissed about last night. Remembering Sherry's warning. Hoping Negan doesn't take last night out on your friends.

Sitting on the bed, sinking your pounding head into your hands. Think... Think... What will keep him happy. Soften the blow. You can't show up to his office later with nothing.

Jumping up from the bed quickly pulling on new clothes before logic catches up with you. A bag of weapons on your back. Hurrying out the door and quietly checking the handle to the door next door.


Breathing a sigh of relief, easing yourself in. Cam's room is dark. Waiting silently as your eyes adjust to the light. Seeing his bed against the wall, walking over you notice two bodies in the bed. Freezing. 


It's Arat, tangled in the sheets, bare leg thrown possessively over his hips. Biting your lip, cautiously backing out of the room, Cam suddenly sits up. "Tess?"


Arat's eyes fly open. Regarding you with suspicion.

Cam rubbing his face, "What are you doing in here? What happened to you last night?"


Cam's eyes dart toward Arat who's partially sitting up like she might pounce on you to deliver to Negan. Shutting your eyes, squeezing the bridge of your nose with your hand, willing yourself to think through the fog of your hangover. "I don't know, I drank too much, went to the bathroom with Liz and I felt sick so we went back to her room... I must have passed out in there. When I woke up I came back to my room." Gritting your teeth, "God, I feel shitty.... Why? Did something happen after I left?"  

"Negan was looking for you. He even searched a few of the rooms."

Dreading the answer. "Whose?"

Smirking, "Mine, Nick's."

Arat languidly stretches herself, "Pitt's," raising an eyebrow at you.

Your stomach drops at the news. Remembering the shadowy figure lurking in the door last night. Swallowing uneasily, wondering if it was him, watching you sleep.

"Shit. Fuck.... Cam, I need a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"The keys to the truck."

"Did you ask Pitt?"

"No, he would want to come with me."

"Are you running?"


Cam regards you  with suspicion, Arat's narrowing her eyes, plotting her next move. Hoping you can get to the truck and out of the gate before she tips Negan off.

"I swear. I'm not running, I just need to get out of these walls alone to think and I need to get some shit together before Negan murders me."

Cam yawns, ruffling his own hair, "He's gonna murder your vagina."

Annoyance flares through you, picking up his boot up. "Dick!" Chucking it at his head. "Help me!" 

Ready for your retaliation, Cam easily ducks under the boot laughing. "The key's are on the table. I'll give you an hour head start before Arat tells Negan you skipped out."

Arat frowns, "I'm telling him now." Reaching for her walkie, grunting in frustration when Cam easily pins her to the bed, wrists held above her head.

"Mmmmm I think we can find something to occupy an hour," kissing her deeply.

She's still struggling as you grab the keys, calling over your shoulder, "You know how to find me." Darting out of the room in case Cam's seduction skills weren't up to par with Arat's devotion to serving Negan.



Rushing down the stairs and into the garage, searching for the truck. Finding it quickly, tossing your pack in and gunning the engine. Honking at the gate for the guards to open it. Speeding through as soon as it's wide enough to fit the truck through. Your only 20 min out of the gate before Negan's voice hits your walkie, "TESS! I sure as shit hope the report I just got isn't fucking true. Because if it is, I am going to rain holy hell down on you when you get back." 

Your stomach does flips as he rants through the walkie. "Shit, shit, shit." biting your lip glancing in the rear view to see if anyone is following yet.

Clicking the button, "Negan?"

"Tess..." cringing at  his voice.

"I just needed a minute... To think."  

"I didn't give you permission to leave, Tess." his voice is low, barely controlled rage, it's worse than when he screams.

"I'll be back, I need to think, I'm switching off this channel, "    

Bellowing, "Get your ass back here NOW, or so fucking help me, I am going to fucking MURDER EVERYONE YOU KNOW!".... click... his voice cuts off abruptly. Pulling the truck over, stumbling out, retching all over the side of the road. Sitting back on your heels, forcing yourself back up and into the truck. Foot down on the gas, flying down the road.

About an hour later, pulling into a familiar parking lot. No walkers in site. Nudging your truck to the side of the strip mall, out of site from the main road. Hoping it will buy you time if Negan sent someone after you.

Shouldering your bag, heading toward store on the far end, a salon. Peering through the dirty glass there's no movement inside. The door is locked. Picking it quickly, shouldering it open, hearing movement toward the back. Cautiously stepping around a rack you end the walker with an easy knife through the temple. A quick search tells you that was the only one. Rifling through the work stations until you find a bottle of aspirin. Swallowing two dry and dropping the bottle into your bag.

The break room holds some bottled water, a few cans of soda, slim fast shakes, and an unopened bag of oreos. Heading to the front you start shoving hair styling tools, nail polish and fancy hair products and lotions into your bag. A side area was set up for wedding shit, costume jewelry goes in next. Wondering what else might interest Negan's wives. If Negan can shower them in gifts, it might keep him off your ass. Spying magazines in the waiting area you grab those too.

Curiously, clicking the walkie back to the main channel, chewing your bottom lip... Simon's voice cuts in, "n hear me? Tess, come back now and he'll go easy on you. If he has to drag you back you will never get out of a cell. Do the right thing, don't be fucking stupid..." clicking back off, to your AWOL channel, sighing in frustration. Running is starting to look like an appealing option.  

Delivering everything to the truck you head to the next store. A music store. The door was unlocked, taking out three walkers during a quick sweep. Heading to the back office first. Shaking your head sadly at what you find, cursing under your breath.

Rodger, sitting at his desk, head blown off, brain and blood splattering the back wall, a grotesque Rorschach ink blot, picture of his dead wife sitting in the center of his desk next to an open bottle of Jameson. Picking the shotgun off the floor, one bullet still in the chamber. Finding a few more bottles of booze hidden in the filing cabinets, a handgun taped under the desk, extra ammo and a box of cigars in a locked bottom drawer. "Thanks Rodger," softly, dropping one of the cigars into his shirt pocket, quietly shutting the office door. Loading a box with a plethora of CDs, DVDs, and some band shirts. Noticing an acoustic guitar hanging on the wall you grab that too, along with some picks and extra strings.  

The last store is an old Victoria's Secret. The whole reason you came this way. Hoping new outfits for Negan's wives will distract him enough to keep your head off the block. The door is locked and you pick it before wandering in. Glancing around the racks of lace and satin, running your fingers through the soft fabric. Unsure of their sizing, grabbing a mix of colors and varieties, thongs, boyshorts, g-strings, corsets, nighties, rompers, bras. Adding some boy shorts to your personal bag, along with new sports bras.

Entering the old manager's office, lingering in the door before climbing up onto the filing cabinet. Popping a tile out of the drop ceiling, fishing around and pulling two bottles of Champaign out of their hiding spot. Remembering how Carla used to wink at you after hours, kicking off her shoes, "Bubbles make everything better!" Swallowing the lump in your throat. Carla...

The walkie goes off and you freeze. "Tess?"

It's Pitt.

Closing your eyes, willing the memories away. Coming here was a mistake.

"Tess...." more urgent.

"Shit." Sliding off the cabinet, sitting on the ground behind the desk, a tear sliding down your cheek. Clicking the walkie, voice cracking, "Yeah?" Clearing your throat.

Hearing the relief in his voice,  "Jesus, where are you?"  

"I just needed to get out... and think."

"Tess, it's really important..." Your hairs stand on end hearing the tension in his voice. "Where are you?" 

"Is he with you?"

"Just... please... answer the question."

Almost a whisper, "Did he hurt you? The others?"

"Baby, we need to know where you are. You need to come back. He's locked everyone in the cells."

Lowering your head in defeat, "I'm at that place, where I worked... the one with all the perks..."

the walkie is silent for a long time. 

Taking a shaky breath, "Remember?"

Pitt's voice is unreadable, guarded, "Why did you go there?"

"I just needed to think."

"I'm coming to get you."

Shutting your eyes, leaning your head back, trying to remember the good times, "I used to sunbath on the roof... did you know that?"

"Don't move, I'm coming for you."

Bending your head to the ground, stomach in knots from wave after wave of memories. Stumbling out of the door, loading everything into your truck before heading to the roof, clutching the bottle of Jameson from Rodger's desk.

Sitting on the edge, feet swinging free like a childs, tipping the bottle back, burning down your throat, into your empty belly.



You're not sure how long you are sitting there, attempting to get comfortably numb. Absentmindedly swinging your legs while contemplating if a fall from the roof would kill you or merely break your legs, when you notice a tall figure emerge from the woods. Instantly you freeze, not sure if he saw you. He takes a diagonal path through the parking lot, not glancing your way, passing by the side of the building near the salon, opposite your truck and you breath easier. 

Several minutes later, hearing movement behind you, frustrated to see the same man climbing the ladder. Carefully placing your bottle on the roof, pulling your empty gun out of its harness, not in the mood to deal with some asshole who thinks you're an easy target. Shifting to the side, one leg still dangling over, you line him up in your sites, "Take one more step and I'll blow your fucking brains out."

His arms instantly raise, quirking an eyebrow at you, grinning. He's tall and thin, long hair under a wool cap, long trench coat. You're nervous what weapons he could be hiding under it. "I come in peace," he states calmly. 

Snorting, "yeah, right. I've heard that shit before."

He slowly lowers himself to a sitting position on the roof, arms still raised. "Are you alone?"


"Just curious..."

"Curiosity can be fatal."

"So can traveling alone."

Leveling him with an unimpressed gaze, "You offering to save me?" 

He laughs to himself, "Well, my name is Jesus."

"I'm an atheist. Find someone else to save"

He seems amused by your answer, "Does the atheist have a name?"

Figuring there was no point in lying, "Tess,"

"It's nice to meet you, Tess"

You both stare at each other in silence for a few moments. He slowly lowers his arms keeping his hands open and in front of him, showing he means you no harm. You keep the gun trained on him but lower your arm to a more comfortable position.  

"You never answered my question," he states causally.

"What question?" 

"Are you alone?" 

You are very aware the gun you're holding has no bullets. Cursing yourself for not switching it out for the one under Rodger's desk. You're confident you would be able to get a blade out if he charged you, but if he pulled a gun, things would get tricky. "Just waiting for my ride..." Willing him to take the hint that more people are coming and to go away. 

He regards you with solemn clear blue eyes for a minute, "A ride? I noticed a truck on the side of the building. I assumed it was yours."

"It is."

"The haul was... interesting."

"I work for an interesting person." Shifting uncomfortably.


Your breath catches in your throat, raising the gun back up aggressively, "Did he send you after me?" Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck why did you give him your real name. You don't have a name anymore. You, are Negan. A fuck up like that could get you killed.

Sensing your alarm he raises his hands again, "It's ok, I'm from Hill Top. We pay him tributes too" 

Internally cursing your bad luck at running into someone who works for Negan. He's a liability. "When they get here, stay out of sight. I'm already on Negan's shit list."

"That bad?"

"Yes, and I strongly suggest you fuck off before he gets here." Annoyed that Jesus won't take the hint and leave. 

He smiles sadly at you, "After the drop, I could take you back to Hill Top, he wouldn't have to know where you went."

Cutting him off, "It's too late for that."

"It's never too late." 

Hating his optimism. Hating he still holds onto hope in a hopeless world. Turning your head slightly, you hear the sound of trucks approaching. "He's here," you mumble sadly. Quickly shifting position, placing your gun back in its harness and grabbing the bottle. Trying to ignore Jesus, he's no longer your main threat. "If you hurry, you can still run before they get here." Meeting his troubled eyes, you know he isn't leaving. "Trust me... I'm not worth saving." 

Cursing under your breath as two trucks skid into the parking lot. Pitt leaps out of the first truck before it's fully stopped. He has a black eye and blood smeared across his face from a broken nose. A large bruise on the side of his head. Cam, followed by Simon, step out of the truck. Cam's empty hands held out, Simon's gun trained on him. Cam shields his eyes looking up at you, One of his eyes swollen shut. Peering up at you, Pitt asks, "You ok?" 

Shaking your head, voice cracking at the sight of them, "No...." Your body caving in on itself, seeing the condition they are in. Knowing it's your fault. Everything that happened to them and anyone else in your group today, was all you fault. Your stomach is in knots. A Tear slides silently down your face, "I'm so sorry I got you into this, but...." Sighing, resigning yourself to your choice, "but, I know how to fix it."  

At those words, Pitt's head jerks toward Simon. Looking like he is about to make a run for it, to get on the roof, until Simon points the gun at him, "I wouldn't."

Negan steps out of the second truck, glaring up at you, Lucille already on his shoulder, your scalp tingles. Red steps out of Negan's truck looking equally grim pushing Brad down onto the pavement, followed by Dwight. You can tell the way he stumbles, Brad isn't in good condition.  "Times fucking up, doll. Enough running. You're in control of how much you loose today. And, darling, there is a lot on the table."

"Shit," you breath, taking a massive swig from the bottle.

Calling down to Negan, "Wait, I'm coming down." He nods grimly, aggressively swinging Lucille, like a batter warming up.

Standing, making your way over to the ladder. Hoping giving into Negan will be enough to satisfy him.

Looking at Jesus with dead eyes, "No matter what you hear, no matter what you see, stay up here. Nothing you can do would change anything. I don't want your blood on my hands." 

Jesus's concerned eyes are on you, "There are other ways." 

Through numb lips, "I'm not worth saving..."



Chapter Text

Rounding the corner of the building Dwight grabs you, throwing you to your knees before Negan. His boots crunching to a stop in front of you, grim smile on his face. Bringing Lucille under your chin, using her to force your face up, a trickle of blood running down your neck from the barbed wire cutting your skin. "We have some fucking things to discuss, doll."

Brad is still kneeling, blood dripping rhythmically out of his nose. He raises his face to look at you, but he seems to be having trouble focusing. There's so much blood, his gray shirt appears red. Dark marks circle his neck and he is making a wet wheezing sound as he tries to breath. Your blood is like ice in your veins. Seeing the cold reality of what your actions have brought on your friends.

"Line them the fuck up," Negan growls, pacing back and forth. You can tell by his restless motions that he is beyond pissed. Pitt and Cam are shoved roughly onto their knees on either side of Brad, giving you a front row seat for whatever Negan has planned.

Laughing a little to himself, scratching at his beard, "you know, doll, I thought I've been pretty fucking clear about what the rules are. What I expected of you.  And you said, you were going to TRY to stop disappointing me. It turns out, your pretty fucking shitty at NOT disappointing me.  BUT, hell, being that I AM a reasonable guy, I can see your not fully to blame. I've been too fucking easy on you. I see that now. I really need to do something," leaning forward and jabbing his finger into your temple, "to drill it into your FUCKING head, WHO the FUCK is in charge."

He swings Lucille violently and you cringe back. "Lucille, she's getting mighty tired of your shit. And my Lucille, she knows how to get. Shit. Done..." Punctuating his words by jabbing Cam, Brad and Pitt in the chest. "Now... I don't normally like involving her in these fucking DOMESTIC matters... But sweetheart, you've forced my fucking hand on this one."

Turning his back to you Negan starts pacing back and forth in front of the men on their knees. You feel like your going to vomit, knowing what is about to transpire. Negan is a man of his word and he doesn't make idle threats, someone is about to die by his hand. Whistling playfully to himself as he eyes up each man. Stopping in front of Cam, pointing at him with Lucille, "You." Cam looks up at Negan with dread, fear clear in his eyes. The seconds stretch on in silence until Negan laughs, ruffling his hair, "I'm just playing, I like you, you're a cocky mother fucker." Cam sags in relief. "Plus, Arat might cut off my balls if I kill her new fuck buddy."

He turns to stand in front of Brad and Pitt. "That just leaves you... and you..." Your stomach is in knots. "Choices, choices..." he deliberates while swinging Lucille back and forth between the two. "On one hand, you," pointing her at Brad, "haven't crossed me. Of course, you haven't done shit to impress me either, and SOME people here would LOVE to see your ass gone.... Open that hot little wife you have up for some exciting, new possibilities," winking at Simon.

Swinging her to point in Pitt's face, "You, on the other hand, are irritating as SHIT. Like sand in a fucking jockstrap. Don't fucking think for a second I don't know what's rolling around in that fucking brain of yours..." Giving a menacing laugh, Pitt seems to shrink in on himself, "Oh yeah. I. Know.... I know EVERY fucking thought in that head." Turning to look at you with a smirk, "Maybe we should crack it open, See what dark secrets come spilling out." Tears are running down your face, Dwight's hand digging into your shoulder, holding you in place, in case you try anything stupid. Negan turns back to Pitt, lamenting, "BUT, you hustle, you get shit done, makes me stand up and take notice. That's the type of shit that tickles my balls."      

Leisurely walking back and forth along the line again, swinging Lucille pensively, "Well, I guess I just have to choose, go with my fucking gut on this one." Turning to glare at you, all playfulness gone, glancing at Dwight, "D, hold her fucking face, I want to make sure she sees... everything." 

Dwight's large hand painfully grips your jaw, forcing your face forward. Twirling Lucille in his hand, "Just so you know, doll, this shit is on you. No one had to die today. You made some fucked up decisions and now some fucked up shit is gonna happen."  

He turns like a viper, striking before you can say anything to stop him. Bringing Lucille down again and again, the sound of bone, breaking, crushing, until it is just the sickening wet sounds of ground meat getting pounded over and over. Your vision tunnels and you feel like you might pass out, your body going numb in shock. Afraid to focus, afraid to see who he chose. 

After pounding his victim into oblivion, Negan stands to his full height, straightening his jacket. Smoothing his hair. You're starring in horror, trying to make sense of the crime scene in front of you. Slowly registering that Brad was the one he chose. The least valuable of the three. Feeling a wave of nausea at the relief flooding your body that Pitt is still alive and Laura's husband is dead. He's never coming back and it's all your fault. You did this. You destroyed the only good thing left is Laura's life. Cam and Pitt both skitter away from the horror that was once their friend. Simon and Red press guns into their temples until they stand still, back in line. 

Negan's voice breaks you out of your trance, "God DAMN! Nothing relieves some stress like killin and fuckin. Am I right? Looks like we got the killin part over with..." winking cheekily at you. Turning, to Dwight, all business, "D, get the truck."

You hear the engine come to life, gravel crunching under tires as it's pulled around from the side of the building. Negan jerks his head at Simon to inspect the haul. Red's gun trained on Pitt and Cam. Simon gives a low whistle. "Boss, you might want to take a look. This shit sends a pretty clear message." 

Glaring at you, jaw clenching, "If she moves, shoot both of these fuckers in the face." 

You hear him rummaging around in the truck behind you giving a low whistle, "Where'd you get the fucking guns?"

Clearing your throat, willing your voice to not shake, "Rodger, he owned the music store, blew his own brains out." Locking eyes with Cam who flinches at the news, his first employer.

Stepping back around you, Negan lowers himself to look you in the eyes, considering. Reaching his hand to your face you jerk back in alarm. He grins, chuckling rubbing his beard. Reaching out again, touching your face, thumb running along your bottom lip, leaning in slowly until he kisses you, slowly at first before swirling his tongue in your mouth, waiting until your body responds, knowing what he wants, what you have to do to make this nightmare end, you wrap your hands around his neck before he pulls away, looking directly at Pitt. Pitt's face stays neutral.

"Huh," Negan chuckles, standing, slinking over to get in Pitt's face. "You were friends with her husband right? I bet it killed you all those fucking years, watching them together. Lots of practice covering those fucking feelings up... Don't worry, I know. I've seen the way you look at her... Like a dog staring at a bone."

Looking at you grinning, enjoying the confusion on your face. "Thing is, I don't even think she fucking knows."

Your staring at the exchange in bewilderment. Pitt's face is a ridged mask. Your brain struggling, stuttering to catch up. Pitt had always been your closest friend, the most important person in your life after your husband and child. Your protector. Pitt's words play back to you, "I want you, I'm choosing you." Suddenly it all made sense. Why everyone always thought you were involved, even Liz last night, hinting at the truth. Your mouth drops opens as you gape stupidly up at them.   

Nudging his arm, "Well, I guess, until right now, right?" Chuckling, leaning in, whispering conspiringly in his ear, "She belongs to me now, just so you know." Pointing Lucile at you, "Doll, stand up."

Standing, nervously shifting foot to foot. The new revelation has completely thrown you off.  

Biting his lip, grinning, "Who do you belong to?"

Your voice comes out horsley, "You."

Placing a hand to his ear, "Sorry, doll I didn't quiet hear that, who do you fucking belong to?"

Clearing your throat, "You, Negan. I belong to you."

Slowly walking up to you, behind you, hands on your shoulders, "And, who's dick do you want to suck?" Turning your head to stare at him in alarm, he forces it forward, so you're staring at Pitt. "No no, darling, don't look at me, I already know, tell the rest of the class... Who's fucking dick do you want to suck?"

Blinking, nervously glancing between Cam and Pitt. Cam's face is dark anger, Pitt's is ghost white, helpless. "Do not make me repeat myself. Lucille might still be a little thirsty... And we all know who would be getting up close and personal with my girl next time."

Swallowing down the bile rising in your throat, knowing you're trapped, "Yours, Negan."  He Squeezes your shoulders slightly, humming his approval.

"Mine... Well... Now that this shit is all cleared up. Red, you head back with shit dick number 1. Simon and Dwight, you take shit dick number 2 and the truck with the haul. We're gonna stay here for a few. Work out some fucking details, go over the fucking rules, again." Leveling his gaze at Pitt, "Don't worry, I'll bring her back, safe and sound."

Immediately, the guns are away from their heads pushing them towards their respective rides. "Oh, and Simon, Let the others out of the god damned cells. My girl made the right fucking decision today. It has me feeling fucking," gesturing with his hands, "magnanimous."

Snickering, "Sure thing, boss."

Watching the trucks roll away, Negan's arm slides around your shoulders, "Alone at last... What will we do with our time?" Turning with you still snug against his body, walking toward the lingerie store. Laughing to himself, "I gotta tell you, this shit is a first for me. I've never had someone fucking run off against my orders, after standing me up the night before, just to scavenge an entire wardrobe of sexy shit for me." Biting his bottom lip, grinning at you, squeezing you tighter, "That is some wylie fucking shit you pulled off today. Almost makes me feel bad for killing, what's his name... Almost."

Standing in the middle of the store, dropping the arm from your shoulder and spreading them wide with Lucille, spinning in a circle, taking it all in. "I simply can not decide, what do you want to put on for me, doll?"

"Don't you think we should do this at the santuary?"

"Uh-uh, nope, not this time. You're not sliding through my fingers again, I take you back now, some dumb fuck is gonna need something. And I need to drill it into your God damned head, once and for all, who you fucking belong to." Looking you over, glancing around the room, jabbing with Lucille, "This one." He pulls a purple lace chemise from a rack, the front a deep V, skimpy g-string to match. "It would look better in heels, but since this is just the fucking preview, we'll make do..."

Taking his choice, walking to the dressing rooms, sliding off your clothes and pulling on the g-sting, before pulling the chemise over your head. The lace clings to your curves, deep v cutting almost to your navel, leaving your tits on full display. Looking at yourself in the mirror, biting your lip, the purple makes you pale skin glow, erect nipples in the chilly air barely visible through the lace, your hand trails toward your core, trying to prepare yourself for what lies ahead. Negan breaks you out of your trance. "Doll, not getting cold feet are you?" Shutting your eyes, taking a calming breath, quietly spitting into your hand before lubricating yourself. Grudgingly thankful for years of abuse from your father that have prepared you for what's to come. 

Coming out of the dressing room, carrying your clothes with you, Negan is waiting at the front register,  light filtering through the dirty windows. Sucking in his breath when he sees you, a slow grin creeping over his face. Walking around he takes your clothes, placing them on the counter behind him before slowly circling, not saying a word, a predator with its prey.

Brushing a light finger along your shoulder, you shudder. Stomach clenching in anticipation. "Do we need to go over the fucking rules again, darling? Have I not been fucking clear enough for you?"

"No, I know the rules. I... I belong to you, Negan"

"Huh..." Circling, circling, "Seems to me there's a rule about listening to my fucking orders." A hand reaches out griping your waist, you gasp, goose bumps tickling your skin. "Seems like you fucking broke that rule today." 

"I'm sorry Negan, I just needed to think..."

"Shhhhhhhh. Shhhhhhhh. Shhhhhhhhh," he presses a finger against your lips, "I didn't ask you to talk yet, darling." Eyes darkening with desire, almost black, slowly pushing his thumb into your mouth, "Mmmmmm, good girl." Removing his thumb, circling you again.

Stopping in front of you, running a finger along the edge of the top, shooting fire through your veins, "And how do I know you won't try to run away again?" Edging his finger under the strap, pulling each side down, chemise falling to the floor, exposing you, eating you with his hungry eyes.

Biting your lip, eyes pleading, "I swear Negan, I won't run, I belong to you. I understand that now."

"Do you...." long fingers reaching out, gently rolling your nipples, your body arches into his touch moaning.

"Please," begging.

"Please what?"

"Please," tentatively leaning toward him, raising on your toes, reaching for his face. Knowing you need to prove your submission. 

Sliding behind you gripping your hips hard forcing you back to your feet. "No, darling. not yet." Slowly sliding his hand down your stomach, dipping into your waist band, a long finger pushing into your folds gliding over your clit. Moaning your legs start to buckle, reaching behind you to grip his neck for support. Groaning, "You're dripping and I've hardly even touched you. I bet I can make you scream." All you can do is moan in response trying to rock into his hand lightly teasing you. His gruff voice in your ear "Kneel."

Dropping to your knees to comply. Willing to do anything to keep Negan happy and the others safe. Walking back around while unbuckling his belt pulling himself free. Reaching up to firmly stroke down his length you glance up into his eyes, biting your lower lip. He painfully grasps a handful of hair brushing the tip against your mouth. "Show me how sorry you are."

Opening your mouth, bringing just the head in, swirling your tongue before popping it back out. Looking up to see his eye black with desire. Licking back up the shaft before taking the full length into your mouth, moaning at the feel of it. Bobbing your head, squeezing and stroking your hand along the shaft. Taking more into your mouth, opening wide, forcing himself in until it hits your throat before pulling off with a pop. Running your other hand up his leg, thumb dragging a firm line inside of his thigh to his balls. Cupping them, giving gentle tugs as you continue to work his shaft. Negan is moaning, bucking his hips into your wet mouth, hand tightening in your hair. He's getting close. Swirling your tongue, flicking the underside of the tip, slowly tracing your hand down to your nipple to give a light squeeze, imagining it's someone else standing above you. Moaning and bobbing your head, hallowing your checks and you drag back out working your hand down between your legs to stroke your clit, eyes shut, rocking into your hand almost at release.

Suddenly he pulls out, your eyes flying open in surprise. "Open your mouth," Negan demands huskily, pumping himself with his fist. Opening your mouth he grunts as cum shoots onto your tongue before you lean forward to finish licking him clean. "Good girl." His hand reaches down pulling you to your feet, stroking the hair back off your face. "Time to head back."

Reaching for your clothes on the counter he snatches them, grinning at you.

"I can't go back like this. I'm only wearing a g-string."

"The thing is, doll, while you were getting me off... You. Broke. Another. Rule."

"What? What rule?"

"The, I'm the only one who decides when you fucking get off rule. I saw you touching yourself. Not that I minded, it was hot as shit. But, I didn't give you permission..."

You stand mouth hanging open in shock as he saunters out of the store laughing, calling over his shoulder. "Better hurry up doll face, or you'll be walking back... naked."     

Hugging your boobs against yourself, hurrying to climb into Negan's truck. Sitting in the seat you risk a glance at the roof and see Jesus's head peeking over the side. Swallowing down the shame you feel, sure he witnessed enough to realize you're a lost cause. Not only are you responsible for someones gruesome death, but you rewarded Negan by sucking him off. 

"When will I get my clothes back?"

Smirking at you, "That is a good, fucking, question." Shifting the truck into gear, pulling out onto the main road, heading back toward the sanctuary.


Settling into the seat, watching the trees whip past the window, trying to enjoy the warmth from the sun beating on your bare skin, the smell of fresh pine. Tits gently swaying with the bends and bumps of the road. Resting your head back on the seat, closing your eyes, thinking about everything that had happened since you ran this morning. Stomach sick. Wondering how you will be able to face Laura and the others after watching Brad get his head beat in for your transgressions. Wondering how you will ever face Pitt again. Confident, after today, he's disgusted by what you've become. Your stomach twists painfully at the thought. You want to scream and cry and smash the window. But an emotional outburst like that will just lead to more punishments. 

If you knew everything you knew now, things might have gone differently. You would have made different choices. Your brain feels like mush. 


Years before the world turned to shit, Pitt had convinced you to leave your parents house. He had found you a safe place to stay, a place your father couldn't track you. A small studio apartment above the garage of one of his friends houses a few towns over. No contract and you paid in cash monthly, under the table. Carla, the wife of his friend, had even gotten you a job at the store she managed. 

For months, you had quietly moved clothes and a select few personal items out of your parents house. Nothing they would have noticed. You left the house, left your car, left your job, left everything, without a word and never looked back. Pitt had convinced you a clean break was the only way to keep you safe.

It was true.

At 17 you had run from the house, to a friends. Just for a few days until things cooled off. The night you returned, your father put you in the hospital. Claiming you fell down the stairs when he hauled your broken body into the emergency room. It took years before you were ready to risk running again.

A clean break was the only way out of that nightmare.

That first night you had cooked Pitt dinner to thank him. Slaving away to make his favorite, Cochinita pibil. He had brought modelo beer and the two of you spent the whole night talking and laughing. When he decided to leave you stopped him.

Pitt turned to you concerned, "Shhhhhh, you're safe. He won't find you. He can't. I made sure of it." 

Hugging him tight, nuzzling into his neck, smelling his sent as he stroked your hair. "I wanted to thank you." Rising to your toes, kissing him. For a few brief minutes he had kissed you back, his hands in your hair, down to your waist, pulling you tight to his body, nipping at your bottom lip. Moving your hands down his chest to undo his belt, his hands griping your wrists.

"What are you doing." His voice was low, tense.

Confusion evident in your voice, "I'm... I'm thanking you." Moving to kiss him again.

Jerking his head back, hissing, "Not like this, not now."

"But I thought..."

Cutting you off, "I didn't help you for this." He seemed frustrated, angrily raking his hands through his hair.

"You're not forcing me, I want to, I'm choosing you," reaching your hands toward him, pressing yourself against the strong plain of his body, whispering into his neck, "Stay with me."

He had hesitated for a heartbeat. Looking at you with burning desire in his eyes, cupping your face in one hand. Pressing your advantage you kissed him again, moaning into his mouth, until he held you back, shaking his head, "I can't. It's not right."

Begging him, tears in your eyes, "Please, it's... it's all I have... to thank you."

Pushing you away in frustration, he turned, bolting for the door. Racing down the outside steps to his truck. Leaving you alone to cry in the dark. 

He stayed away for a week. The longest you had ever gone without seeing each other. You were devastated that you had ruined the one good thing in your life. Worried Carla and her husband would kick you out of their apartment. When Pitt finally returned things were stilted, strained. Desperate to keep Pitt in your life you forced your feelings into a locked box and never looked back. Never daring to hope his feelings would change.

You told him you had been drunk, glad he stopped something you both would have regretted.

He agreed and things went back to normal.   


Sighing, holding your bare arm out of the open window, allowing the current of air to move your palm up and down. Focusing on the movement. Trying to block everything else out. You need to get your emotions locked down if you are going to survive. All of your focus must be on pleasing Negan. Keeping him happy. Judging his moods. You don't matter. You're merely a thing, an extension of him. Willing yourself back into the mindset.   

Negan, for now, seems to be in a jovial mood. Whistling to himself, driving lazily with one hand, other arm thrown casually across the back of the seats. 

Recognizing the road and scenery, you jolt upright, knowing you're close to the sanctuary. A warm hand on your thigh, "Problems?" Devilish grin looking you over.

Nervously shifting in your seat. Biting your lip, heat flaring in your cheeks, "We're almost back... Can I have my clothes? Please."

He slows the car considering, "I should make you march to my room naked after the shit you pulled today." Rubbing his face, considering his options, chuckling to himself, "Actually, I have a better idea." Tossing your clothes to you. Your blood runs cold, wondering what he has in mind. Knowing it can't be good.  "Get dressed."

Glancing out of the window seeing the Sanctuary. Sliding your clothes on quickly. Wondering what kind of rumors are swirling around since you ran.

The truck rolls through the gate. You're scanning the yard searching for your friends when cool steel clamps down on your wrist. Trying to turn, Negan pushes your head forward, gripping your other arm, locking it in handcuffs behind your back.

"Negan, what..." the door next to you flies open and Simon pulls you from the seat, catching you before you fall to the ground.

"There she is," smiling down at you, helping you regain your footing, "we were starting to get worried about you two." Winking at you, smirking at Negan.

Stepping around the truck Negan brings a hand to your face. Stroking your head along your jaw, like he's petting a cat. Snapping his fingers, motioning for Dwight to take you. "Bring her to my office, I'll be up soon."

Dwight grabs your upper arm, shoving you forward. Heads swiveling around to watch your progress. Some whispering behind hands. Bowing your head, wondering when you'll see the outside again.

Inside Dwight marches you quickly up the stairs, through the halls and into Negan's office. Shoving you into a chair. Looking up, he's glaring down at you, hatred in his eyes, mumbling under his breath, shaking his head before turning to leave. 

Leaning your head back closing your eyes. Unsure what will happen now. The door swings open and Negan confidently strides through grinning. "Glad to see you fucking listened and stayed where you're supposed to be." Approaching your chair, motioning for you to stand.

Getting hesitantly to your feet he grabs your bicep, pulling you to his side of the desk. Gripping your throat in one hand, gently squeezing. "Don't look so nervous, doll. We're almost done with the lessons for today." 



Chapter Text

Dread runs down your spine at his words, "Almost done the lessons today." Wondering what else he has planed.

Leaning down, running his nose up your neck, breathing you in, chuckling when you shiver. "I think you're gonna like this one," murmuring into your throat.  Encircling you in his arms, sliding a key into your cuffs, releasing one hand. Kissing and nuzzling your neck. Goosebumps flooding your skin.

Straightening up, towering over you, grinning, biting his lower lip while he removes his jacket. You stare back uncertain. Waiting.

Leaning back down, his hands on the desk on either side of you, boxing you in. His voice lowly rumbling in your ear as he brushes his nose slowly along your collar bone, up your neck, "Do you know what it means, doll? When I say you're mine..."

Your voice comes out horse, barely a whisper, "I belong to you..." Your afraid to move, to breath, not knowing where this conversation is leading, sure he has motive.

"That. You. Belong. To. Me." You can feel his lips smiling against your skin as he slowly kisses up your neck, "Dear wife."

Your stomach drops, "Wait."   

One large hand grips your throat firmly as he raises his eyes, smirking at you. "You didn't really think a quick suck and fuck was going to wipe away all of your sins did you?"   

You can feel your heart rate accelerate. Just the thought of being locked in the room with the other wives. Claustrophobia. Your breathing speeds up as the panic descends. 

Grinning at you,  "Oh shit, you did... You thought you were gonna suck me off, get my dick wet and then you would get to go on your merry way back to your friends on the fourth?" clearly enjoying watching the moment reality hits you. "Well, fuck, kitten, that's not how shit works around here. Not unless you want me to go downstairs and..." making a few hollow clicking noises with his tongue, "bash a few more heads in."

Your eyes dart to his, and for once they aren't cold and black, they're bright and alive, this is what he lives for, the kill. Watching the noose tightening around your neck. Knowing he caught you, played you the whole way. You're all out of moves. Check Mate.

Nervously shaking your head. "No, don't... don't do that." 

"No? So that would mean..."   

Swallowing thickly, trembling, "I'm a wife."

Brushing his nose against yours, "You've made me a very happy man." He stares into your eyes, calculating. Seeing your hesitation. "Why the long face? It's your wedding day, the happiest fucking day of your life. Chicks go ape-shit about this day. Marrying, yours truly, the man of their dreams, and I know you've been dreaming of me." Chuckling darkly, "tall, dark and fucking handsome." Biting his lip, "Do I check all the boxes?" quirking an eyebrow at you, holding up his hands, fingers crossed. Smirking at you.

"How about a celebratory drink, take the fucking edge off," turning to a liquor cabinet, you hear the clinking of bottles being shifted before he returns with two tumblers filled half way with amber liquid.

You stare at your glass. chewing your bottom lip. Glancing up meeting his amused eyes, "Scared of the wedding night? Afraid you can't tame the one eyed snake?" Sliding a large warm hand up your thigh, murmuring into your ear, "I can be gentle if you need me to be."    

Internally rolling your eyes at his assumption, before clearing your throat. "So, I'll be rooming with them? The wives? I'll be locked up... in that room... I'll have to wear a dress... and... and heels." Your heart is pounding and you take a large gulp of the fiery liquid, trying to calm your nerves.

Standing up to his full height, laughing a little to himself, "Are you fucking telling me all of this," holding balled hands up to his face pretending to tremble, "is because you're afraid of being in the wives quarters, wearing a dress and heels?"

You look at him grimly, taking another large swallow of liquor. "It's not a good idea, I'm not good around people."

Rubbing his hand over his face and along his stubbled jaw considering. "Tell you what. If you behave and follow the fucking rules, I'll take you out of the gates to go on supervised runs. I know you can handle yourself out there but you need to show me you can listen. You've been too much of a fucking wild card. shit like that can get someone killed. Hell, you already got someone killed," gripping your chin so you're starring into his face, "didn't you... You got someone killed because you didn't follow the rules."

Flinching back from his comment, he grins, showing off his perfect white teeth and dimples, grasping you by the throat again, leaning close, husky voice in your ear, "I know you're gonna be my good girl from now on, follow the rules, do as I say, and I will give you... everything. Can you do that for me, kitten? Can you be my good girl."

"I'll be good." 

Removing his hand from your throat, exhaling, while stroking your arm, "Till death do us part."  

Repeating after him, your voice wooden, "till death do us part." Clinking his glass you throw back the remainder of your glass in one shot. 

Nuzzling into your neck, "I am going to fucking enjoy this." Griping your hips, placing you on top of the desk, while kissing and sucking a path down your neck, leaving a trail of marks. One hand griping your hair, holding your head in place while the other squeezes and rubs up your thigh. 

Shutting your eyes, exhaling, trying clear your mind, to focus only on the sensations.  

Negan stands again, quickly removing his white t-shirt while you kick off your boots. Leaning back on your hands, biting your lip, admiring his torso, scars and old tattoos. "Like what you see, doll?" He steps forward, gripping the bottom of your shirt before jerking his hands, shredding the shirt up the middle, exposing a sports bra underneath. Gripping your pants, unbuttoning them before swiftly sliding them off your legs. "I sure fucking like what I'm seeing." 

His eyes are black with desire as he leans in, catching your mouth in an aggressive kiss, swirling his tongue with yours. You can taste the liquor, whiskey. Shutting your eyes, willing yourself to not think, only feel, bringing your hands around his shoulders, one cuff still attached, dangling from your wrist. Groaning, he pulls you up from the desk, cupping your ass before sitting in his office chair with you straddling his hips. 

You can feel his arousal, pressing against your core and you swivel your hips, dry humping him through his pants, moaning into his mouth. As he pulls away you bite his bottom lip, tasting coppery blood in your mouth. His large hand grabs your hair, aggressively snapping your head back, "so, you do like it rough," biting down where your neck and shoulder meet, causing you to gasp loudly as goosebumps flood your body. Scratching the nails of one hand down his chest he hisses, releasing you. Abruptly standing and dropping you on your back on top of his desk, glasses and a lamp crash loudly to the floor. Pining both your arms above your head with one hand, the other grips your hip with bruising force, holding you steady while he grinds against you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, begging. "Please, Negan." 

"Tell me what you want."

"Please," arching your back, biting your bottom lip, eye's closed. 

Leaning down, he's sucking hard on your neck, "Do you want me to fuck you?" 

"Yes," your moaning under him, writhing around as he rubs a thumb against your clit on the outside of your g-string, "Please... Mmmmm.... Please."

Laughing darkly he grasps the g-string, beginning to slide it off when there is a loud knock at the door. You both freeze. The knock sounds again.

Negan partly straightens up, a dark look on his face, keeping you secured on the desk, "What! For fucks sake."

The door opens and Nick walks in, eyes averted from the desk where you're pinned.

"Simon said you needed me," starring awkwardly at the floor, shifting on his feet. "I can come back later... if your busy," his eyes still avoiding the desk, 

The smirk forming on Negan's face makes you're blood run cold.

This. This was the other lesson. Not for you, for Nick. To show him who won.

As the silence stretches, Nick starts to turn back to the door. "Wait.... I need you to do something for me." Nick instantly freezes, bandage wrapped hand on the knob, awaiting his orders. "Go down to Tess's room, box her shit up. She won't be needing it anymore."

"What?" He turns back slightly, meeting Negan's cheshire cat grin, confusion etched on his face, "Simon said you found her, she came back. Did you... Is she ok?" Your stomach flips uncomfortably seeing his concerned face, concern you don't deserve.    

Negan slowly licks his bottom lip, clearly enjoying the moment before the kill. "I'm gonna need you to deliver her shit to Sherry, she'll take it from there."


"My wife... Sherry. Smokin hot, used to be married to that scrotum faced piece of shit, Dwight... until yours truly, showed her the error of her ways."

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Nick's eyes briefly flicker down to the desk and back up. You see it, the second the realization hits him. His eyes widen in surprise before flying back to your face in alarm. "Wait."

"Ding, ding, ding! Looks like somebody finally caught on." Neagan taunts, "Took you long enough, sweetheart." Nick's eyes darken in anger as he continues to stare at your face. "Look all you want, but no touching, unless you want me to melt half your face off, you know the rules." Gritting his jaw Nick meets Negan's gaze, nodding curtly. "That'll be all, get the fuck out, I'm gonna enjoy screwing my new wife... all. night. long." Nick turns abruptly, leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

Chuckling darkly, Negan pulls you back up to sit, stroking the hair back off your face, "Now... where were we?" Gripping your jaw he starts kissing you slowly, gently at first, then harder as his arousal takes over. 

Needing to forget everything, you grip Negan's belt and aggressively pull his hips toward you. Wanting him to override your senses so you stop thinking, no more guilt, just feel, pain, pleasure, it doesn't even matter. You need him to dominate you into submission so you can become nothing. Yanking on his belt again in frustration, fumbling with the buckle.

Nipping your bottom lip, one large hand gathers your sports bra in his fist, "Patience, sweetness." Pulling his gigantic hunting knife off of his belt, bringing it under the fabric, grunting, quickly jerking his knife, severing your sports bra in two. The G-string quickly follows before he carelessly tosses the knife to the floor.

Sliding his belt off you grasp it in one hand, considering, biting your bottom lip, Negan's large hand grasps your wrist, "Don't even fucking think about it." Squeezing until you drop the heavy leather belt to the floor. "Good girl."

Pulling you off his desk and back into his lap, straddling his hips, griping onto his shoulders as he assaults your mouth, dominating you. Gripping your hair, pulling your head back he starts sucking down your neck again while his other hand inches up your thigh, applying just enough pressure to make you beg for more. Closing your eyes, focusing on his hands, his mouth, the feel of his warm strong body underneath you. Finally after what feels like years his thumb lightly brushes against your core, causing you to arch into him moaning loudly. 

He chuckles deep in his throat as he moves his mouth down to suck and nip at your nipples, while swirling his thumb in mind numbing circles. Your hands are griping his hair, pulling, scratching your nails across his wide shoulders, moaning as you buck your hips into him, needing more. "Please," gasping, "Fuck, Negan, please, more!" 

"Hearing you beg makes me rock hard. Your so fucking wet already." 

He plunges two fingers into you while still working his thumb over your sensitive clit. Your thrashing on top of him, moaning loudly. Negan brings his free arm around your body, securing you tightly to him while his hands work at a rapid pace. Your legs are shaking, labored breathing, and you can tell your getting close. "Look at me," he demands. Bringing your forehead to his, eyes remaining closed. So close. Biting your bottom lip.

"Fuck, Negan...." you whimper, so close to your edge. 

Yanking on your hair, your eyes fly open. His are black with lust, "Look at me, look at me while you fucking cum all over my hand."

His fingers hook inside of you, pulling you over the edge, starring into his intense gaze, choking on your moans, "Fuck, Oh My God, NEGAN, FUCK!" Gripping his shoulders as you ride the wave of pleasure. Dropping your head to his shoulder, breathing heavy as he removes his hand from between your legs.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers. "Sweet as fucking sugar."

Standing he turns you quickly, pushing your upper body over his desk. You hear the zipper of his pants before you feel him step up behind you, large hands gripping your ass, pulling you back towards his hips as he leans over your body, whispering in a husky voice, "I'm going to fuck you till your scream."

Bringing a hand between your legs again he teases your clit, causing you to moan lightly, pressing back into him. He starts rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance and you push back again, causing him to give you a quick swat to the ass, "Don't be greedy."

Pressing your head into the desk, waiting, allowing him to tease and torture you, whatever he wants. Knowing he won't be able to hold out for long. Finally he slides his dick deep inside you. You moan at the size of it, filling you up. "That's my girl, take it all."

Grasping your hair again he pulls your head back while keeping his other hand firmly on the center of your back, keeping you bent over, as he starts slamming his hips into you with quick jerks. "So fucking wet, so fucking tight," He starts out slow but his need starts to take over and the pace quickens. You're moaning as he grunts, slamming into you again and again, he's getting close, his rhythm starts getting more frantic and sloppy, "Yes, Negan, fuck, please," your shouting out incoherently while you chase your own orgasm. Bringing his hand between your legs to rub your clit with one final thrust you both tip over the edge. Squeezing your eyes shut as your second orgasm rips through you, squeezing his dick as his release pumps into you.           

He slides out of you and sits back on his chair, leaning his sweaty head back, catching his breath. "God, fucking, Damn. You were worth the wait." 

Leaning down and grabbing his white shirt off the floor, he wipes sweat off his body, before cleaning the cum off his dick and tossing the shirt into your face. "Put it on." It isn't a request. Pulling it over your head, jumping at his sudden shout, "Gavin!"

The office door opens, a guard sicks his head in. Clearly he heard everything, judging by his red face and averted eyes. "Take my wife to her new room."

With that, you're escorted from the room, down a short hall and into the deserted lounge. Marched down another short hall before being pushed into a dark room. Wearing nothing but Negan's dirty used white shirt you crawl wearily into bed. Knowing tomorrow will be a long day. Wondering if Negan will be true to his word about letting you go on runs. Dreading your new life as a bastardized wife.    



Waking the next morning with a jerk. Light filters through a window in your room, glinting off a ring sitting on a bedside table. A note under the ring simply says "Wife". You glare at it, a simple metal circle, no fancy stones or engravings, but black. Black as your fucking heart.

The sick bastard gave you a black wedding ring. 

Chewing your bottom lip, surveying your new room in the light of day. It's fairly large. A fluffy charcoal gray rug on the floor matches your bedding, a mix of charcoal gray, black and deep purple. A dark gray arm chair sits in one corner with an inviting amethyst throw draped over it.  Sighing heavily you rise and go to the closet, looking for something to wear, pulling it open to reveal several black dresses, lingerie and heels. All in your size. Nothing practical.

Pulling open drawers on the dresser, lacy push-up bras and thongs taunt you. Grunting in frustration you slam the draws closed. Closing your eyes and taking deep breaths. You hear movement from outside of your room and you assume it's the other wives. Great.

Gritting your teeth you open the drawers again and select a black bra and thong. Pulling on the least reveling of the dresses, a sleeveless boat-neck, and kitten heels out of the closet you dress quickly. Throwing you hair into a messy bun. Leaving your room determined to find Sherry and the box Nick packed last night. Needing your old clothes back. 

Entering the main lounge area, halting as four pairs of eyes swivel toward you. They look like cutouts from a magazine. Perfect hair, soft lightly scented skin, perfect makeup, manicured nails. Immediately your body wants to cave in on itself. Messy hair, ragged nails, scars, bruises, you don't belong here. Pressing your back against the wall, slowly sliding toward the door, toward escape. The wives regard you with wide eyes. Sherry rises uncertainly from her seat at the breakfast table but you bolt out the door before she speaks. 

Hurrying down the hall. Away from the wives and your new prison. Heart pounding. Heading down the stairs, seeing a clock on the wall, knowing it is toward the end of breakfast in the cafe.  

Walking through the doors, it's mostly empty. Just a small table of saviors and another table towards the back. Your heart swells, your old group. Hurrying toward the hot line to grab a bowl of oatmeal you stop short when the kitchen door slams open.


You freeze, it's Laura. "How DARE you show your face in here!"

Turning to face her, stomach rolling, her husband is dead because of you. Realizing too late, you shouldn't have come here. 

"After everything, EVERYTHING, we did for you. We protected you! And what did you do? Ran. Like you always do. Ran away and the rest of us had to pay. We were locked up! My husband is DEAD because of YOU! You should have slit your wrists a long time ago. Would have saved us all a lot trouble. No one gives a shit about you anymore. You're nothing. You're worthless!' Her hand swinging out, backhanding you across the face with a crack. Stumbling back, defeated, empty. "Have your oatmeal, you selfish bitch!" Shoving a bowl of oatmeal into your hands.

Grasping at it numbly, turning and stumbling toward the back table. The one with your old group. They stand as one as you approach. Anger and sadness mixed in their eyes. Liz runs to comfort Laura. The others walk toward the door, without a word to you. Watching them go, Pitt and Cam are with them.    

Staring vacantly at the door for several minutes before turning away in a daze. You walk puppet-like toward the doors to leave, absentmindedly cradling the bowl of oatmeal. Snickering at the saviors table draws your attention. Glancing over you see Nick, sitting among them. Catching your eye he raises a glass to you, causing the whole table to roar with laughter. 

Turning and hurling the oatmeal at the wall. It smashes, dripping thick globs toward the floor. You slam the doors open as you storm out. Before anyone can see the tears in your eyes.

Hurrying back up to the top floor, to the wives area. Hurrying through the doors, the wives turn in alarm at your hasty return. Sherry stands quickly, concern on her face, "What happened?" Trying to rush toward you.

Grasping a lamp off a table you hurl it towards her in warning. Smashing it on the floor at her feet. She stops, staring at the floor in horror as Amber gives a startled scream. Rushing to your room while they're distracted. Slamming the door and locking it behind you before sinking to the floor. Head in your hands, rocking slightly. Frantically trying to get yourself under control. Your whole body is shaking. Choking on sobs trying to escape your throat, forcing them down. You need to be stronger then this. Digging your nails into your skin, tearing at the flesh. You need to get control. Repeating over and over in a hushed voice, "I'm ok, I'm ok, I'm ok, I'm ok." 

A light knock at the door, "Tess?"

It's Sherry. 

"Are you ok? What happened?"

Closing your eyes, stifling a sob with your arm, choking out, "I'm fine." Willing her to leave you alone.

She tries the door.

"Tess, let me in."

The door rattles again. 

"Do I have to get Negan?"

Squeezing your eyes shut, "Just leave me alone. I'm fine."

You hear a heavy sigh, "Look, Dwight told me what happened, he stopped up here on his way to the new recruit assessment. I know you're not OK in there, so let me in."

Angrily standing, swiping a hand across your face to ensure there are no tears, why won't she leave you alone. This is exactly why you didn't want to be rooming near the other wives. Opening the door with a jerk, Sherry takes a startled step back. She's holding a box. Glaring at her, angrily gesturing toward yourself, "See! I'm fine," snatching the box out of her hands, "Go away." Slamming and re-locking the door. 

Her voice comes through the door again, "We're here if you want to talk. We've all been there." 

Snorting, shaking your head. Pacing back and forth in your room. Rolling your head and shoulders, trying to relive some tension. Pawing through the box. Happy to find your old clothes and boots. Naturally none of your weapons were present. Chewing the inside of your cheek. drumming your fingers on the box. Laura's words playing over and over in your head. 

"You should have slit your wrists a long time ago."
"Would have saved us all a lot trouble."
"No one gives a shit about you anymore."
"You're nothing."
"You're worthless." 
"You should have slit your wrists a long time ago." 
"Would have saved us all a lot trouble." 
"No one gives a shit about you anymore."
"You're nothing." 
"You're worthless."  
"You're nothing." 
"You're worthless."  
"You're nothing." 
"You're worthless."  

Angrily turning and throwing the box full of clothes, knocking a painting off the wall. As if art is even relevant in this world anymore. The overwhelming urge to destroy everything overtakes you. Punching the wall in frustration. Without your weapons you won't get far. Negan probably has the guards on high alert. No way to sneak out, and that would probably just get someone else killed. Think, think. There must be something you can destroy with minimal consequences. Sinking onto the bed, rubbing your face in your hands, glaring at your new ring.   

Standing suddenly, ripping off the dress and shoes, quickly pulling on a shirt and pants from off the floor, securing your boots. Hurrying out the door, through the lounge, Amber cowers on a sofa as you hurry by.      

Sherry's voice follows you out into the hall, "Wait, where are you going."

Ignoring her, rushing down the flights of steps, out into the bright sun. Quickly jogging over to the mechanic area, into the dim garage, frantically searching the shelves.

"Hey, Honey, need help finding something?"

The man must see something in your expression when you lock eyes with him. Immediately holding his hands up and backing away, as if from a rabid animal. Holding up a pipe wrench, "I need to borrow this."

"Sure, ok, take it." 

Walking past him, stopping, noticing bolt cutters on the floor, "And these."

"Sure, whatever you need." His hands are still raised, swallowing nervously.     

Walking past him without another look, Mike enters the workshop as you reach the door. His eyes darken in anger when he sees you, spiting aggressively on the floor at your feet.

Wishing he had just hit you like Laura. It would hurt less.

Looking through him, no time to stop now, shouldering your way out the door. The blood is pounding in your ears as you head around the building. Hoping no one alerts Negan until you're done.  

Chapter Text

Rounding the last corner, gritting your teeth in annoyance when you see two guards standing near the chute that leads to the walker pens. It's too late to turn back. Approaching, hoping they let you pass without question.

"Where do you think you're going?" The Guard on the right eyes you menacingly. The one on the left curses under his breath avoiding your eye.

"The pens." No point in lying, there's nothing else on this side of the building. 

"Simon's doing assessments." You glare at him for a minute, chewing the inside of your cheek, judging his resolve. Eyes flicking over to the other guard, it's Russ. No wonder he is avoiding getting involved. Satisfied he won't be intervening your eyes flick back to the guard on the right. "Are you fucking brain-dead? I said get lost!!" pulling his gun out as a threat. It's aimed at the ground, but the message is clear. Russ cringes, still resolutely staring into the dirt.

Grunting in frustration, dropping the bolt cutters, slamming the pipe wrench into the hand holding the gun. The man cradles his broken hand cursing as you jam the wrench into the waist band of your pants. Calmly bending down to retrieve his gun and the bolt cutters.

You're feeling better already. Adrenaline pumping through your veins from attacking the guard. 

Smirking at Russ, "Hi Russ." He's starring at you warily. Pointing the gun in Russ's face, considering him, "Are we friends?" 


"Are we friends, Russ?" Lamenting, "I seem to have lost all my friends..." Tilting your head to the side, "Do you want to be my friend?" 

He's starring at you in confusion. 

"The reason I ask is... I don't usually shoot my friends."

Stammering over his reply "Ummm, sure, yeah, we... uhhhh, we can be friends." 

Pulling the gun out of his face, "So you wouldn't mind if I," Gesturing carelessly with the gun down the chute toward the pens, Russ and the other guard cringing every-time the barrel points their way. 

Russ nods enthusiastically, "Yeah, sure, but..." Lowering his voice, "Simon's down there, with a group. For assessment." Raising your eyebrow at him in question, "I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble."

Snickering as you move away, "Sure you wouldn't." 

Ambling down the chute toward your goal. A scrawny man is ending his assessment as you enter the ring. He took out two walkers but seems shaken up.


As you enter a few guards raise weapons. Ignoring them, heading straight to Simon. Stopping in front of him, waiting for him to break the silence. He rolls his eyes, gesturing for the guards to put their guns down. 



"What are you doing..."

Shrugging, tossing the bolt cutters to the ground at your side, no longer needed, "Oh, you know," waving the gun slightly, "just came by, to blow off some steam."

"Where'd you get the gun?"

Turning a little, gesturing behind you, "I may have broken some guys hand for it." 

Exasperation coloring his words, "You broke someone's hand?"

"I'm having a real bad day, Simon..." 

"No shit. Do you really want to push his fucking limits... again?"

A nervous laugh escapes you at the reference to Negan, your new husband, "I just need to take the edge off."

Eyeing you suspiciously, "take the edge off?" 

"I'm feeling pent up. It's these rules, Simon... I'm shitty at following the rules..."

Unimpressed, "Clearly." 

"New rooms, new clothes, the wives, can't leave the grounds, can't hurt anyone..." Frowning to yourself, glancing back, "shit, guess I fucked that one up."

A guard is trying to sneak up on your right side, sidling up near the new group. Ignoring him turning back to face Simon. "Open the pen for me..." 

You can tell he's stalling for time, weighing your habit of making bad choices with how pissed Negan might be. 

"Just let me have a few of them." Your voice has taken on a pleading tone, "Please, Simon, I need this."

The guard to your right starts making his move, turning quickly you fire a bullet past his head. He stops cold, feeling his ear where the bullet grazed. Snarling, "The next one, won't fucking miss." 

"Believe her, Tony" Simon draws not even looking at him, "I've seen her fuck shit up for a whole lot less."

Pointing the gun at Simon now, frustration coloring your words, "Come on! Open it!"

"It's your funeral," shaking his head. Raising his voice, "Alright, you sorry sacks of shit, watch and learn." With that he slides open the gate wide and walkers start stumbling out. 

"Yes!" Grinning, taking a few steps back. The guards have their weapons raised and the new group is cowering back. Quickly lifting your gun, taking out the first five walkers with head shots. The clip, now empty, rendering the gun useless, you pistol whip the nearest walker until it's temple caves in. Gore running down your arm.

Side kicking the next walker in the knee, snapping it, causing it to fall to the ground, dragging itself pathetically toward the new group, mouth open, groaning. You slam your boot into its head until its just a blood smear in the dirt. Your pants are flecked in brains, and bone.

Pulling the pipe wrench from your waist band, swinging with brutal abandon. Smashing the faces of anything within reach. Blood is flying everywhere. It's in your hair, your face, dripping down your arms. Every hit relieving some of your pent up rage. Curses raining freely from your mouth.

"Stupid, fucking, useless, pieces of shit. Ugly ass mother fuckers." 

A walker veers away from your fury, angling itself toward a guard on the side. Taking a running step, swinging, bashing it's skull in from behind, spraying blood into the guards face. 

Another walker is closing in on one of the new people, she's cowering in fear, head turned away, tears streaming down her face, knife held limply in her hands. Her weakness enrages you. She would be better off dead. Shouldering the walker aside, it stumbles sideways as you grab the knife out of her loose grip. Snarling, "Move!" Shoving her the other way before turning and plunging the knife into the walkers head.

Yanking it out, laughing, admiring how the light catches the blade dripping with blood. You whip it towards the next closest walker, taking it down. Continuing on your rampage with the pipe wrench. The adrenaline pumping through your veins makes you feel like every nerve is alive. Laughing in manic glee as you swing the wrench again and again.

You're unsure how long you've been on your killing frenzy when Simon starts sliding the gate back. Turning toward him, enraged, "What the hell!?!?" Only one walker left,  


It's skull explodes next to you. Flinging blood and brain everywhere.

Furious, turning to see what asshole killed your last walker, "What Motherfucker..." Your words die on your lips at what you see. 

"Careful...." Negan's sing-song voice calls out. Stuffing a gun back in his pants, slowly approaching. Everyone else already on their knees. "Careful what you say to me, doll."

Holding you're arms out to the side, letting the Pipe wrench fall from listless fingers. Falling to your knees, not breaking eye contact with him, breathing his name, "Negan."

He smirks down at you, anger in his eyes, "Hello, dear wife."   

Several people exchange worried glances at the news that you're one of Negan's wives. Dropping your eyes from his. Dirt, blood and gore cover you from head to toe. Your heart hammers in your chest, cowering below him, waiting for his fury to explode over you. 

"Nothing to say for yourself? I come down here to see how my new recruits are sizing up and instead I find my hellcat of a wife, fucking shit up! And as much as that shit turns me on... I think you already know, what's coming your way." 

He towers above you in silence for several minutes. 

Seemingly satisfied with your submission, stepping behind you to consult lowly with Simon. Attempting to slink off while Negan is distracted, stopping immediately when Lucille's barbs dig into your shoulder. Frantically searching for something to lessen his anger while you wait for your punishment to begin. The discarded bolt cutters are to your right. Rotten corpses littering the ground all around you. Sunlight glinting off a walker to your left draws your eye.


Finishing with Simon, Negan turns his attention back to you. "Stand up."

Getting to your feet obediently. He stands in front of you considering. Eyes cutting through you, teeth bared in anger. "Here's how this shit is going to go. You're going to go upstairs with Arat. You're gonna go to the showers and get cleaned up. You will put on appropriate fucking clothing. You will return to your room and Dr Carson will be waiting to take a look at you. IF I hear that you were ANYTHING other than a perfect, fucking, angel, during all of that... well, sweetheart... I'll make you wish you were deader than one of these fucks down here. Are. We. Clear?"

Swallowing thickly before answering, "Yes."

Leaning in, his gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine. "I don't know what the fuck you were thinking with this stunt. I told you... Last. Fucking. Night. What it would take for you to be allowed out of the gates again. You are off to a very rocky start, princess."

Clearing your throat, he arches an eyebrow at you while rearing back, clearly not expecting an answer. "I owed you a present."

"A present?" Unimpressed with your justification. Raising his voice, "You hear that boys? My dear wife came ALL the fuckity fucking way down here... to get me a present... Well... Let's see it, darling. Don't keep us all picking our asses."

Smiling coquettishly at him, slowly turning to pick the bolt cutters off the ground, confidently striding to the walker on the left that caught your eye. Tugging it's hand toward you, smiling at the satisfying crunch of bone as the bolt cutters slice the ring finger off the left hand. Standing, sliding the shining golden ring off before discarding the rotting finger over your shoulder.

"I owed you a ring..." Holding your hand out to Negan, "husband."

His lips briefly quirking in amusement before returning to an annoyed glower. Calling over his shoulder, "Arat, take her."

Arat steps forward and you immediately collect your makeshift weapons, following her away from the pens before Negan's voice calls out, stopping you.

"And Tess..." Waiting until you turn back to face him. "You will apologize to the other wives... for your behavior today."

Giving him a curt nod before he dismisses you with a wave of his hand. 




Walking back around the building with Arat, you veer off near the mechanic area to return the tools. Walking ino the open bay doors, seeing the man who gave you permission to take them bent over an engine block, grease covering his hands.

Striding up to him he straightens, seeing you coming. Eyebrows disappearing into his hairline at your bloody appearance. Dropping them unceremoniously into his hands. "Thanks." Turning before he responds. Heading back outside where Arat is waiting.

Passing Mike. You both avoid eye contact. It's better that way.

Arat doesn't talk as you head back upstairs.

Walking past the double doors that lead to your gilded prison, you see the other wives out of the corner of your eye. A few steps past the door, remembering Negan's command to apologize. Stopping, giving a heavy sigh, turning back around and stepping into the lounge. 

Amber gives a squeak of fright at your appearance. Sherry stares, alarmed. The other two eyeing you in trepidation.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, trying to think of what to say to them. "I'm sorry..." Clearing your throat awkwardly, "for my behavior... earlier" Standing stiffly in the middle of the room. Unsure if you should say anything else.

"You're getting blood on the carpet." An haughty voice to your left states. Amber nervously giggles.

Lifting one boot you see a bloody print where you're standing. Huffing in frustration you turn, stomping out of the room, heading toward the showers. Arat trailing close behind you.



The wives bathroom is immaculate. Marble counter-tops, Mirrors with salon lighting. A huge tub against one wall, large shower with floor to ceiling glass doors and a rainfall shower head is against another. Makeup, perfume, lotions, hair products and styling tools line the counter. The lights seem too bright, the room too clean to exist in this new world. 

Catching site of yourself in the mirror, covered in blood and gore, ruining the pristine room. Completely out of your element. Wondering why Negan even wants you as a wife when he has the others, who fit perfectly into the mold.  

Pulling your shirt off, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor, followed by the rest of you clothes and boots. Fully nude, glancing at Arat, her eyes haven't left you. Negan's trusted guard dog to the end.

Grumbling, "I'm not gonna run, you can go back to your master now," turning on the water.

Sneering at you, "I was told to watch you, and unlike you, I actually know how to follow the rules."

Rolling your eyes at her, stepping into a steaming shower. Watching as the water fades from browns and reds to clear before lathering up with a sickeningly floral scented shampoo. Trying to relax and ignore the fact that you probably just ruined your chances of being let out of the gates for a very long time.

After toweling off and stepping to the sink, searching in vain for an unscented lotion, you notice Arat has a small bundle of clothes next to her. "What're those?"

She raises her eyebrow at you, "What the fuck do they look like?"

Choosing a vanilla scented lotion, you eyeball the pile with suspicion. Knowing Arat wouldn't have left you alone in the bathroom. Guessing Sherry brought them. Picking up the item on top, a black lace camisole, so sheer, you can see Arat smirking at you through the fabric as you glare at it in disdain. Her amusement triggers a nerve.    

Pulling it on, "How're things with Cam? He kick your ass to the curb yet?"

You know in an instant your words hit the mark. Her smirk turns into a scowl as she straights to her full height.

Sliding on the barely there panties, twisting the knife for good measure, "I told you, he only likes one night stands."

"Shut the fuck up before I smash your teeth in." Arat roughly grabs your arm, marching you back toward the lounge. 

Snickering to yourself as she pushes you through the doors and down the hall toward your room. Dr Carson is waiting with Sherry and your smirk instantly fades when you see the needle in his hand.

Trying to back up, Arat grasps you firmly by the shoulders, forcing you into the room. Sherry quickly steeping forward helping Arat hold you still as he plunges the needle into your skin, "What is that?" You're still trying to pull away but almost instantly you feel your limbs start to grow heavy. 

Dr Carson starts directing them to move you to the bed. "What... what was that?" It's getting harder to talk. You're mind is a blur. 

You see the doctor's mouth moving but the voice seems to come from far away, "Just a sedative... to help you sleep."

You're struggling to remain conscious, screaming in your head that you don't want it, but the words aren't coming out of your mouth. Just as your vision goes black you feel metal sliding into place on your wrists.  



Chapter Text

You wake to a dark room. Groggy. Mouth dry. Struggling to get comfortable realizing your hands are awkwardly handcuffed to a chain attached to the headboard. Only allowing minimal movement. Your thoughts are hazy as you attempt to sit up. Finally resigning yourself to rolling to one side. Breath catching in your throat when you notice a shadowy figure, silently sitting in a chair, watching you.

Freezing instantly, hairs standing on end. Trying to focus your shifting vision on the chair. Wondering if its real or a trick of the light.

Minutes pass in silence. No movement. Your body starts to calm down. Remembering the throw on top of the chair. Just a trick of the light. The rush of adrenaline from fright ebbing away.

Resting your pounding head back down grumbling, "I'm loosing my God damned mind."

"That's not all your gonna loose, doll." A deep rumbling voice from the shadows.

Jerking in fright, cowering back until your back hits the wall, as far as your restraints allow.

Negan's dark figure approaches the bed, mattress dipping dramatically when he sits. Your body rolling forward bumping into him. Clicking on the lamp next to your bed, the sudden light blinding you. His hand painfully gripping the scruff of your neck while the other lovingly strokes along your hair and face, "Nice of you to finally wake up, wife."

Fear griping you as you struggle to prop yourself into a more comfortable position. Words spilling out of your mouth, hoping to calm his rage. "Negan, I... I'm sorry. Please...."

Cutting you off. "Sherry spoke to me about your morning. It was an emotional God damned day. I get it... Shit... It's gotta be a real kick in the lady balls to find out, all, of your fucking friends abandoned you. Even shit dick number 1 and shit dick number 2. Not as fucking loyal as you thought huh... I bet you never saw that shit coming."

His large hand releases you neck, twisting into your hair, pulling your head back to an uncomfortable angle. He bends his head toward you, running his nose up the side of your throat, whispering huskily in your ear, "I would never abandon you like that." His teeth nip at your earlobe before he abruptly releases you. Your body falling back onto the bed. 

"Now... I knew this was gonna be an adjustment period for you, you were bound to fuck up. And fuck up you did. BUT, since I'm such a forgiving man, I'm not giving up on you. Not yet." Rubbing the scruff on his jaw laughing. "When I'm done with you, you're gonna to be fucking magnificent." 

Walking to the closet and pulling the doors wide, "So, I got a little creative in my lesson today." When he steps aside you see the closet is empty. He pulls something out of his back pocket. "I figured, If you're gonna act like a wild animal... I should treat you like one." Holding up a strip of leather, something dangling off a ring in the center catches the light. Frowning at him in confusion. 

A slow predatory grin is creeping across his face as he walks toward you, fitting the leather snugly around you neck, securing it in place. "The first step to taming a wild animal is to let it know who's boss... And I most certainly am, your boss." 

Fighting down the urge to vomit, "Where are my clothes?"

"Oh you mean the clothes you weren't fucking wearing when you were outside going berserk on those dead fucks? I took them away, kitten. Only good girls get fancy clothes. If you want your clothes back, you will earn your clothes back, by showing me your undying devotion, as any loving wife would." His eyes scan your form, the sheer tank and panties, eyes darkening in lust. "If you continue to fuck up, I will continue to treat you like an animal. Today it's the collar. The next step is being lead around on a very short leash and after that? Well... I'm sure I can think of something, extra fucking special..."

Your body feels numb as he lists off the punishments for future transgressions. The collar chafing your neck. Making you feel trapped and claustrophobic.  

Negan's commanding voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "Do you understand me?"

Nodding your head quickly, "Yes."

He seems satisfied with your quick response. Sitting on the bed again. Biting his lip playfully as he brushes the back of a hand up your arm, "Are you sorry for how you acted today, sweetness?" 

Biting your lip, avoiding his eye, showing your submission, "Yes, Negan."

Leaning close, nuzzling your neck, goosebumps flooding your skin, "And do you want to show me how sorry you are?" 

"Yes, Negan," breath shaky as he starts kissing your neck, large calloused hand inching up your thigh, knowing he wants to hear you beg, "please... let me show you." His hand is skimming the top of your panties before sliding under your tank. Turning your face toward him, nipping his lip when he kisses you, trying to goad him into more, so he will release your cuffs. His hand is suddenly at your throat, pressing you firmly against the headboard. 

"Do you want more?" Biting aggressively where your neck meets your collar bone. 

"Yes." Trying to arch yourself toward him.

He stops abruptly, starring coldly into your eyes, "Then fucking earn it."

With that he stands from the bed, turning off the lamp and walking out without another word. You hear a door down the hall and after a few minuets the tell-tale sounds of a bed creaking and moaning. 

Dropping your head back against the headboard in frustration, pulling on the cuffs and chain, hands scrabbling around the collar, looking for a way to remove it. Finally resigning yourself that you will have to wait and see what tomorrow brings. Determined to follow his rules.


When morning finally comes, Sherry peaks her head in, "Are you decent?"

Biting your tongue, already annoyed.  

How exactly did she plan on finding you? She brought Arat the ridiculously sheer outfit you're wearing. She helped handcuff you to the bed after, the esteemed, Doctor Carson doped your ass up on a sedative. She probably knows Negan visited you last night. At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if she helped him pick out the fucking collar.

Stepping into the room with Amber tentatively following behind her. "I have the key to your cuffs, if you want breakfast..." 

Glaring at them both, but shifting your hands to give Sherry access to free you. 

Amber's hesitant voice, "Did... Did you sleep ok?"

"I was chained to the bed, what the fuck do you think?" 

She flinches back from your harsh words and you swallow the curses you want to hurl at them both. Negan has made it clear he expects you to "make nice" with the other wives. 

Sighing in frustration, "Sorry... I just need..." Your mind searching for an excuse for being moody in the morning. Apparently, being chained to the bed isn't good enough. "Coffee. I need coffee"

Amber brightens, "We have coffee!"

Massaging your wrists now that the cuffs are off, trying to grin enthusiastically back, "Great!" Amber cringes back, quickly leaving the room. Dropping your head into your hands and massaging your temples groaning. 

Sherry snickering, "Been awhile since you socialized huh?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Great!" Sherry imitates you. Demonstrating your grin had looked more crazed then grateful. 

"You don't happen to have any clothes I can borrow do you?" Looking down at your barely there outfit. 

Sherry drops her eyes, "Sorry, I would but..."

Huffing, "Right, Negan... I get it."

Following her out of your room and toward the table, the others are already seated, chatting quietly among themselves. You take a seat at the table. Choosing a chair with your back to the wall instead of the door, keeping an empty seat between you and the others. Amber discreetly sliding a coffee your way

Sherry takes her seat, clearing her throat, "Everyone, this is Tess. Tess, you already know Amber and I. Nicole is the redhead and Marie the brunette."

Nodding your head at them when their eyes pass over you. Fiddling with your coffee cup. Looking over the table there is a wide variety of food considering the state of the world. Scrambled eggs, bacon, rolls and a selection of fruits.

Since your arrival the chatter has died away and their eyes keep flicking over to you. Ignoring their questioning glances you eat your food, eyes down, wishing you were anywhere but here. Feeling like you're in high-school unexpectedly sitting at the cheerleaders table.

Sherry suddenly standing, looking toward the door alerts everyone's attention. Following her eye line, your heart nearly seizing up in your chest at what you see.

Pitt and Negan are standing in the door. Your fork clatters to the plate through numb fingers. You can feel everyone's eyes on you as the color drains from your face.

"What do we have here?!" Negan's jovial voice booms through the room. "All of my smokin hot wive's enjoying breakfast together!" He strides confidently in as you all rise to your feet. "Like one big happy family!" Walking around the table kissing each wife on the forehead, murmuring comments as he goes.

Pitt walks directly up to you. Dumping a bundle of clothes on the table. An emerald green and black lace bra with matching thong lying prominently on top of a folded black dress. Your blood is ice as you meet his eyes, seeing only dark resentment. Not even a hint of familiarity. 

Negan's large warm hands grasping your shoulders jolts your attention away. He presses himself against you from behind, bringing a hand under your jaw, tipping your face back and to the side as he delivers a lingering kiss. Pulling away slightly, "Tonight, I'll let you show me how sorry you are," smirking at Pitt, "for your behavior yesterday." Pitt's jaw tightens and he shoots you a look of disgust before marching to stand by the door. 

It feels like a knife in the gut.

Negan tisks in your ear, "I would never treat you like that." Delivering a final kiss to your forehead before exiting with Pitt trailing behind. 

When they're gone you sink back into your seat, pushing your uneaten food away. Mouth dry, unseeing eyes staring straight ahead. You feel completely hollow. A husk of a human being. Four pairs of eyes are starring at you with bated breath.

Amber breaks the silence, "Was... was that your boyfriend?"

Turning your vacant eyes her way, "What?"

She blinks her large baby blues, glancing nervously toward the door. Like she's expecting a phantom Negan to drag her away. Swallowing nervously, lowering her voice, "That man... Was he... your boyfriend? I mean... before." She looks down at the table, twisting her hands, "before... Negan."

You can't understand the anguish you see in her eyes. Why would she even care what Pitt was to you. She looks on the verge of tears. Pathetic and weak. To let someone else's perceived pain effect her so much. 

Your voice is flat, monotone when you answer, "He's no one."     

Marie replies bitterly, "Bullshit."

Raising your eyebrow at her, same flat voice, "If I died tomorrow, he wouldn't shed a tear."

"But he was in the group you came in with, him and another guy were in the hospital wing with bullet holes in their legs," Nicole insists. "The ones who tried to rob a truck."

Turning a baleful glare her way. Not saying a word. 

"That was your group?" Sherry putting the pieces together, nails in your coffin, "Wait... You were the bait?"

Amber gasps horrified, "They used you as bait?"

You wish they would just shut up. What is the purpose of talking about this. Sighing heavily, "Yes, I was bait, that's generally what happens when you have no one."

Marie eyes you suspiciously, "Negan wouldn't have bothered bringing him, if he means nothing."

Feeling your temper spike. You need to leave before you loose control. Standing from the table, snatching the clothes, stating rigidly, "He's no one." Heading out the door toward the wives showers. Praying no one follows you. 



When you get back to the lounge it's empty. Grateful that at least one thing went your way today, you head back to your room. First, you go through your closet and every drawer. Unsurprised, to find Negan took everything. Slamming the last drawer shut, a reflection in the mirror catches your eye. The leather bondage collar around your neck, small charm hanging off of it. Leaning in, you see a crisp N stamped onto the charm. Your own personal dog tag. Rolling your eyes at the impudence. 

Walking to your bed to inspect the chain that attached the cuffs to your headboard. If Negan hadn't cleared out your room, you would have been able to use your lock picks on it. Why the fuck hadn't you had the forethought to hide some of your important shit? If you ever get your things back you will be sure to squirrel away necessities.

Sitting on the bed, chewing on your lip. There has to be some kind of way out of this nightmare. The way Pitt looked at you was haunting.

Sure, you weren't expecting him to give you a warm embrace, but the absolute loathing you saw in his face. If he judged you so harshly for everything, you knew, with certainty, everyone else was completely through. Like Laura said. It would have been better if it all ended a long time ago. With your husband and child.

Tears prick your eyes, feeling hopeless and abandoned. You should have run when you had the chance. Why didn't you run? 

You hear voices in the lounge.  Panicking someone will come in and see you this way. Crying and weak.

They would probably want to talk about it.

Talk. The cheapest form of therapy.

Rashly diving into the closet just as your door opens.


It's Sherry.

Closing your eyes, willing her to go away, focusing on getting control over your emotions. 

"Is she in there?" Amber.

Breath in, digging your nails into your legs. Focus on the pain. Gritting your teeth. Breath out.  

"No... But, Tyler said she came into the lounge..."

Breath in, Focus on the pain. Squeezing your eyes shut. Breath out.  

Amber snorting, "And you believed him? Tyler never looks above anyone's tits."

Breath in, concentrating on nothing. Breath out, a black void...

"Let's check the cafe."

Breath in, concentrating on nothing. Breath out, a black void...

"We need to find her before tonight..."

Breath in... Nothing... Breath out, a black void...

"We will, she couldn't have gotten far. I can ask Dwight."

Breath in... Nothing... Breath out, a black void...

Their voices fade away as they leave.

Breath in... Nothing... Breath out, a black void...

Leaning your head back against the wall.

Breath in... Nothing... Breath out, a black void...

Opening your eyes.  

Breath in... Nothing... Breath out, a black void...

Leaving the closet, staring at your empty broken eyes in the mirror. You haven't felt this isolated and alone in a long time. Reduced to hiding in closets like a fucking cockroach. You haven't done that shit since grade school... Since before Pitt started opening his window... Giving you a way out... Squeezing your eyes shut, bending your head. Gritting your teeth at the, now painful, memory.

You just need a way out.

Taking a shaky breath. It's over. It's done. Don't think about it. Don't think about what you lost. Just move on.

You can survive if you just move on.

It's done, it's over. Move on.


Memories only hurt you if you let them. 

It's done, it's over. Move on. 

Cursing under your breath. "God, I need a fucking drink." Remembering the bar in the lounge. Not sure what time it is.

Snickering to yourself, "Fuck it, it's five o'clock somewhere." Catching site of your reflection. You looked deranged. Alone in a room, giggling to yourself like a madman. No wonder you make the other wives nervous. 

Heading into the hall toward the lounge. Over to the bar. Your heart freezes in your chest when you hear a small voice behind you.

"So you were here..."

Turning, it's Amber. Alone on the couch. "Sherry told me to stay, in case you came back."

Monotone, "Lucky you..." 
"Where were you? We looked in your room. Are you ok?"

Snorting turning back to the bar, "I'm fucking peachy. Want a drink?"

Amber's glum reply, pouting her lips, "We're out of Champagne."

Walking around the bar, searching the shelves, snatching up two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila, "Who wants to drink fucking champagne when we have this?" 

Amber eyes you warily, coming to sit at the bar, as you pour two shots, sliding one towards her. She huffs, toying with the shot while you continue to rummage around.

"So, that was your boyfriend, this morning, right?" looking at you coyly through her long bangs. "You were too upset for him to be no one..."

"What the fuck do you care?" Shooting your shot in irritation. "He wasn't my boyfriend... and now? He's even less."

She shrugs, sweeping long blond hair over one shoulder, "Sometimes it helps to talk to someone..."

"No, it fucking doesn't..."

Picking at her nails, "Maybe he wasn't your boyfriend..." A wicked gleam in her eye, "but you wanted him to be."    

"Really?" Starring at her in contempt.

You knew girls like Amber in high school, they would chum up to you, pretend to be your friend, right before sliding a knife in your back. Then? They would be all doe eyed innocence. Begging for your forgiveness.  

Vipers. All of them.  

No time for these petty, mean girl games. "Why don't you, tell me, about Mark?" 

The color drains from her face, "How do you know that name?" 

Parroting her words back to her, "Sometimes it helps to talk to someone..."

"Bitch!" She's partially leaning over the bar, teeth bared, fear etched on her face. 

"Oh," in mock surprise, "so, now you don't want to be besties?" 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" She seems genuinely shocked by your behavior, "We're supposed to look out for each other!"

"How about we just agree... You don't fuck with me, and I won't fuck with you..."

She lowers herself back to her seat, contemplating your offer, staring at her shot while you refill yours. Her face a mix of despair and indignation.  

Feeling a stab of guilt. Maybe you overreacted and she didn't have bad intentions. Maybe she really was just trying to be your friend.

Remembering how quickly your old group turned on you. You made the right decision. Trusting people was dangerous. Friends no longer exist.

Sherry hurries in, relief flooding her face at seeing you at the bar with Amber. "Thank God! Where have you been?"

"What does it matter?"

Sherry shoots Amber an exasperated look. "You didn't tell her?"

Amber throws her hands up, "You tell her! She clearly doesn't trust me!"

"Tell me what?"

Sherry levels her gaze at you, "We have all have dinner with Negan tonight. All the wives."


"So you can't look like you just rolled out of bed!" Amber rolls her eyes, "Jesus, your hair looks like you stuck you finger in an electric socket." 

"I took a shower and put on the fucking clothes he brought me!" 

"Your nails are a god damned disaster!" Amber states, inspecting one of your hands. 

"And some eye-shadow would really brighten your eyes, " Sherry comments with a grin.

Bristling with resentment, "Fuck off, with your eye shadow and polish. I'm not your fucking Barbie Doll!"

"Please," Amber is bouncing on her seat, hands clasped in front of her in excitement. "Please, can we do your hair and makeup?"

"If you don't want to be chained to the bed every-night, you need to play the game..." Sherry slyly interjects. 

Grinding your teeth, contemplating her words. Huffing in annoyance. She's right. If you can get Negan to think with his dick instead of his brain you have a better chance of getting some of your punishments lifted. A better chance of getting outside of the gates. A chance to run. 


Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Shooting another shot. "Fine."

"I'll go get my supplies!" Amber squeals in delight, running from the room.

Sherry chuckling behind you while she propels you toward the bathroom. "You just made her day, you know." 

Your stomach twists anxiously.

Fuck this fucking girly bullshit.    

Chapter Text

Entering the bathroom, Marie and Nicole are at the mirrors, primping, singing along to Mariah Carey, blasting out of a portable CD player in the corner. 

Nope, no. Fuck this. You can't do this. 

Trying to dig in your heels. Undeterred, Sherry continues nudging you forward into the center of the room. Amber triumphantly follows, toting a bag of God knows what.

Marie and Nicole turn to look at you. Voyeuristic fascination painted on their faces. Making you feel like even more of a freak show.

"Take a shower," Amber commands, sifting through her bag of horrors.

Looking at her like she has three heads, "I already did!"

"If I'm going to fix that..." Gesturing vaguely in your direction, "that rat nest you call your hair. You're gonna need another,"  glaring at it accusingly.

Grumbling incoherently under your breath while removing your clothes and stomping over to the shower. Reminding yourself this is serving a purpose. You need to play by these ridiculous rules if you are going to get a chance at running. 

"And make sure you deep condition while you're in there!" Amber's voice follows you. 

...Amber makes you "deep condition" 3 times before she's satisfied with the results... 

Stationed in nothing but a fluffy towel in the center of the room. The other 4 circling you, chewing their lips, debating the plan of attack.

"I definitely need to cut this," Amber laments, gesturing toward your hair, eyeing the counter of products she laid out. 

"Her nails are ragged," Sherry comments, "I'll have to cut them shorter then he normally likes."

"We'll need to pluck her eyebrows too," Marie has your chin in her hand, turning your face to each side, like she's studying a statue. "Your face isn't bad, it just needs..." eyeing you critically, "work..."

"You're tense," Nicole's hands kneed the tight muscles in your shoulders, "stress will give you wrinkles."

"What the fuck is all over your arms?" Marie grips your wrists, turning them over. The other's gasping at the site of your scars.

"It's nothing," trying to pull them away.

"Claimers..." Nicole whispers fearfully behind you. 

The other three share sad knowing looks. Keeping your mouth shut. A better option then explaining where your scars actually came from. 

Sitting you in a chair. Amber clips up your hair in various chunks, wielding scissors. Sherry begins attacking your nails. Nicole smears a concoction on your face that she insists will "tighten and brighten". Before you can tell her where to stick her "tightening and brightening" Marie has plopped a "lip mask" over your mouth.

You spend the next few hours being poked and prodded in the name of beauty. A clear reminder of why you had stuck to the bare minimum, even before civilization was destroyed.

Finally done they step back to admire their work. You stare back, defiantly tightening the towel around your body. 

"Nicole," Marie tilts her head to the side in thought, "go get the black dress... the a-line spaghetti strap one with the lace details..." Sniffing, "I'm not putting in all this work, for it to be ruined in that cast off dress Negan left this morning."

Nodding Nicole dashes from the room carrying the vetoed outfit with her. Calling over her shoulder, "What size shoe?"

Sherry responds automatically, "Six and a half." 

Amber bites her lip in concern, "Won't Negan be mad, he took her clothes as a punishment..." 

"Don't be stupid," Marie snorts, fingering a piece of your hair, "he wants to make a statement tonight."  

"Shouldn't you guys be getting ready?"

"For what?" Marie looks at you like you have three heads.

Obviously your missing something. "The... dinner?" 

"He's picking you tonight." Sherry waves your question away dismissively. Stepping forward, tongue poking out in concentration, adding more mascara and touching up your lipstick.

"Picking me...?"

Marie, exasperated, "To fuck, obviously..."  

Nicole rushes back in, holding a dress, strappy heels and a garnet red corset with matching panties.  

Amber humming in thought, lazily running her fingers through your hair, "Do you think I should leave her hair down, or put it up?"

"Down or in a pony, he likes something to grab onto." Nicole states with confidence, holding the corset up to you.

Sighing in resignation. Reminding yourself again why you are allowing this charade. Negan said he would remove some of the punishments if you made him happy. If this shit doesn't show your devotion, you don't know what will. 

Pulling on the new clothes and shoes, turning to face the wives. "Negan's gonna blow his load when he sees her," Nicole comments. The others nodding in agreement.

Nothing about your outfit feels natural. Tugging uncomfortably at the hem line, turning to face the mirror. 

Your eyes narrow momentarily before realizing the girl starring back at you IS you. Your normally frizzy messy hair has been transformed by Amber into sleek loose beachy waves that elegantly frame your face. The makeup looks like something out of a magazine, a delicate cat eye with plump inviting lips. The low cut, lace edged dress hugs your body in all the right ways. 

Grasping your elbow, all business, Sherry leads you back to the lounge, "Come on, let's get you a drink." 


Nursing your second drink, sitting at the bar, toying with a knife Sherry carelessly left on the bar after peeling an apple. Negan might have taken all of your weapons but he forgot about the ones laying in plain sight. While a steak knife isn't your first choice, it was better than nothing.

Attempting to hitch up the top of your dress again. The corset underneath is digging into your ribs and pushing your boobs up to an alarming degree.

"Stop fiddling with it!" Sherry chastises. She's been spending the past hour trying to get you to act more lady like. Schooling you in sitting properly, not picking at your nails, not slouching.

Blowing hair out of your face, your exhausted and dinner hasn't even started.  

A short time later Simon arrives to escort the wives down to the dining area. Trailing behind the others Simon's mouth pops open when he sees you. Wiping a hand over his face, "Well, look at you..." Glaring at him as you shoulder past. Feeling completely vulnerable, trying to cross your arms to cover yourself from his gaze. Simon stays by your shoulder, snickering at your obvious discomfort. 

Entering same dining room the savior dinner was served in, the table is set, candles flickering in the dim lighting. Your mind is in overdrive, scrambling to come up with a reason to go back upstairs and hide. Sensing your hesitation, Sherry grabs your arm in a firm grip, leading you to a chair.   

Everyone jumps to their feet when Negan arrives. He stomps confidently into the room, standing at the head of the table, directly to your right. "How are my wives this fine fucking evening?"

A jumbled mix of "Goods and fines" follow as you keep your eyes stubbornly fixed on the table in front of you. Trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. 

"Hooooooooly Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit..." You cringe, knowing he must have spotted you. "What the fuck do we have here?"

Glancing to the side you see his eyes trained on you, slowly roving over your body. Walking behind you, his hands gripping your waist pulling you against his body as he smells your hair groaning, hands wandering freely. "If I knew you girls wanted a little project, I would have sent you a pet earlier." The wives looked pleased with his praise. Kissing your hair as he moves away, motioning for everyone to sit. 

Negan attacks his meal with gusto. Your muscles relax now that his attention has been temporarily side tracked.   

Amber takes a dainty sip of wine, "How are things at the outposts? Wasn't there a big meeting today?"

His eyes swivel to Amber, glowering "Fucking, excuse me?"

She swallows nervously, "I thought..."

Gravely voice dripping with disdain, "In case it's escaped your fucking notice, I don't keep you around to think. If I wanted to talk about work shit I would be sitting here with Simon."  

Her eyes are downcast, chastised, "Sorry, Negan."

Rolling his eyes, huffing, "Just eat your fucking food."

The meal passes in relative silence after Amber's misstep. Everyone's eyes stay focused on their own plates. Reminding you of dinners growing up. The icy tension in the room. Never knowing who or what might set off your fathers temper. A wrong question. A wrong look. The wrong tone of voice. Even a fork clicking on the plate in a manner he deemed offensive.

The beatings were easier to handle than his "special" attentions.

Tonight you already know, Negan will be picking you. The others made that clear. Swallowing your nerves. You need to stop thinking of the past. You need to mold yourself to Negan's wishes. What he needs. You no longer matter. You're only job is to please him. Please him until you get an opening to run.

When the meal is done and coffee served, Negan leans back in his seat groaning. "What a fucking day, huh?" Looking around the table expectantly. Fiddling with your cup you chance a glance around the table. Amber's head is still downcast. Sherry and Marie's faces impassive. Nicole giving a vacant smile. 

Rolling his eyes. "Jesus, you're all a bunch of wet fucking blankets tonight. How about we get a drink at the bar and you can watch your old man kick some savior tail at the ping pong table?" Snickering, looking at Sherry, "You think I can beat Dwighty-Boy out of his literal pants again?" He snickers at her huff of annoyance. 

Your stomach drops. Going to the bar means seeing more people. You don't want to be paraded around in this dress. If you walk in quickly and keep your head down, maybe you can sneak back upstairs while he's distracted at the ping pong table.

You're almost out the door when you feel Negan grab you from behind pulling you back into the room. Pressing you against the wall. Kissing your neck, aggressively hitching one of your legs up around his waist grinding into you, "I want to rip this fucking dress off and pound you against this fucking wall until you're screaming my name." 

Moaning, closing your eyes, steadying yourself between the wall and his broad shoulders. Maybe you won't have to go to the bar after all. 

Pulling away, straightening himself. "But first, we're gonna show your old friends exactly what their missing."

Of course.

This must be what Marie meant about Negan making a statement. He needs to drill into everyone's heads that you belong to him. Rub their noses in what they will never have. 

Gripping your arm pulling you from the room. Your stomach filling with dread at the thought.



Entering the bar area, its crowded. Your stomach a mess of butterflies. Your worst nightmare. You would literally slit someone's throat for their pants and weapons. 

Negan leads you through the bar toward the game area, giving Sherry a wolfish grin when he sees Dwight making a hasty retreat. She's perched on the arm of a couch, looking completely bored. The other three are huddled together, eyes dancing around the bar, clutching their drinks, whispering and giggling to each other. Considering they spend most of their time in the lounge, this must be the highlight of the week. 

You watch Negan's first game and a half before Sherry draws your attention, "Let's get a drink."

Gratefully following her away toward the bar area. Pausing when you hear a familiar voice, "Come on who wants to be on my team? Two to one odds." It's Cam. He's standing with some other saviors at the dart board trying to drum up a game. Your body magnetically responds, walking toward him. His smile dropping, catching site of you. The group he's with makes a hasty retreat mumbling things about "crazy bitch" under their breath.

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, "Thanks."

"Sorry, I thought you needed teammate..."  trailing off. Biting your lip, "What were you even playing for? Do you need the points?"

Shaking his head, "No. Laura does... Remember her?"

Stomach twisting uncomfortably, "Yeah... Is she... doing ok?"

"Brad's dead," his response is gruff, "What the fuck do you think..."

Hanging your head, "Sorry I just thought..."

"What? We could all go back to normal? It doesn't work like that... Not anymore."

Each word is like a bullet to your chest. "I didn't..." Taking a shaky breath, steeling your resolve, trying to keep your composure. "How's Pitt?" 

"He's fine," nodding his head toward something behind you, "never better." 

Following his eye line, flinching, Pitt's on a couch in a dark corner, making out with a dark haired woman. hand up her shirt while she gyrates enthusiastically on top of him. Kissing so aggressively you're surprised they can even breath.

Your body goes numb. Wishing you would wake up from this nightmare. Wondering how much longer you can hang on.  

"I never meant for any of this to happen..." Turning your face back to Cam, feeling light headed, "I... I won't bother you again." Attempting to hurry past him before he can register how upset you are.

His face is unreadable as you start to stumble past, surprising you when his hand grips your arm, low voice, "Would it have even mattered..."  Indicating Pitt with his eyes, "If you had known."

Tears filling your eyes, wanting to scream, jerking your arm from his grip, "It doesn't matter now... Negan got what he wanted."

Lurching to the bar, hardly seeing. Staring into nothing. Your mind spiraling out of control. Thinking about Cam's words is a waste of your sanity. You need to focus. Signalling to the bartender for a drink. Votive candles are scattered around the bar, their flickering light hypnotic. Pulling one towards you, purposely burning your wrist, hissing through your teeth as the pain sears away your clouded thoughts. Thoughts of what could have been. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Sherry grabs your arm, pulling it away from the fire. She must see something in your expression, lightly touching the scars on your wrist, "You made these... yourself?" Searching your face.

Removing your arm from her grasp when a tumbler of ice and amber liquid slides in front of you. Chewing the inside of your cheek. Hoping she drops the subject.    

Nick's voice behind you, clearly inebriated, ordering another round of drinks. Tilting your body away, facing Sherry's worried expression. You need to get the hell out of this bar before you loose control. The bartender delivering the beers, "Your hand all healed up?" 

Laughing, "Yeah, healed and ready to break that piece of shit's nose again."

As he walks back to his table to rejoin his group. Giving Sherry a questioning look, "What the fuck was that about? Nick broke someone's nose?" 

Her eyes downcast, "He interrogated some of your friends when you ran off..."

"Which ones..." You know before she tells you. Of course you know.

Hesitantly, "Pitt and Cam." 

You feel the color drain from your face, voice horse, "What?" Waiting for her to answer, you can hardly breath.

"You know how Negan is." Shifting uncomfortably on her stool, "He loves pitting people against each other. When you ran off, he let Nick interrogate your friends, to get information out of them."

Your blood is like ice, remembering that day, Pitt's broken nose, Cam's swollen eye...Then later in Negan's office, Nick's wrapped hand on the door. You hadn't even considered how he got hurt. Sherry's voice sounds far away, hard to hear through the  blood pounding in your ears. Pain burning away in fury.


Sliding off your stool, shaking off Sherry's hand. Stalking toward his table.His head thrown back laughing loudly. 

Kicking the leg out of his chair before your brain has time to catch up. Nick topples backwards onto the floor. The men at his table have gone silent. Grabbing a beer bottle off the table, wiping it towards his head. Barely missing, it explodes, showering his face in glass. Floundering on his back, shell shocked, trying to regain his bearings. 

Unleashing your pent up rage, "You're a real man, huh? Beating up people in cells... you pathetic piece of shit!" Snatching another bottle, ready to hurl it at his face, this time you won't miss. "Did you have someone hold them down while you did it? Chicken shit mother-fucker!"

The cold steel of a barrel pressed against your temple stops you. The other men at the table have gone silent, staring in alarm. 

Simon's voice, low in your ear, "Have you lost your God damned mind?" 

Clamping your teeth shut. Holding your hands out to the sides, dropping the bottle. 

"Come on," pushing the barrel into your temple, urging you to move, "you know what happens next."

Swallowing nervously, nodding once. He grips you by the bicep holstering his weapon, pulling you towards the ping pong table. 

Negan is finishing off his game, cocky grin dissolving into a dark look when he catches site of you and Simon. Keeping a firm grip of your arm, Simon has a quick word before passing you over to Negan.

Sighing heavily, Negan pulls you close, whispering menacingly in your ear. "You just can't fucking help yourself, can you?" Bending your head, shaking it slightly. Furious with yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you. Every step forward with the outifit and makeup just got eliminated over your rash decision. 

And for what? Cam and Pitt hate you. They want nothing to do with you. 

"I'm beginning to think you enjoy getting punished... Do you want me to punish you, kitten?" Voice dripping with hunger.

Realizing, you might still have a chance, wetting your lips, turning, pressing yourself against him, "Yes, Negan." Hoping you can undo some of the damage. Meeting his lust blown eyes, biting your lip, "Remind me, who I belong to."    

Groaning, Negan pulls you toward the exit. 

Your resolve almost crumbles seeing Cam and Pitt standing together heads bent in conversation near the door. Their faces are blank, seeing you lead away.

Dropping your eyes from theirs, it doesn't matter. You don't want to think anymore tonight.



You're almost back to his office when Negan pushes you forcefully against the wall, hands tearing at your dress, snapping one of the delicate straps, mouth sucking and nipping at your skin. "Fuck, are you ever going to stop crossing me, doll?"

Arching into him, pulling his hair, moaning your response, "No."

Pulling away, his eyes are black with lust. Messy hair, lipstick smeared on his face, breathing heavy.

Yanking you down the rest of the hall to his office door. Stumbling behind him. you giggle breathlessly at the bewildered look on the guard's face stationed outside his office when Negan shoves him aside. 

Removing his jacket, throwing it across the sofa. "You think something's funny?" Stalking toward you, eyes slowly scanning your body. "You need to stop acting out in public, sweetheart, or I'll throw you across a table and fuck you till you scream with everyone watching."

Not willing to give him the upper hand yet, shoving him aggressively. He falls onto the sofa, irritation on his face . Until you pounce on him, straddling his lap, eagerly kissing him. His hands immediately start exploring, pulling down the zipper on the back of the dress. Breaking away from him, standing to tugging your dress off, leaving you in only the lingerie and heals. Negan reaches for you, trying to draw you back onto his lap. 

Backing away, biting your lip coyly, "Patience..."

"Get on my fucking dick now, or I will fucking tie your ass to the desk and fuck you raw." Frustration coloring his words.  

"I have a better idea..." Slowly walking over to his bar, filling a glass with ice and whiskey. Strutting back, taking a lazy sip before bending down kissing him again while handing him the glass, "You've had a very long day..." He raises his eyebrow, "and I've been a very bad girl..."  sinking to your knees in front of him. "Let me make it up to you." Undoing his belt and button leisurely pulling the zipper.

Taking a sip from his glass, smirking, raising his hips, allowing you to partially slide his pants down. Pulling him free from his boxers, stroking his length, licking your lips. Negan hasn't taken his eyes off you, "I don't deserve to be fucked until you forgive me..."

Leaning forward to lick slowly up his shaft, Negan gives a low moan, shutting his eyes, leaning his head back. Taking him fully into your mouth, languidly sucking up and down. Negan tangles his hand in your hair, pulling gently, urging you to move at a quicker pace. Following his lead, humming, vibrations causing him buck his hips.

Internally smirking. Blow jobs... International, "get out of jail free" cards.

Popping him out of your mouth, firmly stroking his length. He's getting close. Glazed eyes, breathing heavy. Hissing through his teeth as you bob your head back down, deep throating him.

"When you cum, I'm gonna swallow every drop." Flicking your tongue over the head before swallowing him whole again. Popping him back out, licking back up, "Mmmmm, like a good girl." 

Taking him back into your eager mouth he forces your head down in quick succession moaning, "fuuuuuuuuuck." You feel his release pumping into your mouth. Swallowing greedily before licking around the tip to make sure you got everything.

Crawling back onto the couch, purposely leaning across him to grab his drink, ensuring he gets a tantalizing view of your ass. Taking a sip, grinning at him mischievously over the rim. Wondering how long he needs to recharge. His hand is rubbing up your leg, over your ass. Taking his glass from you, He chuckles, pulling you to straddle his lap again. "Are you gonna behave?"

Kissing his neck, nipping at his ear lobe, "pissing you off seems more fun." Reaching your hand to squeeze his hardening cock.

Groaning, pulling the top of the corset down, attacking your nipples, "I guess I'll have to punish you some more..."

There's a loud knock at the door. 

Grunting in irritation, continuing his assault, brushing a thumb across your clit on this outside of your thong so you arch into him moaning.   

The knock sounds again. 

"Somebody better be fucking dead!" 

Simon's voice muffled through the door, "Do you think I would be up here otherwise?"

Negan grits his teeth in annoyance, pushing you off of his lap, "Answer the door, doll."

Pulling it open, Simon steps in, rubbing his face, eyes lingering over your body.

Deciding to fuck with Simon, Knowing Negan's jealous tendencies,  "Need help with something, daddy?" running a finger down his chest, pulling lightly on his belt.

Simon's adam's apple bobs nervously, quickly stepping away from you, hands in the air., "Hey now, watch it," darting a look at Negan.  

"Tess..." Negan warns, glowering. "I know what your fucking doing." 

Playing innocent, "What?"

"I'll have your ass cuffed to the bed again."

"Promise?" giving Negan a final teasing look. Winking at Simon, blowing him a kiss as you leave.

"TYLER!" Negan's voice making you jump. "Escort my lovely wife back to her room." Negan advancing on you dangerously, "Cuff her ass to the bed for being an insolent little tease."

You huff in annoyance.

Leaning his lips close to your ear, whispering seductively, "We'll finish this shit tomorrow..." Amusement dancing in his eyes as Tyler leads you away.  

It's gonna be another long, uncomfortable night.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Sherry unlocks your cuffs, handing you a skimpy black dress.

"You're going to have to try harder if you want these punishments lifted, you know." Her face is grim. "He can do worse."

Sighing, "Simon busted in with an emergency..."

Cutting you off, "He'll go after your friends next."

Rolling your eyes, "I don't have any..." 

Shaking her head, walking out the door, "Keep telling yourself that."

Biting you lip to stop yourself from lashing out. Taking a deep breath, pulling on the dress. Today you need to do better.


Fuck anything that won't help you get out of this nightmare.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, Pushing your tits up in the bra, pulling your hair into a high ponytail, remembering Nicole's wisdom. Negan wants something to hold onto.

Breathing deeply.

You can do this.

You need to do this.

To get out. To be free. Nothing else matters now. 

Small voice inside your head, chills running down your spine, "What will you do once you're out... You have no one... You have nothing... What are you even surviving for..."

Shaking your head angrily, dislodging the thoughts.

Surviving is surviving. It's all you have left. It will have to be enough.  


Negan doesn't make an appearance at breakfast.

The hall outside the lounge, eerily quiet. The guard post by his office door is vacant.

That can't be good. 

He always has a guard stationed by his door when he is in the building. No guard probably means he's outside the gates, on a run. Relying on just the two roaming floor guards to keep their eyes on things on the top floor. Ready to report everything back to Negan.   

The morning stretches onto lunch, his continued absence making you want to climb the walls, pacing back and forth in the lounge like a caged animal. Wishing there was someone you could get information from. What time did they leave. When are they expected back. What was so urgent. Looking out the window you can see Dev stationed at the gate. Wondering if he would tell you anything if you ventured down.  

A server bringing a tray of food interrupts your thoughts. Falling moodily onto a chair at the table while the others daintily eat lunch gossiping about the night before. 

Amber's hesitant voice, "You should eat something."

Grumbling, "I'm not hungry."

Sherry clears her throat. "Come with us today. It will be good for you to get out for a little while, earn some brownie points."

"Out?" Straightening in your seat. If the wives can get out of the gates, you can escape today. Hope, coloring your words. "Out where?" 

Nicole answers brightly, "We're visiting the hospital wing and the library."

Slumping back into your seat, "Oh."

"Where did you think out meant," Marie snickering at your change in demeanor, "You think Negan would let us out of the gates?"

Huffing in annoyance. "No..."

Since the wives didn't have to work for points, they took on the roll of goodwill ambassadors. Visiting the sick and injured. Welcoming new comers. Sauntering around the Sanctuary, a flock of preening first ladies. 

The other members of the sanctuary seemed to harbor mixed feelings for the wives. Some looked at them in adoration, eyes shining bright if they were lucky enough to be graced with a smile. Others followed their every move with lust, stripping them bare with their eyes. Most looked at them with loathing, hating them for their pretty faces and pampered lives while they toiled away for barely enough points to survive.

Inside the hospital wing, Dr Carson greets them. Speaking quietly with Sherry, directing her to the farthest bed. A man who's arm has been amputated. Bitten while repairing the fence. Unconscious, fate uncertain.

They make their rounds, quietly murmuring to each patient. Inquiring on their needs. Holding their hands. Filling waters. The last patient is behind a curtained wall. The wives share excited looks. Curious you follow them, stopping dead in your tracks. A woman is nursing a swaddled baby, tears shinning in her eyes as she holds her little miracle. The wives coo in adoration.

Everyone loves a baby...   

Swallowing thickly, backing away from the curtain. Pressing yourself mutely against a wall. Trying to control your breathing. Dr Carson's concerned look from across the room spurs you to move. Quickly, heading to sit by the man with the amputated limb. Staring blankly at the angry puckered flesh of his shoulder. Glad he's unconscious so you don't have to make small talk. Pretend everything is ok. Wondering what he will do to earn points if he wakes up. Wouldn't it be more of a mercy to just end him now?  

Hearing an indignant wail behind you. Healthy baby, demanding more food. Squeezing your eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of your nose, remembering your own child, early morning hours, cuddled to your breast, nursing. How you would gaze in wonder, his perfect features. Tiny hand wrapped around one of your fingers. Big innocent blue eyes. Promises you made. You would be a good mother. You would never let anything hurt him. 

Worthless promises.

Broken promises. 

Stomach churning, bolting up from your seat and into the hall. Running into a breathless Amber, holding a stitch in her side, coming down the hall. You hadn't realized she wasn't with the others. Her eyes widening in shock then concern, seeing your pale face. "You ok?"

Looking through her, cringing when a distinct newborn wail drifts through the shut door.

Abruptly pushing you aside, squealing, "Baby!" Rushing through the door, leaving you alone to sink to the floor, waiting in miserable solitude.   
You're just picking the last of the nail polish off your fingers when they finally emerge from the hospital wing, giddy after meeting the newest member of the sanctuary. Luckily they seem to have been too distracted to notice your lack of enthusiasm. 

Trailing behind them to the Library. Listening morosely as they discuss the baby essentials they plan on gathering to deliver to the ward tomorrow.

Entering the vast room of books, sunlight streaming through large windows. It's overly bright and cheery for your current mood. Veering off, searching the shelves, absentmindedly running a finger along book spines as you venture down each aisle. Enjoying the quiet and solitude, the musty smell. 

Books. So easy to slip into someone else's skin, disappear into their story. Forget your troubles for a little while. 

Today you need a book to motivate you. Get your focus back on track. One that will put your head in the game. Grinning when you spy one. The Running Man by Richard Bachman.

Hell, you'll be the running man soon enough. You need to start making a plan. 

Convincing Negan to take you outside of the gates is only one part. You need to have an idea of where you're going. 

Ducking down a few more aisles, finding what you're looking for. An atlas. Flipping through the pages and quietly tearing one out. Folding it deftly and sliding it into the book your holding. Already mentally ticking off the places you need to mark on the map. Areas to avoid. Possible safe routes. Knowing once you run, you'll have to go far and fast to make it without getting caught. You'll need to stash a bag somewhere and start loading it with supplies. 

So distracted by thoughts of planing, you run straight into Sherry.

Blinking in surprise when she hands you a book and starts leading you toward a large chair. Glancing at the book you see it's Where The Wild Things Are. Confusion coloring your words, "What the fuck is this?" 

Sighing, "Marie's idea of a joke."

"A joke?" Grumbling distractedly, "I wonder if she'll think it's funny when I shove this up her... Ouch!" Yelping as Sherry pinches your arm hard.

"Watch your language!" eyes darting past the chair.

Frowning, following her eye line. Heart seizing in your chest. Children are sitting around the chair starring expectantly at you. Looking around the room in alarm. Where did they come from? Where are their parents? Amber's grinning, cradling a dark haired little girl in her lap, "It's story time! We read everyday. You can go first!"

Your mouth is dry, slowly backing away. Dread pooling in your stomach.

First the baby and now this? It's too much. You need to leave.

Dropping the story on the floor, turning before anyone can ask anything, lurching away. Running through the doors into the hall. Tripping over your heels in haste, barreling into someone, going down in a tangle. The air knocked out of you. Struggling to sit upright.

The familiar sent of sandlewood, leather and sweat envelops you, mind swimming. Strong warm arms wrap around your waist hauling you up. A familiar voice in your ear, "Shit, sorry. You ok?"  

Turning in his arms to face him. startled by the close proximity. Noses practically touching. Breathing his name, "Pitt..." Hands gripping his shirt, holding onto him like a life raft, pulling him closer. He feels like home. Wishing he would stroke your hair, tell you you're safe. Like he used to. Your protector. Your rock. 

Recognizing you, concerned eyes immediately darken. Releasing his hold on you, shoving you away, mask dropping over his features, mouth turning down to a grim line.

Gasping at the sudden change, rejection, steadying yourself on the wall for support. Tears pricking your eyes, threatening to spill over. A door squeaks open to your left and you bolt before they fall. skidding around the nearest corner and out of view. Hurrying back to the lounge. Realizing once you get back that you dropped your book.

And the map.


You dropped the fucking map.

How could you be so fucking stupid. Falling apart at seeing babies, and kids and... and... Pitt. 

You need to get your shit in order.

Hands shaking. Heart racing. You need to calm down and find that God damned map before someone else does and starts asking questions.  

One thing has always calmed you down.


Pain burning away the emotions so you can think.

Hurrying behind the bar, pulling out a knife, tequila and a shot glass. 

Shooting a shot, letting it burn down your throat. Chewing the inside of your cheek contemplating the knife. Deep breaths in and out.

You could sterilize it using a tea light. Maybe cut somewhere that wouldn't be obvious. Just a little cut to take the edge off. To help you focus. But...

Fuck... But, Negan wasn't happy when he saw the cuts before. It's not like you can tell him running into Pitt sent you into an emotional fucking tail spin. 


Taking another swig from the bottle, The urge to cut yourself almost overwhelms you. Gritting your teeth, remembering Sherry's words about trying harder. If you are getting out of here you need the punishments lifted. Sweeping your arm across the bar in aggravation, sending the knife, candle and glass shattering to the floor. Dropping to your knees in frustration to clean the mess. Noticing blood on the floor. Cursing under your breath, hand throbbing, seeping blood. Plodding to the bathroom to clean up.

Surveying yourself in the mirror. You're a disaster. Vacant glassy eyes. Blood smeared on your arm. Messy hair. Leaning your head against the glass, not wanting to see the tears threatening to running down your face. Stripping off your clothes and getting into the shower. Standing under the spray, focusing on the hiss of the water, calming your thoughts so you can focus on what you need to do next.

Get cleaned up, track down the map, get the fuck out.

The lounge is still empty when you get back. 

They're probably still in story-time... or collecting items for the baby. At least you don't have to suffer through that nightmare. 

Trudging back to your room, hopping to grab a nap before the others get back. Gratefully falling into the bed, head hitting a hard pillow. Grumbling, sitting back up, fishing around the pillow, pulling out... a book.   

Turning the book in your shaking hands.

The Running Man

Heart racing, rifling through the pages.

No. Map.  


Hurrying back out into the lounge, It's empty.

Into the hall. Empty. 

Looking back at the book. Wondering who brought it. Whoever brought it back has the map. Or knows about it.  

You dropped it when you ran into Pitt. But the look of loathing on his face. There's no way he brought it back.

Sherry? She probably came to check on you. If she found the map she took it to protect you.

But. Shit. But, what if she found the book and gave it to a guard to bring back? And what if the fucking guard found it. If a guard found it and tells Negan, you are completely fucked. Utterly fucked. Irreversibly fucked. 


You need to figure out who knows about the map and fast. 

Chapter Text

It's better not to panic until there's a reason to panic. 

When the wives got back, they were in a euphoric baby haze. Nervously observing them, trying to catch a look, a glimpse. Anything that would tell you if they knew about the map. Amber's nonstop prattling making you want to slam her head into a wall just to shut her up or maybe spill it's secrets. When they started a game of monopoly you went to bed in a huff. Hoping the quiet and solitude would magically produce some answers on the missing map.




Sherry wakes you the next morning. "Is Negan back?" talking through your yawn.

"No," sitting on your bed, biting her lip. Obviously something weighing on her mind.  "About yesterday..." sighing.

Your body switches to high alert. This is it. She knows. 

"What happened?... You disappeared in the hospital wing, and then... when you saw those kids... It was like you saw a ghost."

Her question, a punch in the gut. You were ready to talk about the map, not this. Grunting, furrowing your brow, trying to come up with an answer.

"Did you have children... before?"

Pulling your knees up to your chest, rubbing your temples, refusing to make eye contact.

Hesitantly, "Does Negan know?"

Leaning your head back against the head board, sighing, "Yeah, he knows..."

"Just be careful, if he knows it will hurt you... he'll use it..." 

Desperately trying to change the conversation. "Are you going back to the hospital wing today? The library?"

"Yes, you should come. You're one of us now..."

Cutting her off, "Fuck.That."

"You need to be seen with us..."

"Wear the dress? Fine. The heels? OK. The lingerie. Abso-fucking-lutly. Screw Negan whenever he snaps his fingers? Sure... Why not." Irritation coloring your words, "but visiting babies? Reading to kids.... No. Nope. Not. Fucking. Happening. I am not doing that shit."

"Well, you can't just stay up here alone."

"Fine, I'll do something else. You have any tennis shoes? I'll go for a run or some shit."  

"You'll go for a run..." Snorting at you, "or some shit?"

"I'll stay out of trouble. Go for a run, take a shower, read my book," gesturing at it, "Thanks for grabbing it. I dropped it somewhere yesterday."

"Yeah, it was in the hall. I gave it to D, he brought it up." 

Well... Fuck...

"Did you see a bookmark?" Swallowing nervously, "I thought I had grabbed one but... it's missing..."

Frowning, "No, maybe D saw it. I can ask..."

"NO!" Your sudden response causing Sherry to jump. Hurrying to smooth over your outburst, "That's ok. It's just a bookmark... I'll get another... Anyway, about those shoes?"

Looking at you confused, "Sure, let me check with Amber... She wears your size."

Rubbing the bridge of your nose as Sherry leaves. D was one of the last people you would want finding the map. He wouldn't hesitate to tell Negan. Brown nosing piece of shit.

Sherry returns with Amber, carrying tennis shoes and a few scraps of clothing. You're relieved to finally get clothes other than a dress and heals until you hold up the tiny workout shorts. Raising your eyebrow at Amber, who squirms uncomfortably, "Sometimes Negan likes to watch me do yoga." 

Of course he would, fucking pervert.

Sighing heavily, "Fine... Thanks, Amber." Pulling on the clothes, they're tighter and more revealing than you would normally wear to run, but the shoes fit well and they seem to have ample support. Following the wives out of the lounge. They are headed toward the hospital wing, giddy, carrying gifts for the new baby. Separating from them on the fourth, hurrying down the stairs and out into the fresh air. Relived to be away so you can think.

Stretching your quads before running, observing the hustle and bustle of guards patrolling the gates and fences. All armed. All carrying walkies. Wondering what type of diversion you would need to slip out unseen. Maybe at night. If Negan doesn't let up on keeping you inside the fences, sneaking out might be your best option. Surely the front gate is the most heavily guarded. 

Starting a light jog, watching everyone and everything as you go. The fence looks well maintained. No obvious holes to slip through. Razor wire along the top preventing an easy climb over. Loading bays, mechanic area, and gardens have the most activity. The back of the building near the training pits and machinery storage the least. It backs up to a field, then woods. The guards on the roof in the perfect position to track your movements till you reached the treeline. Trees would add cover if you made it that far. A forest at night, walkers roaming, no escape vehicle... It isn't ideal for a quick escape.

Your best bet is sneaking off during a scavenging run. Easy access to vehicles and roads, only needing to evade a handful of people vs the entire sanctuary. You need to redouble your efforts to get into Negan's good graces.

Stopping past the loading bays on your 4th time around, shoelace undone. Raising your arms above your head stretching, wiping sweat off your head with a forearm. Propping your foot up onto a metal step, leaning down to tie the lace. 

Gravel crunching behind you sends a shiver up your spine, dirty hands gripping your waist, "Well, what do we have here?" Aggressively pulling your hips back, grinding into you, "If you needed help with something you just hadta ask... Dave and I are always willing to lend a helpin hand. I'm Bobby."

You can see Bobby's tan work boots, and another pair behind him to your left, Dave, blocking your interaction from the nearest guards. Irritably pushing his hands off your waist, "Fuck off, asshole." Turning to glare, attempting to walk away. Dave steps to the side, blocking you. Bobby's hand reaching out snatching your ponytail, yanking you back.

Leering at you, putrid breath in your face, "Got a dog collar on, must like it rough."

Snarling, twisting toward Bobby, grabbing his crotch, twisting and pulling savagely. Delivering a downward palm strike, dislocating his jaw when he doubles over in pain. Pulling the knife off his belt while he's rolling on the ground.

Flicking the blade open, a rusted box cutter, dull as shit. Dave eyes you nervously, clearly they weren't expecting you to defend yourself. Sneering at him, taking a step forward, "What's wrong? I thought you wanted to play."

Frantic movements at the front gate draw both of your attention, three trucks, barreling through. The one in the lead, Negan's.

Dave curses under his breath, rushing to get Bobby off the ground. The punishment for violence against women well known.  Deciding it's better to be inside, out of view, then deal with these limp dicked assholes. Chucking Bobby's worthless knife to the side in disgust, not that you should have expected better from those low lives.

You need to focus. Get upstairs and showered. Ready for Negan. All of your attention needs to be on pleasing him. Whatever it takes.  


The wives must have gotten wind of Negan's return. The bathroom, a flurry of activity, when you rush in panting. Nicole immediately shoving you toward the showers. Marie, pawing through a basket of lingerie barking out orders to the others. Sherry lining up makeup and hair products on the counter. 

When your shower is done they swarm you. Blow drying your hair, makeup. Marie makes you try on four dresses before she is satisfied. Finally settling on a too short black wrap dress with cap sleeves, tied at the side. You've all just returned to the lounge when Dwight appears in the doorway. 

You almost feel bad when he pauses, surveying Sherry with sad eyes. Until they find you, sneering in contempt, signaling you to follow.


Your surprised when he leads you downstairs instead of towards Negan's office. Surprise growing to alarm as he leads you farther and farther down, closer and closer to the cells. What could Negan want with you down here...

Unless... Shit... 

Unless, he knows about the God damned map. Dread pooling in your stomach. Halting. Refusing to take another step down the hall until you know why.

Dwight turns, frowning in annoyance. "He doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Where are we going?"

He smirks. Making you want to punch him in his smug face. "He wants to have a chat."

Your blood runs cold, twisting your fingers together, hiding your shaking hands. "A chat..."

Taking a menacing step toward you. "You nervous?" Towering over you in the dark hall. You never realized how tall Dwight is. "Do something you shouldn't?" Baiting you.

Heart hammering in your chest. Does he know? What did he tell Negan.  

A door squeaks open at the end of the hall breaking your staring contest. Voices filtering into the hall, someone sticks their head out, silhouetted in the doorway. Simon's voice, impatient, "The fuck you doin? Get down here! Christ!"

Relief floods you, wherever you're going it's not a cell...

At least not yet. 

Shouldering into Dwight, "Prick," heading down the hall.

Your relief, short-lived. Dwight pushes you through open the door onto some type of meeting. A group of Saviors sit around a table. Negan at it's head. All talking stops, turning to stare as Dwight elbows you forward.

Negan stands, "Well, look who finally, fucking, graced us with her presence." 

Walking to stand apprehensively in front of Negan, trying to calm your galloping heart as he lightly runs an index finger along the dress's plunging neck line. Hand coming back up, griping your chin, tipping your head back, leisurely kissing you as his lieutenants watch. Breaking off the kiss to gaze into your eyes. There's huger there, but something else making you swallow nervously.


It might be time to panic. 

Chapter Text

Slow smile creeping up his face, not meeting his cold eyes, gravely voice, dangerously low, "Be a good wife and get me a beer, wouldya, doll? We're gonna be here for awhile." Nodding to a cooler behind you.

Slowly walking over, trying to keep your composure. The only sound in the room are your heels clicking on the cold cement floor. Trying to calm your erratic heartbeat. Leaning down to fish a bottle out.

"Wouldya look at that," Negan's wolfish whistle behind you making you cringe, "I'm gonna be balls deep in that, just as soon as we're done here. Yes, I am."

Ignoring the obscene laughter around the table. Twisting the cap off the beer aggressively, stalking back to Negan. Noting the deadly glimmer in his eye. Testing you. How far can he push you. Humiliate you before you snap, giving him a reason to pounce. 

Sliding his tongue along his bottom lip, smirking, "Well," gesturing to his lap, "take a seat."

Perching gingerly on his knee. Warm arm snaking around your waist, pulling you firmly onto his lap so your thighs straddle his leg while his other hand pulls the beer from your loose grip. "There," breath ghosting the shell of your ear, "isn't that more... comfortable." Challenging glint in his eye, playing with the hem of your dress, causing you to squirm.

Locked into a starring contest. Afraid to move, afraid to breath. The silence in the room grows. Everyone waiting for Negan's next move. Your panic building. Is this all over a map? Would a map make him this fucking angry? You're painfully aware of Lucille, prominently displayed on the metal table in front of you. Wondering if she's thirsty. Would he bash your head in here or drag you to the main room, making an example of you. A cautionary tale. Don't bite the hand that feeds you. Especially when that hand is attached to a sociopath named Negan.

When you blink, swallowing nervously, his face breaks into a grin. Knowing he won. Suddenly leaning forward in his seat, no longer focused on you, "Where the fuck were we?" Your body sagging in relief. Whatever he gathered everyone down here for isn't solely focused on you. 

Why does he want you here? There must be a reason. 

Glancing around, ice filling your veins, Pitt and Cam sitting almost directly across from you, avoiding your eye looking distinctly uncomfortable. Remembering Sherry's warning about Negan using your friends to hurt you.

Why are they here? Another test? Another way to punish you? You need to find a way out of this room before your nerves get the better of you.     

Negan's thundering voice interrupting your thoughts. "We need to find the fuckers who did this. No one kills a shit ton of my men, in their sleep, without fucking paying. And pay for it they will. Those sorry sacks of shit will be gargling my balls and begging for more by the time I'm done with them." 

Wait. What? 

Trying to keep your face neutral while processing this new information. A group attacked Negan's men. Doing mental math. That must have been the interruption two nights ago. That would explain his absence. Your not surprised the tension in the room is palatable. Negan is not someone to be trifled with. You and your group learned that the hard way and all you tried to do was rob a truck. What the fuck will he do to people that actually killed his men.    

"Simon, any word from Hilltop? You think those dickless pricks are behind this."

"Wouldn't hurt to take a group over and sniff around. Remind Gregory who he's dealing with."

"Good, get that shit done, assemble a team. We'll go tomorrow. I love watching that asshole shit his pants."

Snickering, "Will do, Boss."

"Gavin, what's the deal with those Kingdom assholes? You think that sorry ass, King Arthur mother-fucker, decided to play conquering hero or some shit?"

"I doubt it, but I'll send a team out to scout around, see if there is anything we can find out."

Quick as a snake, slamming Lucille down on the metal table with a deafening crash. Lip pulled back in a snarl. "So what are y'all saying. There's a group out there, coming for us in our fucking SLEEP and they caught us with our pants down? Is that what you fuckers are saying? Maybe I should find some new fucking lieutenants who don't have their heads up their asses. Maybe I should line you fuckers up, take my number one girl, and start cracking skulls until someone has something USEFUL to fucking say. I want answers people... and I want them fucking NOW!"

A collective shiver goes around the room.

Dwight tentatively clears his throat. 

"Spit it the fuck out, douche bag, I don't have all day..." 

If Negan's anger wasn't on a hairpin trigger, you would have reveled in Dwight's fear. Quaking in his boots. Ready to piss himself, avoiding eye contact, head down. The picture of submission. "There was a man, on... on the road... said he had a settlement."

"You mean, on the road, when you thought it was a good idea to steal from me, you worthless piece of shit." 

Bending his head in shame, shrinking in on himself, "Yeah. Could be his group." Rubbing the back of his neck, "He was tough, a fighter. Didn't scare easy. Sounded like the community wasn't too far from here." 

Negan leans back, sliding his hand precariously high on your thigh, squeezing lightly as he considers Dwight's intel. "That was around the same time someone blew up the fucking dick brigade with a rocket launcher, right?"

A collective hum of agreement from around the table.

"See Dwight, I knew I kept your worthless ass alive for a reason... Well... that and getting to bury my bone in your smokin hot EX-wife. Every. Fucking. Night." Pausing, mischievous twinkle in his eye. Dwight's head sinks lower. Negan's hand slapping the table, causing you to jump and all eyes snap to attention. "Find them. I don't care how, but fucking find them. And do it fucking fast. I'm not pussy footing around with these assholes. They need to learn who's boss." 

Dwight stands, confident in his mission. Nodding once, turning and walking out the door. Red and another man follows. 

"Now, for the rest of you sorry sacks of shit. We need to discuss that warehouse. It's sitting, pretty as a peach, begging for someone to come along and pluck it." His hand rubbing distracting circles on your inner thigh. Adrenaline coursing through your veins from Negan's roller-coaster of emotions making every touch feel like fire. All eyes are on Negan but yours keep drifting to Pitt. Studying the plains of his face. It's been a long time since you've seen him this close. Subconsciously biting your bottom lip, trying to focus on the conversation and not fantasizing it was his hand on your leg. 

"After the recent events, I have come to the conclusion that we'll make the warehouse an outpost. Since the location for the one that got attacked is now compromised. You said the upper level is secure?"

Cam and Pitt nod in unison, at full attention, hanging on his every word. Pitt clears his throat, "We could take a few men there, take our time clearing it out. Wouldn't take more than a week."

Negan nods his head, "Hell, leave the fuckers roaming on the outside for now. Their a good deterrent. We don't have time to waste resources trying to move all that shit back here if there's a rouge group jockeying for dominance. So... Who wants to put a group together, go down to the warehouse and go balls to the walls, fucking, claiming that shit as our own. And if any pricks come calling, you put a bullet in their fucking brain. Do I have a volunteer?" 

Cam and Pitt exchange glances, raising their hands as one.

Gripping the table, trying to contain your horror. Simon's catches your eye smirking at your reaction. Immediately dropping your eyes, stomach sick.

Stupid. Stupid, fucking mistake. Simon saw that. Whatever Simon knows. Negan knows. Why not just paint targets on their backs. Another test, and you failed. 

Pitts eyes on Negan, not straying for a second. Total focus. You do not exist. Like a spec of dust. Insignificant. Cam's guarded eyes only flicking to you for a second, dismissively.

Turning your head, locking eyes with Negan, dreading his verdict. Trying to hide the cracks in your composure. If he sends them away, they'll be safe. It would be the best thing for them. He gives a low hum, searching your eyes, "Huh..." Annoyed at what he sees.  

Maintaining your eye contact, "Trent! You've impressed me the last few months. I think it's about time for you to spread your fucking wings and fly."

Lightly running his finger all the way up your leg, thumb brushing your core. Smirking when you shift on his thigh, trying to relieve some of the growing pressure. Pitt and Cam share a sour look as Trent is rewarded by slaps on the back from fellow saviors.

Negan stands suddenly, knocking you off his lap, "Now everyone, get the fuck out... Except you two." Pointing at Pitt and Cam. His hand on your shoulder like a death sentence, "And you." Glancing nervously at Pitt and Cam as everyone files out of the room, their faces are wary. 

Negan sits back down leveling the men with his gaze. Taking the opportunity to quickly slink behind his chair, hiding from his penetrative stare. kneading his shoulders in an attempt to hide your growing anxiety. Wondering what fresh hell Negan has planned. Pitt and Cam standing obediently in front of him. Faces like masks.

"Now I know you two are disappointed. Woulda loved the opportunity to run the fucking show at that warehouse. Shit, you probably feel like it's your due, since we wouldn't have found it without you. Hell... I get it. But if you keep your fucking noses to the grind stone one of these days you will be fucking rewarded. That warehouse is small potatoes for what I have in store for you."

While Negan drones on your eyes freely wander over Pitt's body. Thoughts you hadn't allowed yourself in a very long time filling your head. His broad shoulders, strong arms, trim waist. Absentmindedly licking your bottom lip. Wondering what it would have felt like to have him hovering over you, gripping him between your thighs, moaning his name... Squeezing your legs together in frustration. If you had only known... Negan standing, breaking you out of your fantasy,  leading them to the door, Lucille thrown causally over his shoulder. 

Cam giving you a calculating look as Negan shuts the door in their faces.


You need to get a hold of yourself. Attempting to school your features as Negan stalks toward you. 

"Soooooo, Doll face, get into any trouble while I was gone?" Placing Lucille into a chair, large hand sweeping your hair off your shoulder, "Anything you want to... confess?" 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. What does he fucking know.

Swallowing weakly as he grips your hips, pulling you to sit on the table, leisurely removing his leather glove, leaning over you, caging you in. Bending toward you, running his nose up your collar bone to your ear, goosebumps flooding your body, "Any run-ins you want to tell me about?"

You're panting in fear. Does he know you ran into Pitt yesterday? The map? Your fight this morning? All of it? None of it? He must know something.

Your brain screaming at you... Confess... CONFESS! Just pick something and confess!

Taking a stab in the dark. 

"I..." swallowing a lump in your throat, "I got in a fight."

"Mmmmmmm... a fight?..." he's kissing your neck at a tortuously slow pace, your mind short circuiting, in overdrive from thoughts of Pitt.

Squeezing your eyes shut, gripping his shoulders, trying to concentrate, "I went for a run, my shoe came untied..."

His hands untying the closure on your dress, "Reeeeeaaaaaalllllllly..." 

"There was a man," shaking your head, "Two... two men..."

Pulling your dress open, surveying you before sliding the dress off your arms, raising an eyebrow at you, licking his lips, "and?"

Your shaking, in fear, in anticipation, "And they came up behind me... threatened me..."

Releasing the clasp of your bra, tossing it aside, before returning to kissing and nipping your neck, working his way down. Dangerous edge to his voice, "They threatened you..."

Sucking a nipple into his mouth. Your arching, moaning, "Yes... Mmmmm..." 

Slipping your panties off, already wet. Kissing a trail down your stomach. It's getting hard to think. Dark hair, the color of Pitt's. "What did you do?" 

His fingers, dancing a trail up your leg, so close, "I... I hurt one...... Oh, Oh God!"

His face burred in your mound, licking languidly up your slit, "Good..." biting at your inner thigh, "Good girl..." 

Grabbing at his hair, head thrown back, while your grind into him and his tongue "Oh... fuck... Oh God... Negan." You can feel him grinning as he works your core. Sucking, licking, nibbling. It's been so long since someone has done this to you and your body is screaming in ecstasy. Hips rolling, cursing, moaning his name. When he finally dips a finger in your begging him for more. You need him to bury his dick in you, filling you till you forget everything. He adds another finger, circling your clit with his tongue, and your close. Your so close. Hooking his fingers inside you, hitting the sweet spot as he sucks on your clit, sending you careening over the edge. 

Coming off your high, sitting up. panting. Needing more, needing it all. Ripping his jacket off him when he stands, tossing it to the side, grabbing at his belt while he pulls his shirt over his head. Licking and nipping in a frenzy. Shoving his pants and boxers off his hips, gripping his dick pulling him toward you. 

Negan's grinning, pulling your hair, forcing your head back so he can bite down hard on your neck, leaving marks. Kissing you savagely, biting down on your lip till it bleeds, "What does my dirty fucking girl need."

"I need you," pawing at him, scratching at his chest, "Negan, please."

"So eager." He's laughing, pulling you away from him, both hands tangled in your hair, limiting your movements. "Begging to have me inside you..."

"Yes, please Negan.... please!"

Releasing you, flipping you over, so you're bent over the table, hand pushing you firmly to the table. Kicking your feet apart, smacking your ass hard, causing you to moan. "You're so fucking wet for me, ready for me to slide my dick inside of you."


"Begging for it." Teasing the velvety head up and down on your slit. 

Your whole body is shaking, practically in tears, needing another release. Squeezing your eyes shut with a loud moan when he finally slides in to the hilt. "That's my dirty, fucking, girl. Take it all." Smacking your ass again. Starting a slow rhythm. "So fucking tight, mmmmmm."

Snapping his hips into you, swirling a finger around your clit, pulling you into another orgasm almost immediately. He waits until your body stops clenching before removing himself, throwing you roughly back onto the table on your back, your body limp in aftershocks.

Pulling your legs straight up over his shoulders, pushing his dick deep inside of you. Your moans, practically incoherent, as he pistons away. Grunting and cursing. Occasionally smacking your ass as he plows you. Your moans and curses mixing together with the table squeaking, ricocheting around the room. His thrusts start growing sloppy and you know he's close. Shutting your eyes, chasing your own peak. Thinking of Pitt, wishing it was him plowing into you. Biting your bottom lip, tasting blood, twisting your nipples, sending you both over the edge to another screaming climax. 

He pulls out, breathless, using his shirt to wipe off his dick before pulling it over his head. When your both dressed he pulls you to him for a bruising kiss. "See, doll, it pays to be my good girl." Sitting back in a chair.

Climbing onto his lap, pushing your forehead against his, shutting your eyes so he can't see your desperation, "Take me along tomorrow..."

Furrowing his brow at you, "Take you where?"

"To Hilltop..."


"Please...." nipping at his lip, "I can be good." Grabbing his hand, pulling it under your dress, rubbing it on your dripping slit. Moaning a little into his mouth, "Mmmmmmm, I'll be so fucking good for you... please...."

His kisses begin to intensify before pulling away with a huff, "Jesus, fuck woman. I have shit to do today..." 

"You said I could go on runs if I was good..."  pulling on the tie on your dress so it falls open again. "Haven't I been good."

Sighing, leaning his head back, "Fine. Fucking fine. Just put your fucking clothes back on or we're never getting out of here."

Straightening your clothes, practically skipping to the door. Tomorrow you're getting outside the gates!

Jubilation quickly dying when the door swings open, revealing Pitt and Cam standing guard.

What .The. Fuck.

"Gentlemen," looking back at you triumphantly, "you wouldn't mind escorting my, dear wife, back up to her quarters would you?" giving a leaning wink at you, before sauntering down the hall whistling cheerfully.

Starring at them in mute horror. Sure they heard... Everything.

Pitt looks furious, avoiding eye contact. Cam giving you a crooked grin, clearly amused.

Stepping into the hall wishing the floor would open, swallowing you whole. Beginning your long walk of shame back to the wive's lounge. Cam starts slowly clapping behind you.

Sighing in frustration, "What..."

"You deserve an Oscar for that shit."

"Fuck off, Cam."

"So, did he tell you we were outside or was that performance all for him."

Refusing to answer. Turning to head up the first flight of stairs. 

"I mean, if I had known you could fuck like that, I might have worked overtime to get into those pants."

Shoving Cam in the chest, "I said, FUCK OFF!" Catching sight of Pitt's brooding face, hands shoved deep in his pockets. 

Completely undeterred, "That is something I am going to keep in my spank bank for a very long time..."

"Shut up."

Snickering, "Shit, I'm pulling it out tonight. The moaning, the begging. Fucking epic."

Turning up the next flight of stairs, seething. 

"So... who were you thinking about?"

"I'm not telling you shit."

"Who would make you that hot and bothered?"

Ignore him. You don't have to answer his questions. 

Speculative, "I wonder..."

"Stop!" Resolutely walking down the hall, swallowing your shame. "Just stop."

"If it was Negan you would just say it... Nothing to hide there."

Up another stairwell... just one left. The final hall.

Chanting under your breath, "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

"Was it Ma-" Turning on your heel, attempting to backhand him across the face. Anticipating, he catches your wrist in his hand grinning.

You're trapped. 

"DON'T..." Hating how your hand shakes "Don't. Say. His. Name."

Grinning ruthlessly, "If it was him... You wouldn't have to hide that either..." Squeezing your wrist painfully, determined, "since he's dead and all..."

Resolutely, "Shut your mouth, you stupid piece of shit." 

"You think he's rolling in his grave... seeing what you've become..."

"FUCK. OFF. CAM." Desperately trying to wrench your arm from his grip. 

His cunning grin, "Am I hitting a nerve?"

Dropping your eyes, hoping they don't see the tears forming. Hating he knows all of your weak spots, brutal enough to use them. 

Pitt crowding you agressivly, boxing you against the wall, dark eyes roving, jaw tightening. Fingers coming up to your neck, brushing the tag hanging off your bondage collar. "What's that?"

Fruitlessly tugging your wrist in Cam's iron restraint. "A punishment."

Sharing a look with Cam, laughing mirthlessly, rubbing a hand over his face. Turning abruptly, striding back down the hall.

Cam questions, "Where're you going? We're supposed to escort her back."

Calling over his shoulder, not stopping, "You do it." Grumbling, barely audible, "pathetic piece of shit..." 

Gasping as his words hit you, legs buckling slightly before you catch yourself. Tears threatening to fall. Putting your free hand up to your mouth to stop the bile rising in your throat.  

Starring after his retreating form, Cam mumbling under his breath, "Should've known he'd pussy out." 

Looking toward the lounge, swallowing thickly, "Just leave me alone." Leaning your head back against the wall, shutting your eyes so you don't have to meet Cam's predatory stare, "You hate me, I get it, please... just stop."

Turning his attention back to you, twisting the knife, "Know who I think you were thinking about?" Cam grips your chin, forcing you to look into his face, eyes briefly flickering to Pitt retreating form and back.  

Rage bubbling inside you at his guile. What if someone hears him. Doesn't he know how dangerous this is. Lashing out the only way you can, sucker punching him in the gut and kneeing him in the nuts while he's distracted. Shoving him to the ground, crouching over him, knee firm on his throat hindering his movement, gripping his hair, forcing his face toward yours, "Listen to me, dickhead, trying to bully me... it's a bad idea, you're gonna get someone killed." 

Holding his arms out to the side, showing he submits, "There she is... knew that rabid bitch would come out if I pushed hard enough." 

"I'm getting out of here tomorrow and I'll be damned if you fuck that shit up for me with your pathetic games." 

Latching onto your words, "So that's it, huh? You whore yourself out because you think you'll be able to cut and run?"

"Fuck you, Cam." Releasing your hold to stand.

"Don't worry." Grinning shrewdly at you, "Your secrets are safe with me..."

Spitting venom at him,"Threaten me again and I'll rip your fucking throat out, then you won't have any secrets to tell." Turning and storming down the hall to the lounge.

Cam's amused laughter dogging your steps. Rushing into the lounge, angrily swiping an arm across your eyes to hide your tears. Hoping to avoid the other wives. Naturally they're arranged on the couches just inside the door. Amber standing, moving to console you when you stumble through the door.

"Don't" Warning her off, not in the mood to discuss what happened. 

She starts following behind you, ringing her hands, "But, maybe we can help!"

Slamming your door in her face. Sliding down to sit, resting your pounding head between your knees. Waiting for the waves of sorrow to pass while you choke down your sobs, not wanting them to hear. Hands shaking, trying to control your breathing. Trying to forget the look of disgust on Pitt's face. Wanting nothing more than to climb onto the roof and throw yourself off the building. Just to end it all.

But, you can't. Not yet.  

Tomorrow you go to Hilltop. Out of the gates. A chance to run. Run far away. To a place no one knows you. Fuck the map. Fuck Cam and his secrets. It doesn't matter. All that matters is surviving long enough to get the hell away from here.   

Chapter Text

Waking in the early light of dawn the next day. Impatient to get on the road. Pacing back and forth in your room, chewing a nail. Debating if you should cut and run today, even without having supplies packed. Not sure when the next opportunity might arise. 

The door opens slowly, and you freeze. Watching as Sherry pokes her head in, hesitantly moving toward your bed with a larger then normal bundle of clothes under her arm. 


Caught unaware, she leaps in the air, gasping for breath. Sitting on the bead clutching her chest. "Don't DO that! You trying to scare me to death?"

Smirking at her, leaning a hip on your dresser, "Why bother? The dead don't stay dead..." Inspecting the nails on the hand you had been chewing on, "Don't worry, I'd take care of you before you could hurt anyone. Smash your face into a mirror or something."

"Thanks." Sarcastically. 

Shrugging, "It won't be quick and easy until Negan gives my knives back..."

Clearing her throat delicately, "Negan didn't give me a dress for you today..."

Cutting her off, "He's taking me on a run to Hilltop." Inspecting the clothes, scowling at how skin tight the jeans will be, paired with a low cut top and push-up bra. 

"He's taking you outside the gates?" 

"He agreed to bring me on runs if I behaved." Distractedly pulling on clothes.

"Tess, listen to me, don't do anything stupid out there. " her voice barely containing a note of anxiety, "If you're thinking you can run from him... Don't. He WILL find you."

Snorting at her, "Thanks for the tip."

Grimacing when she grips your arm, standing, "I'm not kidding, it's a trap. He's been one step ahead of you this whole time. Think, have you done anything that would make him think you would run? A reason for him to test you?"  

Avoiding her eye, hedging, "No."

"It doesn't matter if you tell me. All that matters is what Negan knows." Sighing, "Come on, I'll fix your hair."


20 min later you leave the wives bathroom with some-type of intricate braid running down the center of your skull and a "freshened" face, aka winged eyeliner and blush. You had drawn the line when she wanted to try and paint your nails again. 

Hurrying back through the lounge, grabbing a protein bar before continuing down to the front gates. You wouldn't put it past Negan to leave without telling you.

Outside, squinting in the bright sun, five trucks stand at ready. Saviors milling around waiting for instruction. Thankfully, Negan is nowhere in site. 

Making a bee lining for the front truck, head down, ignoring the looks from the gathered Saviors. Not in the mood to talk to any of the few you do recognize. Leaning against the grill, slowly chewing the protein bar while you wait. Dev is standing by the front gate. Throwing caution to the wind, nodding your head in greeting, testing if his anger has cooled. He glares holes through you, spitting into the dirt.

Sighing in resignation. The dead might outnumber the living, but here, you feel completelyalone.  


Skin crawling at Lucille banging against the iron railing on the walk way above the yard. Falling to your knees in the dirt like the others. Craning your head back to watch Negan deliver his speech, trying to gauge his mood. 

"It. Is. A. BEAUTIFUL. God. Damned. DAY!  We all know why we're fucking here. We all know what we have to do. Business needs to run as usual while we smoke the fuckers out who attacked our men. Rest assured, vengeance will be ours. So, while we're out there today, I want everyone on high, fucking, alert! You see something out of place, a new fucking person you don't recognize, hell, if someone is less than fucking giddy about handing over their shit today... well, I want to hear about it. Any fucking questions?" Holding his hand up to his ear, "Well then, mount up boys and girls! Let's get this shit DONE!"

Negan stomps confidently down the iron stairs as you stand, brushing dirt off your knees. Walking past you with hardly a glance before spinning on his heel raising an eyebrow in irritation, "Well?" Holding his arm out, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him, "You wanted to come along, so, let's, fucking, go!"

Ducking your head, skirting past him to climb into the cab of the lead truck. Negan slides in next to you, Simon already waiting in the driver seat, wedging you between them. No one else enters the back of the truck. Negan bangs the side of the door, signalling for Simon to move out. Gates already open. 

"Now, before we fucking get there I want to go over the rules with you. I'm allowing you to come on this adventure out of the goodness of my heart, and I know, you'll be falling on your knees thanking me for it later. Yes, you will..." Grinning cheekily at you, running his tongue along his bottom lip, enjoying watching you squirm. "Rule number one, you will not take part in collecting the haul. In fact, rule number two, your sweet little ass will be stationed in a designated spot, where I expect you to remain, for the duration of our stay, unless I fucking tell you otherwise. Rule numbero tres, you will be given one knife, as a fucking precaution, and you will return said knife to me, when we enter the trucks to come home. Normally, I would add a no talking clause, but since this is a fact finding mission, feel free to bat your eyelashes at any dimwit stupid enough to look at what belongs to me, give me a reason to get up close and personal with the inside of their skulls. Have I made myself clear?"

Swallowing uncomfortably under his oppressive stare, "Yes."


The rest of the ride is disquieting. Simon focused on the road, Negan whistling, staring out the window. You're awkwardly shifting in the middle, trying to avoid getting in the way of Simon shifting gears. Your mind ping ponging escape plans. Internally debating the pros and cons. Will you be able to get away. Would he find you? Kill you? Is it worth the risk. Would it mater if you died? At least this nightmare would be over.

Pulling up to a large wooden fence, the gates don't immediately open, Negan mutters under his breath, "You have got to be fucking kidding me..." Simon lays on the horn, making you cringe.

The gates finally swing open, temporarily quelling Negan's anger. Peering through the window, it's a farming community. Trailers have been pulled inside the fence. You assume some are being used as homes since the number of people milling around wouldn't all fit inside the large manor.

Gasping in surprise, you know this place, it's the old Barrington House. You remember taking a class trip there in middle school. The tour had been boring as shit. There had been a working farm, barn, well, and blacksmith. Useful things now that society had been destroyed. Wondering what lucky son of a bitch had the forethought to claim this place as their own. 

Gripping your chin, breaking your out of your thoughts, pulling your face to meet his stormy eyes, "Remember the rules, doll. Good girls get rewards, bad girls get punished. You'll be screaming either way."

"Choose wisely." Simon chimes in, shooting you a critical look. Clearly thinking you'll be on the punishment end of the spectrum. An involuntary shiver runs through you.

Sliding out of the truck after Negan, an old simpering man is quickly approaching from the manner, ringing his hands, nervously eyeing the five trucks crowding the yard. The fact he's wearing a pristine suit is baffling. Who would willingly wear a suit in the middle of the Georgia heat, let alone in the Georgia heat when the dead are walking around. Negan's leather jacket had to be hot as balls, but it worked as protection from walker bites.

"Negan, what a pleasant surprise. Ya'll are early." Backtracking immediately at Negan arching his back in indignation. Eyes nervously shifting from Negan to his trucks of armed saviors, "not that that's an issue, of course... Just need to have my men box up your tribute. Hate to keep you waiting."

"Gregory, you limp dicked bastard, long time no see!" Negan bellows, marching forward, throwing his arm around the man's shoulder. "Unfortunately, this isn't just a social call, we have some shit to discuss Gegory..." 

Gregory's adam's apple bobs nervously, "Some... some things to discuss..."

"Seems like maybe I haven't been keeping your group busy enough, you know what they say about idle hands don't you, Gregory... and we can't have that. Not on my watch." swinging Lucille around for flare while he talks, Gregory's face has gone ashen, looking like he might keel over and die on the spot. 

Turning and stomping off toward the manner, Gregory still held tight to Negan's side. You trail behind, unsure what else to do. Hoping Negan forgot about you in his blood-lust. Simon nudges you, handing you a small but sharp knife you quickly clip to your belt. The look on his face, like a bloodhound, starring daggers into Gregory's back. 

Mounting the stairs Negan releases Gregory, who stumbles forward into the front door. Simon fills Negan's spot, pushing him into the house while Negan turns to address you. 

Cold eyes pinning you in place. Gesturing around the porch with Lucille, "This is your playpen, get comfortable, you fucking move from this spot you'll regret it." With that he marches into the house sing songing "Greeeeeeeeeeegoooooooorrrrrrrryyyyyyyyy."

Sighing, resting your head on a support column, trying to calm your beating heart. Maybe Sherry was right, maybe this wasn't the best idea. The crazed look in Negan's eye is all you need to see for your blood to run cold. Wondering how long he'll be in his meeting with that weak willed idiot, Gregory. How the fuck did someone like him get control of a place like this anyway?

Watching in mild fascination as the saviors walk around the community like they own the place. Absolutely no resistance from the people living here. Wandering into any building they choose, walking out with boxes of supplies. Negan must have done a number on these people to have this level compliance. Looking closer, none of Hilltop's people look armed. That doesn't mean they don't have an armory somewhere but you doubt they would have enough ammo to go against the Saviors. 

There is a steady stream of people walking into and out of the manor, you don't notice footsteps approaching from behind. "It's nice to see you again, Tess."


You forgot he said he lived at Hilltop. It felt like a life time ago you met him on that roof. The day your world got smashed to pieces. Dropping your eyes from his in shame, remembering the things he must have seen... heard. Mutely turning away, biting your lip, hoping he takes the hint.

Stepping up beside you, watching as his groups supplies get loaded into the trucks. "How are you?" Gentle voice, coaxing a response.  

Sighing, "Surviving..." 

"I wasn't sure if I would see you again... after that day."   

"Yeah, well, I sold my soul to the devil so..." Holding out your arms sarcastically, "here I am."

"As I recall, you saved two lives that day... Friends, I think." 

Snorting, "My stupidity got a good man killed that day." Biting your lip, watching Cam and Pitt loading boxes across the yard, stomach rolling with regret, "I don't have any friends..." He looks at you questioningly, "Not anymore."

"You can't blame yourself for what happened."

Waving your hand dismissively, "It was my fault. I own it. I have to face the consequences." 

"Your friends will come around."

"No they won't... I've been given too many chances."

Nick stomps up the steps to your right, headed into the manor, muttering "Slut" under his breath.

Shutting your eyes, taking in a deep breath, letting it slowly out of your nose.  "I deserve this. All of it. I made my bed..."

His clear blue eyes darkening in concern, "There's always hope..." 

Looking at Jesus in disbelief. How does he not realize how truly fucked the world has become.

Nick clopping out of the doors with a box full of canned goods, muttering "Bitch" as he passes.

Forgetting Jesus, whirling on Nick, "Seriously? If you have something to say to me, say it to my fucking face."

He stops at the bottom of the stairs to look at you with pent up emotions, "You know, I could have taken care of you."

Snapping, "I seriously doubt it."

Defiantly, "We could have been happy."

"Happiness is an illusion, Nick. Look around you, it doesn't exist."

"He'll never love you."

Snorting in disbelief, "Love..."

"You're just another thing to him."

"And you would have been different... Right? Because you would have loved me? Been devoted? My knight in shining armor." Frustration pouring out of you, "Let me tell you something about love. Love is dead. It's a weakness. It's a pathetic, useless, emotion. Love, is nothing but a target on your back, telling someone exactly where to stick the knife, to break you. Destroy you. Fuck love, and Fuck you."   

Shaking his head, "Well, good luck. Your just a wet hole to pass his time. Until something better comes along. Then you'll be nothing but a worthless whore."

You freeze, his words pulling at your mind... Memories better left forgotten... Spiraling...

Worthless whore.
Worthless whore.
Worthless whore.

The words that had haunted your childhood.

Daddy's Little Worthless Whore.

Those were the worst nights, words you want to forget, nights you want to forget.

Desperate thoughts. The words can't hurt you if you forget. Nothing hurts you if you can forget.

Daddy's Little Worthless Whore.

Forget. Forget. Forget.

Take a deep breath and forget...


Blinking out of your daze, you can't let Nick see his words got to you. Hit a mark. Taking a steadying breath. Confused to notice Nick isn't looking at you anymore, he's looking past you, face drained of color. Trying to leave, bumping into Cam, looming behind him, glaring a hole in his head. 

Wait... You hadn't even notice Cam standing behind Nick, his voice dripping with anger, "There a problem, here?" 

Nick shaking his head, hurrying away hefting the box of supplies he's been holding.

"He called her a whore." Dark rage.

Nodding once, Cam stalks across the grass, after Nick's receding form.

Gruffly, "Hold this."

Numbly grasping the box of canned goods shoved into your arms. Watching, in confusion, as a can is removed, launched straight at Nick's head. When it hits, he turns and Cam delivers a well timed punch to the face, leveling him in the dirt. Never breaking stride, Cam stoops, grabbing the box Nick had been carrying, calmly walking toward the trucks to load it. To anyone not watching, it would look like Nick was rolling on the ground for no reason.

Two warm, familiar, hands on your shoulders, squeezing slightly. Voice, barely above a whisper, you're not sure you even hear him, "I've got you, baby." Taking the box from your hands, walking down the steps to the trucks, as if nothing happened. Never looking back. 

Gripping the banister so you don't fall over.


Cam and Pitt just helped you.

Protected you.

Why did they do that? 

Jesus calmly walks past you down the stairs, stating, "There's always hope."

Whistling getting louder from inside the house, Negan exits, gripping your arm towing you along toward the trucks. You barely hear him through your whirling thoughts. "We got what we fucking needed. Let's move out!" 


Chapter Text

The ride back to the sanctuary is a daze. Negan and Simon in high spirits. A counterpoint to your warring thoughts, chasing each other in dizzying spirals.

Cam and Pitt helped you. But... but they hate you. Don't they?

All of their actions until today have pointed at a complete break in friendship. Openly hostile looks. Bitter words. What would have changed? If it wasn't Nick threatening you, maybe they wouldn't have stepped in at all.


Who beat on them the day you ran. The day everything changed. A clear motive is there. Looking for any excuse to hurt him. Vengeance for what he did to them.

Maybe they didn't help you. Maybe you were just a convenient excuse.

Except... Cam's anger looked real... The rage in Pitt's voice, repeating what Nick called you. That was real. Wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

Fuck! If only there was a way to speak to them alone. 

You know where their rooms are. You could sneak down. After you're sure everyone is asleep. Get some answers.

But, if someone saw you, sneaking into their rooms... Alone... At night... 

There are rules. Negan wouldn't hesitate to dole out punishments. Especially not to them. It would be another lesson. Is it worth the risk?  

Feeling like your head might explode from your thoughts as the trucks pull into the gates. Absentmindedly sliding out of the cab behind Negan. Abruptly stopping when he presses you against the side of the truck with a predatory grin.

Swallowing hard, you need to think clearly, get your head back in the game, you can dissect what happened at Hilltop later. The trucks are being unloaded. You're vaguely aware of people moving in your peripheral vision.    

Raising your eyes to lock onto his. One hand lightly gripping your throat, thumb brushing up against your jaw. The other slowly skimming down your side, toying with the waist band of your pants, along your hip. Goosebumps erupt on your skin. Leaning his head down, achingly slow until his lips barely brush the shell of your ear. "So..." teasing voice, "Did you follow the rules today, doll? Did you earn a reward?" 

Squeezing your eyes shut. Is he really going to do this here? In the middle of the yard, with everyone watching? 

"Yes, I was goo..." voice cutting off abruptly at his hand deftly tugging on your pants. Suddenly he stands back to full posture, triumphantly holding up the knife Simon had lent you.


You had forgotten about the knife. The third rule. The "giving the knife back" rule. 

"You were saying?" looking down at you with a knowing smirk. 

Your heart fills with dread as Negan casually hands the knife back to Simon. Gripping your arm he leads you across the yard, lifting his walkie to his lips. "Kurt."

After a few beats, static, "Negan."

"Any fucking news?" 

"D headed back out this morning. Said they found a trail. Should have an update sometime today."

"Good. Tell him I'm expecting a God damned report when he gets back."

"Will do, boss."

Mounting the steps near the loading bay, to the walkway above the yard, releasing your arm to bang Lucille on a guard rail, getting everyone's attention. Bodies press in from all sides, below, eager to hear what he has to say. 

"All right, listen up. We are one fucking step closer to finding the pricks who took out our men. Ya'll did good. fucking. work. today. And I promise, when we do find the scum sucking douchbags... Every. Single. One. Of you people that helped out today... Will fucking be there to watch when I introduce them to the new world order! Free round of drinks tonight! No points. On me!" A ruckus cheer goes around the yard, Negan raises his arms and Lucille to bask in their praise. Dropping his arms, silence descends on the crowd again. "Now if you'll excuse me," reaching over and grabbing your arm again with a leering grin, "I'm gonna go ping pong my dick all over these tits." He turns, dragging you back into the building, the sound of cat calls and whistles following in your wake. 

He leads you quickly upstairs, passing the wives lounge without stopping. Amber, stationed on a couch with a magazine, perking up as you pass. Guard obediently opening his office door, your stomach twisting in dread, a lamb being lead to slaughter. 

He leads you swiftly through his office, to the door you know leads to his bedroom. Pushing you through his dark room, through another door, heart rate accelerating in panic. Is this were he is taking you to punish you? Does he have a private cell in his room, for his wives when they disobey?

Lights switching on, blinding you. Your standing in a pristine bathroom. Dark gray tiles, large walk in shower, inviting white fluffy towels. 

"Strip." Gruff, dominate voice. It's not a request.

Quickly jumping to comply, pulling your hair loose from the braid, shedding your clothes. Negan removes his jacket and glove, watching you with dark eyes, looking for any sign of disobedience. "Soooooooooo... You thought you could slip a knife past me?" Slowly crowding your space, until your bare ass hits the cold marble counter, "What would you have done with it? I wonder..."

Shaking your head in fear, "No, Negan, I swear, I forgot about the knife." Pleading with him, "I swear. I wouldn't..."

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, "You forgot?" Stroking your neck lovingly with one hand, eye's piercing your soul, turning you to face the mirror. Hand holding your jaw firmly, forcing you to look into the mirror. His body is pressed up behind you, trapping you between him and the counter. Your terrified eyes watching as he leans down, face next to yours, locking his eyes with you in the mirror. "Know what I think? I think you have some secrets rolling around in that pretty little head of yours." Tapping your skull, enjoying the site of you flinching, "Care to fill me in, doll?"

Every nerve is sparking in fear, what does he know. What does he think he knows? 

Your silence earns you a bite on the crook of your neck, causing you to gasp in pain, before he licks the bite. Grinning at you in the mirror. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way..."

"There's nothing, I don't know anything."

Frowning, standing back to full height, removing his white T-shirt. "Have it your way..." Aggressively Shoving you forward, pressing your upper half firmly onto the marble counter, nipples pebbling instantly against the cold surface, kicking your legs apart before smacking you on the ass. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, pressing your face into the hard counter, biting down a yelp when his hand comes down on you swiftly three more times, alternating cheeks. Rubbing the heated flesh, "Fuuuuuuuuuck, just look at that sight. Makes me want to forgive you right now but..." WHAM. The sudden smack finally eliciting a cry from you, "I'm gonna need you to give me a little something here, darling. You gotta meet me half way..." Three more lighting fast strikes and your whimpering in pain.

Pulling your head back by the hair, licking and sucking your neck, his freehand snaking around you to pinch and twist your nipples until you're moaning his name, pressing your ass into him, feeling his excitement. Confident he won't be able to keep the punishment up much longer. 

"I know what happened, I know who you talked to, I know... Everything..." Your scalp is searing in pain, hair wrapped around his hand, free hand now wandering south, teasing you with light touches. Trying to rock into his hand for more contact, earning you a swift yank of the hair.

"Negan, please..." panting in pleasure and pain. 

"So, now I need to show you... Again... I need to remind you..." Long fingers finally dipping into your folds, wrapping an arm above your head, around his neck for support, knees going weak. Shutting your eyes to concentrate on the rhythm of his fingers pumping in and out as his thumb lightly circles your clit.

"Yes, remind me....." moaning, arching into him, "Please, Negan...."

Groaning he throws you onto the counter, ripping off his pants before attacking you. Biting kissing and sucking while you writhe under him begging for more.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You! Fuck, Negan, I belong to you... Fuck, Please..." Wrapping your thighs around his waist, attempting to pull him closer. He's sliding his dick up and down your entrance, driving you mad before finally slamming his full length into you, causing you to scream. 

Laughing threateningly in your ear, "Music to my fucking ears," before pulling out and impaling you again eliciting more screams. Firmly wrapping your legs around his waist, standing and walking into the large shower. Pressing you against the wall for leverage while twisting the knob. Water cascades over you as Negan drives into you until your whole body is shaking. Biting his bottom lip as your first orgasm hits you. The taste of blood filling your mouth. 

"I think you have more in you than that," savagely biting down on your shoulder before dropping you on your feet. Sliding on the wet tile, Negan quickly spins you around, locking your arms behind your back, one wet cheek pressed against the tiled wall. Thrusting into you again, your movements limited by the awkward angle of your arms. 

Hissing through his teeth, "So fucking tight. Shit, doll, I can't stay mad when you feel so good."

Sounds ricocheting around the room, of him ruthlessly thrusting into you, grunts and curses mixing with your moaning and begging. Your shoulders are aching, legs shaking, feeling the next wave building up. Expert fingers rubbing your clit until you're screaming his name again tightening around his dick in a vice like grip. Once the wave passes, abruptly letting go. You're stumbling forward, into the wall. Turning toward him, catching your breath. 

Grinning at you, licking his bottom lip, "Now, on your fucking knees."

Sinking obediently to the ground, blinking up in the spray of water.

He pets your wet head, like a beloved pet, "Now what do you have to say, doll?"

You know what he wants to hear, "Thank you, Negan."

"Good..." Reaching your hand up, stroking his length,  licking the around the head, finally opening your mouth wide and sliding him all the way in. Negan throws his head back, closing his eyes, "Good fucking girl."

Eagerly bobbing your head, humming when you taste the pre-cum leaking out of the tip. The bucking of his hips becoming erratic before shoving your head to the hilt, pumping his release down your throat. 

Leaning against the wall while you get to your feet. Wiping his hand down his face, mouth slack. "Shit, I need you to give the other wives classes in how to suck a dick. Fucking hell."

You both shower quickly after that. He tosses a towel in your face before walking out of the door to his bedroom, drying off. Calling over his shoulder, "I'll leave something for you to wear on the bed. Come to my office. we need to talk."

Quickly drying off. Talk? What would he want to talk about. His words coming back to you. "I know what happened, I know who you talked to, I know... Everything..."

Fuuuuuuuuck. You are so fucking, fucked.

On the bed lay only a push up bra and lace panties. A pair of strapy heals on the floor. Not exactly the best clothes for negotiating not getting beaten to death with Lucille. 

Walking skittishly to his office. Startled to see Simon and Dwight sitting across the desk from Negan, looking relaxed, both clutching beers. A large map is spread on the desk. 

Oh shit... A map... Is that the map... Your map...

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

Taking a tentative step into the room, nervously trying to catch a glimpse of the map. Simon smirking in amusement seeing your wet hair and lack of clothes. Dwight's eyes remain steadfast focused on Negan. Fucking Dwight. That rat faced piece of shit better not be trying to weasel his way out of NOT finding that other group by throwing your ass under the bus... What is he even doing here? Shouldn't he be out tracking people!   

"Sorry, sweetness. We'll have to save the chat for next time, got some business to discuss with the boys here."

Nodding, gingerly heading toward the door, wishing you knew if that was your map on Negan's desk. Almost to freedom. "Tess..."

Cringing, turning back to face your doom.

"Pour me a whiskey."

Sighing, knowing this is a power play. Testing your limits. Testing his control. To show Simon and Dwight how well trained you are.  

Immediately hurrying across the room, opening his liquor cabinet. Grabbing a tumbler, throwing in some ice and a generous pour of amber liquid. Three sets of eyes watching in silence.  Dwight with contempt, Simon with skepticism mixed with mirth. Negan openly leering while you slink back to his side. Ice tinkling merrily in the glass. Desperate to get a look at the map. You'll need a distraction. Negan reaches for the drink. Stepping back, catching his hand in yours, giving him a mischievous grin, taking a sip from his glass. Tutting, "What do you say?"

Huffing, "Please..."

Triumphantly stepping back into his reach, handing him the glass, leaning down to purr in his ear, "Mmmmm, I love to hear you beg," nipping lightly on the lobe. Straightening back up when Simon gives an uncomfortable cough behind you. Turning, his facial expression tells you he got an eyeful of your rear. Leaning your hands on the desk, map perfectly between your hands, ass now swaying in Negan's face. Dipping your head, peering down at the map, it's big, too big, there are lots of markings on it. Relieved. It's not the one you lost. 

Playfully gazing back up at Simon through your lashes, "Is there anything I can do for you, Simon?" 

"Tess..." Negan's warning voice sounds behind you. 

Sighing dramatically, straightening back up, "Fine." Glancing over your shoulder at Negan's dark expression, anger and lust, warring on his face. Shrugging, "I was just fucking with him." The clench of his jaw warning you that his anger is winning the war. "You can punish me later," biting your bottom lip suggestively and lightly smacking your own ass before strutting out of his office with fake confidence.

Heart pounding as you walk down the hall to the wives lounge. You need to stop pressing your luck. One of these days, flirting and fucking, won't get you out of trouble... but you had to know. You had to confirm that wasn't your map. Which begs the question, where the hell IS your map. And if he didn't want to confront you with the map... What the hell did Negan want to discuss with you before Simon and Dwight showed up.

Probably Hilltop.

He said he knew.

He said he saw...

Fuck it, you need to warn Pitt and Cam... 

No matter the risk.     

Chapter Text

Hurrying back into the lounge. Sherry practically leaps off the couch, "You came back." dragging you towards her room. 

Glancing around at the other wives neutral expressions uneasily, "Sure, why wouldn't I..." Wondering why Sherry would even suggest you would leave in front of the others. Is she trying to get you killed?

Shoving you into her room, throwing a basic black dress in your face. "What changed your mind?"

Pulling it on, hissing, "What the fuck, Sherry... I told you this morning I wasn't leaving. Why would you even imply that!"

Advancing toward you, "Cut the shit, I know a flight risk when I see one. I know an entire outpost got taken out. I know Dwight is leading the team trying to track them down." Her eyes shinning with tears at the mention of her ex-husband, imagining the danger he is in," Amber saw Negan escorting you back to his office looking mad as hell. So, what the fuck happened out there? What changed your mind?" 

Sighing, there's no way you're telling Sherry what happened at Hilltop. Who you talked to. What has your head so fucked up. "There wasn't an opening. I don't even have supplies... OR a basic knife. It would be suicide for me to run... But," Gritting your teeth. You hate that weasel faced prick but it's obvious Sherry still has feelings for him. "Dwight is back, he's with Negan now. I don't know what he found but, he's back. He's safe."

She sags in relief. 

"Now if you'll excuse me..." Pushing past her, back out into the main lounge area, "It's been a long fucking day and I need a fucking drink."

Pouring a generous portion of vodka into a glass with ice, swirling it around. Pondering the best time to sneak off. The other three seem to be in a heated debate. Marie and Nicole flanking a distraught Amber.

"Don't be stupid."

"You need to cut it off..."

"You've been lucky so far..."

"It's a dangerous game, and not just for you."

"You know what will happen..."

"You're being selfish."

"We can't keep covering for you."

Amber's has her eyes squeezed shut, fists balled up by her head, looking exactly like a child being mercilessly lectured. Finally having enough she jumps to her feet, "STOP!" Stamping one tiny foot, "Just stop! I know! OK? I know what I have to do! I just need a second... to think!" Tears running down her face, "I'm going to the library."

Immediately your ears perk up. The library? That's on Cam and Pitts floor.

"Wait!" Dashing to your room before running after her, leaving a bewildered Marie and Nicole in your wake. "Wait! I have to return my book! Fuck, slow down!" Finally catching up to her, "Fucking heels. How the hell do you walk so fast in these God Damned things!"

Sniffling, wiping at her nose, "Practice I guess."    

"I feel like my fucking ankles are going to snap."

Shrugging, walking down the stairs. 

"so..." Hedging, you need to be supportive, hide your motive for joining her. "Ummm... do you go to the library to think... often?" Patting yourself on the back. Being friends with girls was all about emotional bonding or some shit, right? You can do this... you can "bond". 

Blushing a little, "Yeah, sometimes..." Looking wistful, "Or... other places."

Why the fuck does she look so dreamy? Regarding her suspiciously, "Other places?"

Shaking herself, realizing who she is talking to, muttering, "Never-mind..."

Welp, there goes your attempt at emotional girl bonding. It's probably for the best. Looks like you both have things to hide.

Exiting the stairs in the fourth, nerves ramping up. You have to figure out what you're going to say to Pitt and Cam. 

Walking along in silence until Amber's excited squealing startles you. Watching curiously as she rushes off to hug an attractive young woman. They're chattering away excitedly when you notice you're basically parked outside of Pitt's door. Wondering if there is a way to move them along. You don't want Negan to suspect you of talking to your friends, but now you're in loitering in plain site.

Clearing your throat, Amber suddenly remembers your presence. "Oh! This is Layla, we used to work together... before... I became a wife... She was just telling me about this great guy she's been seeing. He sounds amazing." Nudging her friend conspiratorially.

Layla blushes, swatting Amber's arm, "Stop, I don't want to jinx anything. He's been distant the last week, but it's understandable with the attack at that outpost. He's only been at the sanctuary for a little while so..."

Inwardly rolling your eyes. You could care less who this chick is creaming her pants over. You need to move this conversation to a different location. Before someone sees you.

Suddenly Pitt's door opens, laughter filtering out into the hall. Cam practically running into you, arm wrapped around his latest conquest.

Cringing, taking a hasty step back. Almost getting knocked over as Layla rushes past you.

Confusion dissolving into horror when you realize she's tugging Pitt by the arm, out into the hall. You can feel your face draining of color. Stepping away, looking for an exit. Anything to remove you from this situation before Pitt notices you standing there. 

There's no reason to talk to them now. You have your answer. They were after Nick.

Stomach twisting painfully. Helping you had nothing to do with YOU at all.   

Amber's grin wavering, glancing quickly between you and Pitt. You can practically see the gears clicking into place. 

Cam scratches the back of his neck, huffing uncomfortably sharing a look with Pitt. Pitt politely nods his head at Amber, avoiding your eye. Layla immediately realizing something is wrong. Glancing between everyone. "Do you... know... each other?"

Turning away quickly, attempting to walk down the hall, hand covering your mouth, sure you'll vomit if you stand there much longer. Quickening your pace when you hear footsteps approaching.

"Tess, wait... " Cam grasps your bicep turning you around, sighing deeply, "shit, just listen for a minute..."

Glancing behind him you can see the others still talking in the hall, out of earshot. Amber shooting worried looks your way.

Wiping a hand down your face, desperately trying to shore up your rapidly cracking composure, "No Cam, it's fine, I get it."

"Get what?"  

Cutting him off, "Right time right place... Nick had it coming to him."

"What? No," Shaking his head in frustration, "that's not..."

"No, Cam... It's ok, you don't have to explain anything... I'm a big girl. Just... tell Pitt... " Prying his hand off your arm, "Fuck... Just tell him it's ok, I'm happy for him." Swiftly turning and hurrying down the hall toward the library. Hearing Cam grunting a curse, kicking the wall behind you. Holding your breath to keep yourself from screaming. 

The clacking of heels alerts you to Amber's presence, "Hey, are you... OK?" Her concern... Twisting the knife. 

"I'm fine." Hoping she doesn't pick up on the quaver in your voice.

"So... That guy... From your old group... Was he your boyfriend?" 

Gritting your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut. You can't do this right now. You can't explain to Amber what Pitt means to you...


Meant to you...


Past tense. 

You are nothing to him, he is nothing to you... You need to get that seed firmly planted into your head. You are nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

"No, he... Just. Can we not talk about this."

Quietly, "sure." Entering the library, Amber gives you a pitying look, quickly hugging you before hurrying off to search the shelves.

The setting sun pouring orange light through the windows, making the room look like it's on fire. Just like your plans. Up in smoke. Walking to the window, closing your eyes, pressing your face against the cool glass.

You feel shattered. It's hard to breath. A tear slides down your face. Wishing you could find a corner to curl up in, go to sleep and never wake up.  

You had such high hopes for today. Dreams of freedom. Reconciliation dangling on a string. Maybe even more... Maybe you didn't have to run alone... All demolished. Destroyed. Blown to bits   

Now you're stuck. Back in your gilded cage. Wondering how long until Negan brings you out on another run. Next time you won't hesitate. Lesson learned.

Can you wait that long? 

Watching a truck slowly roll out of the gate. The ember of an idea sparking in your mind. You know where Hilltop is. You could hide in a truck, sneak out after it leaves the gates. Make your way there... 

Deep breathes.

You are going to be OK.

Just make a plan.

Follow the plan.


As the sun sets the room darkens. You know it will be curfew soon. You already have the answers you were looking for so there is no point pushing your luck by not being back to the lounge on time. Hurrying through the aisles looking for a new book. Sliding a random one off the shelf to take back. Glancing down each aisle as you look for Amber. Listening for the tell tale clacking of her heels. 

Hearing movement down the last aisle. Whimpering. Great. Is she crying? Just what you need. 

Sighing, heading around the corner, stopping suddenly in your tracks. A man has Amber pinned against a bookshelf thrusting into her. She isn't whimpering in pain, she's trying to stifle her moans. 

Anger sweeps through you like wildfire. She has to be fucking kidding. This must be what the others were telling her off about. 

"You dumb fucking bitch!" Wiping your book at the pair of them. Wishing it was a knife instead. Mark jumps away from Amber like he was electrified. Amber's face contorting in panic, fumbling with her dress.

Stalking off in livid rage. Afraid of what you will do to them if you stay. Screaming at her would alert the hordes of saviors living on the floor. You're an accomplice at this point. Stupid fucking bitch. Putting herself at risk. YOU at risk. A witness to her transgressions.

Walking down the hall in murderous fury. Resentment growing as you near Pitt's door. Heart breaking at what could have been... Should have been... If you had known. 

Fingertips lightly brushing his door. Desperate to be able to grasp the handle and push it open. Get enveloped in his warmth. The feeling of belonging. The feeling of being whole. Of being safe. Pausing at the sound of notes drifting under his door. An acoustic guitar... Straining to place the song... Is that? Blood turning to ice. ...Wild Horses...

Your song. The song he always played for you. Said it reminded him of you. 

Is he playing it to Layla?  

All emotions drain out of you. You feel empty. A husk. 

By the time you reach the wives lounge your nothing more than a wooden puppet on strings. Mechanically walking past the other wives to the bar. Grabbing a bottle, any bottle. Facing the room, taking a swig.


You fucking hate gin.  

Amber enters the room not far behind you. Jumpy. Skittish. All eyes swivel between you and Amber. Dread hanging heavy. They know you know.

You. The wild card. The loose canon.

Waiting for an explosion. Tension ramping up when it doesn't come.

Simon entering, breaks the silence. "Sherry, Negan wants you."

She stands, brushing past you, placing her used glass on the bar.

Of course. Dwight is back. Negan, never misses an opportunity to pour salt on a wound.

Numb realization. He does it to all of us.

Meeting her weary eyes as she presses something into your palm. Watching her walk out the door. Wondering how she can stand it. Looking down at your hand. A lighter.

She remembered. Knowing you need to hurt yourself, to feel again. 

Taking another gulp of gin. Walking to your room.

To burn the pain away. 



Chapter Text

The next morning is a haze of misery. Rolling out of bed and stumbling over the empty bottle of gin. Head pounding.

Fucking hell. Why did it have to be gin. 

Peering, blurry eyed into the mirror. You look like death. Feel like death. Running a hand through your matted hair, grimacing at the burn on your wrist. Not sure what to say if Negan questions it. Telling him it was either burning your own arm or ripping Amber's throat out would probably raise red flags. And you don't need any more of those in your life. 

Fucking Amber... 

Gritting your teeth remembering the scene you stumbled onto. Wondering how the hell she has gotten away with cheating on Negan. You're not surprise the other wives had been urging her to cut it off. How can they stand it? Covering for her. 

The breath of a song flits across your memory before slamming your fist into the mirror. 

Worthless song. Worthless memories. Worthless sentimental bullshit.

You need to get the hell out of this place before you loose your mind. 

Peeling off the rumpled dress you slept in. Padding down the hall barefoot in only a bra and panties. Wives around the table. Enjoying a dysfunctional family breakfast. The New American Dream. Walker protected fences and a plethora of wives. Why the fuck not, right? If you have the power. And Negan does. He knows how to use it. How to twist and manipulate every single one of you.

Maybe you should be proud of Amber. For giving Negan the metaphorical middle finger by fucking one of his men right under his nose.

Of course, she'll never win. The house always wins and Negan stacked the deck. Then there will be hell to pay... Probably in blood.

Realizing you have been standing, swaying, in the middle of the room, in your underwear, lost in thought, starring vacantly at the table. 

They look like deer in headlights. Afraid to move. Amber slowly getting to her feet, big blue eyes shimmering with tears, "Tess, I can explain..."

Huffing, rolling your eyes, raising your middle finger in salute to the whole table before stalking out of the room towards the showers. You are not in the right frame of mind to listen to her blubbering excuses. You need some fucking aspirin, a fucking shower and a fucking plan.

Entering the bathroom, impatiently pawing through the various bottles and lotions, not bothering to pick them up if they fall to the floor. Finally. FINALLY. A bottle of Excedrin. Tossing two back and swallowing them dry. Aggressively twisting the knob to the shower, discarding your bra and panties in the corner. Stepping into the spray of water. Ice, cutting through your senses. Dulling your pounding head. Numbing your mind.



Just survive. 

The whisper of a plan brushing your mind. What's done is done.

Use it. Mold it. Turn it into an advantage.

Exiting the shower. Drying off. You have no clothes. 

Briefly considering walking back in a towel before chucking it over your shoulder.

Fuck it.

If Negan gets mad at someone seeing you naked, maybe he should give you your shit back. Strolling back out, head held high, whistling. Simon, hurrying down the hall to Negan's office, stumbles when he sees you. 

Looking around the hall, large hand rubbing the back of his neck, "Tess. What..." uncomfortably clearing his throat, "what're you doing."

Leaning against the wall, inspecting your nails, "Nothin, took a shower..." Shrugging, meeting his eye. 

Wiping a hand down his face, "I really don't think Negan would be ok with this..." You can tell he's trying not to, but his eyes keep flicking over your body.

Raising an eyebrow at him. "Then, maybe, he should give me my fucking clothes back..." Smiling sweetly, "Just a thought." 

Glancing towards Negan's door, a guard openly gawking at what is transpiring. Blowing a kiss to the guard, winking at Simon, "Run along to your Master, wouldn't want you to get into any trouble." Pushing off the wall, sauntering the rest of the way to the wives lounge.

Casually walking in, selecting a glossy magazine off the coffee table and laying down on the couch to read. Perfectly visible from the hall door. The wives sidle up to you ringing their hands in worry, nervously glancing at the doors. 

"Have you lost your mind! What the hell are you doing?" Marie scolds.

Not even bothering to look up from the article on the Top 10 Ways to Drive your man Crazy in the Bedroom. "Hopefully, getting my shit back."

Amber crouches down next to you, begging "Tess, please..." 

Glaring at her, "Later..." 

The sound of Negan's office door opening sends them scattering like rats off a sinking ship. 

Boots clomping down the hall.

Turning the page, bored. You've got nothing left to lose.

You know he's standing in the door, staring. Presence looming heavy.

"Tess..." foreboding voice.

"Hmmmm..." not looking up from the magazine.

Rustling tells you he's stepping closer. Waiting for you to give him your undivided attention.

Snorting, "Number 7: Surprise your guy by gently rubbing your pinkie around his anus right before he cums! Are they serious with this shit?" Fighting to keep your resolve as Lucille pulls the magazine away from your face. "It's like they wanted their readers to get punched in the face..." Voice trailing off, forced to look into his burning eyes. 

"There she is," wide grin, the one that means there's hell to pay. 

Shifting to sit up, Lucille jutting into your face, forcing you back down. "You know..." Surveying your form, wiping a hand down his face laughing, "when Simon told me one of my wives was walking down the hall, bare ass, fucking naked, I thought, No. Not one of my wives... Hell. Fucking. No. One of my wives wouldn't be bat shit crazy enough to think that would fly. I mean, WHY would one of my fucking wives think that shit was ok?" Crouching down next to the couch, turning your face to his, "Well? Dear wife... Since it seems Simon was telling me the truth..." Gritting his teeth, barely controlling his anger, "WHY, the fuck, would you think that shit was ok?"

"You took all my clothes, Negan. What the fuck am I supposed to put on? Every morning I get clothes and this morning I didn't." Gesturing down at your naked form, exasperated, "figured this is what you wanted, today."

Laughing darkly, surveying your form, slowly rolling Lucille down your leg and across your stomach. Smirking at you when you squirm under her barbs. "Know what I think? I think you're looking for a reason to get hurt. Call it a... guilty conscience..." 

Gulping, "Guilty?" 

Lucille rolling up and down on your skin. Barbs digging in, reminding you what they can do. "See, the thing is doll, even after I warned you... That I knew who you had been talking to. That I. Know. EVERYTHING... You STILL fucked up at the first opportunity. You still went downstairs and talked to shit dick 1 and shit dick 2... Who, I might add, earlier in the day, got into a fucking bitch ass fight over something that doesn't belong to them. And what kind of message does that send to my people..." His eyes are black with fervor, "when my smokin hot, hellcat of a wife, is seen downstairs with other men..." Gritting his teeth, lip pulling into a silent snarl. 

Twisting onto your side, cringing when Lucille's barbs bite into your skin, leaving trails of red on your hip. Gripping his arm, you need to contain his anger before he looses control. "No, Negan I swear it's not like that. They weren't even helping me... they were after Nick, they just needed an excuse..."

"Bullshit. Don't lie to me."

Tears coming to your eyes, "I swear, they weren't even in the hall for me. I went to the library with Amber. She ran into Layla... Layla... She. She's... She's Pitt's..." Blinking rapidly, bowing your head in shame so you don't have to meet his eyes, "Please, I don't want to fight you anymore, Negan. I know where I belong... I just want my clothes back so I can be a good wife." Pushing your forehead into his to show your submission. Unsure if his silence is good or bad. 

Negan stands abruptly you almost fall off the couch onto the floor. Scrabbling to sit up, Lucille in your face again, warning you to stay seated. "Here's how this shit is going to go. We're gonna do a little due diligence on your story. If you're telling the truth, I give you your shit back... If not. Well, darling, black IS the color of mourning." Bringing his ever present walkie up to his lips, "Simon, a word."  

Immediately you hear his office door opening and the sound of footsteps approaching. Simon's eyes mutely survey the scene in the lounge, you sitting stark naked on the couch, Lucille in your face, before calmly landing on Negan. Patiently waiting his orders. "Bring her two fucking lap dogs up here, I want a word with them. Don't tell them what they're fucking walking into either." Breaking into a toothy grin when you shift uncomfortably on the couch.

Simon nods. Leaving to do Negan's bidding.

"AMBER!" His sudden shout causing you to jump. 

You hear something crash in one of the rooms down the hall, before a light patter of feet and Amber slinks into view. Guilt written all over her. You can tell she thinks you snitched. Willing yourself to look calm. All she has to do is answer his questions and ONLY his questions and you both should get through this interrogation fine. 

Smirk on Negan's face, thinking he already won. "Last chance, doll. You tell me the fucking truth now and I'll go easy on them. It doesn't have to end this way."

"It's fine Negan, ask her. I'm not lying." Locking eyes with Amber. 

Negan throws his arm around her, pulling her tight to his side. Her bottom lip is quivering in fear, eyes already tearing up.

Jesus, God, how is Amber your fucking ally in this mess. She just needs to keep herself together for a few minuets. He hasn't even asked her anything yet and she's coming apart at the seams. Huffing in frustration. You have to move this along before she spills the beans on herself. "Amber, Negan wan..."

"I'm asking the questions. So I suggest you, shut, the fuck, up."

Gulping, bowing your head, showing your submission, "Yes Negan."

His voice takes on a gentler tone, almost like he's talking to a child, "Now Amber, honey, I'm gonna ask you a few questions. I want you to answer them honestly. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Negan." Her voice barely a whisper. 

"Good girl." He gives her a reassuring squeeze while giving you a calculated look. "What did you do last night? After Tess got back to the lounge."

Sniffling a little, "Not much. We went to the library."

Sighing in relief. OK. First question answered. Maybe she can pull this off.

"Was it your idea to go to the library or Tess's idea."

Glaring at him. What the fuck is he trying to imply here. 

"It was my idea... Tess offered to come. I didn't even ask her too."

Lifting his eyebrow at you. "Realllllly. Tess offered... Not like Tess, is it. To make a friendly offer like that." Fuck. He's gonna try and weasel any reason to find you guilty.  

"She... She had to return a book." Nodding your head at her encouragingly. Willing her to understand this interrogation has nothing to do with her and her fuck buddy.  

"And then what happened..." Negan prompts. 

For a split second Amber almost falls to pieces, fear shooting across her face as she racks her brain. You see the second she remembers, "I saw Layla!"

Negan shoots you a skeptical look, "Layla..."

Nodding her head in earnest, holding on to her mental life-raft, "We used to work together in the laundry. She told me about this guy she's seeing, he's..." Shooting you a startled look, biting her bottom lip regretfully, "He's... ummm..." Gesturing helplessly toward you. "Pitt." 

You can tell Negan was not expecting Amber's story to match up with what you already told him. Tongue in his cheek as he regards you with dark eyes. "Huh... And did Tess talk to Pitt..." 

Shaking her head, big blue doe eyes wide, "No, she tried to walk away..."

Mentally pulling out your hair. Fuck Amber... Tried... TRIED! All she had to say was: Tess walked away. Done. And the interrogation would have been over. Fuck! 

She winces as he immediately picks up on her choice of words, "Tried..."

Shooting you a worried look, "Yeah, the other one... Cam, I think? He... ummm, ran after her."

Negan's eyes enraged, jaw clenched tight. Amber immediately backtracking, trying to fix her misstep. "They didn't talk long, only a second. And then we went to the library. That's all that happened. I swear."

Kissing her forehead gently, "That's ok Amber, you don't have to cover for Tess, you did the right thing... You told the truth. This is Tess's mess to deal with. Now run along back to your room."

Amber departs with an apologetic glance.

Rubbing the scruff on his face, laughing,  "Let's see if the next one goes as smoothly... Something's telling me it won't. Just gotta feelin."

Heart-rate accelerating as you hear footsteps down the hall... Getting closer. Moving to shift a pillow for coverage. Negan tutting stopping you, "Don't be shy, doll. Nothing they haven't seen before." Predatory grin. Swallowing the lump in your throat. Stomach clenched. 

You can't even bare to look at them when they enter the room. Only glancing over when Negan exchanges a quick word with Simon before dismissing him. Cam regarding you with open curiosity. The latest exhibit at a zoo. Pitt's jaw is clenched tight, eyes focused past your shoulder, avoiding looking at you directly.

Negan paces around them idly swinging his precious Lucille, "Hello, gentlemen, you're probably wondering why your up here, gracing us with your fucking presence. Especially since some of us are under-dressed." Pausing near you, leveling you with his steely glare, "You'll have to excuse my wife. Bad manners. Can't help it. Comes from a shitty upbringing." Clapping a hand on Pitt's arm conspiratorially, "Course, you already knew that." Pitt's fists are balled at his side, glowering at the floor, twitch in his jaw. "See, boys, a little bird told me you had a visitor last night. One that could bring a world of pain your way," Lucille swinging through the air, a reminder of her power. "Whispers here, whispers there, you know how fucking twisted that whisper down the lane shit can get. So, I figured, why not bring you both up here for a chat. Get on the same page..."

All eyes on Negan. As he spins a web of fear. Spider toying with three flies in the net.

"First things first. Hilltop..." Popping the p at the end. Circling. Circling. Silence stretching out.

Cam and Pitt. Still as statues. Everyone knows words are a matter of life and death here.

"I know you talked. I know you touched," jabbing Pitt's shoulder with Lucille. "And there better be God Damned good reasons for both."

PItt's dark eyes shooting daggers, "Talk to Nick, he was the one calling her a whore..."

Negan's eyes dancing in amusement, "Old habits die hard, huh. Couldn't fucking resist the chance to protect her..." 

Your eyes wide, watching in horror, as the noose tightens around Pitt. Giving Cam a desperate look. Save him!

Cam gives a slight nod, shifts his eyes from you scoffing, "Perfect opportunity for a little payback." He meets Negan's eye unflinching.  


Cam straightens his shoulders, "Had it coming, after the cells." Cracking his knuckles, "what did he do, run to you and cry about it. Can't fight his own fights?" 

"You expect me to believe, Tess, had nothing to do with it?"

Cam responds automatically, "Tess is old news," Gripping Pitt's shoulder, eliciting a response.

Bitter eyes finally meeting yours, "Old news." Tears pricking your eyes as he maintains eye contact. 

"See, I want to believe you, I really fucking do. But, why did she run down to talk to you, at the first opportunity? If it was nothing more then paybacks?"

Pitt glares at Negan, "We didn't talk last night."

The sound of Simon clearing his throat from the doorway. Negan's wolfish grin, shooting alarm bells to your brain, "Look what we have here... A guest of honor!" Looking to the door, blood freezing in your veins.


Everything seems to move in slow motion. Simon nudging her forward. Her eyes wide, taking in the room. 

Pitt immediately snaps to action, pulling her between them, attempting to shield her from Negan, "She has nothing to do with this." Pitt and Cam exchange a glance over Layla's head. Flicker of something indistinguishable in their eyes. Was it fear? 

You feel like you're going to be sick, seeing her enveloped under Pitt's arm. You can't take much more of this. Your body is shaking, tears threatening to fall. You're whole power play unraveling in the blink of an eye. 

How could you be stupid enough to think you had nothing to lose. Just because they're done with you doesn't mean Negan can't still use your feelings for them against you. And now Layla is being brought into the mix. Why the fuck did you think you could ever force Negan to do anything. You just want this nightmare to end. 

Negan's tone is softer, more seductive, "Hello, Layla. That is a beautiful name." Hating the sound of his velvet voice, toying with her. She has no idea the viper nest she's in. 

Looking at Pitt, "Color me fucking impressed, she's stunning." Looking between you and Layla with over exaggerated shock, "You know, she looks an awful lot like somebody else we know." Winking at Pitt, "Gotta type, huh. Hell I get it. Bet you Layla isn't as fucking bat shit as, Tess, over there. You know what they say about the crazy ones in the sack..." Nudging Pitt, "You know what I'm talking about..."

Layla looking ill with this new information. Glancing between you and Pitt. 

Negan raises an amused eyebrow, "She didn't know..." Pointing between you and Pitt.

You can see Layla struggling to push away from Pitt, looking furious. "Everything you said to me last night was a lie, wasn't it! Admit it!" Pitt staring at the floor, caught in a trap, shifting in guilt. "I should have known... the way you've been acting. I can't believe I was stupid enough to believe your lies!"

Cam ruffly grabs her arm in warning, silencing her. Negan's revelation has rocked her to the core. Ruining what she believed was the one good thing in the misery of the new world.

Cam shoots you a hard look. Knowing you're the catalyst for this interrogation, the key to stopping it.

Swallowing what's left of your pride. If Layla makes Pitt happy, you'll throw yourself on the sword to salvage their relationship.    

Sliding to your knees, begging, tears running down your face, "Please, Negan, stop this. I didn't talk to him. I was going to the library with Amber... I didn't even know that... Layla and Pitt..." helplessly gesturing between them. 

Looking at Layla in misery, "Nothing happened between Pitt and I, not ever... he..." Gulping down a sob, hanging your head in shame, "He was my only friend growing up, he protected me when I wasn't strong enough to protect myself... that's all... I swear. I'm nothing to him now. Just ask him." Meeting her eyes again, you can tell she's skeptical. Pitt's face a grim mask, his whole body has gone rigid. You can tell he's barely holding himself in check while you spill your guts. If he lashes out it will be lights out for him. You need to end this now. 

Gripping Negan's free hand, babbling in desperation, "Please Negan, I'm sorry I disobeyed you. You don't have to give me my clothes back. Please... I can be good. I swear, I can be good. Just leave them alone. They don't deserve to be punished because of me... I'll do anything. Please... Punish me, I deserve it. I deserve it all."

Negan squats down, wiping tears off your face with his gloved hand, "Now, darling, seeing you like this. It just breaks my fucking heart. I needed to know that I can trust you. That you always tell me the truth." Kissing you gently on the forehead. Standing to his full height, grin wide. "Hell, sweetheart, you can have you wardrobe back, all you had to do was fucking ask... No need to put on a show for me." 

Turning his attention away, sure that you learned your lesson for the day. "Sorry y'all had to see all that. Sometimes marriage is messy fucking business." Clapping Cam and Pitt on the shoulders, "Let's go boys. No hard feelings. We're square. But, We still have shit to do today..." Stomping out of the room, stopping at the door, "And Layla, if Pitt ever stops hittin all the marks. You come see me. I always have room for another smokin hot wife!"  

After they leave you're left alone with Layla. Naked, on your knees, shaking, tears and snot streaking your face. Empty inside. Your voice comes out, barely a whisper, "Sorry..."

She scoffs at you in contempt. Clearly not believing what you said earlier or what Pitt must have told her last night. That there was nothing between you. There never was and never will be. You ruined it like you ruin everything.


You even ruined them. 

Sorrow and loathing crash over you in waves. Shrieking, flipping over the coffee table, grabbing a lamp heaving it across the room. Grabbing a cheese knife that had been knocked to the floor in your rampage and hurling it through a painting near the door to the hall. Layla, shrinks away from the door, falling onto a couch, startled by your explosive rage. 

Rushing to the painting, slashing wide arcs in the canvas. Dimly aware of movement all around you. Marie barking orders. Arms from two guards gripping you from behind, pushing you against the wall, ceasing your destruction. Your arm slammed against the the wall so you drop the knife.  

"Should we alert Dr. Carson?" The guards, unsure how to proceed. 

Gentle hands wiping hair off your forehead. Sherry's worried face regarding you, seeing the fear in your eyes when the Doctor's name is mentioned. "No... You can be calm can't you, Tess?" 

Nodding your head in agreement, hands release you. Rubbing your wrist absentmindedly while Sherry dismisses the guards and then instructs Amber, who's consoling Layla on the couch, to escort her away. Gripping Amber's wrist when she passes you, lips numb, "I didn't tell him..." Amber nods in acknowledgment before brushing past you, Layla in tow.

Marie forces a glass and pills into your hand. "Take these. You need to sleep off whatever the hell this is," face grim. 

Throwing the pills in your mouth, washing it down with vodka from the glass. Sherry escorts you to her room. Not trusting you to be left alone. Feeling hazy and used up. Nicole follows, perching on the edge of the bed, humming softly, running her fingers lazily through your hair as the darkness swallows you whole.

Chapter Text

It's dark when you regain consciousness. Hot. Too hot. An arm thrown over your waist. Too small to be a man's but still claustrophobic. Feeling like you're tied down. Immobile. Panic and nausea rising. 

Where are you? What happened? 

Shifting slightly, your bed mate moans, rolling over, releasing you. Sitting up. Swinging your legs off the bed to rest you feet on plush carpet, pushing damp clinging hair off your face. You're naked.

Is this real?
Are you dreaming?

Peering at your bed mate, it's Sherry.


Images start coming back to you. 




Dropping you head into your hands grimacing at the memories. Wondering how you manage to fuck everything up. Every. Time.

You're Dad was right. You are worthless. Good for nothing. A tramp. Hell, you managed to ruin Pitt's new relationship with out even touching him. That's gotta be a record. All pain and no pleasure. Nothing but Daddy's little worthless whore working her magic.

Wiping a hand down your face, glancing back at Sherry's sleeping form. You have to get out of this place before you decimate more lives. 

Slipping out of her door into the hall. Padding to the bar, chugging water. Moonlight shines in through the large windows. The room shrouded in grays and blacks. Fitting for your mood. Staring out of the window. Pressing a palm flat against the glass. Freedom. 

Past the guards. Past the gates. Past the walkers surrounding the compound.


A chance to wipe the slate clean. Become no one. Where there's no one left to hurt. Alone. 

Hilltop is out. You would only bring ruin to their doorstep. 

Where can you go... Somewhere... Anywhere...

Does it even matter if you're just waiting for death to come calling? 

You'll still need supplies. You're not that suicidal. If you were, you could just go to the roof and jump off. End the misery. For everyone. 

Turning resolutely back to the hall. No time to waste. Creeping silently past Sherry's room to the next door. Sliding into the room. 

Amber is sprawled on her bed, delicate strap of her nighty pulled off one shoulder, porcelain skin gleaming, hair forming erratic halo around her head. 

Her eyes fly open when you sit on the bed, hand covering her mouth, pinning her down with a forearm across her throat. 

"Shhhhhhhh. It's me. We need to talk. I'm gonna let you up. Don't scream. Ok?"

Eyes wide, nodding. Shifting to sit up, drawing her knees up to her chest when you release her. Amber's terrified eyes darting around the room. "It's the middle of the night. Can't we talk tomorrow."

"I don't want the others to know we talked."

"We talk every day."

"Not about this..." Leveling her with a dour expression. "I didn't tell Negan today. If I did, all that shit with me would have been turned on you like that." Snapping you fingers for emphasis.

"You can't! You can't tell him!" Hanging her head, bottom lip pouting "I'm gonna break it off with Mark," fear in her eyes, "I will. I promise!"

Flipping hair over you shoulder, "I don't give a fuck, you know what will happen if you get caught... that shits on you."

Fiddling with her fingers, "What then? What do you want from me? Why are you in here?"

"You're gonna do something for me and you're not gonna tell a God damned soul about it."

Amber looks at you uneasily.

"You're gonna get a backpack and stock it with supplies for me. Water, meds, food..."

Raising her voice in a harsh whisper, "Are you crazy? What if Negan catches me with that? Do you know what would happen?"

Grinning wolfishly at her, "But you won't get caught, will you? Cause you're smart," poking her in the forehead. "If you can get away with fucking around behind Negan's back, you shouldn't have a problem with this."

Scoffing at you, "What makes you so sure."

"Negan has people watching my every move. I wouldn't be able to buy a stick of gum from the market without without it raising red flags... but you? You're perfect. No one would suspect you of running. You out there, killing walkers? Shit... You might break a nail. You're always down there anyway. Shouldn't be too hard for you to sneak a few extra things up. Or beg some aspirin off Carson." Making a pouty face at her, clutching your stomach, "I have my period Dr Carson, the cramps are really really bad..."

Amber chews her bottom lip. Unconvinced.

Sighing heavily. "Fine... It's Mark's funeral..." Getting off the bed, heading to the door.


Smirking at her from the shadows, "I knew you would come around..." Sliding back out of her room, "Thanks for the help." 

She whispers, almost too low for you to hear, "Bitch."

Cracking your neck before heading back to Sherry's room. Amber doesn't have to like you, as long as she does her job. 

Back in bed under the covers. Sherry shifts in her sleep before throwing her arm around you again, yawning sleepily, "where'd you go?"

"Bathroom... go back to sleep." Settling down, staring at the dark wall, too many thoughts swirling in your brain for sleep.


You'll get out soon.


You must have fallen back asleep because Sherry is gone when you wake up. Quickly heading to your own room, curious to see if Negan made good on his promise of returning your things. Relieved to see hangers of clothes when you peer in the closet and drawers. Annoyed it's only  your clothes. No weapons. No lock picks. Nothing that you would have truly wanted back. Not that you're surprised. Negan isn't stupid. He definitely doesn't trust you. You're gonna have to work on that.   

Pulling on a dress and moving to the main lounge to find the wives eating breakfast. 

Sitting in your normal chair, back to the wall. Pulling a cup of coffee toward yourself.

"Sleep well?" Nicole inquires in false innocence. 

"Nice to see you in clothes today," Marie eyes you moodily over her coffee cup. "If you decide to destroy any more art could you, maybe, not pick one of our favorites."

Squinting at the shredded painting, wondering what made it special. It hadn't looked like much to you. 

Continuing in an icy tone, "It was an O'keeffe, not that you would know or even care who that is."

Squirming in your seat, focusing on the coffee swirling in your cup, clearing your throat, "Sorry, I didn't know it was important."

"Told you..." Amber sniffs.

Shooting her a glare, "What did you tell them, Amber..."

She crumples in on herself, "That you wouldn't know who O'keeffee even is." 

Squinting your eyes at her. That better be all she said... 

"LADIES!" Negan's booming voice making you jump. "Hope I'm not interrupting..." He looms in the doorway before striding to the table to kiss each wife. Pausing next to you, "Nice to see everyone is dressed today..." 

Perfect time to start rebuilding that trust. Turning into him, hanging your head, eyes down cast, toying with the zipper in his coat, "Sorry, Negan."

Gentle voice, unnerving, so unlike him, "Hey now," using a finger under your chin so you into his eyes, "No need for all that, I know you're sorry... and I know your gonna make it up to me. Got something special in store for you, doll." 

An involuntary shiver runs down your spine. Biting his bottom lip, "Mmmmmm, can't wait to give it to you. It's gonna be perfect." Leaning down to give you a lingering kiss, only pulling back once your arms start to wrap around his neck. 

Stepping out of your grasp to address the others, ordering "Make sure she looks presentable tonight." Purposefully striding out of the lounge and down the hall whistling to himself.

Fuck. What the fuck does he have planned for you now.

Looking at the others in trepidation, "Presentable for what?"

Marie rolls her eyes, "You would know if you weren't sleeping off your episode yesterday."   

Nicole smiles sadly at you, "We're having dinner with him tonight."

Sherry squeezes your shoulder, "We're gonna go to the infirmary, check out the market and head to the library. You're welcome to join us..."

Shying away from her touch, giving a guarded look. She raises her hands in surrender, "Or... you can do whatever you have to do today to get yourself in the right head-space to deal with tonight... Your choice."

"Just don't get drunk or destroy anything," Marie cuts in, "I'm done cleaning up after you." 

Hanging your head squeezing the bridge of your nose. "I think I'll go for a run... Clear my head." 

She snorts, "yeah, that'll help."

Sherry steps between you addressing the others in an overly cheerful voice, "OK, ladies, let's get going." Herding everyone out of the doors before you can launch yourself at Marie. What the fuck is her problem. It was only a painting.

Amber goes last and you give her a meaningful look before she slinks out. She better collect some supplies today. The quicker she does, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here. 


Outside, on edge and exhausted already. The sun is too bright. The air too humid. Sitting on the bottom step to tighten your tennis shoes before starting your run. A truck is being unloaded. Men's voices carrying across the yard as they move to and fro between the truck and the building. A hint of yellow sways in a slight breeze near your left foot. A wild flower. The bright sunny color contrasting so sharply with your current mood.

You remember flowers just like it had grown in your yard. You had always loved them as a child. Making the ground look like a fairy had come in the night and laid an inviting yellow carpet on the ground just for you. You would sit outside, huddled behind the tree trunk with your stuffed teddy and have a fake tea party with a fairy princess.  A way to escape from the sounds of your parents fighting. Dishes breaking. A way to stay out of trouble. Out of sight. Out of mind.        

When you were older you would sometimes find them in your locker. Always after a "bad night"... Reaching down and brushing the solitary flower with the tip of a finger...  Memory of Pitt leaning against your locker, hands shoved deep in his pockets, winking at you when you opened your locker, "Wild flowers for a wild girl..." 


God damn it.

Gripping your head, needing something to distract you from your thoughts. Nothing good will come from wandering down memory lane. Standing abruptly and stamping out the flower. Stamping out your childhood. Grinding it into the dirt with your heel. Rubbing the back of your neck, trying to ease the ever growing anxiety. Glancing around to see if anyone noticed your irrational behavior. 

Empty truck at the loading bay. A few saviors milling around. Pitt and Cam casually leaning against the building in low conversation. Your stomach flips. How can you get rid of your memories when they are always visible but out of reach. Living ghosts haunting you. 

Taking one last longing look at Pitt before turning and taking off like a bat out of hell. Hoping they didn't notice you.

Concentrating on the pounding of your feet on the ground. Pushing yourself faster. Breathing in through your nose, out through your mouth. Repeat. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Running around the building, again and again trying to outrun your thoughts. Memories dogging your heels. 

Eventually skidding to a halt near the back of the building. Sweat pouring down your body, lungs on fire. The treeline beyond the field taunting you. Hooking your hands into the fence, pressing your face into it, shutting your eyes. Feeling the cool breeze. Trying to imagine what it will feel like to be free again. All this pain and torment will be worth it if you can just break free.         

Maybe you'll go where you lost your husband and son... Maybe they're still out there, roaming around. Ready to welcome you home. Getting ripped apart doesn't seem so bad if it's by the ones you loved. You should have died that day with them anyway. Everyone would have been better off. 

Not that you deserve a homecoming. Not with what you've become. 

Maybe you'll head back to your childhood home. No fear of happy memories there... Except how could you face the house next door.

Sighing and taking one last look at the treeline. The sun is high in the sky. You'll have to figure out where your going later. Right now you need to head in and get ready for tonight. No matter what happens you need to play the part of the good little wife. Regaining Negan's trust will be key in getting an opportunity to run. 

Wearily trudging around the building to the stairs. Your foot freezing on the bottom step, tunnel vision where the flower you destroyed was this morning. Three new yellow wild flowers, cheerfully laying in the dirt. Mocking you. You're frozen. Rooted to the spot. 

Glancing around the yard to see who's there. Who's watching.

You don't see anyone. But that doesn't mean you're alone. 

Who would have left the flowers. Who would know what those flowers mean to you. Only Pitt. Had he been watching earlier? Growing up you had ways of communicating with each other between classes. The normal leaving notes in lockers, in books in the library, an inside joke scrawled on a desk. A cairn of rocks by the mailbox meant Pitt wasn't home but his window was open. A soccer ball next to his front step meant your parents were drunk, fighting, and you should sneak in or come back later. Why would he have left the flowers. After yesterday? He wouldn't. What would be the purpose? It would only put everyone in danger. No.

Those flowers can't be from Pitt. Which means they can only be from one person.


Is this a test? Seeing if you see the flowers and rush to someone else?          

Hair prickling on the back of your neck. Spooked, rushing back inside, up the stairs. 

You need to get ready for tonight. Negan is just trying to throw you off. You have to show him you changed. You can be good.

Other peoples lives depend on it.    


Chapter Text

The bathroom is the usual flurry of motion when you get upstairs. The wives in various stages of undress. Nicole exits the shower, not even bothering to turn the water off when she sees you waiting. You quickly strip off your running clothes, jumping in. Rolling your eyes when Amber reminds you to deep condition your hair. 

You're immediately placed in a chair when you're done so they can attack your hair, nails and face. Swarming over you. Perfecting your imperfections. Discussing what you should wear, like you're not even there. A life size blow up doll for your collective husband.

A thing.

An object. 

Stuffed into a plum purple and black lace push up bra with matching panties, black plunging v neck fit and flare dress. Heels that make your ankles want to snap. Nails polished. Face painted. Hair in loose glossy waves again. Perfect for pulling. 

Marie shoves a drink into your hands, eyes glittering with malice. "Now listen up. I don't care if he throws you across the table and fucks you while we watch. You do whatever the hell he asks and you thank him when he's done. Do you understand me?"

Nodding your head mutely, wondering if all this anger still steams from a stupid painting. Marie flounces out with Amber and Nicole close behind. Sherry briefly stays behind, smoothing your dress as she talks. "Negan threatened that if we can't get you to start following the rules he was going to start extending punishments to all of us."

Blinking in surprise. 

She smiles at you with sad eyes, "You can do that for us, right Tess? Just follow the rules. He always wins... So, let him..." Closing your eyes as she leans closer, brushing a kiss on your cheek. She smells like vanilla and clove. Soft clicking of her heels as she leaves. 

Looking in the mirror, a stranger staring back at you with vacant doll eyes. Gulping down the drink. Vodka on the rocks. 

Just do what he wants. Listen. Obey. Mold yourself to what he wants. You can do that. You've done it before. Become nothing. No one. The the glass in your hand trembles before falling out of listless fingers, smashing on the tile. Blinking yourself out of the trance...

It's just for a little while longer. 

Wearily walking to the lounge, sliding onto a bar stool. Disdainful eyes following your every move. The albatross of the room.

Waiting for your summons. Waiting to find out what Negan will demand of you. The master manipulator. Going after every minuscule crack in your armor. Even ones you didn't know you had. Alienated from the wives. They are nothing and everything. Your only source of companionship and belonging. Your old group stripped from you. Now your new group, the wives, dangling by a thread. What happens when the thread breaks? 

Simon arrives, escorting your small group to the dining room. Smirking when he sees you, "Following the rules today..." 

You don't bother responding to his dig. Don't bother tugging on your hemline or fidgeting with the uncomfortable clothes. You are a thing. A gift. Your comfort doesn't matter. Simon's words don't matter. His hand lower than necessary, thumb rubbing small circles at the small of your back, making your skin crawl, doesn't matter. Guiding you to a chair, to the left of Negan's. Barely batting an eye when he takes the seat across from you, Negan's right hand man with front row seats for whatever happens next.

When Negan enters everyone stands. Greeting each wife, naturally pausing at you to inspect your attire. Kissing your neck. Kissing your shoulder. Hands roaming. You don't bat an eye. Releasing you to sit at the head of the table. You return to your seat without comment. Reminding yourself that you are nothing. If this is all he wants, a compliant little doll, then that's what you'll give him.

Simon stares at you across the table, absentmindedly stroking his mustache.  

Dinner is served and the wives eat in silence. Negan and Simon in deep conversation about the plans for handling the group that attacked the outpost. It sounds like an intricate trap has been set, waiting on the other group to unknowingly put the ball in motion.

Staring unseeing at your plate pushing a piece of lettuce around with your fork, listening to Negan and Simon. Lost in thought. Watching the light bounce of the tongs. Your stomach twists. These people have no idea who they're dealing with. What Negan is capable of.

But they will.


Lost in thought, you don't notice when silence descends the room. Only when Negan clears his throat do you glance around. Startled to see everyone looking at you expectantly, someone standing next to you holding a small box. Heart filling with dread, it's Pitt, face void of emotion, blank eyes staring over your shoulder sending chills up your spine. Swallowing thickly, meeting Negan's expectant eyes. 

Here is is. Your surprise.

Gingerly taking the box like it holds explosives. Inwardly praying Pitt can leave before you have to open it. Placing it on the table. Looking at it. Wishing you knew what it was so you could be prepared. Glancing around the table. All eyes glued to the box.    

Negan reaches over, sliding it in front of him, wordlessly beckoning you to sit on his lap. Pitt's hasty retreat cut short, "Stay, you should see this too."


Your arms feel like lead, you can't bring yourself to reach for it. Chewing on your bottom lip. Simon is leaning forward in his seat, the picture of vulgar curiosity. Negan's large warm hand ghosting up your leg, under your dress, skimming your inner thigh causing you to jump. The scruff of his chin scratching your shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck. "Well... Aren't you going to open it, kitten? I picked it out, special... just for you." Negan's velvety voice, alarm bells screaming in your mind. 

Glancing at the other wives expectant faces. Marie pointedly clears her throat. If you don't comply they'll all suffer the consequences.

Check Mate. There's no way out of this.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Inwardly cursing as you lift the lid. Pulling out what looks like leather coiled in on itself. 

The edge in his voice is unnerving as he takes it from you. "Let's see how it fits." Unraveling it to reveal a clasp at the end that he swiftly clips onto your bondage collar. 

If you continue to fuck up, I will continue to treat you like an animal... 

Swallowing down the bile that's rising in your throat. He told you the consequences and you didn't listen. Your face burning in shame, wishing the floor would open and swallow you whole. Why didn't you fucking listen. 

His hand grips your chin, forcing your eyes to his, "You know I don't like seeing you like this, sweetness. I warned you... I'm a man of my fucking word. I hope this will help remind you... to follow the rules..." 

Nodding your head mutely. Dropping your eyes in submission. 

"Do you have anything to say to your loving husband, for getting you such a thoughtful gift?"

Your voice is barely a whisper, "Thank you, Negan."

"I didn't quite hear that, doll. So I fucking know the rest of the room didn't."

Clearing your throat, "Thank you, Negan." Meeting his eyes you can tell he wants more. Hyper aware of Pitt standing just behind his right shoulder, leaning forward brushing your lips with Negan. Kissing him softly at first until he starts to grip your hips harder, pulling you into him. Knowing he wants a show. Twisting the knife for maximum effect. Sliding your hands into his hair. 

He pulls away abruptly, smirking at you. "I knew you would love it." His one hand remains precariously high on your thigh, up your dress. Grinning up at Pitt, "It suites her, don't you think?"

Tension radiating off Pitt in waves. Fists by his side, jaw tight, eyes shooting daggers at Negan.  

"Watch how you're fucking looking at me..." Warning tone in Negan's voice making you cringe. 

Eyes full of loathing when they meet yours. Huffing, rubbing the back of his neck, "If that's the kind of shit you're into..."

Negan's dark eyes rake over you, large calloused fingers toying with your collar, "Not your ball of wax, huh? Hell, I get it. But you know, there's something to be fucking said about seeing something you want, reaching out and fucking taking it." Jerking a little on your leash. "There's no time in this new world to pussy foot around... But I guess you already fucking knew that. Probably have a few regrets rolling around in that head of yours. Would have played it a bit differently after what's his face and the kid bit the big one. Amiright?" Cupping your cheek in fake tenderness. Your stomach twists violently hearing muted gasps around the table. Your big dark secret laid bare for everyone. Grinning at you devilishly, relishing in your discomfort.

Regarding Pitt again, "But... you can't let that shit eat you up on the inside, turn you off course. You keep yourself on the straight and narrow with me and you get rewarded... Which reminds me... How are things with Layla...?" 

Pitt looks at the floor, brow furrowed, "Fine."

The hairs on the back of your neck standing on end, something isn't right. 

"Reeeeeeeeealy... Thing is... Layla, she came to see me today. Sounds like you two hit a rough patch. I won't tell you what she said, pretty sure you know the gist..." Negan's fingers in your hair, twirling a strand thoughtfully. "She spun quite the tale for me..."

Pitt shifts from foot to foot, distinctly uncomfortable. 

"Just so you know, I tried to do right by you. Tried to steer her back to your dick where she belongs." Laughing a little to himself, "she wasn't having it. Begging me to take her on as a wife... on her knees... nearly broke my heart..." Licking his bottom lip, faraway expression on his face, "you should have fucking seen her..."

You squirm on Negan's lap nervously glancing at Pitt. Is this why he's here? So Negan can rub another conquest in his face. Did Negan take a new wife? If he did, where the hell is she? You'll ring her God damned neck for leaving Pitt. 

Negan continues grinding salt in the wound, "Being as she had already made up her fucking mind about you and I am such a diligent man, I gave her a test drive... Seems she wasn't up to my particular standards, especially in the dick sucking department." Nudging Pitt conspiratorially, "Tess has me spoiled... You really missed out if you never got a throat massage from her." Sharing a laugh with Simon, "SOoooo basically, I had to cut Layla loose... Thought maybe if you swallow your pride the way Tess swallows my loads, you might be able to win her back, consider it a consolation prize, for following the fucking rules. You get what I'm saying..."

Pitt's eyes black with rage, "Yeah..." 

Gripping your hair tight, pulling your head back a bit to emphasis his thinly veiled warning, "Do. Not. FUCK. With. My. Shit... You fuck with my shit and you'll start loosing limbs. We clear?"

Pitt's face has gone ashen, "Yeah, we're clear." 

"Good. Make sure it fucking stays that way and you'll be coming up roses."

The tension in the room is palatable. The other wives faces pale even though none of Negan's anger had been directed at them.   

Rising from his seat, winking at Pitt, clapping him on the shoulder, "Tess and I have some more things to work out." Pulling you with him toward the door. "Simon, escort my wives to the bar tonight, they earned it." 

Dragging you out into the hall by your leash. You feel like your going to vomit. What the fuck just happened? Why the fuck was Negan threatening Pitt like that? What the fuck did Layla say to Negan that would get him so riled up?

Rage coursing through you. 


After everything she saw yesterday, she had run straight into the lions den. Asking to be a wife? Begging to be one. Throwing away Pitt like he was nothing? Hurting him after everything Negan's been putting him through? Layla better hope you never see her again. Your gonna fucking kill her.  

You're in a fury by the time Negan drags you into a room where a group of saviors are playing poker. Play stops immediately when he enters.

"Sorry boys, Simon won't be joining you this fine fucking evening. I just wanted to swing by and re-fucking-iterate what was discussed in the meeting this afternoon. Starting tomorrow, if you don't report where you've been fucking assigned you'll be answering to Lucille, and my dirty girl isn't feeling real forgiving these days... We are gonna make those cocksuckers pay for what they did..." Cam smirking at you across the table catches Negan's eye. "You got something to say to my wife, Cam?"

Snickering, looking at Negan, "Yeah, what the hell happened to her... I mean, Jesus..." Gesturing vaguely in your direction. 

Negan turns toward you stroking your face, thumb pulling gently on your bottom lip, "It's time my little hellcat learned to stop testing me. I'm hoping being put on a leash will help her to remember the rules..." Slowly inserting his thumb into your mouth, giving a low groan as you gently suck... "Good girl..."

Cutting him off lazily, "No, no... The leash I get." Catching your eye. "It's the fucking clothes, the makeup... What the fuck did they do to you?" 

Snarling at him in a rage, "Fuck off Cam!" Negan's grip on your leash keeping you from launching yourself across the table. Why the fuck is he trying to antagonize you. Fucking dick.  

Mischievous twinkle in his eye, "You look like a carbon copy of all the other wives. I almost couldn't tell you apart from Layla over there..."

You're like a bloodhound who caught the scent. Snapping your head in the direction he pointed. Layla. On a dirty couch in the corner, sucking face with a savior. Scowling in their direction cracking your knuckles. That fucking bitch is gonna pay. Taking a step in their direction. Not noticing when Negan, drops the leash, allowing you the freedom to stalk toward the couch.

The savior she's sucking face with notices you first, gently putting his hands on her shoulders to get her attention, nodding towards you.

Sneering at him, "How's Negan's dick taste?"

Layla's, mouth pops open in shock. Blanching in horror when you turn your attention to her, "did you at least brush your teeth in between or did you dive right onto the next available cock?"

The savior looks confused, pulling his hands off her like he was burned, sliding away from her face deathly pale. "You slept with Negan?" Tainted goods. Spitting onto the floor, wiping his mouth. Frantic. "I'm sorry Sir, I had no idea..." 

Cutting him off, "Don't worry, she's not a wife... He just fucked her and then threw her ass to the side like the trash she is."

Layla stands to her full height, livid, "Bitch!"

Rolling your shoulders in agitation, "Just calling it how I see it, sweetheart. You were with Pitt last night, Negan this afternoon and now this guy? You better slow down, honey. You don't want to get a bad reputation."

Layla clumsily launches herself at you. Anticipating, ducking easily under her grasp. Grabbing her by the hair, ripping her head back and twisting one of her arms painfully behind her till she's contorted into an unnatural angle. Her free hand desperately clawing at the hand holding her hair, trying to free herself. Tears running down her face. "You never deserved him, bitch, and if you touch him again I'll rip your fucking throat out."

Turning her to face Negan, "Useless... She can't fight or fuck." You let her struggle a little more, tears running down her face, thoroughly humiliated, before pushing her away from you onto the poker table. None of the men try to break her fall. Chips and cards scattering. 

"Damn, my wife is cold!" Negan crows, rearing back, grinning ear to ear, "Seeing you get all jealous like that... Mmmm. That shit gets me harder then a steel pipe. Why don't we see if we can work out some of that aggression."  Gripping your leash, pulling you against his chest, "You can beat my meat all night long." Swagger in his step, leading you toward the door. 

Glancing back into the room, for a moment it feels like old times. Cam nods his head in silent amused approval, winking. His grin is infectious and you return it without thinking. 

The moment is quickly broken. Pulled out of the door. The leash a stark reminder that you need your focus to be solely on satisfying Negan. Whatever it takes. Glad Negan misconstrued your attack as jealousy over him... Not someone else... Now you just need to drive the message home. You belong to Negan. You can and will follow his rules.

Negan stops briefly outside his office door to address the guard. "I don't want to be fucking disturbed tonight. Unless the God Damned world is on fire, I do not exist. I'll have my walkie tuned to my private channel. If I get disturbed for some unimportant bullshit, it'll be your balls. Understand?" 

He's pulled you through the door before the guard is done giving a curt nod. Tugging you toward him by your leash. Biting his bottom lip playfully, stroking his free hand down your face until it rests on your throat, lightly squeezing in warning. "Now as much as this shit turns me on I need you to understand something. I own your sweet ass and I'm running out of fucking patience. The next time you try to test me... Someone is gonna end up on the wrong side of Lucille, and I think you know who that someone is." 

Heart thudding in your chest, maintaining eye contact. "Yes, Negan."

Dark eyes straying to your mouth when you say his name. Dropping your leash, propping Lucille on her stand by the door. "Pour us some drinks, doll." Tossing his leather jacket and glove across a chair. Sitting at the desk pulling papers toward him. Barking orders into his walkie, making contact with his top lieutenants before sighing off for the night. 

Walking purposefully to his liquor cabinet. Slowly shedding your dress while perusing the labels. Grabbing two tumblers, adding ice and generous pours of Johnnie Walker Blue to each glass. 

Slinking over to his chair, taking a drink from your glass, letting the liquor burn down your throat offering him the other. His eyes dilating as you approach, leaning back, lewdly surveying your body, "Well. Look. At. You..."

Taking another slow sip, a drip of condensation falling off the glass, hitting your collar bone, sliding down your skin. Negan's dark eyes hungrily following the trail it leaves behind. Placing the glass on his desk, removing your bra, biting your bottom lip as it slips through your fingers. Smirking, swirling your middle finger in your glass, slowly sucking the whiskey off. Dipping your finger back in, rubbing drops of the amber liquid onto each nipple.  

"Don't fucking tease me, sweetness..."

Brazenly straddling his thighs, purring, "Never..." into his ear. Kissing him fervently, pulling his head back by his hair, nipping his bottom lip, his earlobe, his neck. Clawing at his shirt, pulling it up over his head. Leaving a trail of scratches down his back. Knowing he likes you ruff, aggressive. 

Growling deep in his throat, taking control, enthusiastically licking and sucking the whiskey off your skin, pulling your hips tight against his. Your moaning, arching into his touch, rolling your hips, rubbing yourself against his raging hard on like a bitch in heat. Teeth scraping a nipple has you calling his name. Hands creeping up your thighs rubbing lazy circles on your clit has you whimpering in need. Begging him to move faster. Begging him for more.

The walkie on his desk crackles... 

Grunting slightly, Negan moves up to kissing and sucking on your neck, teeth grazing your skin, while you breathlessly urge him on, "Please, Negan, mmmm more."

Hands fumbling to remove your panties... 

More crackling.. "Negan..."

He huffs, paused, one hand threaded through your hair, pulling your head back, the other tugging at his own belt. 


Releasing you grumbling under his breath, "Mother fucking Christ..." Picking up the walkie, "What, God Damn it."

Frustration coursing through you, recognizing Dwight's voice. Sliding off his lap, Negan jerks on your leash, shaking his head in a silent command for you to stay.

"Red said you were looking for me..."

Shifting uncomfortably, trying to adjust his hard on, giving you an idea.

Dwight continues, "There was a situation..."

Lowering to your knees, running your nails up his thighs to finish undoing his belt. Popping the button, unzipping the fly, palming his length, pulling him out. Negan slightly raises himself so you can shimmy his pants and boxers off.

"What fucking situation..."

Leaning his head back with a throaty groan when you start swallowing his girth at a leisurely pace. 

"We caught a few people snooping around, I think they're getting suspicious."

Hissing through his teeth as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. Large hand on the back of your head, shoving you back down nearly gagging you, "Annnnnnnnd...." 

Dwight must be able to hear the impatience in Negan's voice, nervously continuing. "We caught them,"

Popping him out of your mouth, licking up his shaft, moaning when you swallow him whole again. His fingers twisted painfully in your hair, trying to slow your movements, his hips starting to buck up into your eager mouth. Voice strained, "Do you recognize them."

"One is the man who helped me... before. The one I told you about."

Hallowing your cheeks, dragging him back out of your mouth with a pop. Flicking your tongue over the tip before swallowing him whole again. Negan's groaning, dick twitching. Getting close. "Good... Fuck.... That's so fucking good."

Dwight's voice hesitant,"Uh... So... uhhh, It shouldn't be long till the others come lookin for 'em. Thought you should know..."

With one final shove, he holds your head down and you're greedily swallowing his load shooting down your throat. Wiping a hand down his slack face when he's done. Sounding more like his normal boisterous self, "Well, that is good fucking news D. That's the shit I like to hear. Fuck. It was so good I just blew my load." 

Cheeky grin at you, pulling you up by the leash, crowding you until your forced to sit on his desk. "Job well done." Your not sure if he means you or Dwight... Large hand twisting and plucking your nipples till your squirming, moaning softly. Shifting, spreading your legs wider.  

"I want to know the second the others make a move." Licking his lips, eyeing your splayed legs. 

"Yes, Sir."

"And D... You keep up the good work and you might just earn yourself a pass to the pussy parlor..."

"Thank you, Negan."

Tossing the walkie aside. "Now, where the fuck were we..."  Pushing you back on his desk, raising an ankle to his mouth, kissing down your leg. Free hand creeping up the other. Feeling like your going to burst into flame by the time he's nuzzling your soft inner thigh, fingers dancing around his target. 

Your whimpering and writhing on his desk, desperate for more. One large hand holds your hips from bucking as he slides his tongue up your slit. "Fuck me, Negan... Please." He's set a deliberately slow pace, driving you wild. On the edge. Trying to reach down and grab his hair to force his face onto the mark earns you a bite to the inner thigh. Desperate for release, sliding your own hand down.

Negan catches your wrist, animistic growl deep in his throat, pinning both arms above your head, looming over you. "I sure hope you weren't doing what I think you were doing..." Glancing down his body you can see he's ready to go again.

Meeting his eyes, pleading, "Please..." Attempting to arch your body toward him. "I need you inside me...." 

A dark gleam in his eye, moving to kiss your neck while his cock lightly teases your pussy, driving you crazy. Trying to wrap your legs around his hips to bring him closer. Running his nose lightly up your neck, breath ghosting on the shell of your ear, "I should just fucking leave you here, a dripping wet mess, aching for me.." Sliding his dick up and down your entrance.

Whimpering, "No, Negan, please... I need more."

Husking, "Do you..." Teasing never stopping. 

Your a shaking, quivering mess, "Yes... Negan, please..." Shifting downward, hoping he slides inside. Panting, begging, "Please..."

"And who do you want to give it to you?"

"You, Negan, please... Only you!" 

"That's my girl." Your mouth opening wide, moaning loudly as he slowly slides his length inside you. Your legs wrapping around his hips. Keeping a lazy pace and soon your begging him for it, harder, faster. You're so close to release, teetering on the edge. "I'm almost there, Negan, please..."

"Please what," Stopping all movement entirely, "What do you want..."

"Please, please, don't stop, let me finish."

Rumbling deep in his chest, snapping his hips forward, "You want more?" One large hand gripping your throat, your arching, eyes rolling back in your head. "You want this," thumb from his other hand comes down to stroke your clit while he grinds into you.

Your practically incoherent, "Yes, yes, please..."

"Who do you belong to?"

"NEGAN!" One final thrust and you both come undone. Stars exploding behind your eyes. Only realizing his hand is still gripping your throat as the aftershock wears off.

Releasing you, panting, cleaning himself up with his white shirt before tossing it in your face, with a gruff, "Put this on." Leading you toward the door as you slide the shirt over your head. 

You're surprised when he unhooks your leash, pushing you unceremoniously out of the door. "She's not allowed off this floor unless I fucking say so."

Cutting you off before you can protest, "Now what kind of a responsible leader would I be if I let you have freedom to roam? My little hellcat already attacked someone tonight, and that was while you were ON your fucking leash... Hell, if I wasn't there you probably would have killed that poor girl in a fit of fucking jealousy."  Smirking in your horrified face, "Sweet dreams, princess. Sounds like we have a long fucking day tomorrow."

Walking back toward the lounge absentmindedly rubbing your neck where the collar has been chafing it. We have a long fucking day tomorrow... It sounded like the saviors were all set to spring their trap on the unfortunate souls who crossed Negan. From the discussion at dinner it sounded like he was taking a large group of men with him. Which means, Negan and the majority of his saviors would be gone tomorrow, maybe even the whole day. Leaving behind only a skeleton crew... And not his best men... Hopefully giving you the perfect opening to run. If you plan it right you might even be able to slip out of the gates and hot wire a car before they even notice. Making it much harder for them to track you down... 

It could work...

It has to work...



Chapter Text

Waking early the next morning, rushing to pull on a standard black dress. If everything goes according to plan, the last one you'll ever wear. Grabbing a book and heading to the lounge area. Glancing out the door you see a guard at Negan's door. That must mean he's still in the building. Looking out the windows toward the front gate. Trucks are lined up, being prepped. Hopefully they are leaving soon. 

Sitting on the couch with a clear view of the hallway. Trying to focus on the book, eyes jumping to the door every few seconds.

Sighing, snapping the book shut to go stare out of the windows at the trucks. Pacing near the windows, chewing on a nail. Trying to calculate how long you should wait after they leave to make your move. You'll have to get the bag from Amber's room. Hoping she has made good on her promise and collected supplies. You'd rather not tell her you need the bag. She could be a liability if she tips someone off that your leaving... Maybe you could tie her up in her room... Gag her. The chaos surrounding someone finding her could buy you more time. Or you could wait for the wives to leave the floor and search her room. You doubt she would tell anyone about the bag once you left... She's not the brightest bulb but admitting to helping you escape would be suicide.   

The other wives drifting in give you a wide berth. Avoiding eye contact with you.

Servers arrive carrying trays from the kitchens, laying out a breakfast fit for a king... A breakfast you plan on taking full advantage of. Food was always scarce since the world turned to shit. Being on the run would only make it worse. At least in the beginning. Wondering how many days you would be running before feeling safe... Probably never... 

Pacing and so lost in thought you almost run into one of the servers. Stopping short when she turns to glare at you.


Someone you once counted as a friend. Someone who would now happily see you die a thousand deaths.

Anxiously rubbing your wrists together... attempting to make amends, knowing this is your last chance,  "Sorry, Laura... I...."

"Save it, I hope you choke on your fucking eggs." Two other serving woman rushing to Laura as her eyes fill with tears. Giving you baleful looks as they lead her out.

Sighing, rubbing the back of your neck, turning back to the windows. It's probably better this way. No words will ever take away the pain of loosing her husband. The best gift you can give her is run away so Laura will never have to see you again. Maybe she'll get her wish and you'll die a painful death. Maybe Negan will catch you and make you a lesson... Maybe she'll have a front row seat...  

You notice trucks pulling out of the gates. Your heart rate picks up.

This is it.

It's happening.

Pressing your hands against the glass, laughing in disbelief.

The wives notice your change in demeanor. Marie looks out the windows skeptically, "What? Looks like their going scavenging?"

Trying to contain a fit of giggles, "Their leaving... Their going to find the group that took out that outpost..." Looking at her triumphantly, practically vibrating with excitement, "Could take all day..."

Raising her eyebrow at you, "Ooooooookay..." moving back to the table to eat. 

The other wives are already sitting and eating, all eyeing you nervously as you down two cups of coffee before pouring a third and piling a plate high with food. More food than you normally eat all day. 

Sherry tries to diplomatically clear her throat, "Tess, are you sure you're ok. You seem a little... keyed up." 

Cutting her off through a mouthful of food, "I'm fine."

Nicole looking nauseated, "You don't look fine... And there's a rumor that you attacked someone last night..."

"Layla," Amber sniffs, keeping her eyes trained on the coffee clutched in her dainty hands.

Snapping, "And?" 

Nicole shifts uncomfortably in her seat, shrugging her shoulders, eyes downcast. 

Amber slams her cup down, "and you didn't have to do that! No one beat you up when Negan brought you on as a wife!" Her eyes are glassy, bottom lip quivering with emotion. 

Huffing a laugh, "Yeah, OK, I'll remember that for next time." Jumping up from your seat. Pacing near the windows again, glancing at the clock, mumbling to yourself as you run numbers in your head. It's 8 am, if I wait two hours it'll be 10am... still plenty of daylight. Glancing out the window, it looks like dust rising from trucks on roads headed south east, towards where our camp was when we were caught, so that means should head north maybe north west....

Standing indignantly, "Is that all you have to say! You'll remember for next time!"

Stopping and looking at Amber blankly, "Huh? Remember what?"

Sherry jumps in to herd the wives out of the room as Amber starts screeching at you. You can hear her voice crescendo before gradually diminishing as they head down stairs to do whatever they are going to do for the day. 

Taking advantage of their absence. Rushing to Amber's room, it takes all of 10 seconds to find the bag, sitting at the bottom of her closet in plain view. Glad you're leaving now before someone found it and said something. Amber wouldn't hesitate to rat you out now that you got in a fight with her friend. Of course the supplies she had managed to grab were minimal. A few breakfast bars, some gum, toothbrush and one bottle of water.

What the fuck did she think you were doing with this bag? 

Carrying it back to your room. Going to the bar to grab some bottles of water, a small paring knife, lighter, and bottle of vodka. You never know when you might need vodka. Stashing your loot back in the bag and stuffing it into the back of your closet behind dresses and under a spare blanket... Just in case. 

Heading to the bathroom for one last hot shower.  Bathing in streams again is going to suck. 

Stopping short.

There's a guard, Tyler, standing outside of Negan's office door.

That's odd.

Usually the guards don't bother guarding his office when he isn't in the building. And you know the trucks left already... 

The guard notices you standing in the hall so you quickly duck into the wive's bathroom before he gets suspicious. You don't have time to worry about him right now. You need to get everything together so you can bail.

First things first you paw through the bottles on the counters until you score some pain pills. Two bottles, Excedrin and Ibuprofen. Placing them aside with a few other toiletry items you may need.

After your shower, heading back to the lounge with the smuggled items wrapped securely in your towel. Stuffing the loot from the bathroom into your bag with some socks, pants and shirts. Putting the clothes your planning on wearing when you run for it on top of the bag. Your favorite pair of jeans, tank and beat up flannel. You know there are some rips in the pants and a few buttons coming loose on the flannel. There is a sewing kit in the wive's bathroom. You'll have to grab it to stitch them up before leaving.       

Heading back out to the lounge to grab the kit. Tyler is still standing in the hall outside of Negan's office.


Ducking back into the lounge squeezing the bridge of your nose. Tyler's going to be a problem. You were planning on sneaking down the stairs by dodging the normal roaming floor guards. The addition of the office guard is going to make things tricky with Negan's new "Tess can't leave the floor without permission" rule.

You might have to incapacitate him if he doesn't leave... Overpowering him isn't a viable option. He's much larger and it would cause too much noise, most likely drawing the attention of the other two guards.

The kitchen will be bringing lunch soon. Maybe you can crush a sleeping pill into a sandwich for him. Remembering Marie had dosed you with sleeping pills a few days ago. She must have a stash in her room somewhere.  

It doesn't take you long to find the pills. Stuffed into the back corner of the drawer of her nightstand. You're not sure of the proper dose but she had given you two pills that day. Shaking out three to be safe. Taking them back out to the bar and crushing them into a powder on a plate.

Now you just have to wait for the food. Then you can drug Tyler, grab the sewing kit and fix your clothes while you wait for the drugs to take effect. Once he's eliminated from the picture you can run like a bat out of hell before Negan and his saviors get back and realize your gone. 

It's going to work... It has to. 

When the food finally arrives the wives do too. Putting a temporary halt to your plans. You can't risk drugging a guard with them hanging around. You manage to make an extra sandwich that you stash behind the bar but, by the time the leave on their next "errand" you are several hours behind schedule. You'll just have to pray that Negan and his group don't return until nightfall. Staying is no longer an option. 

Coyly walking toward Tyler trying to emulate Amber and look alluringly bashful while offering him the drugged sandwich. "I thought you might be hungry... Standing around in this hall all day has to get boring."

He regards you skeptically, taking the sandwich with a curt, "thanks."

"Any idea when Negan will be back?" Innocently twirling your hair.

Letting out a long breath, "I ain't telling you shit and I know your not allowed off this floor. Better get your ass back to the lounge where you belong before Negan catches you out here."

Pouting out your bottom lip, huffing, "Uggg, fine! Even though he can't catch me, he's not even here. I'll follow his stupid rule... Make sure you tell him that when you see him." 

Rolling your eyes and heading back to the wive's bathroom to grab the sewing kit. Standing in front of the mirror counting slowly to one hundred in your head. Calming your beating heart. It's almost time. Everything has been working mostly to plan. Mostly. Freedom. So close you can taste it.

Wondering how long the pills will take to work their magic. Leaving the bathroom, Tyler smirks at you from Negan's door. Thinking to yourself, keep smirking chump, Negan will have your head when he gets back. Opening the sewing kit to sort through the items as you go back into the lounge. There's several spools of thread, small scissors, a few needles, and an assortment of buttons. More than enough to fix your jeans and flannel. 

"Hi, doll." Negan's velvety voice greets you as you round the doorway.

You stand in shock, mouth popped open, sewing kit falling out of your hands, scattering on the floor. Frozen to the spot. 

"Surprised to see me?" Cheeky grin, displaying his dimples. 

Swallowing hard. Trying to act normal. Stuttering, "You... I thought you were with the trucks... They... They left this morning..."

Standing to his full height, grinning at you triumphantly. "That they did, darling." Waving Lucille lazily, "Grunt work." Stalking toward you, "There were several locations mapped out for fucking meet n' greet we have planned and now that we know which one they're destined for I'm heading out..." Standing behind you, moving your hair to one side, husking in your ear while pulling you against him, "care to join me..." 

Questioning weakly, as all you plans crumble before your eyes, "You want me to join you?"

His hands are groping, squeezing and rubbing along your curves, "Tyler said you were bored, can't fucking deal with that shit the way I normally would, so.... I thought you might like to go for a different kind of ride." Nipping and licking your neck, "What do you say, doll? if we're fucking lucky we might be able to sneak a few minutes of us time..."

Closing your eyes so he can't see the despair, "Yeah, that sounds good... Let's go."

Standing to his full height again, leaning back, crowing, "Mmmmm, I love when a plan comes together, don't you?" Smacking your ass, "Go get dressed."

Stumbling forward, trying to swallow the bile rising in your throat. You need to get your emotions locked down before Negan realizes how close he came to catching you. He was inside the building the whole time. He was in the lounge alone, looking for you while you were waiting for the sleeping pills to knock Tyler out. Relieved, there was nothing left out in plain site, but... What if he had poked around your closet... Did he find your bag? Shit... How long ago did Tyler eat those pills... How fast do they work? If Tyler passes out in the hall before you leave Negan will know immediately something was up. 

Negan's sing song voice interrupting your train of thought, "Tick tock, doll, I want wheels up in fucking 5"

Frantically pulling on the clothes you had been intending to wear. Shoving your foot into a boot and lacing it up. Stuffing your foot in the next one, something sharp digging into your toes. Pulling it off, to rummage around with your hand. There was something in your boot that got stuffed into the toe when you shoved your foot in. Pulling out a folded wad of paper. Opening it, confusion turning to horror... It's a fucking map... the fucking map. Your fucking map. Someone stuffed the map you stole into your God damned boot. Picking it up off the floor with shaking hands, there's something written in block letters. Titling it to the side, squinting to read, Baby, if you run, we'll find you... Stuffing your fist in your mouth to suppress a scream... Face draining of color. Who fucking left this in here, who fucking wrote that. We will find you... Did Negan do this? Another game? Another threat. We will find you...  

You can hear Negan's boots clomping up the hall. Rashly stuffing the map under your mattress. Negan opens the door to find you kneeling, lacing up your boot with trembling fingers. "You fucking ready or what?"

Standing up, straightening your shirt, mouth dry, "Yeah, let's go."

Walking out the door toward the the stairs that will lead to the truck with Negan following close behind, whistling an eerie tune.     

Chapter Text

Sitting ramrod straight in the passenger seat. Unsuccessfully trying to calm your nerves.

Negan lazily steers around potholes, driving with one hand, black truck hurtling down the road like one of the four horsemen. "Bee in your bonnet doll face?" You can feel his eyes regarding you suspiciously. "I thought you would be fucking thrilled to get outside the gates... Thought I might get some road head as a fucking thank you... But you're over there looking like the world is about to end."

Forcing yourself to slide back into the seat. Twisting the hem of your plaid shirt. "Where are we going?"  Swallowing painfully. "We're gonna ambush this group like you did to us, aren't we?"

Incredulously, "Excuse the fuck out of me? Ambush you? Ohhhhh fuck darling, I think you got that shit twisted. From what I remember your little brigade of idiots laid a trap to try and ambush MY fucking people." Eyeing you menacingly. "And tell me doll, how did that shit work out for you and your people?"

Eyes downcast, "Not well..."

Muttering angrily to himself, "Ambush your people. Fucking please. We would have moved in and collected your asses sooner if Red hadn't overheard your group planning to rip me off."

"How long?" Feeling dizzy, "How long were you watching us?"

Smirking at you, "We knew the second your group moved into our area. You were camped out practically under our noses. I knew every. thing. about every. one. in your fucking group before I met you on the road that day. What you ate, where you bathed, slept. Strengths. Weaknesses. Who was fucking who..." Grinning at you slyly,"Who wanted to fuck who... Oh yeah, I knew... I knew fucking every-fucking-thing there was to know before I met you that day on the road. I had to be sure I took out the right people to make a fucking impact without wasting valuable resources... Because people... people are the greatest resource of all these days... You are a valuable resource. And your fucking group didn't appreciate that. Not the way I do..." His large hand squeezes your thigh, biting his bottom lip seductively. 

Stunned... "Wait..."

"Yup," Popping the last p... "I knew I had to have you the fucking second I saw you..."

Throat dry, your voice comes out as a rasp, "Why..."

Smirking at you, "Isn't it obvious? So I could have a wife I could take out on the road, that wouldn't get all fucking squeamish if I smash a few heads in. One that would rip the dick off anyone who tried to fucking touch her. Someone I can take out on a run and fuck against a wall after bashing the hell out walkers... You're a weapon I can stick my dick in. What the fuck more could I want?"

Furrowing your brow, mulling over this new information. 

Sighing, "Listen darling, I know you've been fighting me on this. But, if you would fucking admit it to yourself, I'm the only one on this planet that can give you every-fucking-thing you deserve. I'm the only one who hasn't abandoned your ass when you test me. That fucking douche bag Pitt? He didn't have the balls to take what he wanted when he had the chance. And instead of fucking fighting for you like a real man... He found a sad little look alike to try and fuck the pain away. From what I hear, he even called her by your fucking name the first time he fucked her..."

Your body feels numb at this news, choking out, "What..."

Clearly enjoying this new nugget of information he's dropping on your lap, "He told her you were fucking dead... That she reminded him of someone he lost... The one that got away... Fucking sap" Snorting to himself.

Gripping the seat, disoriented... What is he saying? 

"Layla? She let it go... Everybody is mourning somebody in this shit forsaken world. That is until she fucking saw you, very much alive and breathing, and put two and two together... Even then, she said she didn't bring it up... Realized you were untouchable to him... Figured she could live a better life with Pitt even if he was imagining she was you... Until  that night ya'll fucking ran into each other in the hall. He kicked her ass to the curb... Spun her some shit about not being able to live a lie with an imitation of what he really wanted. Said it wasn't fair to her... To be compared to a ghost..."

"Well you can imagine... Getting scorned like that. Lied to like that. Well that shit didn't sit well with Layla... Then to top it all off, she gets pulled upstairs, to witness you living in the lap of fucking luxury, crying to her that nothing ever happened between you and her Ex... The Ex she was hoping was going to give her a better life. The Ex that broke up with her because of you. Well that shit didn't sit right with her. And she came to me singing a tune of betrayal. Lucky for you and shit dick I've had ya'll watched like hawks so I knew there were no secret rendezvous happening behind my back... Or all that shit that happened last night would have played out a different way. She wanted his fucking head after what happened... Shit, she probably wants both your heads after you fucking humiliated her last night." 

Your brain is swimming with the wealth of information Negan just dropped in your lap. Swirling around a pinpoint of light. Pitt. Could everything he said be true? Has he been avoiding you, not even looking at you to try and hide his feelings... Or is Negan just toying with you. To see what you'll do. You can't react. Blood pounding in your ears. 

Negan's walkie crackles, "Boss we have a situation at base."  

Growling into the walkie, "What fucking situation..."

"We might have a code orange, Sir."

"So fucking handle it. Do you need me to come back to base to wipe your fucking asses after you shit too?"

You can hear the dread in the person's voice, "The thing is Sir... It's your wife... The new one. Tess."

Your ears prick up hearing your name. A shiver runs down your spine.

Negan throws back his head laughing, "Who the fuck is this?"

"Joey, Sir...."

"You fat fuck. Tess is with me. Get the fuck back to work!" 

You can hear the relief flooding through the airwaves, "That's great news Sir, we were concerned when we found Tyler incapacitated." 


Negan's laughter dies immediately, "What the fuck did you just say?"

Oh fuck...

"Tyler, Sir. He was unconscious on the floor outside your office, Doc thinks he was drugged..."

Negan slams on the breaks sending you sliding off the seat into the dashboard, crumpling to the ground. Crouching there, his predatory gaze lands on you. Guilt written across your face as you cower near the door whimpering. Hand slipping on the door handle as he reaches into his coat. Only getting a second or two head start out of the truck before you hear him launching himself after you, cursing. 

Sprinting across a field, heart hammering. You might be a quick but Negan's stride is longer and he's gaining on you. Pumping your arms, desperately trying to reach the tree line, hoping to loose him in the woods.

50 feet.

30 feet.

25 feet. 

He slams into you. Rolling in a tangle into the dirt. He's panting, pinning your body under him. Giving you a cheeky grin, "Gotcha."

You try to squirm away but he pins your arms above your head with one hand. straddling your hips as you try to buck him off. "You think you can fucking run from me? There isn't a corner of hell that you could hide in that would be safe from me. I will always find you." 

You freeze under him, the words from the map chanting in your head. If you run, we'll find you. We'll find you. We'll find you. We'll find you.

You're shaking all over. gasping for air. Reaching into his coat he pulls out the walkie. "Fatty, go up to Tess's room... See if there's a bug out bag packed and report back..."

Desperate words spilling from your mouth, "No Negan, please. I just wanted to go outside, I wouldn't run, I swear, I'll never run from you." You're more sure than ever he left the map for you to find. That the tale he spun about Layla and Pitt is a trap. If he finds out how close you were to making a break for it there's no telling what he will do. 

He slides the walkie back into his coat. Stroking your cheek, your neck, rubbing his thumb across your lower stomach. Caressing you while his dark eyes bore into your soul. "You know, I didn't want to have to do this. Hurting women is not something I fucking enjoy. But you just can't fucking help yourself can you. You always gotta be the one, pushing the fucking limits." 

Sighing grimly he reaches into his coat. Squeezing your eyes shut waiting for a bullet to rip through your brain, ending it all. Instead you hear a click as he locks the leash back in place onto your collar. Standing with a groan, dragging you up by the leash. Walking heavily toward  the truck with you limping behind him. Muttering under his breath, "I'm getting too old for this shit." 

Stopping at the truck he pins you to the side by your throat. Leaning into you. "Doll, if he finds a bag... You're gonna be having a very bad day. I want you to know that."

Nodding your head frantically.  

Walkie crackling to life. Terror pooling in your stomach, knowing what the outcome will be. Knees going weak. "Sir..."

"Spit it out dip shit. What's the verdict..." Negan's eyes pinning you to the spot.  

"Sorry Sir, the wives were in a panic. No bag. I checked the closet, drawers, even under the bed."

Relief floods through you while you school your features. You aren't sure how Joey missed your bag but you aren't going to rat yourself out.

"Huh..." Negan regards you skeptically, some of the fury draining from his eyes. Crowding into your personal space, cupping your face to whisper huskily in your ear, "You'll still have to be punished for drugging Tyler..."

Nodding your head weakly, a tear running down your face.

"But..." Pulling back with a bright grin, "I'll give you a rain-check. We have places to be and people to meet." He opens the door shoving you inside the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you.
Your nerves are on fire. Emotions, a wreak. You thought you would be free today, only to land into another of Negan's traps. He told you Pitt still cares about you, but you highly suspect he's testing you. Taunting you. Looking for any weakness to exploit. You thought he would kill you for drugging Tyler and running out of the truck. Instead your punishment has been reprieved. Sitting miserably next to him, shoulders hunched, head down, submissive. He jerks on your leash to get your attention. 

"You shouldn't need me to tell you this but, you're on thin fucking ice. If I even get a hint of disobedience while we are out there tonight, I won't fucking hesitate to add a plus one to the executioners block... You need me to spell out who that plus one might be?" 

Shaking your head forlornly. 

"Good... Now buck up buttercup and enjoy the fucking show."

Arriving at the meeting place. Lots of trucks and an RV sit at the end of clearing. Dusk is quickly darkening to night. 

Dragging you out by the leash, whistling under his breath, as Simon approaches. "There was only one of them in the RV. Looks like a suicide mission to try and throw us off the sent." Smoothing his mustache regarding you. Jerking his head to the side. "D is over by that van with the group he caught on the road..." 

"Where's the hero? In the RV?"

"Yeah, thought you might have a few questions for him."

Clapping Simon on the shoulder and as your group moves into the RV. 

Negan shoves you toward the table while he talks to Simon in low voices. Sitting across from a man, you would have laughed at in another life. This is the hero? Portly, doughy face, with a mullet, visibly quaking with fear. You couldn't think of anyone who looked less like a hero. At least your group had the fore-site to send out fighters. This man looked like he would get spooked by his own shadow.  

"You scared?"

Meeting your eye, bloodshot and tears. Nodding his head in a jerky motion.  

Stating bleakly, "Not nearly enough..." 

He flinches back when Negan jerks on your leash, handing it to Simon. "Take my kitten outside..."

Going meekly with Simon as he questions, "What the fuck did you do this time?" He leads you to a van where Dwight is perched on a bumper, smoking a cigarette. Red lurking in the shadows nearby.

Slouching on the bumper, "Nothin..."

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, "You call putting someone in the hospital nothin?"

"If you knew, why the fuck you asking me?"

Dwight snorts, looking at you out of the corner of his eye, "Who the hell you do that to?"

Simon, hands on hips regarding the ground, "Tyler."

Dwight regards you again in disbelief, "Tyler?" Stamping out the stub, "That was a dumb fucking move..."

Simon sighs, "yep," handing your leash over to Red, "Keep an eye on her, we have enough going on tonight without a hellcat on the loose."

Red grunts, taking the leash. The man from the RV is shoved out of the door to a guard, who roughly pushes him to his knees in the dirt. 

Whistles start sounding eerily around the woods making your hair stand on end. Simon spits in the dirt, "Guess that's my cue." Stomping off into the darkness. 

Shivering a little, not sure if it's from the nighttime chill or tension at what is about to transpire. These people killed a lot of Negan's men so its a safe bet someone is gonna die. 

Waiting in the darkness, echo of whistles and branches snapping in the woods. Eventually men start trickling into the clearing. A few here and there until a mass sweeps through, herding a smaller group. All the trucks lights go on flooding the clearing in light, blinding you momentarily.  

Four people are carrying a makeshift stretcher holding a 5th, a young boy trailing behind.  The caught group is frantically looking around guns out, not yet registering that they are trapped. Grossly outnumbered by Negan's men, all pointing guns in their faces. 

Simon struts in front of the group with a cheery greeting, "Good you made it, welcome to where you're going. I'll take your weapons now."

A bewildered man responds, "We can talk about it..." 

Simon cuts him off menacingly, "We're done talking. Now it's time to listen."

Negan's men swarm the group collecting their weapons. Simon strolls over to the boy who has a bandage covering an eye, "That's yours right? Yeah it's yours." Flicking his sheriff's hat.  "OK lets get her down and you all on your knees. Lot's to cover."

Some of Negan's men approach the stretcher but a large red headed man stops them, "Hold up. We got it."

Simon casually waves, "Sure... Sure."

Heart seizing in your chest, getting a look at the person who was being carried on the stretcher. A pregnant woman. Clearly in pain, clutching her abdomen, her crotch area is wet with fluid or blood. Your stomach twists in nausea and you grip the bumper to stop yourself from bolting.  

Simon's voice hazy in your ears, "I'm gonna need you on your knees." Barely registering as the group gets to their knees and the man from the RV is dragged into the lineup. Raising his voice, "Go get the other ones. Now! DWIGHT!"


"Chop chop."

Red painfully grips your arm moving you to the side so Dwight can open the van doors. The pain helps clear your mind, but this time you wish it wouldn't. You know your not going to be able to handle this with a pregnant woman possibly having a miscarriage only feet from where your standing.  

Dwight pulls people out, "Come on. You got people to meet!"

One of the men stumbles, seeing the pregnant woman, "Maggie?" Trying to move to her, agony and desperation evident in his voice. Forced back to his knees by one of the men. 

Your stomach rolls violently, that must be the father. Your brain screaming at you to run away from whatever bad things are about to happen. Panic flooding your system. 

Simon's shouting, "ON YOUR KNEES! Alright! We gotta full boat!" Walking backwards toward the RV, "Let's meet the man!" Knocking two times on the door before stalking behind the group of unfortunate souls caught in Negan's net.

The door to the RV opens and Negan walks out, the devil reincarnate. Lucille perched proudly across his shoulder.

"Pissin our pants yet? Boy do I have a feelin we're gettin close..." Walking slowly around the front of the group, "Yup. Gonna be pee pee pants city here real fuckin soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader."

Simon pipes up, "It's this one." Pointing at a man who is sweating profusely. "He's the guy."

You hope Negan makes it quick and just bashes his head in so you can leave. You don't even care about his punishment, you need to get away from the pregnant woman and her husband. 

Sighing Negan stalks closer. "Hi, your Rick right? I'm Negan, and I do not appreciate you killin my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killin my people... YOU killed more of my people. Not cool... NOT FUCKIN COOL... You have no idea how not cool that shit is... BUT I think your gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossin me in a few minuets." Grinning cheekily at Rick, "Yes you are. You see Rick, whatever you do no matter 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 fucking stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes, pay attention."

Aggressively pointing Lucille in his face. "Give me your shit or I will kill you." Smiling evilly at him. "Today was career day," stalking along the group, "We invested a lot so you would know who the fuck I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That's your job. Now I know that is a mighty big nasty pill to swallow but swallow it you most certainly will. You ruled the roost, you built something, you thought u were safe, hell, I get it. but the word is out. you are not safe. Not even fuckin close, in fact you are pegged. More pegged 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 fuckin even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. the more you fight back the harder it will be. So if someone knocks on your door? You let us in, we own that fuckin door. You try to stop us?" Jabbing Lucille in Rick's face again, "and we will knock that shit down. You understand?"

Rick seems paralyzed in shock, when he doesn't immediately respond Negan cups a hand to his ear, leaning closer, taunting him, whispering "What? no answer? Now, you didn't really think you were gonna get through all this without being fucking punished did you?"

You cringe when Negan mentions punishment. Wanting to jump in front of the group and scream at them to give him whatever he wants. Gripping the bumper of the car to try and calm your racing mind, stop yourself from doing anything drastic.   

"I don't want to kill your people, I just want to make that shit clear from the get go. I want you to work for me. You can't do that if you're dead now can you... I'm not growing a garden. BUT you killed my people, a whole fucking lot of them, more than I'm comfortable with and for that? For that you're gonna pay. So now. I'm gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you."

Proudly displaying his girl, "This? This is Lucille and she is awesome. All this. All this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor." Stalking around the group, surveying each member. The large red head straightens his posture as Negan regards him. A clear challenge. "Huh," rubbing a hand down his face, "I gotta shave this shit." Pointing at the boy with the bandaged face, "You got one of our guns, kneeling down. You got a lot of our guns. Shit kid. Lighten up, at least cry a little." Smiling between the boy and Rick, laughing to himself. Standing back up, tucking a gun into his pants, clearing his throat before walking down the line again, stopping in front of the pregnant woman. "Jesus, you look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now."

To your horror, the man you identified as the father bolts forward, begging, desperate, "No NO!" Struggling to run toward Negan. He hardly makes two steps before he's tackled to the ground while Negan looks on passively. Your stomach clenches, knowing he just put a bulls-eye on his back. 

The woman is crying, clutching her belly, sobbing, "Stop it!"

You're lightheaded, eyesight tunneling, hard to breath. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.... Keep it together you don't even know these people... 

Dwight is holding a cross bow to the man's head as he struggles on the ground. 

A crushing wave of vertigo threatens to send you to your knees. You can't watch a family get ripped apart in front of you. You can't. You can feel your sanity cracking.

Negan, "NO, nope. Get him back in line." Waving his hand causally. Sounding more like a disappointed father than an angel of death. 

Relaxing slightly as Dwight drags him back to his place where the he cries out in despair. "Don't... don't..." Begging for the life of his wife and child. 

Negan laughs good naturedly, "Alright, listen... Don't any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down no exceptions. First ones free it's an emotional moment, I fuckin get it. Sucks don't it. The moment you realize you don't know shit."

Pointing at the boy again, "this is your kid right." Looking at Rick laughing, tormenting him, "This is definitely your fuckin  kid."

Rick yells, defiant, "So Stop this!" Clearly, still struggling to grasp how utterly fucked they all are.

You can hear the torture in Rick's voice, spiking your anxiety again. What if Negan kills the kid in front of his father. Fuck, who is he going to choose. The man who seemed to challenge him, the husband to the pregnant woman, the fucking kid... Someone else. You cringe back against Red even though Negan is nowhere near you when he rears up "HEY! Do not make me kill the little future serial killer, don't make it..."

Squeezing your eyes shut, trying to focus on your breathing. Anything, anything, to distract you from nightmare unfolding. Silently praying you won't have to watch him beat a kid to death in front of his father. 
"Don't make it easy on me I gotta pick somebody. Everybody is at the table waiting for me to order." Whistling eerily. "I simply can not decide. I got an idea." Opening your eyes in sick curiosity to watch as he starts walking in front of the group, aimlessly pointing at different members, "Eeiny, Meiny, Minie, Moe. Catch, a tiger, by his toe, If he hollers, let him go. My Mother told me to pick the very best one. And. You. Are. It."

The bat lands on the big redhead. Relief floods your body. It's not the kid, or the pregnant woman or the husband. Letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You can handle watching him destroy some nameless man who, by all accounts, took part in murdering Negan's men.

"If anybody moves, if anybody says anything cut the boys other eye out and feed it to his father. And then we'll start. You can breath. You can blink. You can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doing that."

Negan swigs Lucille, expertly cracking her across the man's skull. Shouting boisterously, "Ohhh shit, look at that! Takin it like a champ."

The red head says something indistinguishable. Negan pauses to look gleefully around the group, "You hear that?" Snickering, "he said, suck my nuts!" Before rearing back, beating the poor man's skull into the ground, "Oh my goodness, Look at this," flinging Lucille so blood and brains splatter across the group. "You guys, look at my dirty girl!" Spying a distraught attractive woman in the group, "Sweetheart, lay your eyes on this." Waving Lucille under her nose. She looks ready to vomit, "Oh Damn, were you? Were u together? That sucks, but if you were? You should know, there was a reason for all this. He just took one or six or seven for the team. So take a damn look." YELLING in rage, "Take a Damn look!

A dirty disheveled man jumps up punching Negan in the face. Your jostled to the side as Red drops your leash, rushing forward with some other men to grab him. You watch in horrified fascination, sure the man just signed his own death warrant. Negan wipes blood off his lip, amused, Pointing Lucille in his face, "NO!" Then more calmly, "Oh no." Giggling again, he's starting to sound deranged, turning and walking away a bit, "That? Oh my! That, is a no no. The Whole thing. Not one bit of that shit flies here."

Dwight eagerly pressing the crossbow to his head, "Do you want me to do it? Right here!"

Negan marches toward him looking annoyed, gripping him by his hair, "No, you don't kill that, not until you try a little."

Dwight drags him back in line as Negan turns back to address the group. "Anyway, That's not how it works and I already told you people. The first one's free. And then what did I say, that I would SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN!" Your blood runs cold at Negan's grin, "no exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with... but I'm a man of my word, first impressions are important. I need you, to know me."

Your brain is firing alarm bells again. Knowing he will pick someone for maximum impact this time. He's standing nearest the group in front of you, near the man who punched him... You don't think he'll choose him, but who?

"So..." Regarding Lucille, "Back to it!" Turning viper quick, slamming the father's head.

Your body freezes in horror. 

The man appears to be trying to talk, gurgling sounds and he reaches a hand toward his wife. 

Negan leans closer, "Buddy are you still there? I just don't know but it seems like your trying to speak, but you just took a hell of a hit, I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball just popped out. And it is gross as shit!"

More gargling, barely audible, "Maggie, I'll find you...."

Negan tries to inject some sympathy into his voice, "Hell, I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry, I truly am. But I did say...." Gleefully, "No exceptions!"

Your vision goes black as you focus on staying upright and not vomiting all over the ground. All you can hear are the sounds. The pregnant woman, Maggie, screaming "NOOOOOO...." Crying all around, ricocheting off the woods, and the sickening sounds of bone and wet meat getting pounded together.

Negan's voice like a splinter in your brain, "I'm just getting started.... Lucille is thirsty," laughing while the unrelenting pounding continues.

Warm fluid hitting your face breaks you out of the daze. Blood, flung off the bat, across your body. Blood from the father of the baby. The husband. Negan's grins at you wickedly, winking, "She is a vampire bat."

Everyone is sobbing. Negan looks around the group frowning at the lack of response to his jape. "What... was the joke that bad?"

The leader of the group looks unhinged as he utters, "I'm gonna kill you..."

Negan struts over, enjoying that the game isn't over, getting in the leaders face, leaning down, "What, I didn't quiet catch that, your gonna have to speak up."

"Not today, not tomorrow but I'm gonna kill you."

Negan stares him down, baffled that it is going to take more to cow these people, "Jesus... Simon... What did he have a knife?"

Simon is standing directly behind Rick, "He had a hatchet.

Negan cocks his head to the side... "A hatchet?"

Simon clarifies, "An ax."

Negan laughs good naturedly, "Simon's my right hand man, having one of those is important, I mean what do you have left with out em. A whole lot of work? You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh... or did I... thunk," moving Lucille mischievously. 

When that doesn't get him the result he was looking for he sighs to Simon, "Sure, yeah, give me his ax." 

Simon complies while Negan and Rick have a stare down. You silently pray that their bone head leader stops with the pissing contest before he gets everyone killed. Negan clearly doesn't like what he sees. Standing abruptly, putting the ax in belt, grabbing Rick by the collar and dragging him to the RV. Announcing over his shoulder as he goes, "I'll be right back. Maybe Rick will be with me. And if not... Well... we can just turn all these people inside out. I mean.. the ones that are left..."

The door to the RV slams shut and shortly after the RV pulls out, spraying dirt.

You brace your hands on your knees staring at the ground, trying to regain your composure. Flash backs to your first meeting with Negan. Realizing now that he had actually let your group off easy, only killing Chris. Of course, your group hadn't actually killed any of his men or managed to steal anything.

Negan's men talk quietly amongst themselves. Red isn't holding your leash. Your relatively on your own next to the van. There's rustling in the woods behind you. Ignoring it. Probably one of the men going to take a piss. The hairs on the back of your neck raise when you hear a distinct childish giggle. Swallowing, scanning the trees. You don't see anything. Eyes on the trees, wondering if you're imagining things. Something moves quickly in the woods and you hear the giggling again. 

Edging backward, whispering shakily to yourself, "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real." 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you hear it again closer. Taking a deep breath, opening them to catching a brief glimpse of a small shadowy figure in the woods before it darts away into the dark.


This isn't happening. Not now. Frantically looking around. You need Pitt or Cam, hell, anyone from your old group... They would be able to help you. 

Only unfamiliar faces swim in your vision. Maggie wails again and you cover your ears wishing someone would make her stop. The smell of blood fills your nose. Vision blurring. Staggering a little to the side you notice someone laying in the dirt with a familiar shirt on. Covering your mouth in horror. NO. It cant be! Your husband is laying in the dirt, blue eyes peering up at you. Dropping to your knees next to him, grabbing his hand. You want to reach out and touch his face but you can't bare the thought of closing his eyes forever. You're shaking all over. How did he get here? Has he been alive this whole time? Squeezing his hand you feel his ring, the one you gave him when you promised to love him, till death. Sliding it from his finger. You thought it was gone forever. 

Your jerked back to reality by your leash. Simon in your face, whispering harshly, "What the fuck are you doing." 

You stare at him stupidly. Glancing back at your dead husband, but now someone else is laying in the dirt, head smashed in. Simon gruffly drags you by your leash away from the clearing toward the trucks before you can get a good look at who that was. Was that your husband? Or the husband of the lady who won't stop wailing. Is she screaming or is that in your head? Your shoved into the passenger side of Negan's truck before you can make sense of it. Simon glares at you, "Don't you fucking move from this spot. I told him it was a bad idea to bring you. He might think your tough shit but I knew you weren't ready."

Left alone in the truck, in the dark. At least the sounds of crying are muffled so you can think. Your head is pounding. Breathing ragged, like you have been running miles. Every nerve on high alert. Wondering what Simon is going to tell Negan when he gets back. Negan's not going to be happy and your already in trouble for drugging his guard. The ring still clutched in your hand. The metal feels hot, practically burning your hand. What the hell happened out there. You saw him. He was laying right there. 

You hear the sound of the RV approaching. Squinting as the head lights temporarily blind you. Panicking. If Negan sees you in the truck and thinks you tried to run, he'll kill Pitt for sure. Your heart rate accelerates. Ducking down onto the floor. Shoving the ring into your pocket. Cowering alone in the dark. Praying this night is over so you can go back to the Sanctuary and start making amends. You've been fighting a loosing battle. You should just give in totally. Stop thinking, stop fighting and just give yourself over to Negan. 


You head jerks up, ears pricking. Did you just hear that? Sliding back up into the seat. The people in the clearing are focusing on something you can't see. Negan's muffled voice drifting from that direction. Peering into the dark out of the other window... Is something moving? Is someone out there? Vision swimming with the shifting shadows. Fumbling with the door latch, cracking it softly. You hear the giggling again and the whisper of a song brushes your ear... ring around the rosie.... Shutting the door with a snap.

Shit shit shit. Their here. Not again. Not again.

Squeezing your eyes shut trying to concentrate on your breathing. In and out. In and out. You hear scratching on the glass. In and out. In and out. Soft pounding on the window, trying to get in. In and out. In and out. Covering your ears with your hands, rocking in your seat, voice shaking, "You're not real... You're not real... This isn't real...." 


Trembling, tears slipping down your face, "You're not real... You're not real... You're not real..." The giggling starts again.

You start chanting louder to drown them out.  "You're not real... You're not real... You're not real..." 

The cab light goes on, blinding you, truck lurching as someone gets in the drivers seat. The engine roaring to life. Finally gaining the courage to open your eyes as the truck starts bouncing down the dirt road. 


You giggle nervously, clapping a hand over your mouth, it sounds like the giggles from the woods.

He eyes you suspiciously. 

Slouching in your seat to regain your composure, staring out your window, fogged with condensation. 

Reaching out a finger to aimlessly draw on the glass, humming a tune. Stopping abruptly when you realize it was ring around the rosie. Failing to suppress another nervous giggle. 

"What the shit is wrong with you?"

Clearing your throat, nervously drawing again, only a slight tremor in your hand. "They say it was about the plague..."


"Ring around the rosie... people put posies in their pockets..."


"We would put clover in his..." 


Brushing a tear off your face, "We told him they were for luck... to protect him..." Sing song voice, "a pocket full of clover..."

Simon stares at you grimly. 

Shuddering, voice cracking, "It didn't work.... I should have been there. I should have protected him. I should have been the one..."

Sighing, "Look, it's not your fault. Whatever happened...."

Turning away from him, "You're right, there is no protection, we're all just marching to the gallows... to become one of them..."

Continuing your drawing, a childish hangman, gigging again as you lowly sing, "Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posies...." 

Simon's walkie crackles, "Si, you got my girl?"

"Yeah... you might want to have Carson on stand by. Dealin with a code green situation, here."

"Copy. What's your 20?"

"Maybe 10 minutes behind." The truck lurches forward as Simon pushes his foot all the way down. You know "code green" is about you. You don't know what it means, don't have the energy to care. Already getting punished for drugging someone and running out of the truck. Why not tack on a few more. Maybe if you miss behave enough he'll kill you... 

The truck hurtles through the gate. Dust obliterates the view of the factory. Simon jumps out with a curt, "Don't move."

Sitting alone, the only sound is of your ragged breathing.

The door next to you flies open and someone ruffly grabs you, dragging you out. Instinct kicks in, launching yourself backward, slamming the top of your head back and into the face of the man behind you. Hitting the ground, air knocked out of you. Crawling toward the truck, he grabs your ankle calling for out for help. Kicking him off, scrambling to the truck, grabbing the first thing you get your hands on, a crowbar. 

Turning sharply and swinging, he yells as the metal collides with his arm. Ducking back protecting his face so you swing aggressively at his ribs. He falls back and others start surrounding you. Screaming, spitting in rage and fear, swinging the crowbar wildly. "Fuck You, Mother Fuckers, I'll fucking kill you!" None of the men seem to want to commit to grabbing you while you're armed. More trucks are pulling into the yard, more men gathering around. You're not sure how long you'll be able to hold them back. 

Not that it matters. 

"Tess, you fucking drop that shit now or you know what happens next."

Negan's commanding voice cuts through your haze like a bucket of ice water. Immediately dropping the crowbar and to your knees. Cowering in front of him. 

"Tess... Look at me."

It takes several attempts to manage to look him in the eye. Once you do he glowers at you, stamping Lucille in the dirt in front of you. Cringing back, hanging your head in submission again. Whimpering, "Sorry Negan."


You whip your head toward Carson as he approaches carrying a syringe. 

Snatching up the crowbar, jumping to your feet, backing away nervously, "Stay away from me."

He pauses looking to Negan who nods his head to continue. 

Starting to panic. "No!" Tears forming in your eyes, begging, "Negan, please... I can be good. I'll be good. Don't do this."

Swinging at Carson. It's more than enough to get him to stop again, "Negan, if she doesn't hold still."

"I'll do it."

You blood freezes as Cam steps up behind Carson, calmly taking the syringe from him. Pitt materializes next to you, reaching for your arm.

Holding the crowbar up menacingly, pleading with him, "I don't want to hurt you."

He calmly grabs your wrist, removing the crowbar from your grasp, "You won't..." Pulling you toward him, back flush against his front, securing you. Arms you've trusted forever wrapped around you. Dooming you. 

"Don't, NO! What are you doing, Why are you doing this?" Pitt overpowers you, stretching one of your arms out in invitation to Cam. Cam grasps your wrist, squeezing it in warning when you trying jerking it back.

You meet Negan's eye. Smugly watching your closest friends betray you. 

Cam looks to Negan, waiting for his order. He nods and Cam inserts the needle, injecting you with a sedative.

Your knees go weak and Pitt wraps an arm around your waist, securing you to him, holding you upright.

Negan approaches and your head lulls back against Pitt's shoulder. He pets your head like you're an animal, "I know what's fucking best for you and right now that's sleep. We'll talk about your punishments later." Looking at Pitt, "Glad to see you made the right choice today. Take her to her room, make sure you use the fucking restraints."

Negan walks off and Pitt scoops you up, cradling your body to his chest. Cam falls in next to him while you're carried into the building. Negan is just inside the door talking to Dwight who has a man from the clearing in restraints. A hostage. Meeting his eyes briefly. Eyes full of rage and sorrow. 

You wish you could talk to him. So he could learn from your mistakes. Don't fight Negan. Just do what he wants. Whatever he wants. It's not worth fighting him. Words Sherry has told many times, Negan always wins, so let him. If you had only listened from the beginning. 

You feel like your floating in a dream. A weird haze fogs your mind. Wrapped in comforting arms, Pitt's familiar smell, sandalwood. Far away alarm signalling your brain that you're not safe. That you need to fight. Your arms and legs feel like lead. Too heavy to move.  

Cam's voice drifts from the void, "Need me to carry her?"

Arms tightening, growling back, "I got her." Is he humming your song? The vibrations from his chest soothing your soul.

Burrowing your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Trying to memorize the feeling of being secure. Knowing the only things waiting for you when you wake are pain, fear, loneliness. 

New voices filter in, higher, feminine, an edge of panic. The arms tighten again. Keeping you safe. Keeping them away. Into the dark. It's quiet. You're no longer floating. Something soft covers you and it's warm.

Angry hushed voices. Why are they angry? Should you be angry? Trying to fight back to consciousness.

Something cold on your wrist, "Sorry, baby." Words steeped in regret, "I had to." Warm hand cradling your cheek for an instant and it's gone.

Everything is gone.

Just the black.

Nothing bad happens in the black.   

Chapter Text

Waking with a jerk. Gasping for air. Praying the whole thing was a bad dream. 

Cold metal biting into skin causing you to hiss. 

Sherry pulls a wet washcloth away from your face. "Shhhhhhhhh" She soothes, "You're OK. You had to be sedated..."

Sitting up in the bed. Pulling on your restraints. 

She leans forward, "What happened?"

Squeezing your eyes shut, head pounding...

What happened? I drugged a guard... 
What happened? I got caught... 
What happened? I tried to run... 
What happened? I didn't make it... 
What happened? I watched a man die... 
What happened? I watched a family get destroyed... 
What happened? I saw my dead husband... 
What happened? I saw my dead son... 
What happened? They aren't real... 
What happened? I'm loosing my mind... 
What happened? The people I trusted betrayed me... 
What happened? I want to die... 

Taking a shuddering breath.

Nicole clears her throat in the doorway. "Sherry, we have to hurry..."

Sighing wearily Sherry slides the key into your cuffs, "We can talk later." 

Rubbing your wrists. Avoiding her eye. 

She walks to the door. "You need to shower and eat something. Negan called a town hall in an hour. There isn't much time."

Sagging, hearing the door close softly. Dragging yourself off the bed. 

Metal hits the floor when you pull off your clothes from the night before. Bending down and retrieving a ring. Rolling it around in your hand, stomach sinking. It's definitely a wedding ring. You had hoped that was part of your hallucination. Stealing a wedding ring off a pregnant woman's husband after she watched him get beaten to death...  

Jumping at banging on the door, muffled voice, "Tess... You need to take a shower, are you up? You're running out of time."

Rubbing a hand wearily down your face. "Fuck," Striding across the room, tossing the ring into nightstand drawer. You'll have to figure that shit out later.

Walking out of the room in a bra and panties, past Marie and Amber in the lounge and into the hall. A new guard is outside of Negan's office has a hostile gaze. Probably already warned about you. 

Going into the bathroom, stripping fully and stepping into the shower. Washing your hair, desperately wishing you could wash away all of your sins as easily as washing away blood and dirt.

Emerging, throwing on the clothes and shoes without comment. Another variation of another black dress with another set of black heels.

Nicole and Sherry share a disquieted look as they fix your hair and makeup. 

Trailing behind them toward the lounge. Simon is already waiting with your leash, escorting your group to the main floor. The furnace room, where Negan delivers his speeches and punishments. Wondering if you should be more concerned considering your night last night. At this point death would be welcome. 

The people of the sanctuary, milling around. Nervous energy pulsing with anticipation.

Looking across the way your breath hitches, taking an involuntary step back in fear, locking eyes with Pitt's intense stare. Simon grips your upper arm stopping you, tsking, "That's a no no princess, you stand right here next to daddy..." Swallowing nervously, stepping back into line.

Glancing back toward Pitt. Cam talking feverishly into his ear. Pitt's eyes locked on you, like a hound that caught the scent. Your blood turns to ice. Suffocating under his scrutiny. 


Lucille hitting the railing above breaks the spell, the room going silent. Everyone drops to their knees as Negan begins his tale of victory.

Cheers go up when he crows about bringing another settlement into the fold. Shouts of blood lust as he recalls paying them back for the murdering his men. Chanting his name when he declares a free round of drinks at the bar for everyone, even the lowliest of point earners. 

Their leader.

Their savior. 

Negan basks in the adoration and glory of his people. Arms spread wide embracing their worship. 

You can't drag your focus from Pitt and Cam during his speech. Their faces are blank masks. They drop to their knees, but don't cheer or chant with the others. When Negan dismisses the crowd, Pitt throws you one last searing look before shouldering his way out of the room Cam following grimly behind. Not stopping to talk or join in any form of camaraderie. 

Wishing you could run after them. Even after their betrayal. Still yearning for them.  For Pitt. Wishing it was as simple as slipping out your bedroom window, across the tree and into his room. Sliding in, over the sill, like a shadow. Tip toeing across his room, into his bed, covers already held aside, inviting you in. Curling into his chest, face pressed into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Falling asleep with his protective arms around you, promising to keep you safe. Always...


A sham...

A fairy-tale...   

Always never lasts.

Negan stomps down the metal stairs. Snapping his fingers impatiently at Dr Carson, who hands him something before scuttling off.

Beaming at your group, "Well don't ya'll make me feel like the fucking luckiest man alive." Petting your head, gripping you by the chin to force your eyes to meet his steely gaze, "Even you, although, truth be told, you haven't earned time out of your fucking cage just yet..." Thoughtfully rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, "Open."

Hesitating only briefly before opening your mouth slowly, Biting his lip grinning, "stick your tongue out, doll." 

"Mmmm, what a site. Now..." He drops two white pills onto your tongue, "Swallow."

You want to spit the pills out and run but that's a loosing battle. Closing your eyes so he can't see the tears forming, shutting your mouth and swallowing them dry, reminding yourself that Negan always gets what he wants. Feeling sick at the swell of happiness when he praises you, "Good girl." 

"Simon, my good man, would you be so kind as to escort my lovely wife up to her room. I'm not sure how fast those pills are gonna kick in but it would be awfully irresponsible of me to send her up unprotected while I accompany my other wives to the bar for a little soiree on this fine fucking evening." 

Simon, smoothing his mustache, "I think I might be able to manage that..." Looking up at his greasy stare, hairs on the back of your neck rising in fear.

Negan slaps him on the shoulder in appreciation, "My man!" Dipping himself back, swinging Lucille up onto his right shoulder and offering his left arm to Marie winking, "Ladies..." 

Watching in dread as he leads them out of the room. Leaving you alone with Simon.

Simon pulls a dented flask out of his shirt pocket, taking a swig and offering it to you grimacing. "It ain't the high quality shit Negan stashes in his room but it'll get the job done."

Gulping it down, coughing harshly. Liquor burning into your empty belly, reminding you, you haven't eaten in at least a day. 

Simon's hand on the small of your back startles you forward, "Well, let's get to it." He keeps a grip on your leash but allows you to walk ahead of him, setting the pace, up the stairs back to your room. Lamb being lead to slaughter. 

By the second flight your head is swimming. Gripping the banister as your trudge up the never ending stairs. Simon following close behind, steadying hand on your hip when you stumble onto the last landing. Sliding your hand along the wall to try and anchor yourself into reality as the floor pitches and rolls in front of your eyes. Wiping your hand on your sweaty brow when you finally make it to your room.

Standing still as a statue... waiting... frozen... Fear coiling in your belly. Is this real? Will you wake up tomorrow in bed, safe? An image of Pitt flashes across your mind again. Beckoning you to his warmth. Beckoning you to safety.

Knuckles of Simon's hand grazing lightly up the back of your arm, goosebumps erupting on your body. Sweeping your hair to the side, slowly unzipping the dress. Pushing the material off your shoulders to pool at your feet. Rough fingers knead your shoulders and upper back before unclasping your bra. It hits the floor with a soft thud. 

Stumbling into your dresser, desperately trying to hold on to the mirage of Pitt in your head. Willing it to be real. Head screaming to run, fight. Vision swaying.

"Shhhhh," soothing you, broad hand flat across your belly, pulling you against his chest. Mustache tickling your skin as he kisses your shoulder, wet flick of his tongue tasting your skin. "I'm just trying to help, darling, gotta get these shoes off." Kneeling in front of you, your hands blindly grasp his shoulders for support as he gropes your calf, raising your foot to remove first one shoe, than the other. Voice husky, "Isn't that better..." 

Your thoughts are clouded and confused. Trying to formulate an answer to his question, gasping when his mouth closes over a nipple. Twisting the other between calloused fingers. Your brain screaming while your body responds immediately. He continues licking and sucking while one hand roams, rubbing here, squeezing there. You wish you could just focus.  

Weakly pushing on his shoulders, "Simon... Simon, stop." Voice barely a whisper, shaking in fear. 

Large hand gripping your throat, squeezing lightly, growling into your ear, "I thought you liked being daddy's little whore..."   

Your heart stutters in your chest, vision going black. Fragments of nights you thought you forgot crashing into your mind. Looming figure in the dark. The need to comply. Float up to the ceiling where it all can be a dream. Happening to some other little girl. Crying, pathetically in her bed.

Jerked back to reality as he slides off your panties. "Let's see how wet daddy made you," groaning when his fingers graze your dripping folds. Your brain falling into a black hole of despair. Stomach churning. Feeling more of your soul slip away.  Choking out, "Please..."

He pulls his hand away, releasing his hold on you, letting you go, falling to your knees in shock. Shaking your head to make sense of what's happening. Hearing the sound of his belt buckle and zipper. Your vision is completely black, "Now... Be a good girl, and give daddy a little kiss."

Something warm and velvety brushes your lips leaving a salty trail. Licking your lips, blindly reaching out. When you feel the head of his cock bump your lips again you give it a kiss. Licking until he slides it into your mouth with a throaty groan. At first he's content to let you you bob your head back and forth, stroking a free hand down the shaft before growing impatient. Gripping you by the hair and ramming his dick into your throat over and over. Deep throating you savagely until you lungs are screaming for air. Saliva dripping down your chin and tears streaming down your face. With one final thrust he unloads down your throat, grunting. 

Pulling himself out. Stuffing himself back into his pants. You blindly wipe your face and chin a scrap of fabric off the floor. Large hand pulling you gruffly by the upper arm. Shoving a shirt over your head. Your head spinning as he pushes you onto the bed. Terror floods your system, backing up quickly to the headboard.... No, no, no... not this too. Never this too... Daddy said you had to save yourself... no. No. NO. Breath coming out panicked whimpers. 

"Calm down, Jesus..." 

Metal clamps on your wrist. Bringing a strange calm. 

"Shit, you weren't half bad, wonder what you could do if you were in the right frame of mind..." Jabbing a finger into your temple. "Might just keep you around after all when... ya know..." chuckling darkly to himself. 

Gazing blurry up at him. 

Wiping his hand down his face, pulling out the flask, taking a swig, "Times, they are a-changin..."

Shoving the flask into your face, forcing you to swallow a large mouthful. "Let's just keep this between us, he'd never believe you anyway..." Whistling softly, snapping off the light and walking out the door. 

Crumpling in on yourself shaking. Tears silently sliding down your face. If you had only followed the rules you wouldn't be in this position. If you had just kept your shit together you would be at the bar celebrating with everyone else. No one would ever believe what happened and if they did you would be to blame. Closing your eyes, rhythmically thumping your head against the headboard... You need control. Pulling on the handcuff so the metal bites into the skin, focus on the pain, get control. Pulling again, blood trickling down your wrist. Curling your body around your pillow.

Think of a safe place. Just make it to morning. You'll be ok. It'll be better in the morning. 

Darkness pulling on your mind. 

Imagining a window. Dark and inviting. Crawling inside. Hearing your own personal lullaby. Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away... Faith has been broken tears must be cried... Let's do some living after we die...  


A pounding headache wakes you. Dry blood crusted onto your wrists. Huddling up against the headboard rocking slightly, starring at nothing until Sherry comes to release you. 

"Are you ok? Have... Have you been crying?" 

Rubbing your raw chafed wrists.

"Tess, look at me." 

Jerking your head away from her hand when she tries to push hair out of your face. "I'm fine..." Gripping her wrist till she winces. 

Concern darkens her face but she nods pulling her arm away. "Negan wants to see you... You should get cleaned up."


What fresh hell will you have to endure today... because of Negan...

Getting up from the bed, grabbing your discarded panties off the floor and pulling them on. Sherry eyes you suspiciously. "Were you able to change into that yourself last night? Why weren't you wearing any underwear?" 

Ignoring her, wiping at the mascara that ran down your face. Carding your hands roughly through your hair to tame it. 

She grabs your arm, spinning you toward her, "Tess. What happened last night."

For a second you want to tell her everything. The worry on her face is intoxicating. The overwhelming pull to have a friend again. Someone who could help you. A confidant. But she's just as trapped as you are. And trusting her would be a mistake. Biting your lip hard to stop it from trembling. Avoiding her eye, "I just need some aspirin...." 

Sighing to herself, "Yeah... I have some in my room, come on."

Following her, glancing around her room while she paws through a drawer, pulling out a bottle and shaking some pills into her hand. A strap of a bag is showing under her bed. Pulling on the strap with your bare foot to get a better look, it's your bag. The bag you had packed to run. Sherry must have taken it and stashed it in her room. No wonder Fat Joey didn't find it. Pushing the strap back under the bed. Sherry has been watching you silently. Glancing meaningfully at her bed, "If you ever want to talk, I'm here."  

Taking the aspirin from her hand and tossing them back. Considering. 

Amber interrupts, "Simon's here, to take Tess to Negan."

Closing your eyes to steel yourself. Walking out of Sherry's room without a backward glance. 

Simon is waiting with a jovial smile. "There she is. Sleep well?" He leads you out of the lounge on your leash to Negan's office. 

Negan is sitting at his massive desk addressing Cam and Pitt. The sight of them sends your stomach rolling. A map laid out on the desk as Negan details which outposts they will be making stops at. Already making good use of the stockpile of supplies at the warehouse. 

Simon slouches into the chair nearest you, loosely holding your leash while you remain standing awkwardly.

"I expect you boys back within 4 days. There shouldn't be any delays since you won't be bringing any distractions with you this time." Your head bows slightly at his words. "And Pitt..." Your ears perk up. Just hearing his name sends a tingle down your spine. "Thanks for that fucking nugget of intel, It shows me that the loyalty you showed wasn't a one off. I like that shit. Loyalty is what's gonna get you fuckin places here. I'll take what you said into consideration. Don't go worrying your pretty fucking head about punishments..." A strained pause follows, "Now get the fuck out and get to work."   

Cringing in on yourself, eyes trained on the floor as they brush by without acknowledging your existence. Cam murmuring offhandedly to Pitt, "Let's run to the library real quick before we head out, there was a Richard Bachman book I wanted to check out..." The click of the door behind them throws the room into silence. 

Your heartbeat starts picking up pace, eyes downcast submissive. Silence stretching on to an unbearable point.  

"Simon... Do you recall my wife kneeling when she entered this office?"

"Can't say that I do boss."


Dropping weakly to your knees. Still refusing to look him in the eye. Fidgeting with the hem of the t-shirt. 

Both men stand, walking toward the door. Negan talking too lowly for you to hear. The door clicks shut, boots thumping across the floor, leather of the chair creaking as Negan sits with a groan. Pulling a log toward him and jotting a few notes.  

Knees going numb and legs aching. Biting your bottom lip hard to regain focus. 

Negan twists his chair toward you, legs splayed wide. "Up."

Standing on shaky legs. Obediently walking to Negan when he crooks two fingers, beckoning you toward him. He sits regarding you coolly. You want to squirm. You want to beg. You want to scream. You want to cry. 

"Take the shirt off."

Pulling the hem up and over your head without hesitation. Standing silently. Waiting his next order. 

"All of it..."

Swallowing nervously, shedding your panties. Standing, fully exposed while Negan stares at you in contemplation. Startling you back when he stands abruptly, snatching your wrist. Face hardening when he sees the dried blood caked around where the cuffs bit into your skin. Grabbing your jaw forcing your head up and back so he can look at your throat. Circling your body like a predator, looking at every scrape and bruise.

Thoughts spinning frantically. Can he tell another man touched you. What would he do if he knew about Simon. Would he even believe you? 

The door opens, Simon ushers in Dr. Carson holding a small black bag.

"Sit on my desk, the doctor is gonna have a look at you." Flinching back when he gripes your chin firmly, "I expect you to fully fucking cooperate. Understand?" Nodding mutely, "Then we're gonna have a fucking chat..." Nodding again. He releases you with a curt, "sit."

Dr Carson approaches and it takes everything in you to resist the urge to deliver a palm heel strike to his throat. After inspecting each wrist he removes some antiseptic ointment and gauze from his bag to treat your wounds for possible infection. Followed by performing the normal tests: shinning a light into each eye, blood pressure, heart rate... 

"Well? Fucking say something..." Negan fumes. 

Removing the stethoscope from his ears, pushing his glasses more firmly up the bridge of his nose. "There are abrasions on her wrists from the restraints you have been using.The bandages will help with that. They should be changed daily to prevent infection. Her pupils are dilated along with high blood pressure and an elevated heart rate. From her physical signs she is still under a great deal of stress. After seeing her last night and Simon's description of her behavior in the truck I think it's safe to assume she was suffering from an episode of psychosis. It's difficult to determine when the episode started... If it was triggered by the events in the woods or before hand resulting in her drugging a guard while suffering from some type of hallucination..."


"Meaning she should still be considered a very real danger to herself... and others..."

Negan runs a large hand down his face in frustration. "And what the fuck do you think we should do about that doc..."

Dr Carson clears his throat uncomfortably, "Well... She could be placed in a hospital bed for a few days where I could keep her sedated and pliant, I'm not an expert at psychotherapy but I could try to determine what set off her episode or there is very good chance it will happen again. Next time she might not just drug a guard. She could attack someone, including one of your wives... She should be kept under constant surveillance in the very least."

Heart rate increasing with every one of his suggestions. Eyes darting around the room, looking for escape.

Sensing your distress Negan steps in front of you, jerking your leash to get your attention. 

Locking eyes with him.

"You hear that, doll? The Doc wants to lock you up... like an animal... Run some fucking tests on you... You think that's what we should do?"

Shaking your head in fear, tears starting to trickle down your face, "No... no, Negan, please!" Reaching out the grip his shirt, tugging him closer, "please..."

Without breaking eye contact with you, "Leave us..."

Door shutting with a distant click. 

Panting in distress as his eyes bore into your soul. His hand gripping your throat, calloused thumb brushing over your jaw, pulling his hand down to caress your shoulder, your rib cage, your leg, stepping between your thighs leaning his forehead into yours while his hands continue to roam. "What should I do with you... hmmmm? Send you to the doctor? So he can run his little tests on you. Let him crawl around inside your brain? A little bird just spilled the beans on what caused your fragile as fuck mind to snap? But hell, who knows what else the good doctor might find spinning around in there... I could chain you to your bed? Have you guarded day and night? Can't treat you like a normal wife who's been breaking the rules... Nope. You've made that shit clear. Maybe I'll get rid of you a different way. You can be a gift. Maybe gift you to Simon... He can be a little rough. Most girls can't handle him but you... I think you would do nicely... I know how much you enjoy pain mixed with your pleasure... What do you think of that kitten? Should you be a gift?"

Your body recoils at the thought. Shaking in terror, mind screaming at you to fix this. Fix it now. Make him forgive you.

Pulling him closer, attempting to nip his lip, shoulder, jaw. He blocks your every attempt at trying to steer his focus toward desire even while continuing to paw at your body.

His anger surges, pinning you to the desk by your throat, looming over you, "No, not this time. This time you have to show me you understand. I can take every-fucking-thing from you... Shit, you don't even know if I sent your friends into an ambush. You might not ever see them again... Because I have the power to do that." You're quaking in fear as he's snarling in your face, "I can wreck you. I own you. And it's time you learned to respect my rules..."

A knock at the door distracts him. Nicole and Marie clad in almost nothing slip through the door. "Simon said you might need to blow off some steam..." The girls start caressing each other, wet sloppy sounds of their kissing intermixed with soft moans.

Negan glares at you with coal black eyes burning with fury. Pushing you forcefully off his desk to the floor, spitting at you "Get the fuck out." 

Hugging the t-shirt to your chest, scurrying out of the room past the girls. Swallowing your sobs as you rush to the bathroom. Heaving bile into the toilet. Negan's rejection sending you into a hole of despair. Without him you'll have nothing left. He can take everything from you. No protection. What punishment he will choose. Dr Carson for tests. A gift for Simon. Flashbacks of confused memories, Simon standing over you, forcing himself down your throat mixing with images of your father. Sending another wave of nausea over you.  

Feeling disgusting and used. Crawling to the shower. Turning the spray on, set to the coldest temp. Sliding down the wall to sit hunched on the floor. The icy water cascading all around, soaked hair forming a curtain, hands clenched behind your head, trying to focus on the hiss of the water. Rocking back and forth. You need to get yourself together. You know there is a way out of this. There has to be. 

You've been under the spray so long your hands and feet are pruney. Body numb from the cold. A shivering mess. Racing thoughts. Still no closer to a solution. 

Loud voices in the hall. Someone walks in, shutting off the water. Pulling you to your feet.

In a haze. Gripping the towel someone shoves into your hands. Wrapping it around yourself and shuffling out of the bathroom through the lounge, into your room. Sitting in the upholstered chair.  Knees drawn up. Hair dripping. Staring vacantly across the room. 

You're missing something. Something important. You know it. Something that would help you. Niggling at the back of your mind. If only you could focus.

You've been in the chair for hours. Hair dried and matted. Still huddled up in only a towel. Turning your head slowly when the door cracks open. Blinking into the dim light.

No one there. 

Heart picking up pace.

Not again.

Squeezing your eyes shut.

Please don't let them find you here. 

Starting to rock gently back and forth.

Whispering, "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real." 

Jerking when a hand grasps your shoulder. Letting out a puff of breath, realizing it's Sherry, offering you some pills and a glass of water. "Are you OK?"

Lips numb with fear. "I thought you were someone else..." Hesitant to take the pills. Who knows whats in them.  


Dully, "No one you know..."  

She frowns as you reach for the pills with a shaking hand.  Throwing them in your mouth, washing them down with, what turns out to be, vodka. 

"Who would be up here that I wouldn't know?"

Sliding off the chair, rummaging around in a drawer to pull out some boy shorts and a tank to sleep in. 

Sherry grips your shoulder so you face her, "Who, Tess? Who could get up here? Past the guards?"

Giggling a little, looking around the room while backing up toward the bed, "Shhhhhhh, if you talk about them, they'll find me..." Climbing into bed, under the covers, attaching the cuff to your own wrist. Jerking them to make sure they are secure. 

"Tess, you don't have to. I wasn't going to..."

Cutting her off... "I do. I have to. I'm not safe..."

"What do you mean your not safe?"

Speech slurring, "Safer... protect you..."

The drugs are taking effect. The world taking on a dreamlike haze. Laying your head back on the pillow, mumbling to yourself, wishing you could explain what you mean. To make her understand. The words in your mind confused and jumbled, loosing focus. An old poem stuck in your brain. Chasing itself in circles. Sherry bending closer to hear you mumbling to yourself. "Yesterday, upon the stair, I met a man who wasn't there... He wasn't there again today, oh how I wish he'd go away..."


Grumbling, "I'm fine... I'll sleep... They go away when I sleep..."

"I'm getting Negan..."

"The dreams make them real..." 

A door closes in the distance, voices down the corridor.

Don't know what they are saying.

Don't care. 

Alone. In a Forrest. Twilight. Breathing in the deep woody scent. Pine needles under your bare feet, biting into your skin. You can hear them in the distance. "Ready or not here I come... Marco!" Childish voice returning "Polo..." Chasing after them. Heart light as you follow the voices through the woods. Searching for them. Letting them call you home...  


Chapter Text

Waking to harsh lights in your face. Rhythmic beeping off to your side. Struggling to sit up. Wrists and ankles cuffed down, a band across your stomach. A needle in your arm, IV bag dripping methodically. 

A curtain slides to the side revealing Dr Carson. Seeing you awake, walking to the door and speaking lowly to someone outside the room before coming back. Wiping a hand across your brow, "How are you feeling, Tess? Better?"

Eyes roving frantically, pulling aggressively on your restraints, "Why am I here?"

"Shhhhhh, shhhhhhh. If you keep acting that way I'll have to put you under again..."

His words have an immediate response. Like a bucket of ice water dumped over your head.  

"There, that's better. Is there anything you would like to tell me about your latest... incident..."

Glaring at him, "There's nothing to talk about..."

Holding your head steady, shinning a light into your eyes, "I feel obligated to inform you that mixing sleeping pills with alcohol is considered extremely dangerous... " Frowning as he take stock of the rest of your vitals. Making notes on a clip board. 

The curtain is pulled aside again before you can answer. "Negan sent me for Tess..." 

Raul, one of the men who's frequently a roaming guard on Negan's floor waits patiently holding a small bundle of clothes as Dr Carson finishes making notes. Handing a sheet of paper to Raul before turning to release your restraints, pulling the IV out of your arm. 

Discarding the hospital gown, quickly pulling on black panties and black t-shirt that Raul brought. Noticing with dread it isn't the black dress that signifies your "station". 

Rubbing your wrists, following Raul out of the hospital ward. He snorts, reading the note from Dr Carson. "Says here you shouldn't be released from medical. Wanted to run tests on you."

Grumbling, stomping up the stairs, "Fucking asshole..."

Raul smirks at you amused, "Probably just enjoyed havin a hot chick strapped to a bed..."

Stopping in your tracks to give him a baleful look. Raul raises his hands to show no harm, "I'm just sayin, I'd rather look at you strapped to a bed any day of the week over most of the sacks of shit 'round here."

Rolling your eyes walking down the hall towards Negan's office. 

"Whoa, where you goin?" Raul stops you short, jerking his head toward the lounge, "He wants you in here..." 

Backtracking into the lounge. Almost running into servers clearing away lunch items. Your stomach gives an audible growl. 

Raul puts a hand on your shoulder addressing the room, "You ladies save anythin for Tess?"

Marie responds in a bored tone, "Why would we? Negan dragged her ass out of here last night, completely deranged... We didn't know if she'd even be back." Leveling a hard gaze at you, "ever."

His large warm hands squeeze your shoulders, "Alright, shit, just hold tight, I'll go get you somethin from the kitchens."

Slumping in a chair at the table watching him walk with purpose out of the room, wondering why he even gives a shit if you're hungry. Holding your head in your hands while you wait, headache throbbing. Sensing four pairs of eyes gawking at you from across the room. Rage bubbling up inside of you.

It's Sherry's fault you even got carted away last night. Feeding you pills and alcohol. Then getting Negan instead of letting you sleep it off. Fisting your hair while extending the middle finger on each hand as a salute to the other wives. Fucking bitches.

"Ladies," Negan's booming voice snaps you upright. Your body responding automatically. Falling to your knees in submission. He takes his time greeting each wife with a kiss. Till his dark gaze lands on you. Averting your eyes from him, cowering in submission. His form towers above you. Rage practically rolling off him in waves.

Raul unwittingly breaks the tension, arriving back in the room carrying a bowl of oatmeal. Negan exchanges words with him, the note from Dr Carson dutifully handed over. Negan clapping him on the shoulder with a curt, "You know what to do..." walking out of the room without a second glance. 

Deflating. He had barely acknowledged you. The rejection stinging more than you care to admit. Tendrils of fear creeping up your spine. 

Crawling back up into the chair at the table. Not meeting Raul's eye when he slides the bowl of oatmeal toward you. Taking the spoon, aimlessly pushing the mush around the bowl with a shaking hand. 

Shit. Shit. Shit.
What are you going to do?
He hardly even looked at you.
You really fucked up this time. 
What if he decides to caste you aside, to Simon.  

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Raul knocking on the table distracts you from your whirling thoughts. "You need to eat. Can't have you passin out from hunger. Negan'll have my balls if somethin happens to you on my watch."  

Nodding your head mutely, shoveling a bite of food in. Swallowing thickly. 

The wives leave the room in a chattering mass while you finish your food. When your done Raul takes the bowl. Returning with a glass of water and two white pills. 

"What are those?"

He sits across from you, brow furrowed for a moment before responding. "You must have a massive hangover from that shit last night. I'm not supposed to give you anythin but I'm not a fuckin sadist. I won't tell if you won't." Winking at you mischievously, "Our little secret."

Hairs on the back of your neck rise. Something isn't right. He's flippantly disobeying orders. Negan must trust him or he wouldn't have been placed on this floor. There's a reason he's your guard.

"What's in it for you?"

"Damn," leaning back in his chair, "They told me you were tough." Tan face splitting into a wide grin, "Look, let me level with you. Straight up. Negan has me guardin your ass. He might have sprung you from medical against Dr Creeps recommendation, but he sure as shit don't trust you yet. So we're gonna be spendin some time together. Figured if I got on your good side you won't try and murder my ass. All sorts of crazy rumors runnin around here about you. If even half of them are true... Shit... I'd be fuckin crazy to get on your bad side." 

Squinting at him shrewdly, "You know, the last guy who helped me against Negan's orders got thrown in the hole..." Tossing the pills in your mouth, chugging the water.

Shrugging his shoulders good naturedly, "Guess we better not tell him..."

The day passes slowly. Raul seems content to watch you pace the lounge. His friendly attitude grating on your nerves. There has to be more to the story there. His presence only making you miss Pitt and Cam. Praying Negan didn't send them into an ambush like he threatened. Reasoning he would want to keep them around for leverage over you. 

The wives come back for dinner. Plates brought in by the kitchen staff. Each wife has roasted chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy and salad. Your plate has some kind of indistinguishable canned meat. Scarfing it down regardless. Dog food is better than no food. You've eaten worse. 

After the meal Raul stations himself in a corner where he can unobtrusively keep watch. 

Cracking your neck before sitting on a bar stool. Back to the room. Knowing Raul's eyes are on you, making your skin crawl. 

Drumming your knuckles on the wood of the bar. What game is Negan playing. The thought of him gifting you to Simon terrifies you. Would Negan go through with it? He doesn't like to share. So there must be some other motive behind this punishment. Contained to the floor, having you watched, revoking clothes, food...    

Sherry saunters over to the bar to pour drinks for everyone. Nonchalantly sliding a shot of amber liquid your way. You down it quickly, grimacing. Noticing the glass swiftly disappears before she walks off with the drinks. Never saying a word to you. Not that it matters much. She wouldn't be able to help you anyway. 


Meeting his eye, Negan glares menacingly at you until you drop to your knees. Biting your bottom lip. Trying to control the panic threatening to overwhelm you. He stomps around the room, greeting each wife before tugging Amber to his side. "Raul, it's Tess's bedtime." Pulling Amber down the hall toward her room.   

Standing on shaking legs. Avoiding eye contact with the other wives. Raul grips you upper arm walking you down the hall. You're heart rate starts increasing. Flashbacks of the last man who escorted you to your room on Negan's behalf. Trying to calm down. Negan is right next door. If you scream he would help. Rape isn't allowed. It's cold comfort knowing it didn't stop Simon. But it should be enough to stop Raul. 

The door opens to a dark room. Your feet frozen, not wanting to cross the threshold.

What if Raul attacks you?
What if Negan doesn't come?
What if Negan doesn't care?

Swallowing the lump in your throat. 

"You alright?"

Blinking. Focusing on Raul. Concerned eyes peering back.

Dark eyes...

Like Pitt's eyes... 

Clearing your throat, "I'm fine..." Shaking him off your arm to walk confidently into the room. "Just letting my eyes adjust." Refusing to show fear and give Raul an advantage. An advantage he would surely pass along to Negan. Another weakness for him to exploit.

Getting into bed holding out your wrists for the restraints. Goading him, "Don't tell me this is the first time you ever tied a girl up."     

Raul rubs the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. Tentatively attaching the cuffs. "Look, I mean, I don't know the whole situation but, this seems a little extreme... Even for him. This shit's been cutting up your wrists." Rubbing his thumb gently along your wrist. "Maybe I can talk him into a lock on the outside of the door instead..." 

Cutting him off, "Don't bother. It's a punishment, it's not meant to be easy."

Giving you a small smile tinged with sadness. "Alright. See you tomorrow..." Stopping at the door, his form thrown into silhouette. "Tess, you can trust me. I want you to know that." Door softly shutting behind him. 

Snorting in the darkness. You would have to be stupid to consider Raul a friend. As if Negan didn't hand pick one of his most trusted men. Raul is working double time to get you to like him. There must be a reason for that. You'll have to be vigilant to not fall into whatever trap Negan is setting. 

All thoughts interrupted by the wanton sounds of moaning mixed with the thudding of a headboard hitting your wall. Negan sending the signal loud and clear.

You're disposable.

You need to figure out a way to fix this and fast.  


The next three days are the same.

Negan never asks to see you. When he does visit the wives lounge he stomps through, never acknowledging that you're cowering on your knees. Never acknowledging you at all. You no longer exist to him.





You thought his indifference would be a relief. Instead it's sending you into a tailspin. 

Greeting his wives. Lavishing them with his attention and affection. Always being sure to screw them in their own rooms. So you can hear every squeak of a mattress. Every Moan of desire.  So you can hear.



He doesn't even bother to ask Raul for reports on you. 

You do not exist. 

Not to him...

Or the wives. 

You didn't think that would bother you either. Why would it? The catty spoiled bitches you got thrown in with... But it does. You have nothing left. Nothing but the anguish of knowing that if you don't think of something soon to fix this shit, Negan is going to toss you aside...

To Simon. 

To the man who forced himself on you in a way you vowed would never happen again.

Yet here you are...


And with no one to run to this time. No one to protect you. 

Raul has become your constant shadow. A poor replacement of the person you're really yearning for. And you know damn well you can't trust him.

Days have become soul crushing. 

You're allowed to eat meals with the wives but it's always inedible sludge. Usually placed in front of you by a very pleased Laura, who is sure to remind you what a low life piece of shit you are. Sometimes she spits in your food for good measure. 

Once the wives leave you usually spend the day pacing the room like an animal. Chewing your nails to stumps. Pressing your face against the windows trying to decipher any information from movement below. The windows don't open. You struggle in vain everyday. Frantically trying for just one whiff of fresh air, to clear your head. The room is claustrophobic. Stale air suffocating you. 

The only physical human contact you have everyday is after lunch when Raul changes your bandages. Gently removing the old gauze, methodically dabbing ointment onto each wrist before wrapping them with care again. He holds your hands just a beat too long after he finishes. His large warm hands engulfing yours.

You always pull your hands away. Each day it seems harder. Letting him cradled your hands longer. Yearning for the physical touch. Playing with fire. 

At night, dutifully choking down dinner before hunkering at the bar, back to the room. So you don't have to witness the wives looks of scorn. Trying desperately to hold yourself together. Show no weakness. Just a little longer. Just until Negan arrives to make his pick. Raul's signal to bring you to your room, cuff you to the bed, so you can listen.

It's become the best and worse part of your day.

Finally alone to let the mask slip. Finally allowing tears, stored up from the day, to slide down your face. Finally able to pull the cuff tight onto your cut up wrists. Helping take the edge off your emotions. Physical pain. Always a welcome friend. Now your only friend. Always there to pull you back from the edge. Back to control.

Unfortunately it also means hearing Negan and whichever wife he picked in their throes of passion. Letting you know you have been forgotten. Only a matter of time before he makes it official. Like a death knell. 


The fourth day starts the same but the atmosphere has shifted. Your skin feels too tight, making you jumpy. Something is wrong. 

The wives even more dissent than normal. They don't return for lunch. Hell. Lunch isn't even served.

Raul is acting strange. His normal easy going swagger is stilted. Not meeting your eye.

Panic setting in. Feeling like you're standing on a tightrope, thirty stories up. Something is coming and you don't know what. Whatever it is will determine your fate. Your life balanced on the tip of a knife. Which way will it fall. 

When it's time for dinner the wives strut in. Dressed to the perfection. Meaning only one thing.

The weekly wives dinner.

And you aren't going. 

Sherry goes to the bar to fix everyone pre-dinner cocktails. For everyone... but you.

Avoiding your eye when you slide onto a bar stool. The others flock around the bar so she can hand them their drinks, Marie shouldering into you aggressively so you'll move.

Sliding off the stool in defeat, you perch on the window sill. Pretending to look out into the coming darkness but watching the rooms reflection instead. Raul standing by the door, eyes on the ground, shoulders rounded, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. 

Simon comes as usual to escort the wives to the meal. Seeing his knowing smirk in the reflection makes bile rise up your throat. 

Shortly after they leave a server arrives with food for you and Raul. A hearty stew and bread for him, a bowl of grey gruel for you. You've been choking down this shit for days as a way to prove to Negan you can follow his rules. Now that his intentions are clear... You. Just. Can't. Do. It.

Biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from showing emotion. Maybe you can go to bed early tonight. They'll be going to the bar after dinner so it will be hours before Negan would be back to screw whichever wife caught his eye. There's no point in Raul wasting his night guarding you. Absentmindedly scratching at your wrists.  

"This is some bullshit." Blinking in surprise when a half eaten bowl of stew slides in front of you. "Eat. Can't sit here eatin when all you got is that."

The offer hangs in the air. Your hand automatically starts toward the spoon before you snatch it back glancing nervously at the door. Expecting to see Negan standing there. Biting your lower lip and shaking your head, sliding the bowl back to Raul. 

He sighs in defeat. "Alright look. How about this. I know you been trying to get those windows open. How 'bout I do you one better. You wanna go outside?"

Confused, "I'm not allowed off this floor."

"I'm not talkin about taken you off the floor. I'm talkin 'bout you gettin some fresh air."


"You're gonna have to trust me..." Winking. Standing from the table, grabbing your arm pulling you toward the lounge doors. Pausing once he reaches them to glance down the hall for guards, looking back at you. "So... Whaddaya say? You gonna trust me?" 

Not even answering before he's pulling you through the door and toward Negan's office. Alarmed, digging your heels in, doing nothing to stop Raul's trajectory. He halts in the hall outside Negan's office but opens a door on the other side of the hall. One you never noticed. 

Opening your mouth to ask where the fuck he's taking you, he jerks you inside and starts pulling you up a short staircase and through a door at the top. Gasping in surprise. You're on the roof. The tallest roof of the whole factory.

Glorious cool night air fills your lungs and a breeze ruffles your hair.  The air is crisp and doesn't stink of decay. Tears come to your eyes as you stare around in wonder. You're outside. Finally. But not, technically, breaking any rules. Covering your mouth when a giggle escapes. 

Raul is standing, looking over the wall into the night. He turns back to you. "So, whaddaya think? You like it?"

Walking up beside him, hugging him. "Thank you." Releasing him to just stare out into the distance. Into the night sky at the stars. Basking in the cool night air and the sudden surge of freedom you feel. Even if you are stuck on a roof. You haven't felt this free in ages. 

Gently squeezing your shoulders before walking off to another part of the roof. Leaving you alone to gaze into the night. 

Too soon Raul decides it's time to head in. Promising to try and sneak you back out again tomorrow.

Your finally able to drift off to sleep peacefully for the first time in weeks. Thoughts of the starry night sky filling your head. Feeling like a weight has been lifted. Maybe Raul is a friend you can trust after all. 


After last nights adventure your much more composed. Still anxious that today will be the day Negan kicks you to the curb. 

Negan makes his usual entrance in the morning. Ignoring you entirely. Giving Raul a friendly slap to the shoulder when he leaves. Clearly having no idea Raul bent the rules.

The wives leave the room soon after. Chattering loudly about the night before. 

Perched on the window sill watching trucks pull out. Scanning the landscape for signs of dust signalling an approaching vehicle. Everyday you have noticed the same number of trucks leaving and returning. It's been five days since Negan sent Pitt and Cam out. Negan said they should only be gone four. They should have been back by now... Unless they ran into trouble... Unless...

"Wanna get some fresh air?" Raul startles you out of your thoughts. Right behind you. Too close for comfort. You didn't even hear him approach. 

"What about the guard?"

Raul gives you a sly grin. "Me and Levi go way back. He's my boy."

Feeling uneasy about another guard knowing about Raul's loop hole. He signals for you to stay put before casually walking down the hall to shoot the shit with his friend. After a few minutes Raul comes back to escort you to the door that leads to the roof. Levi gives a wink, "You got an hour."

Raul returns a relaxed salute, ushering you through the door with a hand on the small of your back. 

The feeling of freedom sweeps through you when the cool wind hits you. Walking to the edge of the wall to gaze out at the landscape. Closing your eyes, turning your face toward the sun to feel it's rays beating down. 

Raul steps up beside you, leaning against the wall, placing a hand on your hip. Taking a slight step to the side to break off his contact. The intimacy putting you on edge. 

He raises his hands to show he meant no harm. "Sorry, I um... I've been want'n to talk to you about somethin. I didn't wanna do it in there cause, you know how it is. Some brown noser is always listenin." Rubbing his neck hesitantly. 

"What." Wondering what he could possibly have to say that he needs to sneak you onto the roof and away from prying ears.

"Your friends, Cam and Pitt..."

Immediately your guard is up. Heart rate accelerating. 

"They came to see me last night. 'Bout a proposition." 

Mouth going dry. Instantly on edge. Glancing around the roof for possible escapes. You see the door and a drain pipe. He's between you and the door. But you might be able to reposition yourself. Climbing down the side of buildings isn't your favorite but if push comes to shove you'll do it. Taking a step away from the wall and slightly to the side, trying to act natural while getting closer to the door. "What proposition."

"They wanna bust you outta here. Got some supplies and a safe house all lined up."

Heart beating so fast you think it's gonna pound out of your chest. "Why would they tell you that?"

He seems more confident, eagerly continuing, "They heard the rumor I've been watchin ya. Asked if I'd be willin to help..."

Skeptically, "And you're cool with that? Betraying Negan... If he found out... I don't even know what he would do." 

Grabbing your hands, earnestly, "Look, I know it sounds crazy. But the way he's treatin you. It ain't right. I've been thinkin of makin a change myself. Thought I might come with ya. They were ok with that."

"Wow..." Squeezing the bridge of your nose while pacing a few steps away, as if deeply considering his news. There is no doubt in your mind this is a set up. Pitt and Cam would never pass you a message like this.

Stomach twisting in nausea. This has been the game all along? Getting you to trust Raul so that he can pitch you a fabricated story, giving Negan a clear motive to toss you to Simon.

Or worse.

A reason to execute Pitt and Cam.

Blowing out a puff of air. You need to be very careful how you respond. "Fuck. I don't know what to say..."

Raul straightening up, stepping towards you. "Just say yes and we can put this thing into motion. Put all this shit behind you." Brushing hair aside and squeezing your shoulder. "You can trust me. Let me help you... and then maybe you can help me... Know what I'm sayin..." 

Stomach dropping as he gently cups your face, moving in for a kiss. Placing your hands on his waist, moving closer, kneeing him in the groin shouting, "I belong to Negan!" Pushing him to the ground when he doubles over. Adding a kick to his stomach before turning to run toward the door. He catches your foot and you land hard on your shoulder. Twisting around to kick him away when he tries to get a better grip on the ankle he's clinging to. Panic is setting in. Grappling with someone Raul's size will be a loosing battle for you. He's managed to balance on the balls of his feet, ready to tackle you fully when you land a heel strike to his nose. He falls back with a cry. Twisting to your stomach and sprinting to the door. You hear him charging, bellowing in rage just as you slip through the door into the stair well. Taking the stairs two at a time, practically falling down the last three. Raul slams through the top door just as you're crashing through the bottom. Barreling directly into Simon. 

Simon grips your arm preventing you from bolting to the lounge. "Hey now. Where do you think your running off too?" Trying to jerk your arm out of his grip, frantic to get away before Raul busts through the door. 

The door behind you slams open so hard it ricochets off the wall. "I'm gonna shred that bitch! Where is she?" You cower behind Simon, gratified to see Raul shrink back when he gets an eyeful of who your with. 

"Now, now... No need for that. Negan sent me for her." 

"Make sure you tell him how she was begging for my dick like a little slut."

Enraged at his implication, "You lying sack of shit! I'll fucking kill you!" Simon holds you back from lunging at Raul to scratch his face.

Simon gives a hearty laugh. "Yeah sure, right before she broke your nose. Go clean yourself up. Don't forget to check in... I'm taking her down now." 

Sagging in relief when you hear Simon believes you. He clips the leash to your collar but keeps a firm grip of your arm as he leads you down the hall to the stairs. 

Trying to plant your feet, "I'm not allowed off this floor..." 

Simon chuckles smoothing his mustache, "Yeah ok, you want to follow the rules when it's time to pay the piper, but do you really think Negan would be cool with you out on that roof. Regardless of whether you were trying to suck Raul's dick or not... We both know the answer to that."

Face falling. "Shit."

"Shit, indeed. Now come on. I got a fuck ton of other things to do after delivering you to the boss for a little chat."

Did Negan know about the roof? Was he going to throw you in a cell? Confusion growing when Simon leads you down your old hall on the 4th. A guard outside of your old room. 

Simon knocks twice, opening the door at the muffled "Enter". 

Negan is standing, back to the room, talking into a walkie, "You just earned yourself a pass to the pussy parlor tonight. I'll cover it." Discarding the walkie on top of the dresser, turning, leveling you with a hard gaze. "We have some shit to discuss, doll." 

Simon's hand unclips your leash.

Your stomach flipping violently at Negan's words. This is really happening. Brain going fuzzy in panic. He's really getting rid of you. What if you say no to Simon. Rape isn't allowed. Will it still count as rape if you're a gift? 

The door clicking closed behind you breaks you out of your thoughts. 

Negan circles you slowly. Whistling his eerie tune. Content to watch you squirm. 

"Why are we back in my old room?"

Stopping his pacing behind you, sweeping your hair to the side, running his nose up the side of your neck, gravelly voice in your ear,"I wanted to play a game."

Shutting your eyes, trying to stay focused, swallowing down the hysteria trying to overwhelm you. Hating when your voice trembles, "What sort of game..."

Walking to the table, placing Lucille in one chair before removing his leather jacket and sitting in the other. Leering at you with a sinister grin. "I left something on the bed for you."

Turning toward the bed. Feeling dizzy with déjà vu. 

The black nighty, thong and heels from your first night. 

Eyeing the garment with dread. 

"These last few days have been tough on me. Shit, I know they've been tough on you. Got me feeling," waving his hand flippantly, "nostalgic... Thought we could use a little blast from the past. See how fucking far we've come."

Glancing back, confused. 

"Put it on..." His voice taking on a commanding edge. "I want you to put it on and fucking BEG me... to forgive you..."