Chapter Text
Naomi
Mia's here.
Mia's alive, and she's here.
It was my first thought. And it made the pain I woke up in bearable. Felt like I was bruised on the inside all the way down to my bones.
The room was dark, but I knew instantly that I wasn't alone. Someone else was here, they moved something across the room. I knew who I hoped it was. The last time I'd woken up feeling anywhere near this shitty, there'd been a safe pair of arms to hold me together. A shoulder to lean on when I felt weak. He'd grumbled at me for being a crappy patient, and neither of us had any kind of medical degree, but he was still the best doctor I'd ever had.
"Daryl?" I whispered before I opened my eyes. I knew it wouldn't be him. There was no way Negan would have allowed it, but that subconscious part of me, the one that stays up all night dreaming of him, was the first to wake up. My slowly-stirring mind flitted between this room and sleep.
"No," Sherry's soft voice was heavy with sympathy. "It's only me. How are you feeling?"
"Been better," I opened my eyes properly and struggled to sit up. "I've also been worse."
Sherry moved closer to me, waiting to see if I needed any help. I did, but I didn't want it to be from her. I didn't know her. Didn't know if I could trust her. A quick glance at the room around the room told me I was back in the doctor's office and had been sleeping on the patient's bed. I wondered how long it had been since Negan's guys had beaten the crap out of me, and probably Daryl.
No sign of him now.
"Is he okay?" I asked. Didn't have to tell her who I meant.
"He's back in his cell," she said, which wasn't much of an answer.
Not okay, then.
"Doctor Carson's sleeping," she said. "But I can go and get him if-"
"No," I interrupted her. I didn't give a shit about seeing Doctor Carson. These wounds would heal, but it was dark outside, and I figured even Negan had to sleep sometime. He was, for all the fear he struck into those around him, still human. I was out of my cell, and I knew that if there was ever a time I was going to find Mia, it was now.
"Are there kids here?" I asked. Sherry looked surprised by my question. Guess it would seem out of the blue to her. She hesitated, and I didn't have the patience for it. "This place, you take in kids here?"
"Yes," she said. "The Sanctuary-"
"Sanctuary," I repeated, with a laugh that caused a stab of pain right through my ribs. "Some Sanctuary this place is."
"I know," Sherry said with a sympathetic smile. "But, believe it or not, Negan does take people in. He gives them shelter, jobs, and community. There are whole parts of this place with people who have no idea what Negan's like. There are farmers, engineers who keep the lights on, people to keep this place running. Not everyone who works for Negan fights for him. Many people just live here, kids included."
Relief tugged at my heart so much it almost tore. If Mia was here, and I had no reason to believe that Daryl was wrong about that, then it sounded like she hadn't been treated like they were treating us. She might be okay. The question burned my lips. But trusting Sherry was a risk. I looked at her, weighing my options, trying to work out what kind of person she was.
"You had a sister, right?" I asked as gently as I could. I knew it would be painful, but I hoped that reminding her would stop her from ratting me out to Negan. "Daryl told me you lost her when you were out there with Dwight. After you escaped from this place."
"Tina," Sherry said. The muscles in her jaw tightened. "Her name was Tina."
"Tina," I repeated. I knew I had to tread carefully. "I'm real sorry you lost her. That you had to see that… I can't imagine how hard that must have been."
I stopped, not sure what else I could say. Getting out of this place only to lose your little sister on the run… I imagined it was the kind of pain you couldn't put into words. Or ever truly recover from. No wonder Sherry had done whatever it took to keep Dwight alive. He was probably all she had left, and now they couldn't even be together. She was fighting them back, but a few tears slipped down Sherry's cheeks. She wiped them hurriedly away. "Thanks."
I took a deep breath, gave her a moment to recover. Weighed up the risks of sharing my own story with her. It was obvious she had no love for Negan, her loyalty to him was based on fear more than anything else.
"I lost my sister, too," I said. Sherry looked at me, eyes full of questions. "She ain't dead, we just got separated, but… I think she might be here. Do you… do you know any of the kids?"
My question felt like it was made of glass. Like the wrong answer would break it, leave something inside me shattered and bleeding.
"Yes," she said. "I know most of them."
Here goes nothing.
"Her name's Mia," I said, heard my voice start shaking and tried to stay calm, but it was hard. "Mia Payton. She's thirteen. Her hair's light-"
"I know Mia," Sherry interrupted me. Something deep in my chest that had been tied in knots for months started to unwind. Painful relief. I finally knew where she was. After all this time. And she wasn't dead, wasn't some blankly staring Walker I had to put down. She was here, and she was alive.
I closed my eyes. Hot tears against my eyelids. Daryl whispering it to me while he held me close was one thing, believing it was another. Even now, it felt dangerous to hope. Tears spilled out. I couldn't stop them.
I heard Sherry take a step. "Mia's your sister?"
"Yes."
She's here. She's really fucking here.
My hands shook as I reached up to wipe my eyes. I looked back at Sherry, she'd moved closer to me. It looked like she wanted to reach out but didn't. I felt like a wounded animal, the kind that people avoid helping because they're worried it'll lash out.
"Can I see her?" I asked. I didn't expect the answer to be yes, but how could I stay sane if I didn't try? Sherry hesitated; I could see her mulling it over. My heart beat so hard in my chest I could feel it against my ribs.
"Negan can't know," she said eventually. "You can't let him find out she's your sister. The more connections you have in this place, the worse he can make things for you. He's already got Daryl, and if he knows he's got Mia to help keep you in line too…"
Sherry shuddered at the thought of it. A deep, gnawing worry ate away at my stomach. Would Negan really use a child like that? I'd seen the way he looked at Carl, the way he threatened him in that clearing. He hadn't actually hurt him, but… Even the thought of Mia in that situation was almost enough to make me vow to join the Saviors on the spot.
"I just want to see her," I said, my heart sank right down to my feet. "I just want to know she's okay."
It had been months since I'd seen her, and now I might just be able to walk down the hallway and talk to her? Hug her? Sherry was still hesitating. Clenching my fists hurt, but it was automatic. Negan had tried his hardest to beat it out of me, but there was still enough fire in my veins to burn this damn place to the ground. I had to hold myself back from punching Sherry or making any threats by reminding myself that this wasn't her fault and that I needed her on my side if I was ever going to see my sister again.
"Negan's sleeping," Sherry said. My heart sped up. She was clearly carefully considering what I'd asked her, weighing up the options and the risks. "I can probably bring her to you, but it can't be for long. Nobody can see her, nobody can know about this."
"That's fine," I said. Who the hell was I gonna tell? I'd settle for just a glimpse of her. We didn't have to talk, just a moment would do. All I needed was to see her little face, to know she was alive and doing okay. I'd do whatever it took to get that.
"She doesn't know what Negan's like," Sherry reminded me. "Not really. You're going to have to break a lot of bad news to her, and you won't have long."
"She can handle it," I assured her. Mia was smart, and kids are always more perceptive than folks give them credit for, I was sure she would already know that something wasn't right about this place. If she'd seen Daryl, she'd know for sure.
"Okay," Sherry said quietly. My heart lifted, but it felt so fragile. Like if something went wrong now, it would break beyond repair. "I'll go get her."
I'll go get her.
I'd been longing for someone to tell me that, and now it was happening, it felt like a dream. When the door closed behind her, I half expected Sherry not to come back. Or that I would wake up in some other room. Maybe back on the floor where I'd passed out. Finding Mia, in the middle of everything that was happening to us, made every beating I'd taken worth it. I'd have taken a thousand more just to see her one more time. To know she was okay.
She's alive.
She's here.
It hit me in waves. Large, painful ones. A deep sea of hope and fear that threatened to drown me. My lungs filled with it.
When I'd found out my Momma was pregnant again, it had felt like the end of the world. I'd seen two roads ahead of me, one where everything I was working towards went up in smoke because I had to look after her kid and another where I didn't, where I let this new baby grow up as neglected as me.
Then she'd arrived. So small and fragile. So sleepy. I'd been in the delivery room with Momma, and a nurse had handed her over to me. I didn't want to be there, was terrified I'd drop her. But the moment she looked up at me for the first time, started crying from the shock of finally being out in the world, it had all changed. I'd have laid down my life for her right there and then. It was my first memory of her.
The last memory I had of her was when she'd been taken from me. Her sad and scared eyes looking to me for guidance. And instead of telling her to fight like hell, I'd reassured her. Told her that everything would be alright as long as we just did what they said. Lied to her. She'd counted on me to protect her, and I'd failed. Left her alone in the world because I had been too scared to fight until it was too late. And now, somehow, she'd wound up in this shithole.
I'm sorry, Mia. I am so fucking sorry.
I heard footsteps coming back down the corridor and sat up, leaning forward to wait for them. If this was Negan, or Simon, or anyone but Mia and Sherry, I would lose my goddamn mind.
The door opened. I tried not to cry and to hold myself together for her. I knew I was bruised and bloody, which would frighten her enough without her having to see her big sister crying too. But the moment I saw her anxious little face in the doorway, the tsunami I'd been holding back burst out of me. She ran towards me. I leaped off the doctor's bed, barely registering the pains in my body. I reached for her, and she threw herself into my arms.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I squeezed her tight. I never wanted to let her go as long as I lived. "Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?"
I'll burn this place to the ground right now.
I'll peel off Negan's skin and throw him in a bath of acid.
"I'm okay," she said. "They haven't touched me, not once. But you… and Daryl… you both-"
"I'm fine," I tried to reassure her. "Daryl and I… our group had a run-in with Negan. But I'm fine."
"What kind of run-in?" she asked. Her eyes narrowed slightly. I wondered what her opinion of Negan was, her experience of him, and how a pill this would be for her to swallow.
"He killed one of our friends," I said. "I don't even know what he did to the others because he took Daryl and me prisoner, locked us up in the dark so we couldn't see what happened to them."
"Negan did that?"
"Yes," I said. "And he can't know that you're my sister, or that you know Daryl, okay? I don't know what he'd do if he found out, but I ain't risking it. I ain't risking you."
"I could ask him to help you," she said, her worried eyes were on my face. "He might stop-"
"Negan's the reason I've got these bruises," I said. For a moment, she looked shocked, and I thought about how Sherry had warned me about the innocent people here who had no idea what Negan was like. But it passed, and Mia started looking angry. It was an anger I recognized. One that you only get when someone hurts a person you care about. One that can make you do stupid shit. I quickly added. "Looks worse than it is. I'll be back on my feet in no time. I'm okay."
"You're hurt," she said. "That ain't okay."
I sat down on the infirmary bed, and she climbed up to sit next to me. I put my arms around her and just held her for a moment, needing a moment to take a breath. It all rose up inside me, everything since I'd lost her. Every futile search. I thought about how alone she'd been until now, stuck in a place like this. How do you even start apologizing for all of that?
A lump in my throat made it too hard to talk. The hole in my heart I'd been carrying around since she'd gone was starting to close, but even healing from it hurt. Parts of me that I thought might be dead were pulling themselves back all at once. Before I could say anything, Mia looked up at me.
"I'm sorry," she sniffed, wiping a few tears from her face. "I'm so, so sorry."
"You're sorry?" I pulled away from her a little so that I could look at her face. "What the hell have you got to be sorry about?"
"I left," she said like that was any kind of answer. "Perla and me. We tried to fight… all of you were trapped in those cars, and we tried to get you. We tried…"
"I know," I cut her off. I didn't want her to have to relive any of it. What those kids must have gone through trying to free us all, I never wanted her to have to think about it again. And I was going to make damn sure that getting out of here didn't require that kind of sacrifice. Not from her. If there was a price to pay, I was going to be the one paying it.
"They just started killing," she whispered, and it was like I could see the ghost of that moment reflected in her eyes. "José got us out. Told us to get help. We waited, but… he didn't come back."
I thought of José and how calm he'd been. How he'd died protecting his sister and mine. How I'd been the one to pull the trigger.
"He didn't make it," I told her, and she nodded like she'd been preparing herself for that. "But Perla did, and she found Daryl. She's okay, she's back home, and you can see her when we get out of here."
A heartbreaking mix of sadness and hope crossed her face. "Is she mad at me? For leaving her?"
"No," I said, stroking her hair. "Not at all. She was just worried about you, she didn't know where you'd gone."
"I saw the car coming down the road," Mia said. "We thought it might be those men… the ones from Terminus, so we tried to hide up in the trees. Like we did back in the beginning, y' know? But, it was hard to climb, so I gave Perla a leg up. She was going to pull me up from one of the branches, but by the time she got up there, the car was too close. I thought they'd see us. So… I tried to get someplace else to hide, but they saw me. They caught me and brought me out into the road."
"It was the Saviors?"
"Yeah," she said. "I didn't know if it was safe to go with them, so I told them I was out there on my own, that I'd lost my group. I didn't want to put Perla in danger too, not until I knew whether I could trust them or not."
"Mia..." I breathed. "Why didn't you run?"
"They had guns," she shrugged. "They weren't pointing them at me or anything, but they still had them. I thought if I went with them, if I found out that they were good people, they'd be able to help."
"Help?"
"José told us to find help, people who could take down Terminus," Mia said. "That's what I was doing."
"All by yourself?"
"If it wasn't safe, I didn't want to put Perla at risk," she said. "Because if we were both dead, there wouldn't be anyone to help the rest of you."
She said it so matter-of-factly, but I was stunned into silence for a moment. The weight of that decision seemed too big for her little shoulders. Feeling responsible not just for herself, but for Perla, and the rest of us who had still been trapped back there. I was as in awe as I was mad as hell that she'd put herself in danger like that.
"I was trying to be brave," she said, a little defensively when I didn't say anything right away. "I was trying to keep Perla safe. I just did what I thought you would do."
"You did?" My voice came out all small and quiet. She nodded.
"They brought me back here," she said. "To the Sanctuary. I waited until I knew that they weren't going to kill me and saw that this place had food and shelter, and then I told them that Perla had been with me. We went back out to find her, but… she was gone. I thought… I thought one of the dead ones got her. Or maybe she'd been found by-"
"She's safe," I reminded her, I could see Mia spiraling back into that old worry. One she'd clearly been gripping onto and turning over and over in her mind since the girls had been separated. "She's okay. She's still alive."
"When I knew that the Saviors had guns, and a lot of people who could fight, I told them about Terminus," she said. "They didn't listen at first, but eventually they did. I told them how many of you were trapped there, and... they agreed to help get you out. I think they wanted you all to work for them, but that sounded better than what was happening to you. So, I took them there, and everything was all burnt-out. Destroyed. I didn't know if you were all dead, or... if it was you that had done it."
"Daryl's friend Carol did that," I said. "It was after I left looking for you, but… she took the whole place down."
"Good," Mia said. "I'm glad it's gone."
You and me both, kid.
There was so much heavy shit in this room, in what should have been a happy moment, that it didn't feel right to bring it down further by telling her the rest. The fight we'd had, and the friends we'd lost. The dark turn the survivors had taken. We were together again, and sometimes the best thing to do is look forward.
"You'll like Carol," I said, and I leaned my head against Mia's. "She makes the best cookies."
I hoped by the time we got back to Alexandria, Carol would have returned so that Mia could meet her. Or I could take her to the Kingdom to meet her and see Bryce again. That thought filled me with a painful kind of happiness. There was so much good to come. So much ahead of us, if we could just get the hell out of this place.
"I'm going to get us out of here," I told her. The more I said it, repeated it, even just to myself, the more real it felt.
"Daryl too?"
"Of course," I said, I'd assumed that was obvious. "We ain't going anywhere without him. Me, you, Daryl. All of us. I'm going to get us all out of this place."
"That's exactly what Daryl said," Mia said, a small smile twitching the corners of her mouth. "I'm glad you found him. I didn't like thinking of you out there on your own."
"Mia…" I couldn't say much more than her name. "I love you so much, kid."
"Love you, too, Naomi," she said.
A quiet settled around us, and I forgot for a moment where we were. I forgot what was going on. Only Mia and I existed in a little bubble. One good thing in a sea of shit.
"I'm sorry," Sherry said quietly, but it was enough to burst our moment. "I need to take her back now. One of Negan's patrols will swing round to check on you soon. She shouldn't be here when that happens."
No.
We haven't had enough time.
I reminded myself that just moments ago, I'd have been happy with just seeing her through a window. And now we'd had a whole conversation. It was difficult to stop that crushing desperation from creeping into my heart.
This wasn't 'goodbye.' This was 'see you later.'
Mia jumped down from the bed. I could tell she was trying not to cry again, and I wondered if she was being brave for herself or for me. Sherry gave me a warning glance.
"Mia," I said, she looked back at me. "Remember, you can't tell anyone you know me, okay? Or Daryl. That has to stay a secret."
"I know," she said. "And I'll see you soon. Love you."
"Love you, too," I tried not to fall apart again as Sherry led her out of the room.
It's amazing what one good thing in a sea of shit can do for you. The fight it can give you. How it can sharpen the way you think, and remold that courage, so it's no longer directionless anger and fists. Fighting Simon had gotten us nowhere. If I was going to do this, if I was ever going to get them both out of here, or get close enough to Negan to kill him, I needed to be smarter. Needed him to think that I was falling in line.
Easier said than done, though. Negan's patrol did swing by not long after Sherry came back. And when they saw I was awake, they went to get him.
"Naomi, Naomi, Naomi," he said when he saw me like he was greeting an old friend. "What am I going to do with you, huh?"
His usual sick grin was plastered all over his face, I still wanted to punch his teeth out. I still wanted to tell him to go to hell every time he looked in my direction. But I didn't. And I tried to hide those thoughts from showing on my face. He walked around the bed and took in my injuries.
"Not so many on the face this time, that's good. Now, I'm going to have Sherry here take you back to your cell, but you gotta rest up," he told me. "Heal those wounds. Get your beauty sleep, I want you looking your best, okay?"
The way he was looking at me... it was so hard not to cuss this guy out. But I could swallow it. For Mia, and for Daryl, I could take almost anything.
"Because I think under these bruises and all this blood… you could be real pretty," Negan said, he reached out and brushed a piece of blood-matted hair out of my face. I wanted to vomit, but I didn't even flinch. "Maybe even beautiful. And I want Daryl to see that. I want him to see what he's missing out on, maybe remember why he fell in love with you in the first place."
I wonder how this will backfire when you realize he ain't in love with me.
"Hey," he said, his fingers under my chin held it in position in front of him, his eyes still roaming my face. Assessing it. Made me want to pull my own skin off. "You did well. I mean it. I am impressed. The beating you took… man, you should've seen the look on Daryl's face when we couldn't wake you up."
He laughed.
Smug bastard.
I didn't need to see that look. I'd seen the one right before it: Daryl's anger and his pain. I hated seeing him look like that. Hated even more that I was any part of causing it. It wasn't his fists or his feet slamming into me, but I saw in his eyes that he blamed himself for what was happening. I'd tried to tell him that it wasn't on him, to reassure him that I was fine, but the pain had been too much.
I would tell him, though, I would tell him when we got out of here. I'd hold him close, and I'd make sure he knew that nothing bad was his fault. That knowing him was, in all honesty, one of the best things that had ever happened to me. Even in the middle of a beating, I still felt lucky as hell that he was there. There was nobody I'd rather be stuck in this hell with. The anger that was in me started to fade. Even listening to Negan wasn't so bad.
Because I didn't just have one good thing. I had two. And that made me powerful as hell.
"You did good, Naomi," Negan said again. "You really toughed it out. What a champ. I am proud of you."
I swallowed all of it back. Raised my eyes from the floor to meet his. Then, though it brought all sorts of bile to the back of my throat, I said, "Thank you."
The surprise and delight in his eyes was difficult to stomach. I played out the day I'd finally get to kill this man in the back of my mind. When I'd be able to watch the light die in his eyes.
"What did you just say to me?" he asked.
Was he really going to make me repeat it? I wasn't sure that I could. I took a deep breath. "Thank you."
"Well, shit," he whispered. "You are full of surprises. That was polite as hell."
I smiled. There was a scab on my lip that stung a little when I did so, but it was nothing compared to the gnawing hatred in my stomach. But I could stomach it. For Mia, and for Daryl and for whatever was left of Alexandria. I would stomach it until I could gut Negan like a goddamn fish.
Daryl
Dwight pulled me out of my cell, back to the room he'd caught me looking in before - the one with the bed and the books and the fridge.
"Step in," he told me. Negan was sitting in that comfy looking chair, waiting for me with that goddamn grin. It widened when he saw me.
"Jesus. You look awful. Don't you worry, we'll have Carson fix you up. You thirsty?" he asked. I didn't answer. I was, couldn't remember the last time they'd given me water.
"Naomi!" Negan clicked his fingers like he was calling on a damn dog. Like assholes at the diner used to do when she was a kid. The spark of rage in me was so familiar. That deep-seated need to punch him in his stupid face.
Naomi stepped out of the shadows in the far corner of the room, and when I saw her, I could have cried.
There was no more blood on her. Her hair was clean, and someone had pinned little bits of it up on her head, letting the rest of her curls fall down around her pretty face. They'd put makeup on her. Given her a little black dress that hugged the gentle curve of her waist and skimmed over her hips. She looked like a goddamn Princess.
"Don't you think she looks pretty, Daryl?" Negan said. "Ain't you gonna tell her that?"
Not in front of you, asshole.
I'd never seen her in anything like it. But, there was a reason for that. It stopped mid-thigh, showed her legs, and the scars I'd always known were there but never actually seen. Cigarette burns from a Momma who didn't deserve a kid, nevermind one as good as her. I didn't mean to look. Didn't want to look. And when I realized I was staring, I looked away again. Not because they were ugly or anything, but because she hid them for a reason, and I'd never wanted to see them without her wanting me to. If she wanted me to. I'd always thought she'd open up when she was ready. When it was just the two of us, and she could take a breath, stop trying to take on the whole world for one small moment, and just be with me.
Now Negan had robbed her of that. Robbed us of it.
She held out a glass of water to me, and I looked at her face. Such sad eyes. I took it from her, and she reached a hand up towards me. I think she was going to brush the hair out of my face, take a good look at the damage that had been done, but I'll never know for sure, because Negan said, "Uh-uh. No touching."
She wanted to fight it, I could see it rising in her, but she dropped her hand. Didn't move from where she was standing. So close to me.
This room, and her looking the way she did, I knew Negan was trying to show me what he thought I wanted. What he thought my ideal life would look like. But it wasn't right. If he'd asked, I'd have told him that if he wanted to dangle my perfect life in front of me, we'd be outside. She'd have shoes so she could run and hunt, walk through the woods with me. The only marks on her would be the little smudges of dirt she gets from accidentally touching her face with muddy hands because she's so caught up in what we're doing she forgets her hands are messy. And she could wear whatever she damn well wanted as long as she was comfortable.
"Step away from him, Naomi," Negan said, he pointed to the bed in the room. "Sit."
Again, I saw that fight in her eyes, only for her to extinguish it herself and slowly do as she was told.
"Pretty crappy boyfriend you got," Negan said to her. She stared intensely at the ground. Her cheeks were red from what I knew was unwanted attention. Naomi had never been one for listening to compliments, especially from straight-up creeps like him. "Here you are looking smoking hot, and he ain't got the balls to tell you that he thinks you're beautiful."
She knows, though, right?
I must've told her.
Why was he doing this? Did he think I'd forget how pretty she was? That it would make me want to fight harder for her? I'd always thought she was beautiful, but it wasn't why I loved her. She didn't have to look a certain way for me to want to fight for her.
And this Naomi, sitting on some stranger's bed and staring at the floor, tugging at the bottom of her dress and trying desperately to hide those scars… This was not the life I wanted for her. For us.
"It is 'boyfriend,' right?" Negan asked us. "Not 'husband?' How long have you been together?"
Will this guy ever shut up?
I couldn't look away from her. Her eyes were still staring at the ground, but she seemed like a shell. A ghost of herself. I felt like if I looked away from her for even a second, she'd blow away like smoke. As my memories of her were all that was keeping her here.
Marks of captivity were everywhere on her. They'd done their best to cover bruises on her neck with that damn makeup, but I could still see them. Deep purple lines where some asshole's hands had tried to choke the life outta her. He might've dressed her up all pretty, but her feet were still bare so she couldn't run from him. And she didn't need that stuff on her face, either. She was beautiful no matter what, but right now, she wasn't comfortable. She wasn't her.
"Fuck me, you two are quiet," he said. "Ain't seen each other in a while, last time you did, you both took one hell of a beating, but now you ain't got shit to say? You always this quiet with each other? Or is your relationship not so much about the conversation?"
His horrible, grating laugh filled the room and made my skin itch.
"Not long," Naomi said suddenly. There was a tiredness to her voice that I didn't like. Negan stood up, took a few steps towards where she was sitting on the bed.
"Ah, there she is," he said, a sick kind of glee in his voice. "She's back in the room. What are you saying, Naomi?"
"You asked how long we've been together," she said, finally lifting her eyes from the floor. Looking at him, not me. "The answer is, not long."
She wasn't lying, but something about it stung. It made our relationship sound smaller than it felt, or at least how it felt to me. Maybe that's what she was trying to do, to throw him off a little. She was so quiet, and without her looking at me, I found it hard to get a read on what she was thinking.
"Well, shit," Negan said. "Could've fooled me. The way you two talk about each other… it's intense as shit. Thought for sure it had been a few years. You lying to me, Naomi?"
"Nope," she said. There was something so calm about her tone. Like she'd given up fighting. It terrified me. What had they done to her? What had been bad enough to make her fall in line? Surely not Naomi. Never her. "We only got together recently."
"Huh," Negan said. "Well, then maybe this won't be as hard for either of you as I thought. See Dwighty boy, here? He had a wife. A proper goddamn wife. He worked for points. Him and his super-hot wife and her super-hot sister."
I glanced over at Dwight. His face was stony, gave nothing away. I thought about Tina, how scared she'd been in that burned-out forest. How scared they'd all been.
"But see sis - she needed meds, and that shit is hard to scavenge, so it costs more. Sis fell behind on points, so I asked her to marry me," Negan said. "Told her I would take care of her in sickness and in health, blah blah blah, because I am a stand-up guy."
No fucking wonder she ran away.
"She tells me she's going to think about it. Next thing I know, I'm dealing with an orange situation. Dwighty boy here stole all the medication and took off with his super-hot wife, and my super-hot maybe soon-to-be fiancee," he continued. "So I had to send my guys after him. Because I can't let something like that stand. There… are… rules."
He'd raised his bat again, was waving it under my nose.
"Cost me an arm and a leg going after him. And you know what - Dwighty boy? He still got away," he shot Dwight a glare like he was still mad about it. Beside me, I felt Dwight tense like even he wasn't sure that Negan was over it. "But here's the thing. D, he saw the light. He manned up, he came back. He asked for my forgiveness. I like that. Made me… take notice. But Lucille… Well, you know how she is. She is a stickler for the rules."
Stop calling it 'she.' It's a damn bat, psycho.
"So, Dwight… he begged me not to kill Sherry, which I thought was kind of cute, so I was just gonna kill him. But then Sherry says that she will marry me if I let Dwight live, which, if you think about it, is a pretty screwed-up deal, 'cause I was gonna marry her sister until she wound up dead, but… Sherry is super-hot."
I don't like where this is going.
I glanced at Naomi. Her eyes were fixed on Dwight, they had been the whole time Negan was talking. A little frown creased her brow. The kind she only gets when she's thinking real hard about something real serious. She was plotting something, and this was feeding into it. For the first time since I'd walked in here, she looked like herself. Like she did when she was putting some dumb binder together, or making a pro-con list. Concentrated planning. No distractions.
I love you so much, you goddamn nerd.
"Anyways, it was a start. But it wasn't enough. So Dwight… he got the iron. And then I married his super-hot wife… ex-wife… And then, after all that, he still got on board. And now look at him. One of my top guys. And we are totally cool."
He put a hand on Dwight's shoulder. Looked at him like he owned him. There was a flicker, a tiny little flinch from Dwight that made me think they weren't totally cool.
"The point being, I think you can be that guy. I think you are ready to be that guy. You look around here. This? Well… it can all be yours," Negan said, finally getting around to what he'd been building to, what I'd been able to see him building too since I stepped in here and saw this place. Saw my girl, looking like a goddamn Princess. "All you gotta do is answer one simple question. Who are you?"
I said nothing. Stared at the floor. I wouldn't say it. He'd never get me to say it.
"What is it, cat got your tongue?" he said. "I'm gonna ask you one more time. Who are you?"
I looked up at him. Him and that damn bat.
I will kill you one day. Or she will. Don't matter.
"Daryl."
Another smug smile. I hated it. I'd rather he got mad. I'd rather he beat me again than stood there, giving me this satisfied look.
"This is the only-" Dwight started to say.
"Hey. Shh, shh, shh. It's cool, D. He made his choice. Ain't my problem if he made a dumbass choice," Negan said. He was so damn close to me; I could practically smell what he had for lunch. I thought that might be it. That we might be done now, but he swung back around to look at Naomi. "There is always another option. Naomi?"
She looked at him, surprised to be spoken to. It had caught her off-guard, mid-thought about something else. Negan didn't notice, didn't know her well enough to pick up on it.
"Have I mentioned how super hot you look today?" he said.
She got what he was implying right away. I saw the shock hit her all once. The dread. The fear that this would be another Terminus. That she'd end up forced into bed with some guy she hated while people she cared about suffered around her. It consumed her for a moment, and she couldn't hide it from anyone.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," he said, walking right up to her. His hand under her chin forced her face up to look at him. "I am not a bad guy. I take good care of my girls. And I don't do anything they don't say yes to. You can say no, Naomi. No hard feelings. But it is an option. One that can get you two out of a whole lotta shit. You and Daryl could live a nice life here. Just not, y' know, together."
I felt sick and watched Naomi's hands shake a little as she folded them into her lap to hide it from him. What Naomi went through should never have happened in the first place, and there was no way in hell I was letting it happen again. Not with a guy who didn't understand that saying yes because you want to ain't the same as saying yes because you don't have any other choice.
He would have to kill me first.
"Of course, she'd be mine," Negan continued, looking at me now. "But I'm a generous guy. I've been known to share my wives with my men when they've earned it. Ain't that right, Dwighty boy? As long as they have my permission, and my girls say yes, I am cool with that."
Share.
I couldn't do this anymore. My hands balled into fists. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but I couldn't. There was too much rage in me, filling my lungs. It would tear me apart if I didn't tear into him.
"Daryl," Naomi's voice called me back before I could even move towards him. I blinked a couple of times, tried to clear my head. "Don't."
She was considering his offer. I knew she would be. It had already been made painfully clear that Naomi would do anything for me. Even this. I'd never understand why. God knows, I ain't worth it. I'll never know what she saw in me, what made her stand by me like this. Usually, I just felt lucky as hell. But today? Today, I wished she'd cared less, been a little more selfish.
Her eyes met mine, and with a look, I knew what she was trying to say, what she would've said if we'd been free to talk to each other. "I'll do it for you. To keep you safe. I'll do anything for you, dumbass."
I shook my head at her. Didn't say anything, but it felt like I was begging. Pleading with her not to do this.
We will find another way out.
There's always another way.
She looked away from me, a flicker of annoyance crossed her face, and I knew she'd understood me.
"Look, it's a lot to process, I get that," Negan said. "You can have a little while to mull it over, and if you don't want to, that's fine by me. I think you could make a fine soldier, too. Damn fine. But take your time to think about it, and while you do, Daryl here will be working for points."
That was fine. That was something I could stomach. Getting out of that cell, dealing with Walkers instead of dealing with him, that sounded better than anything else he'd offered up so far. At least, for now, it kept Naomi away from him.
Dwight took me back to my cell, shoved me in there.
"You're gonna wind up in that room or hanging on the fence!" he said. He sounded genuinely angry that I hadn't taken the deal and that Naomi hadn't either. I got it. He'd caved when we hadn't. I looked up at him as he was about to shut the door.
"I get why you did it," I told him. He stopped. "Why you took it. You were thinking about someone else. That's why I can't."
When they'd been faced with the same deal, all they'd had left was each other. It wasn't the same for Naomi and me. Abraham's memory hung over both of us. The fate of everyone left in Alexandria hung over both of us. Taking that deal would mean fighting against them rather than with them. Betraying all of them. It was not an option. And, of course, Naomi's life felt like it hung in the balance too. She could do what she wanted, be with whoever she wanted. But I would die before I let anyone touch her without her consent.
Sitting in the dark, I felt calmer than I had in a while. Negan had shown his cards. Some of them, at least. He wanted me to be like Dwight, and her to be like Sherry. Or both of us to lose ourselves and each other, become another mindless drone who called themselves Negan. Knowing what he wanted, what all of this was for, would make it easier to fight it.
Dwight didn't let me sit there for long. A few hours later, he came to pull me back out again.
"Get up, asshole," he said. "You've got your first job."
I was mentally prepared to work the fence, fight Walkers, and stick them up on spikes. But that was not my first job. My first job was raiding Alexandria, my first job was taking things away from my friends and family. Destroying our home.
Standing outside the gates of Alexandria felt all sorts of wrong. Things were so different now, it felt like the gates should look different, too. Like when they rolled back, the whole place should've crumbled to dust. But it hadn't. It was still standing, and it looked much the same.
Rick looked different, though. There was something about his eyes that wasn't right. Sad and angry and nowhere to put it. But it wasn't just that. He was scared. He was genuinely scared when he looked at Negan and the hordes of men he'd brought with him. He tried to say something to me, but Negan wouldn't let him. I wanted to say something to him, too. I wanted to tell him that I was okay, although I knew it didn't look that way. I knew I looked like shit. But I didn't want to be just another worry on his mind.
They took all the guns. Ran through Olivia's damn inventory and found that two were missing. Negan told Rick to find them, or someone would die. Then he took me from place to place, made me take shit from my friends. There didn't seem to be much rhyme or reason to it. It was all just whatever the hell Negan wanted.
He stopped me outside a house, and my heart sank. It was Naomi's place. He couldn't have known that, of course, but I'd hoped I wouldn't have to be there when they went through her stuff. Eric was at the door. He tried to talk to me, I think he wanted to ask me about Naomi, but Negan shut it down.
We spread out through the house. They trashed whatever they felt like trashing, and then we got to her room.
"Damn, this is a lotta books," Negan said, looking around. "The hell is this place; a bedroom or a library?"
He swung his foot at one of the stacks of books, watched it topple over. It knocked over a second one. The books got all jumbled up. It was okay, I could fix it. I knew her system. We could both fix it when we got home.
"Shit, you just flinched," Negan said, looking both confused and amused. "Can't imagine a dumb ape like you having this many books."
I said nothing. Negan looked at Eric in the doorway. "Hey, you. Who's room is this?"
Eric glanced at me like he didn't want to tell the truth but didn't know what else to say. "It's… eh, Naomi's."
Even hearing her name caused a little pang in my heart. She should be here, in this room with me, and the rest of them should be gone.
"Ohhh," Negan said, his face lighting up as he looked around the room. "She some kind of brainiac? Boy, she is really slumming it with your dumb ass. And I gotta say, there ain't much of you in this room. You don't spend much time in here, do you?"
He got this glint in his eye. The same one he'd had when Naomi said we hadn't been together all that long. Like he'd spotted some kind of weakness. A way to tear us apart. A crack in our foundations. Like just because we hadn't slept together meant our relationship was nothing, that my feelings for her were nothing. It was such bullshit. She was everything to me.
"This Naomi's bed?" he asked, sitting down on it. He ran his hand over the covers. "This where the magic happens, Daryl?"
Fuck. You.
"I am definitely taking this," he patted the mattress. He stood up and grinned down at me, his eyes gleaming like he'd won some kind of prize from me. "I love the way it feels, and I want to make sure she feels at home on our wedding night."
I'm going to kill you.
I'm going to beat the living shit out of you.
I'm going to cut a small piece off of you every day and make you eat it to stay alive.
The muscles in my jaw clenched, holding it all back because I had no guarantee that I'd be the one who paid the price if I talked back. The thought of Naomi taking another beating like that - because of me - would've been enough to keep me silent for the rest of my days. I reminded myself that having her bed wasn't the same thing as having her. Negan motioned to his guys to join us in her room, and suddenly it felt too warm in there. Crowded. This was her space. Having strangers in it wasn't right. Having him in there wasn't right. Negan whistled to get my attention, "Don't just stand there, Daryl, get lifting."
I walked over to a corner of the bed, slipped my hands under the mattress, and tried not to think about when she'd been sick. When I'd taken care of her. Or the first night I'd spent in Alexandria seeing her again for the first time in years, holding her hand until we both fell asleep.
With everything else going on, I forgot about the box that Naomi was hiding under her bed. As we lifted the mattress, I saw it through the slats. Everything she'd scavenged for Mia. I wanted to kick it away, somewhere out of sight, but I couldn't. Trying to hide it now would only draw more attention to it.
"Hold up, put that down for a second," Negan said. He bent down, peering through the slats in the empty bed frame. "What's this?"
Shit.
The mattress balanced on its side in front of me. A barrier between Negan and me. Any other time, I'd have been glad of it, but now it just meant that I couldn't do shit as he bent down and slid the box out from under there. He stared down at what probably looked to him, like a box of random junk. He gave it a shake that moved everything around in there, and then he looked up at me.
"Your girlfriend been hoarding shit?" he asked. Then he looked back down at it. I thought for a moment that all he was going to do was tip it out and dump it on the floor. That would've been okay. I could pick it up. Put it back together and put the box where it belonged, to wait for Mia until we brought her home. He started to tip it, I heard the rattle of everything in there shifting around. And then his eyes lit up. "Oh, what is this?"
No.
No, no, no.
He reached in and pulled out a photograph, looked at it like he'd struck gold. I wanted to lean over there, snatch it right out of his hands, but it was too late. He turned it around to show me, although I didn't need to see it. I had it memorized.
"Is this you?" he asked. He moved his finger, so it was hovering over my face. My stupid, grinning face. "Because you look young as shit here. And that's Naomi next to you, ain't it? With a kid."
He moved his finger over her face. Grinning just as much and covered in cake. Negan stepped forward, got so close to me that it was really only the mattress between us. I knew how it looked, how he would see it. "Did she lie to me, Daryl?"
"No," I said immediately. His voice was low, dangerous.
"You sure about that?" he said. "Because it looks to me like you dumb hicks have been together a while. Looks to me like you got her knocked up and that she's been lying to me about how long you assholes have been together. And I do not like being lied to."
"She ain't lying," I said quickly. My heart was racing real fast. It was hard to think straight. Usually, when I felt like this, if someone had been threatening my girls, I'd have dealt with it with my fists. But I knew I couldn't do that now, that if I did, it would put Naomi at risk. I tried to explain. "Naomi and me… we've known each other since we were kids. But we ain't… we weren't together then. We only… We only just got together."
Please believe me. You gotta believe me.
"And the kid?"
"She is-" I caught myself, "was her sister."
"Was?" he repeated. "She dead?"
"Yes," I lied. It felt like the only way to keep Mia safe, keep her hidden right under his nose. Naomi was already too close to accepting his deal for my liking. I couldn't hand Negan the only ammunition he needed to take her from me completely.
"Huh," Negan said. It still wasn't clear whether or not he believed me. He turned the picture back around so that he could look at it, and then I watched as he slipped it into his pocket. "Well, I am keeping this. Alright, let's load this bad boy up and move out."
He tapped the mattress and walked out ahead of us. We carried it to the trucks by the gate. They were getting damn full now. This was more than their fair share of shit. Not that anything about any of this was fair.
The missing guns turned up somewhere. An extra one from Michonne, too. She must have taken it out hunting with her or something because she came back with it, and a dead deer slung across her shoulders. The gun she'd taken wasn't on the inventory. They could've hidden it. I watched the anger burning in Michonne's eyes as Rick handed it over anyway. The hell was he doing? Where was his fight?
"Now that you know we can follow your rules…" Rick said.
"Yes?" Negan turned back to him, and Rick looked at the ground for a second. I wondered if he was feeling that burning need to punch him, too. If he needed to look away to hide it.
"... I'd like to ask you if Daryl can stay," Rick said when he looked back up.
"Not happening," Negan said immediately. And then a little smile spread over his face, and he looked at me. "Actually, you know what? I don't know. Maybe Daryl can please his case. Maybe Daryl can sway me. Daryl?"
I kept my mouth tightly shut. I knew it was bullshit, I could smell it all over him. But on the off-chance that he wasn't lying, and he would let me come home, we both knew I wouldn't do it. Leaving Naomi where she was? With him? Not a chance in hell. Negan laughed because he knew I wasn't going any time soon.
"Now, you gotta try harder," Negan said to Rick like they hadn't already taken so much shit from this place. "Earn for me. Because we're coming back soon, and when we do, you better have something interesting for us. Or Lucille… she's going to have her way. And no more magic guns. Arat; grab that deer, it's getting late."
Michonne threw the deer carcass down from her shoulders as a woman moved to take it from her. Michonne walked away from it, walked away from him. Dwight started my bike. Rode it around by the gate, looking at me the whole time. He was even in my damn jacket.
"You can have it back," he told me. "Just say the word."
Go to hell.
"Nobody died, and you know what? I think you and I refined our understanding," Negan said. "Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you want me to go?
"I think that'd be good," Rick said.
"Then just say those two magical words."
He waited. Everyone waited. Felt like everyone from Alexandria was torn. Those of us who'd been in that clearing, we held our breath. Prayed for Rick to say something that wouldn't goad Negan into beating one of us into the ground again. Those of us who hadn't seemed to be praying for Rick to tell Negan to go to hell. Felt like Rick balanced between the two for way too long.
"Thank you," he said eventually.
"Don't be ridiculous," Negan said, satisfied. "Thank you. Let's move out!"
They shoved me toward the back of the van. Like I was another piece of his damn cargo. Rick stood at the open gates and watched me go. His eyes met mine, and I tried to silently thank him for trying to get me back. I don't know if he got it, but he stayed there, looking at me while we drove off. I watched as Rick, who was more of a brother to me than Merle had ever been, shrank into the distance with the place that had been our home.