I Think I Know Where This Is Going, And I’m Not Mad About It.

This is the most wholesome thing on the internet.

They think it's a baby cow 🥹

you will live and you will say the wrong things and make mistakes and people will love you anyways.

I’m hooked on this series. So ready for the next piece!

Look for the Light - 6

Masterlist

Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.

Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (I know this took a while and I'm sorry for that. I have somewhat strayed from the main storyline now but you will see why soon ♥️)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You were frantic as you desperately tried to keep Joel's blood inside him. His blood-curdling scream as you pressed the bloody rag in your hands onto his stomach had you sobbing.

"Stay with me, Joel." You choked as you glanced at the man.

His head pressed back onto the towel under it, the veins in his neck prominent and his skin three shades whiter than usual. Ellie sat in the corner, anxiously chewing her thumbnail as she watched you work on Joel. Her eyes filled with tears as the man cried out with each poke and prod.

Joel looked up at you, his bottom lip quivering as he weakly watched you panic. His heart ached to tell you that it was going to be okay but he knew it wouldn't. He was losing blood quickly and was almost certainly going into shock. If that didn't kill him, the infection from his wound would. His time was up and he knew it.

"Leave." Joel choked, tears welling in his eyes as he watched you continue to try and save him "Leave." He repeated a little more forcefully and you scoffed.

"Shut up, Joel."

"Take the gun."

"Joel shut the fսck up!" Ellie growled and she crawled to his side and took his hand in hers. "You go." He said with a little more force, shoving Ellie back before trying to do the same to you "You go. You go north. You go to Tommy." He forced out, his breath coming in short pants and had him feeling dizzy "You go." He said one more time, eyes watching as Ellie got up and stormed up the stairs in a fit of rage.

"We're not leaving you here to die Joel." You growled, ignoring Ellie's outburst "Don't be stupid."

"Please." He all but whispered to you "Please get her to safety."

"Joel-"

"This is the last thing I will ask of you." He interrupted, tears falling freely now "I'm as good as dead baby." He choked, the term of endearment making your heart skip "Please, just take her back to Tommy. She'll be safe with him."

"Joel." You sobbed, taking his hand and squeezing it.

Suddenly everything that had happened in the last few months. All the guilt you felt for the animosity and anger you directed towards the man for the past three or so months suddenly consumed you. You realised you still loved him. That was painfully clear now as you held his bloody hand in your own.

"Please darlin'." He pleaded again "I've made so many mistakes... with you, Tommy and especially with Ellie but I need to die knowing she's safe."

"You're not going to die Joel." You growled, unable to admit that he was indeed dying.

Your mind wandered to the conversation you'd shared with him when you'd left Jackson. How bitter you had been towards him for his choice to leave her with Tommy in the first place. You'd known that he was just trying to do the right thing but you were so angry that you'd chosen not to acknowledge that.

Now he could die thinking you blamed him.

You woke early and sat with Ellie as she waited for Tommy to turn up. Joel had been gone by the time you'd woken up that morning and you'd found yourself feeling even more angry about that fact. The man was a coward if he had just run out on you both rather than at least say goodbye.

When Tommy stepped into the room Ellie had called hers for the night, you both stood and walked out, not a word being shared between the three of you as you made your way to the stables. When you walked into the dimly lit structure, your feet stopped dead in their tracks as you came across Joel, saddling a horse with days worth of supplies. When his gaze drifted up to look at the three of you, you could see the conflicted look in his eyes and your shoulders dropped. He was a complicated man and you knew that.

"You came here to say goodbye or something?" Ellie growled as she glared at the man, eliciting a snort from you.

"No. I came here to steal one of these horses and go." Joel confessed, glancing at you and Ellie before settling on Tommy.

"I woulda gave you one." Tommy piped up.

"I know." Joel sniffed "Anyway... that was 30 minutes ago, and I guess..." he trailed off, looking at Ellie and taking a few ginger steps towards her "You deserve a choice. I still think you'd be better off with Tommy..."

"Let's go." She interrupted, shoving her bag in his arms unceremoniously before walking up to the horse.

"Okay."

"Let's get your horse saddled up." Tommy directed at you and you gave him a small nod before waiting for him to lead the way.

Stepping off you were stopped by a hand on your arm and you didn't have to look up to know who it was. You let out a steadying breath as you waited for him to speak, anger simmering beneath the surface.

"Can we talk?" He asked and you groaned.

"I need to get my horse ready."

"It will just be a moment." He pushed, his tone pleading and you sighed, giving him a slight nod. He led you outside and around the side of the stable, his hand finally letting go of your arm as he shoved them both into his pockets.

A tense silence settled over you both for a moment which only made you more impatient for him to spit out whatever he had to say to you. So when you'd finally had enough of the awkward silence and nervous glances you forced it out of him.

"Whatever you want to say to me Joel, spit it out."

"I want you to stay here." He stated, his hands leaving his pockets and falling to his sides.

"What?"

"I think you should stay here." He repeated "Ellie and I can head to the Fireflies alone from here. You've done your part."

"Excuse me?"

"Please don't do this..."

"Do what?" You growled "I didn't stay with you both for my own amusement. I didn't go through hell just for you to dump me because you can't handle being around me anymore."

"That's not..."

"It's obvious that you've wanted rid of me since I lost the baby." You growled "I have stuck with you through everything. If I hadn't followed you so blindly I would still be pregnant but because of some false sense of loyalty to you, I did. I followed you into hell and I lost my..."

"You blame me for the miscarriage?" He choked and you scoffed.

"Yes." You replied plainly, your expression stony "Yes I do." You finished before leaving him standing out in the snow.

He watched you leave. His ears started to ring and he knew what was about to happen. These attacks had started to increase in frequency since leaving that old couple's shack a few days ago. His heart felt sluggish and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't catch his breath.

The longer he struggled, the more he panicked.

How was he supposed to protect you and Ellie if one conversation sent him spiralling? The idea of losing you, because he wasn't strong enough to keep you safe, had his knees starting to give out beneath him. His brothers calling him pulled him from his panic attack.

"You alright brother?" Tommy asked, his brows pulled together as he watched his older brother straighten his spine and look up at you, Ellie and Tommy.

"Yeah." He replied, giving you all a nod before walking over to his horse. He spared you a brief, wounded look and you couldn't help the brief pang of guilt that washed over you.

You hadn't really meant what you had said to him. You didn't blame him for the baby.

Your tears flowed freely then as you returned to the present moment. Joel was watching you through hooded eyes, his fight to stay conscious getting the better of him. You looked down at him, eyes locking in an intense gaze and at that moment what you did next was the only thing that made sense. You kissed him.

"I don't blame you." You sobbed as you pulled away from him "I need you to know that."

"I know." He choked, nodding weakly but you shook your head.

"No, I don't think you do." You wept "I know you've been hurting too and I shouldn't have treated you the way I have."

"Baby-"

"I need to say this Joel." You interrupted "I love you. I have for a long time and I need you to know that."

Joel was rendered speechless.

He lay there, whole body shaking as his silent tears leaked from the corner of his eyes. A small, almost invisible, smile tugged at his lips as he looked up at you.

"I love you too."

You leaned down and kissed him again. Your tears mixed with his own as you rested your forehead on his. Ellie's abrupt entrance into the basement had you leaping back like you were a teenager getting caught doing something you shouldn't.

"I found this." Ellie announced as she showed you a needle and thread.

Dropping to Joel's side she handed you what she'd found before looking at him and taking his hand again. This time though he didn't push her away. They shared a silent conversation as he squeezed her hand and gave her a weak smile.

"Hold him down." You instructed as you pinched wiped his wound as clean as you could make it and pinched the torn flesh between your fingers.

Joel didn't scream when the blunt needle pierced his flesh. Instead, he gripped Ellie's hand tighter and arches his back as he tried to internalise the pain.

"Breathe Joel." Ellie urged as she stroked his hair in an attempt to calm him "It'll be over before you know it."

Breathing meant Joel couldn't keep it in anymore. He yelled and cried as you sew him up with as much care and speed as you could muster. Then, just as you were about to finish up he went limp.

"Joel?" Ellie called out as she cupped his face "Joel, open your eyes."

She was frantic which only made you panic more. Finishing up you quickly reached up with a shaky hand and placed two fingers on his neck, breathing a sigh of relief when you found a weak pulse.

Ellie looked at you with tearful eyes and you gave her a weak smile "He's alive." You stated as you wiped your brow with your sleeve "Just passed out."

"He going to be okay?" She asked and you shook your head as you pulled down his undershirt down over the new rag you'd placed to soak up and other blood.

"I don't know." You answered honestly "I've closed the wound up the best I can but we need antibiotics. Without them, he'll likely get an infection. That needle wasn't clean and no doubt, neither was the bat that did this."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that really we need to get him back to Jackson asap or he's going to die." You stated plainly.

...

Joel shivered on the filthy mattress he was laid out on. Since losing consciousness, he had not regained it. You and Ellie took it in turns to watch over him. Dabbing his brow with a snow-soaked rag and whispering words of comfort to him as he twitched and whimpered in his sleep.

Glancing to your left, you noted that Ellie had managed to get to sleep. The teenager had been worrying and fretting over every little sound that left Joel for the last 12 hours. She would shut her eyes, only to wake as soon as the smallest sound slipped from his lips. Joel's delirious mumbling pulled her gaze back to him. His teeth were chattering so much you were worried his teeth would shatter. Placing a hand on his brow, you winced at the heat that radiated from his flesh. You pulled his thick jacket off of him, knowing he needed fewer layers right now. You had noticed a rolled-up picnic blanket when you had gone in search of more towels so got up as quietly as you could and scaled the basement to grab it, placing it over his legs and up to his elbows.

"C-c-cold." Joel muttered, his teeth chattering as the shakes wracked his whole body and your heart broke as you watched him suffer. Even in his unconscious state, he was still suffering.

"I know Joel." You whispered as you lay yourself down beside him and placed your head on his chest. You could hear the weak beating of his heart and your own shattered. He was so very weak and you knew he was slipping away.

He needed medicine or he wasn't going to make it.

...

"Why won't he stop shaking?" Ellie asked as she watched you clean his wound, grimacing at the infected state it was in.

"Because his wound is infected." You stated simply "He's probably suffering from Sepsis." You stated plainly as you pulled his soiled shirt down and sat back on your legs "If it gets into his bloodstream, he'll die."

"What can we do?" She asked and you let out a long sigh.

"Honestly?" She nodded and you dropped your head to stare at your hands in your lap "He's not well enough to ride but without Antibiotics he's going to die." You stated plainly "The way I see it we have two options "We can try and get him back to Jackson and hope that he makes it the week it'll take us to get there."

"Or?"

"Or we try and see if we can find some antibiotics nearby." You finished " Looks like all the houses have been pilfered so I doubt we'll find anything."

"So we move him." Ellie stated plainly "We made it here in five days, we can get back just as quickly."

"We made it in five days because we were all fit and well." You sighed "With Joel in the condition he's in, it'll slow us down."

"What other choice do we have?" She asked and you shook your head.

"None."

Getting Joel's dead weight back onto the makeshift stretcher you and Ellie had created had been difficult. Whereas before, Joel had regained consciousness and had managed to limp into the basement. You and Ellie had had to carry his comatose form up the stairs and onto the mattress stretcher that was now strapped to the back of Ellie's horse. You had managed to pad the stretcher more, meaning that Joel would not feel the journey as badly as he had before.

Now, six days later, you could see the tall walls of Jackson come into view. You breathed a sigh of relief as you glanced down at the still-unconscious Joel. He had not woken the entire trip and his fever had reached new highs. He was stripped down to little more than this undershirt and jeans now in a desperate attempt to keep his temperature down but the longer he went without medicine, the closer he crawled to death.

"We made it Joel." Ellie called out as she nudged her horse to walk again "Just hold on old man."

You followed her lead, wishing you could move a little faster. What felt like an age later you were within shouting distance of the gates. So you and Ellie yelled at the top of your lungs for help. When you made it through the gates you were begging the guards to fetch Tommy as you dismounted and dropped to Joel's side, fussing over the unconscious man as your tears fell freely.

The sound of frantic footsteps wasn't enough to pull your attention away from your lover. Tommy's choked question was though.

"What the hell happened?" He asked as he dropped to his knees, hands waving over his brother's form as he took in how sick he looked.

"We were ambushed at the school." You answered "The fireflies were long gone but some raiders were scouting the area. He got stabbed with a broken bat."

Joel's guttural yell pulled all of you to look at him and in the blink of an eye, his whole body had gone rigid. The convulsions tore through him violently. His eyes were white slits as his back arched and his limbs flailed.

"What's wrong with him?" Ellie asked as she cried openly "Joel?"

"He's seizing." Someone knew said "The infection is getting the better of him." They stated as Joel's body started to still "We need to get him to the hospital. Without medicine, this man is hours away from succumbing to it."

Tommy said nothing, just watched numbly as his brother was loaded onto a stretcher and then lifted off the ground. You all followed wordlessly as he was carried into the building that had been repurposed as a hospital. There were beds lining each wall, curtains parting each one. One or two had occupants but mostly, the hospital was empty. The medic led you all further into the hospital and through a door and into a long, wide, hallway. Opening the second door on your left, the medic held it open so that the other could carry Joel inside.

"Lay him down on the bed." The medic ordered as he washed his hands then grabbed some gloves "I need you all to clear the room."

"But-"

"I will fetch you once he is stable." The medic interrupted and the men that had carried Joel then ushered you out of the room.

You watched through the window as his clothes were cut away, revealing the gruesome wound that was swiftly killing him. You choked on a sob as the doctor started to cut the stitches you had done over a week ago, not because of the work you had put into them but because Joel didn't even flinch.

"Come on." Tommy said softly as he lead you away from the door and towards the main hospital "Watching ain't going to do anyone any good."

"I can't lose him, Tommy... I can't-"

"You won't." He assured you as he pulled you into his arms "Joel's persistent! Gonna take a lot more than a splinter to kill him."

This made you chuckle. You pulled away and smiled up at him, allowing him then to guide you to a set of chairs in another room. Sitting you then noticed it.

The blood.

It was all over you.

Your clothes, under your nails. It was even crusted in the ends of your hair and you felt sick to the stomach. All this blood that should be inside of Joel was all over you.

"Come, let's get you back to the house where you can shower and change." Tommy said upon noticing you staring at your hands.

"But Joel-"

"Docs gonna be working on him a while." Tommy stopped you "You have time to wash and change. Someone will fetch you if anything changes."

You nodded, eyes then drifting to Ellie who was looking to you for guidance. You wish you could give it to her. Wished you could be strong for her but you couldn't. You knew Joel's chances weren't good. The infection had almost certainly reached his blood by now.

Even with medicine, it was down to him to fight this.

And you weren't sure he could.

Next

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Thank, author, you for this 🥵

MORE FREEUSE JOEL PLEAKSE

Bail (Free use)

850 words / Joel x f!Reader / master

CW: unsafe P in V, consensual somnophilia, consensual objectification, very light manhandling. Sleep anon. I8 mdni

Joel gets a call from Tommy in the middle of the night. Again. He’s pissed but tries not to wake you up as he goes to bail Tommy out. When Joel gets back, he’s tense and wound up and knows he won't be able to sleep for a while.

But you. You're resting peacefully, head on your pillow. Fast asleep, not a care on your pretty face. You turn over and sigh in your slumber, and Joel twitches with the knowledge that this beautiful creature is his. All his. And your body is all he needs to calm down.

He carefully undresses. He doesn't feel like talking and prefers to let his intrusion wake you up. By the time he’s nude, he's at full mast, hand wrapped around his swollen shaft, in desperate need of release. He pulls down the comforter leaving just the sheet on top of you.

"Cold," you mumble and curl up in a ball.

“Shhhhh. I’m comin’, baby.”

Joel slides into the bed behind you and you stir in your sleep. "What happened?" You murmur.

"Shhhhhh. It's okay." He'd really rather you not talk. You settle again with a little sigh.

You're curled up on your side. He slides his hand down your side and lets out an exasperated sigh when he reaches your panties.

"Why to bed," he mutters to himself.

He grabs a handful your ass, can't help himself, and takes your panties down. He yanks the bottom side of them out from under you and tugs them down almost to your knees to make room for himself.

He presses his warm chest against your back, then he uncurls your body. He aligns your legs with his so he can feel your soft, smooth skin against his lightly hairy legs. He gets frustrated with the panties, tugs them down past your knees, then uses his foot to push them off altogether and fixes your legs again. He reaches around and presses on your mound to tilt your hips for access, then he dips his middle finger into your pussy to see how wet you are. He gathers saliva and spits into his fingertips. That'll do until your body obliges. He wets his cock, nestles the tip at your entrance, then wraps his arm over you.

He holds you so your back is firmly against him for leverage, then sinks his stiff member into your tight little hole as far as it'll go. You sigh and the sweet sound makes him swell even harder. His forearm and elbow dig into your torso as he pushes further and you moan as he bottoms out, filling you up completely. You're probably waking up now, but mercifully, you don't squirm or say anything.

Your warmth wrapped around him sends a rush through his body. On another night, he might stay just like that. Have you keep his cock warm all night. But he has too much pent up tension.

His first few thrusts are slow, letting your wetness gather around his cock. And when it's slick enough, he picks up the intensity, ramming all the way into you every second or so with a grunt. He gropes your tits as he pounds you with all his pent up frustration. The force of his hips moves you up toward the headboard until he takes his hand from your breast and curls it around your shoulder instead, pulling you down on his cock as he pistons into you faster and harder.

-

Fully awake now, you silently extend your own hand to brace yourself on the headboard. You tilt your hips to help his angle and he breathes, "fuck, perfect" as he pummels you with his full length. He slows down the rhythm but adds even more power, slamming into you over and over, to the hilt each time. The intensity is startling but welcome. He's obviously fucking away some frustrations so he can sleep. It's not the first time and it won't be the last. You don't mind waking up to the stretch of his girth when he fucks you this good.

He holds you tight, cupping a breast. He breathes heavily, vocally, grunting, "Mm" each time your bodies are flush, or "Ah." The head of his cock nudges the right spot inside you and you twitch, then contract around him.

"Shit," he whispers. He's not done pounding his frustration into you, and he knows he won't be far behind when you come.

You try not to make a noise but a soft sigh spills out as you're riding your high. He grabs desperately at your breasts and gnaws wetly at the nape of your neck as he plunges into you hard and deep. Then groans as he bottoms out and pulses heavily inside you, spilling his seed in huge bursts. He sighs and his arm loosens around you.

After a couple of minutes, the rhythm of his breathing slows. As his dick softens inside you, his cum begins to trickle out. You slowly, carefully start to reach for a tissue, not wanting to disturb him. But his arm tightens before you can move an inch. He would let you move if you said something, but instead you stay put and relax into him.

"I love you, baby," he whispers sleepily into your hair.

"Love you, too."

Within minutes, he's snoring.

-

Use the #free use!Joel☠️ tag for previous stories with this Joel. For free use OF Joel look at my objectification HCs.

As always, thank you so much for your engagement! 🖤 I always notice and appreciate every comment and reblog even if I don't comment.

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Justified, pt. 2

The final piece of the Negan series.

Warnings - some language, implied smut, 18+ only.

It took me a long time to write this one - I kept going back and forth on who she was going to choose. I hope you all like the ending. As always, feedback is welcome! Thanks for reading along.

She hadn’t expected to see him here, in the Kingdom. But then, she did tell him not to go to Rick. She hadn’t known where he would end up, the Kingdom was as probable as any of the nearby settlements.

She didn’t know what they must have thought of her here, opening the gates to find her leading an army of their enemy, begging for help and shelter. It took a long time to convince them of her story. King Ezekiel finally conceded that while she might be telling the truth, they could not take in this many people. He did help them scout out a few buildings nearby, big enough to fit all the Saviors (ex-Saviors?) for a few days. He was gracious enough to provide them food for those few days too. The workers from the Sanctuary who had caught up with them later brought a big stash of food as well, so that took a little of the pressure off.

She’d wanted to ditch them all on their journey to the kingdom, and she thought seriously about doing it. She could easily just excuse herself to the woods to relieve herself and then just keep going. But convictions wouldn’t let her. She’d started this – she’d won their allegiance and their support enough to abandon their best chances at survival. She’d convinced them to turn against Negan and follow her. She was responsible for them now, no matter how much she did not want to be. The Kingdom was the only place she could think to take them, and she’d hoped she could pawn leadership of them off on Ezekiel, but he’d made it clear that would not happen.

Exiting his crown room – an old school theater – after a few long hours of arguing and planning with the helpful King, she paused to breathe. A heavy sigh escaped her as she pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated that she would have to continue in this position of leadership for the time being.

“Heard you were here,” a deep voice grunted behind her. Surprised, she whirled to find the source of the familiar voice and found herself face to face with Daryl. He was leaning against the wall beside the door she’d just come out of. He looked as gorgeous as she’d ever seen him, muscular arms bare in his cut off sleeves, his hair recently washed, and his wounds from the Sanctuary healed. She didn’t move, but took in every inch of him, checking him for injuries or signs of anything wrong. Satisfied that he was unharmed, she half jumped to clear the space between them, embracing him so hard he would have fallen over had he not already been supported by the wall. He wrapped his arms around her too, hesitantly at first, and then tighter until she could barely breathe. She didn’t care.

The hug seemed to last for minutes, and she only let go enough to move her face to his, instinctively leaning toward his mouth with hers. Before the kiss landed, guilt dropped on her like a ton of bricks, and she found herself pulling away to search his face instead.

“You’re okay?” she asked, brushing hair from his face to see him better.

He met her eyes for only a second before looking at the ground and he responded, “yeh, I’m a’ight.”

There was a tense pause, she had so much she wanted to say to him, so much she wanted to explain, so much she knew would hurt him. She couldn’t find the words, and right now she didn’t have the time.

“I need to see Rick,” she told him, breaking the long silence. “Will you take me?”

“Yeh,” he responded with no hesitation, “I’ll get the bike ready and meet you at the gate in a few minutes.”

As she watched him walk away, her heart ached. She had given so much of herself to free him, and she would do it all again without question. But the stuff that came after… would he love her if he knew? Would she be able to let him? He deserved so much better.

She pushed the thoughts and the lump in her throat down as she walked to the gate to meet Daryl.

--------

Her hand touched the doorknob in front of her. She yanked it back, looking around her in confusion. She didn’t remember walking here. She had set out from the Grimes’ house for the infirmary to see if there were any tampons there - thanking whatever higher power had kindly prevented her from getting pregnant. She and Negan hadn’t exactly been careful about that. She must have gotten lost in thought, and now she was staring at the entrance to the basement where Negan was kept in a cell.

She’d been back in Alexandria for a few days and had effectively avoided getting within twenty yards of this door. She was confused and slightly irritated that she’d somehow ended up here without thinking. Shaking her head to clear it, she turned to resume her journey to the infirmary.

“I can see your shadow from the windows of the door,” she heard Negan call from inside. “I’m in a cage, you don’t have to be afraid to come in. I know you all want to spit in my face!”

She blew a deep breath out and opened the door. She knew nothing good could come of this, but something deep within her pushed her forward.

“Well, if it isn’t my lovely wife,” Negan cooed as she came into view. “I was wondering when my conjugal visits would begin.” He grinned that wicked Negan grin, and she forced herself not to return it – she’d grown to enjoy his dark sense of humor during their time together.

“I’m not your wife,” she replied curtly, “and definitely not here for that.”

“Well, your tune sure has changed,” Negan answered. “If you aren’t here to bang one out, why are you here?”

“Honestly,” she said hesitantly. She knew she shouldn’t continue, but that same thing that pushed her in here kept her talking, “I’m not sure. Maybe part of me wanted to taunt you, to see the fruits of all my labor.”

Negan looked her over for a long moment.

“Or,” he replied, his dark eyes surprisingly soft, “maybe part of you wanted to see if I was okay - if we were okay, after you put me in here. Maybe you’re lonely, and realizing you miss me a little. The reunion isn’t going quite how you hoped, is it?”

She studied his face. She found no trace of mocking, only a knowing look. Her days here had been harder than expected. Rick had welcomed her with a warm hug, and they’d been deliberating for days about what to do with the large group of Saviors now in need of a leader. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t quite trust her. In fact, there was a tension between her and everyone here. She seemed to find herself alone at mealtimes, the Grimes family having either just finished eating as she came in or eating at someone else’s home. They never invited her along. She offered help around the compound whenever she wasn’t in a meeting with Rick, but no one accepted it, claiming they had everything they needed. Maggie was the only one who didn’t seem to hate her. She’d wept when she saw Maggie, alive and well, and hugged her until Maggie complained she couldn’t breathe. They cried together for Glenn, and Maggie made her feel hopeful, like she was still one of them. But she had only seen her that one day, before Maggie returned to Hilltop. And Daryl… well, Daryl was a whole different heartache. They technically shared their previous bed, but he never joined her there at night. Most nights he was still out when she went to bed, and most mornings he was gone before she rose. There was a neat stack of blankets and a pillow on the couch downstairs that told her where he’d been sleeping.

Her face must have reflected these thoughts because when Negan spoke again, he was gentle.

“You don’t fit here as easily as you did before, right?” She met his eyes but didn’t respond.

“It’s because you don’t. You never did,” he continued, “it was a nice thought back then, right? A group of people who loved each other and made each other better? They even made you better… but those people didn’t love you. They loved what you could bring to the table. They loved what they could make you into, who they could change you to be and control you.”

“And I suppose you think you’re better for me, right?” her voice was quiet, but the anger building behind them was unmissable. “Am I supposed to believe you loved me?”

“I think you know the answer to that, y/n, or you wouldn’t be here,” he replied, less gentle now. “And I think you loved me, too. It felt good, right? To be seen for who you are, not who someone wants you to be? You didn’t have to work to be anyone but yourself. I have seen the real you, and the real you flourished with me. You know why? Because we are the same, you and me. We both know that.”

“No,” she said, louder this time, “we don’t. It was a mistake coming in here.” She turned to leave.

As she reached for the door Negan aimed his final shot, “you know once he knows you loved me it will be over. How could he love the girl who fell for the guy who killed his friends and put him through hell?” He hit his mark.

She forced her chin to remain high and her shoulders to refrain from slumping as she left and held that position until she reached her room in the Grimes’ home where she stayed until nightfall.

--------

That night didn’t bring much sleep. Negan’s words haunted her. He’d said she loved him. It echoed in her head louder than anything else. She didn’t love him, right? How could she, after all he’d done? But then, there was all she’d done, too… She’d seen a softer side to Negan, a glimmer of what he might have once been, before he embraced the monster in him.

When she did manage to drift off, her dreams were full of Negan, over and over she would find herself alone with him, in a lover’s embrace, and then suddenly he was a walker, biting her, taking her down with him. She would wake sweating and shaking.

She knew he was right…they were the same. She knew his monster because she had been fighting the same one in her since the world fell apart. Once Daryl knew the truth, he would never look at her the same. There was a good chance he would hate her. She wasn’t sure she didn’t hate herself.

After the third one of these dreams woke her, realizing the night would not bring rest, she sat up in bed rubbing her eyes.

“You a’ight?” She yelped and jumped at the sound of Daryl’s voice across the room. She turned on the bedside lamp to find him sitting in the armchair close to the door.

Her heart racing, she whispered, “I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he half-whispered, matching her volume. “I came to check on ya when I got in, you were tossin’ and turnin’ and hollerin’ some.”

“Sorry,” she admitted, “bad dreams.”

“Yeh, I get those, too” he said as he rose and made towards the door.

“Daryl,” she said a little louder, longing in her voice. “Stay.” He paused with his hand on the knob.

“Please.”

He slowly turned and after removing his shoes climbed into bed and sat beside her. They didn’t touch, and she didn’t turn off the lights.

They sat in silence for what felt like an hour.

She finally worked up the nerve to speak. She needed to tell him, needed him to know who she’d become in Negan’s thrall, and needed to see his response. She knew it would be awful, but if she didn’t face this now, she would go insane in the tension.

“Daryl,” she started, but he cut her off.

“I don’t need to know, y/n.”

“What?”

“I don’t need to know what hapn’d in there. I know it was bad, it was bad for me, too. But I know ya did what ya did to save me, and then to survive. ‘sall I need to know about it.”

She didn’t know what to say. She grabbed his hand, expecting him to pull away, but he let her hold it. He closed his hand around hers in response and looked her in the eye.

“We all have summin’ dark in us,” he said, his eyes gleaming with memories of his own, “what makes us different from him is we fight it. ‘n we fight it together. I’ll help ya fight it if you’ll let me.”

Speechless, she reached up to cup his cheek with her free hand and stared into his eyes for a long moment. She hoped he could read in her eyes everything she wanted to say but couldn’t find the words.

When she leaned in to kiss him, he met her halfway. They shared a long, passionate kiss, until desire swept them both under its current and they found themselves naked, tangled up in one another, moving in rhythm until they were both spent. She felt new - refreshed somehow, even though she hadn’t slept.

She raised herself up on one arm to look at his face. He was gazing at her, lazily combing through her unbound hair with his fingers.

“Can we leave here?” she asked him, her face earnest.

He sat up at that.

“Leave this room?” he asked.

“Leave Alexandria. We can go to the Kingdom, or Hilltop with Maggie. We can still be part of this,” she said, waving her hand, “just not in Alexandria?”

He studied her face for a long moment before asking, “why? Wus wrong w’ Alexandria?”

“I think,” she said slowly, trying to find the right words, “our people may need to heal before they will let me in again. I don’t know if I can be the town pariah long-term.”

He waited for more. She sighed, knowing he knew her well enough to see right through that answer.

“I can’t be here while he’s here, Daryl,” she said, now pleading with her eyes. “He… Rick will never move him out of that cell. I have a lot of healing to do, a lot to work through. You and I have a lot of healing to do together. I don’t think we can do that when he’s two blocks away.”

Daryl didn’t answer immediately. After a long pause he said, not meeting her eyes, “Rick needs me here. ‘stoo much to plan. Too much to do. Can’t leave.”

Her heart shattered. She needed the chance to start fresh with him. Needed it to be somewhere far away from Negan and the impossible hold he had over her. She could tell from Daryl’s face there would be no changing his mind.

--------

Daryl awoke with a strange sense that something was… off. He tried to call to mind what could be causing the unease, but nothing came. Things with y/n had been better since their late-night talk three nights ago. He was glad for that, the tension upon their return to Alexandria had been eating him alive. He’d heard enough talk from the Saviors during his captivity to know what Negan required of his wives, and the night Dwight walked him back to his cell on a strange route would never stop ringing in his ears. Dwight stopped him outside of a room he hadn’t seen before, but quickly learned – as the savior posted outside the door relayed to Dwight that Negan was busy inside – it was Negan’s room. As they turned to leave, a familiar moan made its way to Dwight’s ears. His heart stopped and his breath caught as he recognized the pleasurable sounds of her – he’d know those noises anywhere. He’d certainly enticed them out of her enough. She had been behind that door, making them for Negan. Daryl’s fists instinctively clenched at the memory. Dwight had grinned wickedly at him as he locked him in his cell that night, not even playing that god-awful song he’d been torturing him with. He left Daryl in silence to replay what he’d heard over and over.

Daryl knew that hadn’t been the last time she’d been with Negan while she was in his Sanctuary. He’d had a lot of time to work through that and the emotions it brought with it before she got out. They all came flooding back the first time he saw her again, and the guilt she wore plain as day in her eyes didn’t help. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t be around her without wanting to tear Negan’s throat out with his bare hands. So, he’d distanced himself. Until he saw how much she was struggling.

Everyone in Alexandria seemed to avoid her like she smelled bad. He watched as it wore her down, and even from a distance saw the demons she was battling. He’d been there before. He still had to fight demons and the person he’d been before all this. Merle had brought out the worst in him since childhood, and before his death it had been a constant battle not to slip into his old self. Daryl began to understand her struggle and found that each time he saw her slumped shoulders and haunted eyes, his heart ached for her more and more.

He’d forgiven her and was happy to move on. She’d seemed grateful enough for that the night they reconnected. Though things were better between them, she still seemed haunted. She tossed and turned beside him most nights, and when she did sleep almost always woke up shortly after, sweating or silently crying.

Daryl knew why. She’d told him. She’d all but begged him to leave with her so she could get away from Negan – be free of him for good. It stung like a blow to the face to realize Negan still affected her like that, and he’d told her no to spite her for it. He’d been regretting that since.

He turned over in bed to reach for her, wanting to hold her and smell her hair, the clean, light rose scent always calmed him – but the bed was empty. That wasn’t unusual, she often gave up trying to sleep sometime in the wee hours of the morning.

Still feeling somewhat uneasy, Daryl decided to find her. Maybe he just needed to talk to her to get his balance back.

An hour later he returned to their room, hopeful they’d just missed each other, and she was back in the house. Not finding her in their room or the attached bathroom, he moved downstairs to see if she was in any of the shared living spaces.

Daryl was returning to the kitchen from the back den when Rick bounded through the front door looking frenzied and angry. Daryl raised his eyebrows, silently questioning the sheriff.

“We got a problem,” Rick said, somewhat out of breath.

“What?” Daryl asked him audibly this time.

“Come with me,” was all Rick said before bolting back outside and down the steps of the porch. As Daryl moved to follow him, he saw something he hadn’t noticed earlier. Or rather, he didn’t see it – the bag and gun y/n hung from the mounted coat rack by the door was gone.

Daryl pushed that away to figure out later as he tried to catch up with Rick. He followed him straight to the basement that housed Negan in a cell. He braced himself for the worst as he pushed past Rick and through the door to investigate and saw – nothing.

Daryl cursed at the sight of the empty cell, the door swinging open, singing a taunting tune.

“Nothin’ was broken,” Rick said, “so someone had to let him out. Or he picked the lock somehow. But we are very careful about what goes into his cell with his food, someone would have had to help him either way.”

Daryl threw the cell door all the way open and stomped inside to look around. A yellow piece of paper folded and placed neatly on the cot caught his attention. He picked it up and carefully opened it, already certain what it would tell him.

I’m sorry. That was all it said.

“It was y/n,” Daryl said so softly Rick wasn’t sure he heard him right.  

“What? How do you know?”

Daryl handed him the note. “It’s her handwritin’.” The pen matched the note he’d found in his cell at the Sanctuary, and other little notes she’d left him around the house in their months before Negan.

At that moment, Michonne burst through the outer door. “Rick,” she managed to get out through her panting. They stared at her expectantly as she caught her breath.

“I was checking in on our supplies this morning,” she finally said once she could breathe. “There are a few guns missing, and a good bit of food. Enough for someone going on a run, but no one was scheduled to this week.”

Rick gave Daryl a knowing look.

“I ran to the front gate to see if Eugene knew anything. He told me Rosita had the night watch, but that y/n came out in the middle of the night and relieved her – told Rosita she couldn’t sleep anyway, she might as well be useful. When Eugene got to his post this morning, there was no one there. And a car is gone.”

Daryl stormed past them both and out the door, fuming. He was going to hunt them down. He’d kill Negan and be done with the evil bastard forever. And her. He didn’t know what he would do with her yet, but he knew he was done with her. This was twice she’d chosen him over Daryl – once when she snuck Daryl out and stayed behind. He watched her walk right to Negan like she belonged there. Now she’d not only let Negan out, but run off with him?

He didn’t notice Rick running up behind him until he spoke, “maybe you should let ‘em go, Daryl. She won’t let him come after us, anyway, she would never do that.”

“Naw,” Daryl huffed, “this is personal.” He reached his motorcycle and mounted it. He nearly peeled out as he left the house driveway and made for the gate of Alexandria. More of their people had gathered there, wanting to know what was going on.

He weaved past them on his bike and was about to shout at Eugene to open the gate when he noticed it was already half open, and someone was coming inside.

Daryl froze in confusion as he watched her walk inside. She’d come back. On foot? His heart was pounding in his chest, he didn’t know what to make of this.

She was sweaty and dirty, and had some walker blood on her, but he didn’t see any injuries on her as she walked past everyone’s questioning looks straight to Daryl on his bike.

“I guess y’all found my note,” she said with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. He didn’t return her smile.

“I’m sorry, Daryl,” she said, tears filling her eyes now. “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t stay with him here. But I couldn’t leave you, either. This was all I could think to do.”

Rick was beside them now. “You let him go?”

“Yes,” she said, not taking her eyes from Daryl’s. “I gave him food and a couple of weapons, blindfolded him, and drove as far away as possible, taking random turns and even backtracking, until the car ran out of gas. Then I told him to figure it out from there, but if I ever saw his face again, I’d shoot him on sight. I walked back. He didn’t follow me.”

Rick sighed heavily, then grasped her shoulder. “Well, then. That’s done.”

“Yes,” she said, smiling at little at Daryl now, “it is.” He nodded and couldn’t fight the returning smile creeping to the edges of his mouth.

She climbed on his bike, wrapped her arms more tightly around his waist than she needed to, and he drove them both home.

BRB, just inserting myself into all of @cultofdixon’s fic quotes with my boyfriend Daryl.

Y/N: *gifts Daryl a rock*

Daryl: The fuck am I supposed to do with this?

Y/N: Fuck I guess nothing. Give it back if you’re gonna be that way

Daryl: NO

reader pronouns: she/her

“Not everything can be solved with a knife,” Maggie said, watching you throw gear into your pack.

You stopped and looked at her. “I know. That’s why I always carry two,” you said, pulling both of your knives from their sheaths at your hips.

Daryl, standing in the doorway and watching the discussion, couldn’t stifle a gruff laugh in time despite the tense atmosphere. Maggie rounded on him, looking exasperated. “Daryl,” she pleaded, in hopes he could perhaps stop you.

He straightened up. “She needs to do this Maggie. But I’ll go with. Ya think I’d let her go off alone? Nah. Despite the two knives…” he said, one corner of his mouth twitching up.

Y/N: What house would you be in?

Carol: I think I’d be in Ravenclaw.

Y/N: I think I’d be in Gryffindor, for sure.

Daryl: The hell’re you two talkin’ ‘bout?

Carol: Harry Potter.

Y/N: What house would you be in, Daryl?

Daryl: Don’t give a hufflefuck. We got shit to do. C’mon.

Carol: Just confirmed he’s read it.

Y/N: Total Hufflepuff.

Daryl, from outside: Ain’t no Hufflepuff!

(Thank you, @shadowcitrine 🤣)

The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 3

A Negan Series

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Warnings - not too much in this one. Adult themes and some language.

Feedback is always welcome! This series is challenging me for sure, and I'm loving it. Every time I work on it it gets a little longer and starts heading a direction that was unexpected even to me. I hope you'll hang in with me! I think it'll be worth it in the end.

Three days. That’s how long she’d been here. Three days of watching, waiting, learning. Three exhausting days of pretending to want to be one of them and taking advantage of every second alone to search for Daryl, which hadn’t been many. Between the dinners with Negan, and being stuck in the wives’ room, she had only had a few hours yesteday and today to explore. Three damn days in the enemy’s home and all she had to show for it was a wedding ring. Married to a monster.

She had searched every hall she could reasonably claim that she’d gotten lost in while looking her room, or the bathroom, or the kitchen, or whatever else she could think of. After three days, that excuse was losing merit - she should be more familiar with this place by now. Her heart was racing as she tiptoed, barefoot, down another empty hall of closed doors, quietly trying each doorknob. Locked. Locked. Locked. Leaning her ear against the doors, she couldn’t hear anything or anyone inside.

She tried the next. Another locked door. She was starting to lose heart; this hall was yet again a dead end. Would she ever find where they were keeping him? She twisted the next knob – locked. She sighed, glancing at the next door, when something caught her eye. Light. Two doors down at the corner of the corridor, streaming into the hall from…an open door? She flattened herself against the door in front of her, quieting her breath and listening for any sound of someone in the open room. After several minutes frozen there, she tiptoed closer, stopping every few steps to listen again. As she approached, she noticed a red chair against the opposite wall. It sat empty, facing the open door. Flattened against the wall at the edge of the door she paused one last time, before slowly creeping around to peer in.

The apartment before her was small. There was a sink and counters against one wall, a single bed, a chair, and a metal rack of clothes – mostly flannel button down shirts. No people. She ducked inside to get a better look. The apartment was well stocked. A toaster oven, a tv, lamps, a bookcase full of books, and she noticed a few potted plants. The furniture was well used, but slightly dusty. There was no evidence of anything personal in this room, nothing bought or collected like the other rooms she’d snuck into. No evidence anyone had been here recently. This room was waiting for an inhabitant, she realized. She was about to turn and leave when she heard footsteps coming around the corner. Low voices, male, were growing closer.

Her heart racing, she quickly surveyed the room again, this time searching for the best hiding spot. Under the bed wasn’t an option, the mattress was laid on stacks of wood crates. There were not enough clothes on the rack to hide behind. The cabinets on the wall were too small for her to fold into. The footsteps were getting closer, she only had one option.

She ducked behind the solid door just as she heard a voice greet the approaching steps. “Dwighty boy” she heard, and dread filled her. That was Negan’s voice.  He instructed someone to leave so he could speak with Dwight, and she heard rustling of steps outside the door. She squeezed in close and peeked through the crack of the open hinged door. Her heart stopped.

There he was. Daryl. Three days, not even a hint or whisper of him, and now here he was, less than four feet away from her.

---

She’d hoped when Negan had agreed on her first night to let her try out for the Saviors that she’d be able to ask someone about Daryl. Or that she’d be able to talk to any of them at all, learn anything about the place. She’d had no such luck.

She awoke on her second day in the Sanctuary hopeful and eager to start exploring. She dressed in the most practical clothes she could find in her wardrobe, and even asked the guard at the wives’ door for some boots. He’d obtained them for her, just in time to dawn them before… sitting. And waiting. And waiting. She asked him if she’d been sent any instructions on where to go or who to meet with about training or a job. He told her that her orders would come. So, she’d continued to wait.

The wives had pulled her into different activities in the meantime. Scrabble was a favorite of Frankie’s, and they introduced her to their “spa day” ritual, which she gathered was every day. Homemade face masks, manicures, makeup before dinner. It seemed expected of them to be beautiful, and at least it was a way to pass the time. Her impatience grew, however, with every hour that passed. Each wife often left the dorm to walk around the compound, getting some movement and some air, or smoke a cigarette. They seemed to have unquestioned access to wherever they needed to go. She took advantage of that when it was obvious that she wouldn’t be missed. She’d come up empty handed on those brief searches, and each time she returned, she’d asked the guard if her orders had come. He’d just shook his head.

By the time the instructions came for her to join Negan for dinner a second night, she was fuming.

She stomped into his apartment with as much attitude as her high heels would allow, her arms crossed, demanding to know why she had been cooped up in that room all day when he’d agreed to let her be part of a Savior team.

Negan’s answering smile didn’t meet his eyes, and it made her uneasy.

“Good evening to you, too,” he drawled, holding out her chair at the table for her. “Would you like to eat before you continue to rip me a new asshole, or should we do this on empty stomachs?”

She huffed as she sat and began piling her plate with the potpie in front of her.

“We’ve only been married for a day and you’re already angry with me?” Negan teased her.

She willed herself calm and forced an apologetic smile on her face. She needed to stay on his good side, throwing a fit this early might raise questions or make him change his mind about her access. She needed Negan to trust her.

“I’m sorry,” she began, “I have always had a quick temper. I told you, I’m not great at sitting around. I got impatient. I apologize.”

Again, his answering smile didn’t meet his eyes, but he seemed satisfied with her apology.

“I’d like to play a game to start our evening,” he said after a quiet few minutes of eating. “To get to know one another a little better. We are married now, after all.”

“What game?” she asked around a mouthful.

“A drinking game,” he replied, standing and walking to his bar cart in the corner. When he returned, he brought two shot glasses and a decanter of an amber colored liquid.  “I’ll ask you a question, and if you answer - honestly - you get to ask me a question in return. If you don’t answer, or if I think your answer is unsatisfactory, you take a shot and I get to ask another question.”

“I see. And do the same rules apply to you?”

“Sure,” he replied, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I take the rules of games very seriously.”

This made her nervous. She had no way of knowing what he would ask. She could always skip the question if she didn't like it, but too many questions skipped would certainly raise suspicions. She steeled herself as she took her last few bites of food, preparing for the worst.

When she raised her head, she found Negan watching her. She nodded and plastered a smile to her face.

“Sounds sexy. Let’s play.”

He grinned as he poured two shot glasses of the drink and slid one across the table to her.

“My first question,” he said, “is how long were you part of Rick’s group?”

She silently released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She felt a little relief at how simple the question was. She recounted the basic story of coming upon Rick's group in a small church in Georgia several weeks before they found Alexandria, and traveling with them to Virginia, looking for the family of one of their guys.

“How did you all find Alexandria?” Negan asked as her short story came to an end.

“I think it’s my turn for a question,” she teased him, “unless you want to skip that do a shot?”

He grinned in response and gestured for her to ask her question.

This was more pressure than answering. It was a good opportunity to get information, maybe even find out where Daryl is, if she could ask casually enough... She would have to be very careful how she approached it. She decided to start slowly, not too eager to get telling information from him.

“How many communities do you have working for you?” She asked, after some contemplation. Maybe a train of questions that make her seem curious about his operation would seem less suspicious when she got to Daryl.

“A lot,” he answered proudly, “I won't waste time counting them all. It’s a lot though. It has to be, to feed all our people.” A lot. There were a lot of other communities nearby. Potential allies. She filed that information away for later.

“How did your group find Alexandria?” He asked again, now that it was his turn.

“They found us. Their scouts had been watching us on the road. All but starved to death, desperate, and nearly feral. They took us in and gave us jobs. Have you always been the leader of the Saviors?”

Negan’s dark eyes stared at his glass for a long minute. She wasn’t sure he was going to answer, when he finally said, “No, but the guy before me was weak, he didn’t know what he was doing. It’s been me for long enough, and we’re all better for it. You’ve seen what we’ve become. I got us here.”

There was a pause as she took in what he said. He wasn’t wrong. She didn't really want to be here, but she had to admit that it worked. People were safe and fed, and there was a sense of order. Had she found this before Rick’s group, she wouldn’t have hesitated to become part of it.

“If you only got there a month ago, how did Rick end up in charge?” Negan asked.

“Who said Rick was in charge?” she countered.

Negan gave her a pointed look.

“It wasn’t on purpose, necessarily. There was an attack from some crazy outside group – not your guys. A bunch of walkers got past the walls; lost a lot of people - including the town’s leader. Rick is just the sort of guy that others follow, so the natural option was for him to step into the role.”

She hesitated a moment. “What’s your plan for them?” she asked, risking the question. Hoping it felt like an organic follow up. Negan drained his shotglass, not giving anything away. Damn. “What’s your plan for Daryl?” she was risking even more, now, but she wasn’t sure she’d have an opening again.

“I lost a lot of good fighters,” he answered. “I need more, and I like his spirit. He’ll make a great Savior once I wear him down.” She buried the dread that rose in her at his words and willed her heart to stop pounding.

Now his turn, Negan asked her “Who is Rick’s secondhand man?”

Realization hit her like a slap to the face. She should have guessed sooner his purpose for playing this game. She’d been blind, too focused on her own agenda to bother considering his. She’d have to be more careful about her answers now. If she revealed too much about Rick or Alexandria, she could put her friends in even more danger.

“All these questions about Rick…” she said, with a raised eyebrow and a hint of seduction in her voice, “I’m starting to feel a little jealous…” She took her glass and threw the shot to the back of her throat. She coughed a little as she swallowed. Whiskey had always done that to her.

Negan searched her face before grinning and continuing, “I would hate to have my new wife feeling neglected this soon. Tell me, what did you do before the world fell?”

“That's more like it,” she said with a slight curl of her lip. “Although a little difficult to answer. I worked a lot of jobs; I was putting myself through grad school. Took as many part-time jobs as I could.  I had two semesters left, and was already working on my thesis when the outbreak began.”

“Psychology,” she added, as she saw him start to speak again. He confirmed that was his next question with a slight nod of his head. “Same question to you,” she asked, settling back in her chair to keep the room from spinning. She hadn’t done a shot in ages, and her time on the road left her smaller than she ever was during her college partying era. Another shot or two and she wasn’t sure she could trust herself to answer anymore questions.

“I worked with kids,” Negan responded. “Gym teacher and coach.”

She didn’t try to hide a look of surprise, which made Negan chuckle. “I get that a lot when I answer that question.” She would have to work through that information later, figure out what that said about him as a person. The types of people who chose teaching positions… well, it begged the question what had happened to form him into... this? She didn’t have time to flesh that thought out as Negan launched into his next inquiry.

“You studied psychology, and you spent some decent time with him… if you were me, what would your next move against Rick be?”

Shit. She walked right into that one. How was she so off her game tonight?

She searched his face for a minute, took the decanter of whiskey and filled her glass. She met his glare as she gulped the shot down, stifling her cough this time. As she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she said, “I left their group to join you, but I don’t hate them. I’ll follow orders out there, but you can’t expect me to plot against them in here.”

Negan chewed his lip as he studied her, narrowing his eyes. She waited for his next question or her dismissal. She hoped for the latter.

“If you were me, what would your next move against Rick be?” he asked again, a malicious tone encroaching his voice.

She filled her glass again, but Negan’s hand appeared on its rim, pressing it to the table as she tried to lift it. “I’d like you to answer this one.” He said, threat in his voice despite the polite smile he wore.

As she made to protest, he cut her off. “You see, you asked to be more than just my wife - which stung a little, I won’t lie. But I am a generous husband, I like my wives to be happy. They always did say, ‘happy wife, happy life.’ I’m not one to argue with an age-old adage, but in order to do that for you, to make you happy… give you a job, if that’s really what you want… I gotta know what value you bring. I gotta know if you can do more than just take orders - I have enough obedient dogs out there. You’ve seen the way they bow to me. I don’t need another dog. What I need… is a wolf. A wolf, or a wife. The choice is yours.”

She stared at him, working to keep the rage she felt from burning through her glare. Bastard.

“I’ll give you until dinner tomorrow. Come back with something good, and I do mean something impressive, or settle in as a stay home wife, dear. You asked what I’ll do with Daryl – I guess you get to make that decision. I’d like him to become one of us, but what I need is information, and if you don’t give it, then I’ll get it from him however I have to."

"You’re dismissed.”

---

She’d played that conversation over in her head too many times to count since returning to her room last night. She worked through all her options, even options that weren’t options. How could she live with herself if she gave him all her friends’ weaknesses? How could she live with herself if she didn’t?

Seeing Daryl now, slumped in that red chair, staring into the room she hid in - her heart broke. He was filthy, his hair a level of greasy that was bad even for Daryl. His eyes were cloudy, dark bags hanging under them like he hadn’t slept in days. She shuddered to think what could put him in such a state - her strong, tough Daryl. She knew he wasn’t breaking, but she couldn’t tell how much he had left in him. He was so ragged, so run down.

Her decision was made. She wouldn’t be the cause of more pain for him. She could never forgive herself for that. For him, she could turn into whatever she needed to be. For him, she could be a wolf.

They’d see just how much of a wolf she was.

Tagged by @green-eyedladywrites

Top 10 Comfort Movies (I love this!)

1- The Mummy

2- Beauty and the Beast (cartoon)

3- Labyrinth

4- Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

5- Mrs. Doubtfire

6- Sweeney Todd

7- The Princess Bride

8- The Lord of the Rings trilogy (counting as 1, cause I only watch them in marathon)

9- Ever After

10- Moulin Rouge

I am still getting to know people on here, I don’t know many! I’ll tag @princessa-xxx