Zedler, M.D. // Daryl Dixon

Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Iron

•ninety-nine•

Beatrix

Negan seems to pay no mind to Daryl, his face hardening at the sound of the gunshot. He glares at Rick before turning on his heel and motioning for us to follow him. I stand still, unable to move, while he walks away.

"Trixy," Daryl mutters from beside of me, his hand brushing against my back for a moment.

His touch is enough to break me from my trance of anger enough to get my body moving, following after Negan. There's nothing in this world I want more than to be able to hug him right now, but I can't, and the faint feeling of his fingers brushing against me lingers on my back until we get to the infirmary.

By the time Daryl, Baxly and I make it there, Rick and Negan are already inside. My heart sinks when I see them standing inside with Carl, who is the one holding the gun. I just hope he didn't actually shoot anybody.

We stay outside and wait, standing on the porch and waiting. When they come back outside, my heart sinks to hear that Negan is going to take all of our guns, their guns. As soon as I'm close enough, I wrap my arms around Carl and hold him close. He stands still, not hugging be back, but that's okay. I know he's angry.

I stay back while Rick and Negan head to the armory. I have no interest in going to watch it happen. I sit on the porch with Carl and Enid, and of course Fat Joey has to keep watch over us and make sure I don't, I don't know, pull a gun out of my ass and sneak it to Carl.

Soon after, Rick calls a community meeting, but I stay on the porch. I'm obviously not a part of the community anymore, and Negan wouldn't be too happy to see me go, so I don't. It's easier if I just play along.

"Sweetheart, you wanna have a little fun while we wait?" Negan smirks and tilts my chin up to look at him once he sees me standing on the infirmary porch alone. Daryl stands behind him, and I can see him clenching his fists tightly. "I can get someone to watch the door for us, make sure nobody interrupts us."

"No, thanks," I grimace, but I quickly cover it up with a fake gag, acting like I'm getting ready to throw up. "I'm gonna be sick."

"It's the morning sickness. It's worse with twins," Enid saves the day, hurrying over to hold my hair back while I fake gag, doubled over and holding my stomach. "Just let it out, Bea."

"Somebody get her a trash can," Negan pinches his nose and turns away. I continue to gag until Fat Joey shows up with a trash bag. Once I have it under me, I force myself to throw up, which isn't too hard. I have a lot of material to think about. "God damn! That is gnarly. I hope you aren't gonna throw up on me for the next nine months."

I don't say anything as he starts to drone on and on about how I'm pregnant and he can't wait to meet our babies. (Our babies? The thought makes me want to hurl again.) The only thing I can think about at this point is how in the hell Daryl is controlling himself. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't keep my cool like he is. I would have lost it ten times over by now.

Finally, Negan shuts the hell up when he sees Rick coming back to hand over the missing guns. I stay quiet and keep my mouth shut while they talk about getting everyone on board. Eventually, after Negan has decided he's taken everything he wants to take, the Saviors load up the trucks and get ready to head back to the Sanctuary. I follow behind Negan, like a lost puppy, as he walks to the gates. He talks to Rick for a minute before Rick runs past him and into the shack right outside the gates.

"I thought she was out scavenging, but she was hunting," Rick says once he gets back, handing over the rifle in his hands to Negan. "This one never made it in the gates. We kept it on the outside."