𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 -Negan x Reader

•23•

"There's no other exit. Fuck!", Negan's voice booms over the sound of the dead snarling and beating against the door.

"They must have been drawn in by the gunfire the other day. It was a ghost town.", you explain starting to dissociate as you stare at the barricade.

You hear him pacing behind you, trying to rummage his brain for just a sliver of an idea. The glass windows start to pop and crack under the pressure of all the bodies pushing against it.

"We're going to have to fight them. One at a time. Open the door and pick them off as they come in.", you offer, prying your eyes from the barricade and training them on a seemingly distraught Negan.

"Your arm is fucked up. Are you sure you can take them?"

You nod, slipping the sling off to achieve better mobility.

"We don't really have any other option."

"You've got some man-sized fucking lady balls.", Negan half chuckles, readying Lucille.

He pulls a knife from the sheath of his belt and extends it out to you. You take it and follow him to the barricade. The glass is splintering at a faster rate now. Your heart begins to thump in your ears. Adrenaline courses through your body as you look at Negan who's on the other end of the barricade, waiting for the green light.

"Now!", he shouts.

The both of you heave the shelf from the door and brace yourselves for the incoming herd. They spill in through the doorway, taking the pressure off the windows. Their pungent smell instantly fills the room. You drive the knife into the eye socket of the first one, kicking its limp body aside. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Negan bashing their heads in with Lucille. You stab and push them off as hard as you can. Their black rotten blood splatters all over both of you. Your muscles burn and your wound stings with each swift drive. The stack of bodies grows with each one that steps in through the door. They begin to trip over their dead pack mates.

You miscalculate your jab and get your knife stuck in one's skull. The waves of bodies piling through the door doesn't cease. More of the dead pile on you, pushing you up against the wall. You use the one caught on the knife as a shield. They gnash their black teeth almost clipping your skin. You faintly hear Negan call your name out over the sound of the dead. With your back so tightly pressed on the wall, you feel Dwight's gun pushed into your back. With your free hand, you pull it from your waistband.

Frantically, you chamber a bullet and shoot the three that have you pinned, brain matter spraying the ceiling. With your foot on its face, you rip the knife from its skull just in time to kill the next one before it sank its teeth into your flesh.

-

The ride home is mostly silent. Both of you are exhausted and covered in sweat and blood. Pain prickles through your shoulder from over-exerting your arm. The stitches are more than likely ripped out, but you're too tired to care. If torn stitches and sore limbs are all that scathed you in the fight, that's more than a miracle.

Upon coming up the driveway, you notice a motorcycle parked out front by the porch. Uneasiness pools in your gut and your heart sinks. You don't have any fight left in you after the herd.

"Is that Dwight?"

Negan seems to have noticed something you didn't. Scanning the porch, you see him standing up from one of the rocking chairs. A look of relief washes over his scarred face.

"I gave him the address.", you tell him as he puts the car into park, never peeling his eyes from Dwight.

"You do realize that puts you in danger, right? Someone could follow him here."