wicked game . negan

03; little pig, little pig

She decided she'd stayed cramped up in that dark room for too long. She needed to stay strong like everybody else. She got up and trudged towards the door, weakly turning the lock to let him in. The door knob opened and he walked in, concern written all over his face.

She sat back down on the bed and fixated her eyes on the floor. Rick stayed frozen in the doorway, staring sympathetically at his weak and broken daughter.

"You don't need to do this to yourself, Vada," He spoke softly, not wanting to raise his voice too loud, aware that she hadn't spoken to anybody in days.

She said nothing.

"I'm not mad at you," He inched towards her and warily sat down on the bed, placing his hand on top of hers.

"Why not?" She spoke quietly.

"You're not the reason they died," His jaw clenched, "Whether or not you had snuck out, it would have ended the same way. He is the reason Abraham and Glenn are gone, he will always be the reason. Don't blame yourself for this."

She hadn't thought about it like that.

Rick continued, "You were just unlucky enough to meet him before everybody else."

She lifted her head and stared into her father's eyes. "You're right."

She brought him in for a hug, her head nuzzled into his shoulder. They stayed like that for a couple seconds, before Vada pulled away.

"I never thought I would run into anybody, let alone him," She sighed, "I just wanted to read. It's peaceful out there in the woods. I don't expect you to understand."

"I do," He nodded, "I know you can keep yourself safe, I've seen you in action."

She laughed and was about to bring him back in for another hug when the door swung open, cutting them off from their conversation. It was Olivia, a shaken look on her face. Vada's heart started to pound rapidly, afraid of another death, or worse.

"Rick, h-he's here, he's early," She stuttered. She stood to the side of the doorway to let Rick through.

The father looked at his fragile daughter. "Stay here, don't leave this room."

She nodded and pulled back into her former sitting position, knees against her chest and her back against the wall. The thought of Negan being in the same small town as her, the only place she was truly safe, sent shivers down her spine.

The door closed and she was left in complete darkness once again. The record continued to play, making an eerie scratching noise every few moments. The images of that night flooded her mind once more. She picked up her book and shone a flashlight on it.

She didn't know how much time had passed. It could have been an hour or two. She finished her book and placed it gently by her bed side. By that point, she was much more calm than she had been when her father left.

Inside the house, she heard a loud stentorian voice, but she couldn't make out what it was saying. She knew who it was. Negan. She could hear her father's voice as well. She crept out of her room for the first time in days, making sure the door didn't creak on her way out. She approached the stairs, quietly, and peered over the edge to see her father talking to Negan, a baseball bat slung over his leather covered shoulder. The image reminded her of the weapon slamming down beside her, blood splattering on her face as she kept her hand interlocked with Abraham's. She ducked down, trying to compose herself before she peeked back over. She could now hear what they were saying.