Poker Face

Chapter 50 - Bedside

When he had started his new world, he thought it was what he wanted; he thought he wanted to be the one to personally rebuild society no matter what. But since meeting Aven, it was becoming clear to him that he never would have started the Sanctuary or the Saviors if he hadn't lost Lucille. He would have done everything he could to keep her safe and to make up for all the pain he put her through. But instead her death caused him so much pain and self-destructive guilt that he needed a huge distraction, and being the sole leader of the Saviors became that distraction. But now the distraction was what led to Aven's near-death. Rosita had targeted her for a reason, so she could get to Negan directly.

The other communities intervening when they did was extremely suspicious. Alexandria had every reason to believe the Saviors were intending to come for a regular pickup. And, Negan thought, the attack wasn't likely a coincidence; the trees in the road had to have been downed to buy time, since Rick's backup got there well after a fight had already broken out. Only the Saviors were supposed to know there was going to be an attack, which meant there might be a traitor amongst them. Negan personally trusted his men, but he knew Aven would immediately blame Dwight and he didn't want to start an argument while she needed to heal. He was going to keep her as unburdened as possible.

Negan left a radio and a huge bottle of water on the bedside table with a note telling Aven to tell him when she woke up and to drink all the water. To his dismay, he couldn't stay by her side every minute but he was determined to speed through any responsibilities around the Sanctuary and get back to her.

Aven woke hours later from another nightmare about her kidnapper; they were becoming clearer and more frequent. She'd had them before meeting Negan but the frequency and severity decreased as her old life got farther and farther behind her. But the dreams had been reawoken by the attack the day he met her, and now agitated by her incapacitated state. She didn't want to be a victim anymore, but it seemed like no matter what she did she couldn't shake the feeling of not being strong enough in any given situation.

The daze Negan had put her in when he swept her off her feet was wearing off and the pains of the rest of the world were setting back in. She saw the radio he left for her but didn't reach for it or read his note; she didn't have the energy to move. It was partially from the injury, but partially emotional. She didn't want to wake up and face the world. All she wanted was Negan, but if she called for him it would only be a matter of time before he had to leave again and put himself in danger. Just after noon, he came back to check on her and frowned when he saw her wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

"Doll, how long have you been up?" he asked worriedly, seeing the unopened bottle of water he'd left.

"I don't know," she mumbled, her voice not much more than a sigh. "A while." 

"I left a radio here for you to call me."

"I saw it," she replied. "Was gonna call, forgot I guess."

"Forgot? Doll, you're weak. You need fuel."

"I know I'm weak," she retorted with a grimace, her head spinning and her muscles heavy. She was pale with big, dark circles under her eyes and a distant air about her. Negan sighed and ran a hand over his face as he made his way to the bed and sat down on the side, taking her hand. She was lost in a pool of loud and racing thoughts and flinched ever so slightly when he touched her. 

"Look at me," he ordered firmly but gently. Her eyes lazily rolled towards him and they were glassy from the tears she was holding back. "You're okay and you're going to be okay."

"What's going to happen?" she asked quietly.

"Doc said it could be at least two weeks until you're feeling like yourself," Negan replied, gazing down at her with pity. "Probably two weeks for the stitches too. You need to eat and drink. You should have fuckin' called me so I could bring you food."