Poker Face

Chapter 50 - Bedside

"What are you, my maid?" she said aloofly. "It's fine. I'm not hungry. And I meant what's going to happen with Alexandria." Negan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting her upset or stressed, before snatching the water bottle off the table and opening it.

"Drink this and I'll be back soon with food, which you will eat all of," he asserted, not giving her room to argue as he swiftly turned to leave. But before he made it out the front door, he heard her curse aggressively under her breath.

"Fuck," she hissed, as though in pain. Negan was immediately back at her side.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his concern growing again.

"I just got my fucking period," she groaned.

"Oh fuck," he mumbled, staring back at her awkwardly. "That fucking sucks."

"Can you just get me pads from the market?" she asked, feebly pushing herself to sit up against the headboard. Whether or not he needed to, Negan steadied her with a hand on her shoulder, struggling to see her so frail. It reminded him of when he'd first met her, only weeks earlier, and he didn't like that she had to suffer so much in such a short span of time, especially when he felt she'd already suffered enough for a lifetime before the outbreak even began.

"No, but I can get you pads from the storage room so no one sees me with fucking pads," he said.

"It's not like people will think they're for you," she replied with a hint of humor. He gave a small smile and squeezed her shoulder affectionately before disappearing out the door.

When he returned with a small sandwich and a bowl of soup, any hint of humor was again gone. Aven's thoughts were still racing but she was too exhausted to pin any one down. It was just a constant rush of anxiety contained within her tired shell of a body. Negan spent a half hour making sure she finished her food and then sat next to her in bed while she slowly sipped the water, staring off into the distance.

"You wanna talk about anything, doll?" he asked finally, as though he could hear the cacophony of worries in her mind.

"What's going to happen with the Alexandrians?" she asked again after a short silence.

"Not sure yet," he half-lied. "But they're going to fucking pay. Yesterday was fucking terrible but I'm betting they took enough casualties that they won't be able to attack again any time soon."

"Just get rid of them," she grumbled. "All they do is kill." The suggestion took Negan aback. She'd been advising all along that he go easier on them; now she wanted total destruction?

"We still have the upper hand," he replied. "We'll beat them back into submission. People are resources; I don't want to just wipe them all out."

"Whatever." The Alexandrians were more trouble than beating them again was worth, but she knew she wasn't going to change his mind and she didn't have the energy or mindset to argue. Hopefully, though, he'd come to his senses and just eliminate the threat. At first they were salvageable as a resource but now it was obvious they wouldn't stop killing and rebelling until they were dead.

"Try not to worry," he said softly. "It's not your concern. This isn't your battle anymore." Again, Aven didn't argue, but she didn't intend on backing off her involvement in the conflict. She sighed as she sluggishly swung her legs over the side of the bed and moved to get up. She groaned when she stood and leaned with one hand on the bed, the room spinning after not having been on her feet for twenty four hours, and of course from the blood loss. Negan came to her side to help her stand up straight and she immediately turned in towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest and letting out a single soft sob. He held her tightly, one hand stroking the back of her head as he shushed her comfortingly.