•ninety-six•
Beatrix
Negan stands beside me, watching as the doctor pours the ultrasound gel on my stomach. He is also Doctor Carson, and he looks a lot like the one at the Hilltop, so I think that they're brothers. I also make a point, just like before, to keep my hand pressed firmly over my bite so that Negan can't see it. I can't imagine what a fucking disaster that would be.
"Well hot damn!" Negan exclaims with a whistle, looking at the screen. Sure enough, there are two babies on the screen, looking like little beans. "I can't lie, Beatrix, I really thought you were lying."
"I have no reason to lie to you," I tell him, daring to meet his eyes. "If I lie, then my family dies, right? Then nothing else would matter to me. I might as well be dead."
"Shit, you are one feisty piece of ass!" He laughs as Doctor Carson wipes the gel off of my stomach and helps me sit up. "You aren't a fighter like your husband is, though. He is your husband, right? I'd expect anyone he'd marry to put up a fight."
"I'm not worried about it, honestly, because believe it or not, Negan, you fucked up. Rick is somebody that you don't want to mess with, and you have. You think you've won but you haven't," I keep my gaze locked on his face as I speak, watching how his expression changes with each of my words. "He'll come for me and Daryl, he will. He'll get us back, and he'll kill you. So until then, I'll play along with whatever game you want. I'll submit if that's what you want me to do. I'm just waiting you out."
"How optimistic of you," Negan grits his teeth, clearly pissed off. "But you're wrong, so you better get used to it here. You learn your name, you learn your place, and then we won't have any problems."
"If that's what you want," I smile back at him sweetly, trying to hide the disgust on my face. He killed Abraham. He killed Glenn. He killed Lucas. I will never forget that, and he won't get away with it. For now, yeah, whatever, but Rick won't let this slide. Daryl won't let this slide. I won't let this slide.
"Great! Then it's settled. You'll live here, and just because you're pregnant, your job can be to just stand there and look pretty! And sweetheart, you are pretty. Then, when you get as big as a balloon and pop those rascals out, you can start to fulfill your true purpose in life," Negan's shit eating grin reappears on his face, and I'm almost afraid to hear where he's going with this. "To be one of my wives."
"One of your wives?" I raise an eyebrow at him. I mean, yeah he's handsome, but with the kind of person he is, I have no idea how he was able to pull one wife, let alone multiple.
"Number seven, baby!" He exclaims, happily looking over at the door. Another woman walks in, looking scared. "Sherry, baby, you don't have to worry anymore. We've got two on the way."
"I am so confused," I say out loud, looking between the woman, Sherry, and Negan. She looks very well dressed, wearing a pretty black dress and heels. She has her hair curled and makeup on. She looks nice.
"Sorry, allow me to introduce you to my newest wife, Sherry. Sherry, meet Beatrix," he smiles looking between the two of us. "Sherry and I have been trying to have a baby for what, a couple of months now? She seems to be having some trouble with that, but now here you are! Unfortunate that the fun part's already done though."
"Oh, you think you're going to take my children?" I scoff at him, and Sherry looks shocked at my gesture. "That's not happening."
"No, sweetheart. I won't take them. We're gonna raise them."
//////////
After the fiasco in the infirmary, Negan and Sherry lead me upstairs and into a room. When we make it there, Negan dismisses Sherry while I look around. It seems nice enough. It's clean, with a made, queen sized bed in the middle of the room.
"So here's the deal: I let Daryl live, and you agree to marry me. It's that simple," Negan shrugs. "I won't have a wife that doesn't want to be with me, so you need to be sure and want it. Nothing will happen to you that you don't consent to. I don't fuck with that. My men don't fuck with that. You won't be touched unless you're okay with it."
"And if I don't agree to marry you?" I ask, turning back to face him.
"Then Daryl dies, and you work for your points, and trust me, you do not want to have to work for your points," he laughs. "We'll take a trip downstairs once you get cleaned up so you can see what it's like to work for points. You sure as shit won't have much once you get too far along that you can't walk."
I pause for a moment, thinking about my options. On one hand, I could tell him what I'm really thinking, but then Daryl will die, and Daryl simply cannot die. That only leaves me with one option: to be his wife. I want to throw up at the thought, but I hold it all back. I have to. I have to put my faith into Rick and Daryl. I have to believe that they'll get me out of this.
"Now I don't expect an answer right now," Negan paces back and forth in front of the bed.
"Okay," I cut him off, wanting him to stop talking as soon as possible.
"Seriously?" Negan smiles, looking very much surprised.
"Daryl lives and you let him see his children. That's the deal," I cross my arms over my chest, hoping with everything in me that I'm out of this situation long before then.
"Not in public. That shit doesn't fly with me. We can work those details out later, though. For now, all you need to know is the one rule you have around this place," he says, still grinning. "You don't cheat on me. From now on, you are mine and mine only."
"That's usually what being someone's wife means," I try to keep the grimace off of my face as I say the words, though I'm not sure it works.
"Not my wife yet, sweetheart. We just got engaged! Gotta ride that wave for a while," he winks at me, walking closer to gently grab my chin. He tilts my face up and presses his lips to mine. His gentleness is surprising, but I can't bring myself to kiss him back. I just can't do it. Not yet. "Sherry will be here in an hour. She'll show you around, help you learn the ropes. Take a shower and get cleaned up, oh, and wear the black dress. It is my favorite!"
"Okay," I nod, biting my lip hard. I can't believe I'm actually doing this.
"Oh, and piece of advice, Beatrix," he pauses, his body half in, half out of the door. "When your fiancé kisses you, you're supposed to kiss him back."
With that, he shuts the door behind him, and I run forward to quickly lock it. I stink to the ground, my back pressed to the door, and it all finally hits me. Emotions run over my body as I sit on the floor. I pull my knees up to my chest, hugging them as I start to cry. I silently make a deal with myself that I'm allowed to feel it right now. I have to let it all out, because in an hour, it all has to be packed away. I can't let Negan, or any of the rest of them, know how I truly feel. I have to go along with it, just for a while. For Daryl.
After a few minutes, I push myself up off of the floor and into the en suite bathroom. My tears continue to fall as I turn on the water and step in. Lucas' blood washes off of me, going down the drain at my feet. I cry for him, because he died for me. He died because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. He was too good. He didn't deserve any of it.
Once I'm out of the shower, I see a hair dryer and curling iron sitting on the sink. With a sigh, I plug the both in and get to work on my hair. Looking in the mirror, I'm pretty shocked at how long my hair has gotten. It feels like just yesterday I was back in my apartment in King County, getting ready to curl my shoulder length hair. Now, it's almost down to my waist.
In the closet, I see a bunch of different clothes, but there's only one black dress. It's a tight, short dress that zips up in the back. I pull it on and zip it up as far as I can by myself. When I hear a knock on the door, I suck in a breath, praying that it isn't Negan.
"Hi," Sherry says, her voice small when I crack open the door. I sigh when I see that it's her and not Negan, opening the door to let her in. "Let me help you with that."
"Thanks," I mutter, turning around so that she can zip the dress the rest of the way up. It's a little big on me now, but I'm sure in a couple of weeks it will fit snug.
"I'm Sherry. I would say it's nice to meet you, but it's obviously not, not in these conditions," she says, stepping back to get a good look at me. "I'm sorry for what he did to you, for who he killed. It's always someone."
"How do you know?" I snap at her, angry that she's acting like she knows me when she doesn't. "You are here willingly."
"To save the man I love," she retorts, a sad, knowing look on her face. "Just like you. Dwight is, was, my husband. Marrying Negan was the only way to save him. I'm sure you understand that."
"Yeah," my face drops, and I feel bad for being a bitch. "I'm sorry, I'm just, I don't know. It doesn't feel right."
"I'm afraid it doesn't get easier," she frowns, going to the closet and pulling out a pair of heels similar to hers. "He likes these. You should wear them. You need to make a good first impression on everybody if you want to have it easy around here."
"How long?" I ask, taking the shoes from her.
"Just a few months now. Some of the girls have been with him since the beginning. You'll meet them later, though. Amber is like us. She has Mark. He lives here, and they try to sneak off together, but Negan's going to find out soon, and then he'll get the iron. Just like Dwight," Sherry frowns, and I can tell she's trying to hold back tears as she speaks. "So, once Daryl gets out of the box, if you're smart, you'll stay away from him."
"The box?" I question, my brows furrowed.
"Yeah, that's where he's at. The box," her expression drops when she realizes I have no idea what she's talking about. "It's where they keep the ones like him, the ones that don't want to kneel. When he breaks, they'll let him out. You'll see him, but it's really in your best interest to not talk to him."
"Kneel?"
"Oh, honey, you've got so much to learn," she sighs, pulling me into a hug. "I'll show you around. Just try to look happy. These people, they don't know who you are. They'll see you as just another one of Negan's wives. If you look miserable, they'll talk, and then you'll be in trouble."
I nod, trying to let it all sink in. It's a lot to absorb at once. I do feel for Sherry, though. She very obviously does not want to be with Negan, but she does it for Dwight. I grimace at the thought of him, though. He definitely isn't as nice as Sherry.
Sherry brings me along with her, leading me through the different hallways and stairwells in the Sanctuary. At the very top, like a penthouse, we walk into what very much looks like a penthouse. There are several very nice couches with very nice throw pillows. In the center of the room is a nice table, and in the corner is a bar area. Each of the five women in the room has a glass in her hand, and all eyes turn to me when we walk in.
"This is Beatrix," Sherry introduces me to the women. "Beatrix this is Amber, Tanya, Frankie, April, and Bethany."
"Hi," I say, my voice shy. Maybe it's best to play this as if I'm weak, like Carol is doing with Alexandria. Then, I can plan my move and strike at the right time, with no suspicion. "It's nice to meet you."
"Welcome to the club," April sighs, going back to reading her magazine.
I spend the next hour or so getting to know each of Negan's wives. They all seem nice enough, except for maybe April, and they're all gorgeous. None of them speak ill of Negan, but it's not hard to tell who has no other choice but to be here. Amber and Bethany are definitely two women that would rather be anywhere else than here.
After an hour, Negan shows up. He goes around, making sure to kiss each one of us before saying why he came up. Apparently, he needs me for something. Lovely, just lovely. Sherry gives my hand a squeeze before I have to stand up and follow Negan.
"Wanna see something that is cool as shit?"
"Not really," I say, walking behind him as he taps his bat on the railing that overlooks a large room, full of his people.
They all are walking around, minding their own business until they hear Negan whistling. As soon as they hear him, they all turn towards us and drop to the ground to kneel. My mouth drops open to see them praising this man like he's some kind of god. Do these people not know what kind of man he is or do they just not care?
"Am I supposed to do that too?" I ask him, standing beside of him as we overlook his people.
"The only time I expect my wife to kneel for me is in the bedroom," he winks before turning his attention to the people below us. "Let me introduce you all to my super fucking hot fiancé, soon to be wife!"
Everyone claps and congratulates us, smiling up at us, still kneeling on the ground. I, like, actually hate this. I wonder how many of them are here because of blackmail, or because he killed someone they love and they don't want the same to happen to them.
"Now check this out," Negan whispers in my ear before turning back to his people. "Who do you work for?"
"Negan."
"Who provides for you?"
"Negan."
"And who are you?"
"Negan!"
The collective voice is terrifying. It is terrifying that they have all submitted to this man and are being literally brainwashed by him. It's like they're being mind controlled. At least, that's easier to accept than the idea of them jus blindly following him like this.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Negan exclaims, happy as a clam. "Everyone eats dinner tonight. No points required."
"Thank you, Negan!" Everyone days collectively, again, as they clap for him.
"As you were," he knocks his bat on the rail again, and everyone starts to get up. My heart breaks a little when I see a little old woman struggling to get off the floor. "That's cool as shit, right?"
"I guess," I mutter, following behind him as he walks away. I'm honestly not sure what else I'm supposed to say. It's more freaky than cool to me, but I doubt he wants to hear that. "Where are we going?"
"We are going on a field trip!" Negan exclaims, shit eating grin still on his face. It's the same look he had right before he killed Lucas. Seeing it again, I have to physically hold myself back from hurting him. As much as I would love to, as soon as I did, his minions would come after me and kill me.
Negan leads me down a couple flights of stairs and through a dark hallway, which ultimately leads to another dingy hallway. I wonder why the hell we're down here, until I see Dwight standing in front of a door. My blood runs cold at the sight of him standing there, shit eating grin on his face too, while he wears Daryl's angel wing vest.
"Take that off!" I yell, unable to control myself at the sight. It fucking pisses me off so bad that I can't see straight. All I see is red. Daryl risked his life to help this sack of shit, and this is how he gets repaid. I lunge forward, grabbing him by the vest. "It doesn't belong to you!"
Before I can hurt him like I want to, two more of Negan's men grab me and pull me off. Dwight grabs ahold of my arms and hold them behind my back. I decide to chill out and act like his loose grip on me could actually stop me from clawing his eyes out.
"Dwight, where are your manners? Do not manhandle my fiancé like that!" Negan scolds his right hand man, who then releases me very quickly, before raising his hand to touch my cheek. "Beatrix, I'm going to have to train you better than that. That shit does not fly with me! I will shut that shit down. If Dwight wants to wear the vest, then he'll wear the god damn vest."
My blood is boiling. I am so angry that I don't know how much longer I can control myself. I don't know how much longer I can go without ripping the fucking throats out of every single one of them. I know I need to play this smart, to wait on Rick and Daryl to figure something out, but it's hard. Maybe if I can get close enough to Negan, I can kill him when they're least expecting it.
"Do not think about doing something like that again," Negan warns me, his eyes dark. "Tell me you understand."
"I understand," I force the words out, still glaring at Dwight. His arms don't even fill out the vest, anyway. He's a scrawny twig.
"All right then. As long as you're sorry, Dwight can open the door," Negan wipes all anger from his face and smiles.
When Dwight opens the door in front of us, I understand why Negan smiles. The room is pitch black dark with maybe ten square feet of space. It's a fucking broom closet. Daryl is laying on the floor, bloody and bruised and covered in dirt. He looks up at us through his hair, squinting his eyes at the sudden brightness being let into the room.
I have to take several deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Emotional manipulation is Negan's game. It's what he's good at. It's what gets him off. He wants to hurt us, and fuck is is going to work, but I can't let him know that. I can't.