They've turned the house into a mess. Though I told them exactly where to find the medication, they turned over everything else as well. Looking for more meds or other valuable things, I suppose. Honestly, I'm not sure yet what else they've taken, besides the mattresses. There certainly seem to be things missing but I'm going to have to tidy up a bit before I can really take stock.
Ella went out to find Carl and make sure he's okay, since the two of them are pretty close. So I start to pick through the mess on my own. I feel a little calmer now that they've left my house at least, but I won't be able to truly wind down until they've left Alexandria without killing anyone.
I sigh as I take in the ravage before me and tie my dark curls back into a ponytail. Then I start putting everything back where it belongs. I realize with a start that they did go through the cabinet beneath the sink, because they left it open and pulled everything out. But they didn't find the wooden panel behind which I hid the meds, thank God. I surely would have heard about it if they had.
When I've tidied up a little, I decide to go into the other room and see how Ron's doing. I already checked in on him shortly and was happy to find out that they haven't been in his room much.
When I walk into the room, I can see he's craning his neck, trying to look out the window, but the bed's just a bit too far away.
'Don't worry about it, Ron, you don't want to see it.'
'Is it bad?' he asks, looking up at me as I lean back against the wall.
'They're taking all the weapons', I tell him with a sigh. 'All the medication. All the mattresses. But no food yet, I've heard.'
'How generous', Ron says sarcastically.
I snort and raise my eyebrows in agreement.
'At least they let us keep your mattress', I tell him. 'And the other two in the infirmary.'
'Good for them', Ron says. 'I'd have kicked their asses if they tried to take this mattress away from me.'
We both laugh, but Ron's laugh soon turns into a nasty cough and I walk over to help him up a little so he can breathe better. When he's calmed down a little, I hand him a bowl to spit the phlegm into and then offer him some water.
'Better?' I ask. He nods as he slowly sinks back into the pillows, tears in his eyes from the attack.
'Are you going to be able to fix me without the meds, doc?' he asks me softly. I wince slightly at the fear I hear in his voice. How can these people do this to us?
'I think so, Ron, we've already gotten you through the worst of it. But I'll be honest, it will definitely be harder without antibiotics.'
'Perhaps I'll do you the decency of dying tonight', he says, closing his eyes as the coughing has left him exhausted. 'Let you spend more time on people that have better use of it.'
'Don't say that', I say affronted. 'You're going to be just fine, Ron.'
'Hm', he murmers noncommittaly. Then, without opening his eyes, he asks: 'So, what was he like?'
'Who?'
'You know, their leader. The one that killed Glenn and Abraham. He was here, wasn't he? I heard some.'
'Oh', I say, pulling back from fluffing his pillow.
'Yes, he was...' I hesitate looking for the right word for it, '... frightening.'
'Good, that's just what I was going for.'
My heart seems to drop right into my shoes when I hear his voice behind me. Why has he come back here? He can't be back here. It can't be good.
I turn around slowly to find him leaning against the doorpost. I wonder how long he's been here.
'Hello', I say, trying not to let my voice tremble. 'Do you need anything else from me?'
'Yes, doc, actually I do.' He takes his hand out of his pocket and stands a little straighter. Then motions with his finger for me to come over.
'Can I have a word with you?'
Before I answer, he's already walking out of the room, back into the adjacent kitchen. I look over at Ron with wide eyes for a second before I follow him.
'I can come with you', he mumbles weakly.
'Don't be ridiculous', I tell him. 'Don't worry about it, I'll be fine. Try to get some sleep.'
'Get back here when you're done with him', he says worriedly. 'I need to know that you're still...'
Alive? I swallow and walk over to the door behind which Negan is waiting for me.
'I'll be right back', I tell Ron. Then I wall into the kitchen and close the door behind me.
Negan is leaning against the kitchen counter now. I stay by the door to keep some distance between us, but he motions me to come to him again.
'Closer', he commands.
Reluctantly, I walk over to the kitchen counter as well until he seems satisfied. I cross my arms to stop my heart from jumping out of its chest, because it sure feels like that's what it's about to do. This man terrifies me.
'What can I do for you?' I ask in a small voice.
'I'd like you to answer a question for me, Christina', he says vaguely. Whatever he wants from me, he's taking his time with it. I suppose he likes scaring the shit out of people.
'Of course.'
He pushes himself off the counter and makes his way over to me. I walk back from him instinctively, but he soon walks around me and traps me against the counter. He grins when his face is close to mine.
'My question is... if beating the brains out of two of you assholes doesn't say I'm serious, then what the fuck does?'
Does he know? How can he know? Oh my God, if he knows then I'm dead.
'What do you mean?' I ask as panic surges through my veins. 'We know you're serious, of course we know.'
'Doctor', he says condescendingly. 'Don't take me for a fool. I asked you if you gave me all the medicine. You said it's all you've got in this house, didn't you? Was that the truth?'
Is he bluffing, hoping to find more? Did Ella slip up? Do I lie? Do I tell him the truth?
'Yes', I mumble, the word almost catching in my throat. 'You took everything.'
His eyes bore into mine, but they betray nothing. I don't know if he believes me or if he sees right through me. But then, without any warning, his hand shoots up and he firmly grabs my jaw. It's so unexpected that I let out a short yelp as he presses his body against mine and turns my head to the side so he can speak straight into my ear.
'Doctor, I will give you one more chance to tell me the truth. Did you hand over all the medicine?'
'No', I gasp. The word is out before I know it. My entire body is trembling with fear. He's going to kill me, I know it.
'Where's the rest?' he demands, still holding me tightly.
'Here', I say breathlessly. 'Beneath the sink.'
He turns my head to face him now, twisting my neck rather painfully and looks at me through his eyelashes. I don't think I've ever been as scared as I am right now with my face in his hand.
'Grab them for me.'
He lets me go as suddenly as he grabbed me and as soon as he steps away to release me, I drop to my knees before the sink cabinet. With trembling hands I pull everything out once again and then I reach for the wooden panel to get rid of it and reveal the box. He walks over and stands next to me to watch me do it in silence and every second that passes before I get to the box feels like an eternity. Finally, I pull it out and hand it over to him before I even get up from the ground.
I watch him apprehensively as I get up again. He puts the large box on the counter and to my surprise takes out a little notebook from his pocket. Then it hits me and I could just about punch myself in the face for being so stupid.
Olivia's lists. She notes down our rations of everything. Including the medication. She's always telling me to keep her updated about the stock but honestly I always forget and after a while she just shows up randomly to count everything. Why would she give him the lists? That's so stupid! But of course, I'm the stupid one. I should have thought about this.
'What's in the box?' Negan asks.
'There should be 94 boxes of carbamazepine in there.'
Ella's drugs are the only ones I always know the exact stock of. Enough to last us another 3 years or so. We didn't have a solution yet for what to do after that. But it seems that our time has been cut short.
'It still doesn't add up, doc', he says, scanning Olivia's lists. 'We've counted everything and according to this list there should be more.'
'This is everything, I swear', I tell him quickly. 'I just always forget to update Olivia on the stock. She totally hates me for it, really, you can ask her.'
He has to believe me. If he doesn't, I'll be in even more trouble. And I'm already terrified of what he'll do to me. Negan looks up from the notebook to look me in the eye. Trying to decide if I'm telling the truth, I suppose.
'Olivia did mention something like that, so I'll take your word for it.'
I flinch a little when he suddenly snaps the notebook shut and then looks into the box.
'So why hide these drugs and nothing else?' he asks, randomly picking up one of the medicine boxes to examine it. 'What do they do?'
'They're used to treat epilepsy. They prevent seizures.'
'You get seizures?' he asks, moving in closer again.
'No', I say, shaking my head. 'My sister.'
'Ah', he says, moving in front of me again. Like before, he traps me against the counter and I don't dare to push him away.
'So she gets seizures when she doesn't take these things?'
'That's right', I say. My voice sounds strange to my own ears, strangled by fear as it is.
'How many does she need?'
'Like... 4 a day', I say, a little confused by why he'd have to know that.
'Alright, so this', he opens the box in his hand and takes out three strips, 'should be enough to last her a week?'
I try to swallow but my mouth feels dry.
'Yes, it should.'
A grin appears on his face as he dangles the strips in front of my eyes. A grin that I don't like. A grin that scares me.
'Doctor, what would you be willing to do for me to let you keep these drugs?'
'What do you mean?' I ask breathlessly.
In response, he takes my hand, places the strips into it and then closes my fingers around it.
'They can be yours, sweetheart', he tells me, bringing his face uncomfortably close to mine.
'If?' I ask, my eyes on his mouth that moves closer still.
'If,' he says, bringing his fingers up to my chin. He angles up my face and brings his lips almost to mine.
'You let me kiss you.'
I don't know what to say. Or what to do. With every fibre of my body, I want to push him away and get as far away as I can. But I don't move.
'Just say yes,' he tells me with a grin. 'You need them don't you?'
'Yes,' I whisper.
His lips land on mine. I don't move, I don't do anything. What can I do? This man is a murderer. He won't hesitate to kill me if I don't do what he wants.
I feel his fingers on my cheek, moving to my hair. As he pushes my lips open with his, he tugs at the band holding my hair together and lets it all tangle down my back. He seems to relish in letting his hand glide through my curls while he grabs my waist with the other.
When he lets his tongue run over my lip, I kiss him back. I grab his shoulder, meet his tongue with mine. It's the only thing I can do. Perhaps he won't punish me for hiding the drugs from him. Perhaps he'll actually let me keep the drugs he put into my hand. Ella needs them. She needs me.
The kiss seems to go on forever and I wonder where it will stop. What if he wants more than this? I can't do it. He killed my friends. I keep my eyes firmly closed and try to push that thought away. These hands on my body have wielded the bat that crushed their skulls. But I don't push him away. I don't tell him to stop. Because I can't end up like that.
Finally, he pulls away. There's a gleeful smile on his face as he looks at me.
'Oh, doctor', he says, licking his lips, 'you certainly know how to make a man feel better.'
I don't smile back. Though my instinct is to slap the shit out of him, I make sure to keep my face neutral. Negan looks at me like he wants more. Much more. But to my relief, he steps back, giving me space to breathe again.
'I'll be back in a week', he says, grabbing the box with the rest of the meds from the counter. 'I'll keep these safe for you and I'll take another dose next time. Then we'll discuss how you can pay me for them.'
I think I must seem a little in shock to him, because though I'm no longer trapped against the counter, I haven't moved. Only when he moves in front of me again, I tense up.
'And never try to pull a stunt like that with me again, doctor', he says, lifting my chin with his free hand to make me look at him. 'You will regret it.'
Then he leans over and softly kisses me one more time before he walks away.
I think I must have stood there for 10 minutes before I finally moved again. It's the pain in my hand that finally pulls me back to consciousness. I've been balling my fist so hard that the edges of the medicine strips have left bright red lines in the palm of my hand.
I turn around and put them on the counter before grabbing on to the edge of it to keep my balance. My thoughts are making it feel like the ground is sinking beneath my feet.
What will he want from me next week?