My mind was reeling with different emotions and thoughts as I watched Dwight grab Daryl from under his arms and lift him. Rosita reached for him, holding his hand, which didn't last very long as he was dragged away. She was truly traumatised and in shock. Seeing her so broken seemed to set of my anger even more, and so I didn't hesitate to break free from my captors hold to jump up and claw at the man's face. I wrapped my legs around his waist as I reached over his shoulders and dug my nails deep into his cheeks. I scratched at his scarred face, listening to him yell. He elbowed me sharply in the ribs, hard enough for me to fall back into someone's arms. The force of his elbow to my ribs, winded me and I swore I heard a crack.
They grabbed me roughly, pinning my arms down so I couldn't fight back. I threw my head back, my head coming into harsh contact with their chest. I knew it was probably hurting me a lot more than them, but it was satisfying enough hearing them huff so I carried on fighting. My breaths came out in shallow rasps.
"Get off of her!" Carl shouted, only for a man behind him to push down on his shoulder, forcing him to kneel again.
"Well I think this just made my day!" Negan laughed, sauntering over to me with a wide sadistic grin plastered on his face.
He stood in front of me, his bat now level with my chin as he pointed it at me. I stared at him, as my Dad raced through my mind. Negan reminded me an awful lot of him and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he'd affected me.
"Wow," he breathed out with a laugh. "You know, I think we'll take you too. Hope you don't mind too much Rick, but her, well I think I'd rather keep her close by where I can keep an eye on her," he laughed and he turned, walking away. "Sorry Carl. You're girlfriend won't be home for a while."
I was pulled back by the man who had held me before and thrown into the van next to Daryl. Daryl was silent, staring at his hands that had bruised from when he'd punched Negan. I didn't say anything, there was nothing that I could say to make him feel any better about what had happened. He'd known Glenn a lot longer than I had, and I knew he felt responsible for what happened. Even I did.
I scooted over next to him, and scooped my head under his arm. Although I knew I couldn't say anything, I hoped he felt better with me there at least. I know it felt that way for me.
"Ya shouldn't of fought for me, Lia," he said quietly.
"I couldn't let them take you, much good it did anyway," I said, my voice as sullen as his.
"You do as he says from now on. Don't want to see ya gettin even more hurt," he said, rubbing my forearm soothingly.
I didn't say anything. I knew as soon as I got my chance, that man was dead. I didn't care how many of them I had to kill. I sat in silence, huddled into Daryl's side. The longer I sat in silence, the longer I had to think about what happened. Tyreese was dead. Abraham was dead. Glenn was dead. Negan had brutally killed all three of them.
"S'alright. Let it out," Daryl said, and I broke down.
My shoulders shook as I sobbed in Daryl's arms. I felt guilty for accepting his comfort when he was feeling exactly how I was, probably even worse.
It truly hurt just remembering their names, never mind the way they'd died. I still had Tyreese's blood dried on my hands from how I had swiped his hat and I felt nauseous looking at it. I felt nauseous knowing his hat was still where I had been kneeling. I'd never have something of his to keep. All of my efforts to keep it together had failed.
—————
Me and Daryl were led to concrete rooms, looking an awful lot like prison cells. If anyone deserved a cell it was Negan. No, Negan deserved way worse than a cell.
Daryl was thrown into one and I was thrown into the one next to his. The doors were locked, and I slumped to the floor. It was a completely empty cell, dark with no bed or seat. Just a concrete room. It was silent. I couldn't even here Negan cracking his god awful jokes that were most definitely insulting and offensive to the recipient.
The thought of his face and jokes brought me straight back to him mocking my family as they'd been killed.
'Taking it like a champ!'
'Big guy over here? Took a bullet for you, so you must be something!'
'I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out, and it is gross as shit!'
I blinked away the horrors of what happened. If I wanted to get out of here I needed to go back to how Dad raised me. I managed to get away from Terminus and I'd do it again; and I was taking Daryl with me.
I heard footsteps approaching my cell, and stood up. They stopped outside my door and I heard a door being unlocked. They weren't here for me; they were here for Daryl. I tried looking through the gap in the door but there was nothing. There were no windows, the only light being from under the door.
I patted my jeans and my pockets. Nothing. All my weapons had been taken when we were first forced onto our knees in the woods.
Abraham. Glenn. Tyreese.
No. I couldn't think about that. If I let myself be brought back to what happened I'd crack. They'd be able to see that I am just a child. Not the soulless one that Negan wanted to bring back. My door unlocked and Negan and another man walked in. I stayed in place, not moving back as Negan came further into the room. The other man stayed in place by the door, blocking my exit.
"Well, hello to you too, peach," Negan joked and my heart ached at the name; another memory of Abraham.
I stayed with my expression blank. I stayed silent, watching as he moved to fold his arms and lean against the door.
"You know, I'm real sorry about what happened to your buddies back there. Not that you seem fazed. But they broke the rules. And as you know, there are no exceptions," he said, looking down at me.
"So why haven't you killed me? Or Daryl?" I asked, voice flat to try avoid him catching on to my real curiosity.
If he really meant no exceptions, we'd all be dead. We took down his outpost. Me and Daryl lashed out. Rick threatened him. He didn't stick to his own rules so why pretend to?
"Well, that's for me to know. I want to introduce you to Craig, he's going to be keeping you company during your time here. Enjoy your stay peach."
Craig threw me some clothes and I caught them in my hands. It was a beige sweatshirt with an orange painted 'A' on it with beige sweatpants. They actually looked quite comfortable.
"What's the 'A' stand for? Asshole?" I asked sarcastically.
"Right answer," he laughed and I wondered why he found everything funny.
"Aw, you put them on then," I hardened my glare, throwing them at him.
He caught them as they hit his chest and his smile dropped. He stepped towards me, shoving them back into my arms.
"You can eat tomorrow."
I hadn't expected food anyway. A man like Negan didn't have that decency so I wouldn't of been surprised if this was a trick for me to be obedient. Him and Craig left, Negan whistling some awful tune.
I changed into the clothes. In honesty, I didn't think I could bear wearing Tyreese's blood any longer. I knew I couldn't get it off my skin but the clothes was a start. The clothes were huge, definitely belonging to an older man. Did they even have women at this place? I'd seen some at the line-up, but here I was, wearing a man's clothing. The pants were very long and baggy and the sleeves hung loosely covering my hands. At least I was covered.
I wanted to be a pain and refuse to wear them, but Daryl's words rang in my head. Do as he says. I trusted Daryl, I knew he was smart in these situations. I sat on the floor in the corner, my back to the wall separating me and Daryl.
"Daryl? Can you hear me?" I said, loudly but not too loudly. I didn't want Negan or his men coming back.
He didn't answer. Was he even still in his cell? I'd heard his door open earlier but was it wrong of me to assume he was getting the same introduction I had been given?
I sighed, running my hands through my hair. My fingers got caught every now and then, but I harshly tugged, untangling the strands. I longed for Carl. He was always good at making me feel better, even at tiny things. I needed him. My mind was plagued with the deaths of my found family. I needed to get to Carl.
A lot of time had passed, at least it felt like it and I laid flat on my back, wincing as I did. My ribs were killing me, but laying flat seemed to help. My thoughts were interrupted by the loud playing of upbeat music.
'We're on east street. And it feels so sweet."
It had been so long since I'd last heard music that I actually quite enjoyed the sound of it. The upbeat, happy music though didn't deter my mood.