I can't sleep. My mind keeps going over everything Dwight told me. Weapons laced with walker guts will be raining down on the Hilltop tomorrow. Ella will be there.
You could do it while he sleeps.
Do what? Cold-blooded murder? Murder never even crossed my mind. Even after the world fell apart. It was never necessary at Alexandria. Not until recently anyway... But even when things went bad, I didn't have to do anything like that.
I roll over to my other side for the millionth time. Ella is all I can think about. What if she gets hurt in the attack? What if she dies? I wouldn't even get to say goodbye. She would die scared and alone.
Tears trickle down my face again, but I wipe them resolutely off my face. Crying is pointless. I've been doing it all night and it doesn't get me anywhere. If I want to make sure Ella is safe, and everybody else too, there only one thing I can do. Dwight gave me a way.
For my sister, I'd do anything. That's what I've always said. And I meant it.
I get up from the bed. With heavy feet, I walk over to the wall and grab my robe from its hook. Then I go over to the door and look outside. The guard has returned his position after Dwight left.
'I want to see Negan', I tell him.
He looks me up and down for a second, then shrugs. Without saying anything, he starts to walk in the direction of Negan's room and I follow.
I didn't take a knife. It would be too risky, because I can't be sure he won't search me. I'll have to trust Dwight's word that Negan's gun will be available.
Remove the safety.
Aim.
Pull the trigger.
God, I hope there won't be a gun. At least I'll get to say that I tried. It's not my fault if I can't get to a weapon, is it?
I don't want to kill him. I don't want him to die. But I don't want Ella in danger. And I don't want anybody else to die.
If he wakes up tomorrow, the Hilltop is getting hit and Ella might not make it out alive.
The guard knocks at Negan's door. It takes some time for him to open it. It's late, so maybe he was already sleeping. Seems that way by what he's wearing. Just a pair of grey sweatpants.
'What the hell are you waking me up for?' he asks the guard gruffly. 'You don't fucking know what's going down tomorrow?'
The guard clears his throat uncomfortably and looks back at me. Negan follows his gaze and then his eyes soften.
'Christina', he says. 'Come in.'
I take a last deep breath before I walk past the guard into Negan's room. I can hear Negan dismiss him. While the two men talk shortly outside, my eyes scan the room.
Dwight was right. There is a gun on the nightstand.
When he touches my back, I jump. I'd been so focused on the gun, I didn't hear him close the door and approach me.
'Relax', he says, a soft smile on his lips. 'I'm glad to see you. What brings you here?'
'I...' I mumble. I can't bring myself to look into his eyes, so I stare at his shoulder instead. 'I couldn't sleep.'
That's no lie. I've been tossing in my bed for hours, even though I'm exhausted.
Like he's done so many times before, he raises my chin to make me look at him. His hazel eyes are gentle. It's almost hard to believe how cruel they were when he came to yell at me in that cell.
'Are you okay?' he asks me.
Once again, tears blur my eyes. I'm so exhausted. So scared. For Ella. For myself. Even for him. I don't want to do what Dwight asked of me. But if I don't, such terrible things will happen. I wish Ella were here. Or my parents. Anybody that cares about me. But in the midst of all of this, I don't have anybody to help me. To comfort me.
'I just', I start, my words hindered by uncontrollable sobs. 'I miss her. I'm so alone.'
Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. And in his arms, I let my tears flow. My shoulders heave while he runs his hand softly over my hair and my back, making gentle shushing sounds.
'It's going to be okay, baby', he mumbles into my hair.
No, it's not. Either he dies or a lot of innocent people do. And Ella could be one of them. Both options make me want to bawl my eyes out.
'You're not alone, Christina', he continues. 'I'm here. I've got you.'
I could just tell him about Ella. I could tell him that she's at the Hilltop and ask him to call it all off. He keeps telling me he'll give me anything I want and there's nothing I want more than this.
But I know that his words are hollow. Because the things I really want, he won't give to me. I want peace between the communities. I want nobody else to get hurt. I want my freedom.
'Can I stay here tonight?' I ask him. My voice comes out feeble. Strangled by my tears and the horrible shame I'm feeling that I'm even thinking about going through with this.
'Of course', he says. He sounds eager. He wants me here.
I do believe he cares about me. But he doesn't care about me enough to not put my life in danger. He doesn't care about me enough to give me the freedom I want. I can't rely on him to care about me enough to call off the attack and safe Ella. Because that doesn't benefit him. And even if he cares about me, he cares about himself more.
'Thank you', I mumble. I draw away a little to look at him and offer him a very weak smile. When he smiles back, his smile is hopeful. Hopeful that I might actually forgive him. Let him in again.
I don't turn away when he kisses me. But I don't surrender to it either. I like the way his lips feel on mine. After everything, I still do. But it's not the same.
I think he notices my hesitation. Because he draws away quite soon to caress my chin and look into my eyes.
'Let's go to bed', he says. Then he kisses me one more time. It only lasts a second.
My eyes flick to the gun for a second while I walk over to the other side of the bed and shrug off my robe.
You could do it while he sleeps.
Dwight's voice keeps ringing in my head.
None of it can go through if Negan is dead.
But how can I? His hands are warm on my body when he pulls me into his embrace again. His breath tickles against my neck, his arm is strong around my waist. I don't want to imagine those hands turning cold, his breath drying up.
I can't kill him.
Then you know what happens tomorrow.
'It will all be over soon', Negan says, stroking my arm lightly. His voice is low, comforting. If I do it, I'll never hear it again.
I grab his arm and wrap myself tighter into his embrace.
'Yes, it will', I whisper in the dark.
---
It's been hours since his breath turned even beside me. He's no longer holding me. At some point he rolled into his back. His mouth is slightly opened, soft snores escape his lips now and then.
If I'm going to do it, I have to do it now. I turn my head to look at him. He looks so innocent. The roughness that is always apparent, even when he's being sweet, has disappeared in the vastness of sleep. But I know he's not innocent.
Glenn and Abraham. Spencer and Olivia. Ron... So many others. They are dead because of him. And they didn't deserve it. Yes, he has made me see that there are two sides to this conflict. But it doesn't excuse his cruelty.
He's done such terrible things. And he'll do many more. I can't let him go through with his plans for the Hilltop. I can't risk Ella's life.
Carefully, quietly, I slip out from beneath the covers and land my feet onto the floor.
If he wakes up now, I could just say that I was cold and grabbing a sweater.
But he doesn't wake up. I get to my feet and he keeps breathing evenly. Not a care in the world.
I walk around the bed to his side as softly as I can. Still, he sleeps. I look at the gun on his nightstand. Only an arm's length away.
If he wakes up now, I could say I was just going to the bathroom.
He doesn't wake up. Carefully, I reach for the gun. It feels strange in my hands. Heavier than I expected. It looks much like the one Dwight showed me. I can see where I have to remove the safety. But I don't. Not yet.
Instead, I hold it out in front of me, aim it at his head. He stirs lightly in his sleep, sending a shock of fear through my body.
If he wakes up now, this is going to be hard to explain.
But it was just a spasm of sleep. His face falls to the side and he continues to breath evenly.
Can I make that stop? Decide that this was his last breath and pull the trigger? Never see those eyes open again?
If he wakes up tomorrow...
I close one eye, and look past the gun. If I would shoot right now, it would go straight into his brain. There would be blood everywhere, cerebral matter splattered all over the pillows. It would be quick. It would be painless. The war would be over. Ella would be safe. Everybody would be. No more pain, no more death.
I release the breath I didn't realise I was holding. And I lower the gun. No matter what I tell myself, I can't do it. I don't want to kill him. I don't want him to die at all.
I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. Maybe I can find another way out. Warn them somehow. I doubt I can... But I can't do this either.
I'm about to put the gun back where I found it when suddenly a door behind me shuts loudly. For a second I think it's Negan's door, maybe a guard coming in who somehow sensed what I was thinking about doing. I twirl around to look, but his door is closed and the silence has returned. Must have just been someone in the hallway.
I sigh in relief and I'm about to put the gun back onto the nightstand, but then there's the sound of rustling behind me and before I know it, the gun is out of my hand and against my temple.
I gasp as Negan throws his arm around me and pulls me onto his lap. He's locked my good arm and my other arm is still pretty much useless and even if it wasn't, what could I do with a gun to my head? I'm trapped.
He rests his chin on my shoulder and moves his lips close to my ear. When he speaks to me, his voice drips with danger.
'This isn't what I mean when I say I like to get wild in the bedroom, honey.'