(HUGE TW!! Mentions of like...everything!!)
Negan, with his arm wrapped tightly around my bicep, leads me through a corridor.
My fear hasn't faltered from earlier, the same clammy hands, the same lack of air. The farther we walk down the corridor, the harder my heart pounds, almost painfully.
I don't take my eyes off the grey walls and floor, the rows of doors, and the few Saviors kneeling on the sides.
My eyes are moving rapidly, searching for both an escape route and Nick.
Nick. Mother Fucking. Golding.
The man who caused me to overdose. The man who caused me to get addicted to drugs. The man who beat and raped me so hard I refused to be alone with a man for years. The man who ruined me.
Inside and out.
I exhale a quiet, shaky breath though not quiet enough to go unnoticed by Negan.
He chuckles behind me, "What, scared? Damn, don't know if I've ever heard of Adrian Walsh as scared before."
Don't tell him your last name is the same last name as the man he kidnapped.
"Why would you help me e-escape Nick if you just wanted me to go b-back to him." The more I speak, the more flashbacks of Nick I get. The horrible trauma I tried so hard to shove down, is now coming up, almost out of my mouth.
Pins and needles ring against my skin, causing Negan's rough grasp to become almost numb.
Before bringing me to see Nick, Negan got me medicine for my migraine. He said it wouldn't be any fun if I was already in pain.
There's no way this is Negan.
There's no way he's bringing me to Nick.
After what feels like forever of walking, Negan stops in front of a door.
My heart warms though my blood runs cold. Goosebumps raise the hair on my arms and neck and I can feel the scars on my back tingle in protest.
Negan lets go of me and knocks on the door, "Delivery."
Negan leans close to my ear, "Though, there is one rule. If he rapes you...come find me. Other than that..." He straightens up again.
"Negan," I whisper, my voice shaking a lot more than I would like it to. "Negan, I've been waiting to find you. I wanted to leave and find you but I never had the right chance to. Please...please do not make me see Nick, I-"
My words immediately cut off as I hear the sound of a lock clicking.
I bite my lip, much like Alyssa was doing last night, and my stomach twitches with concealed cries.
Slowly, the door creaks open, revealing the man who I've been horrified to see since the day I left him.
There he is, his dirty blonde hair shagging over his face, his scarily blue eyes, and his sharp cheekbone. And worse of all, his haunting smile.
His hungry smile.
He's got a new scar, a small on one his cheek. I don't know if I want to know where it came from. He's wearing a white wife-beater, ironically, and jeans with a blue flannel and cowboy boots. The outfit he used to wear all the time.
"Adrian, fucking, Walsh." Nick whistles, looking me up and down.
I tense, the sides of my elbows are pressed into my ribcage, and I'm frozen in place. I can't even speak.
He chuckles, "Just as hot as ever. Come on in." He opens the door wider for Negan and I to enter.
I shake my head, my face ashen.
Negan chuckles, "Aw, come on Adrian. You were so brave last night, offering to sacrifice for everyone else. Where's that bravery now?"
Once again, he grabs my bicep and tries to pull me forward but I stay rooted in the same spot.
Negan smiles, "You're at a disadvantage here, honey. You're one foot short and I could take that sucker off at any time to make you lose your balance. Then what'll you do? Move." His tone drops and his eyes narrow.
I squeak in horror as Negan shoves me into the room and closes the door behind me.
Leaving me alone with Nick.
I press my back up against the door and hug my arms to my chest as if putting a shield around me.
My breathing is short, quick, ragged breaths and my whole body is uncontrollably trembling.
Abraham would make me feel better.
I have to inhale a sharp breath to keep tears from leaking out of my eyes. It's like time is frozen as Nick's eyes trail up and down my shaking body.
He smirks, "How'd you lose your foot?"
I don't reply, I just stare at him with wide, horrified eyes.
"You speak when you're spoken to. You remember that, don't you? Or should I...give you a refresher?" He scoffs, taking a small step closer to me.
I squeak in panic and shake my head quickly, "I-I go-t bit b-by a W...alker"
Nick nods, rubbing his hand on his stubbly chin. "Hm," He thinks for a moment before smiling. "I like it, it adds edge to your already porn star-ish features."
I squeeze my legs together as if trying to hide the fact I'm wearing Negan's shorts. The shorts I wore when I snuck out of Nick's apartment.
He notices, his eyes flicking to my quivering legs. "Those are Negan's, right?" He steps closer, dangerously closer. I push my body impossibly closer to the door, my back straightening.
"Those are the shorts you wore when you left. When you abandoned me."
Now my voice is back.
"I didn't a-abandon you." I state, my voice slightly less shakier than before.
Nick scoffs, "Yes you did!" I flinch at the loudness of his voice.
"You up and left! For no reason!"
Heat rises through my body and I feel my legs stop shaking from fear, but now starting to shake from anger.
"No reason? I left you because you beat me every chance you got! You raped me when I didn't want to fuck you-" I shut up as soon as a quick slap lands on my cheek, silencing me.
This is gonna get bad.
My head snaps to the right and stays there, my brain trying to process if this is a vivid night terror or real life.
Unfortunately, this is real life.
"You remember the rules...right?" His voice is eerily calm.
I side-eye him with a death glare and exhale a shaky breath, nodding. "Don't talk back." I whisper.
He nods, guiding my face to him with a finger on my chin. "Exactly. And the others?"
I bite my lip, trying to calm my breathing. "You're the only man who could ever make me...happy."
He nods, "And the most important one?"
My lip quivers, "Don't..." I inhale a shaky breath and look into his dead eyes. "Don't say 'no'."
He nods and kisses me gently on the forehead, "That's right. Now, we've got a lot of catching up to do, don't we?" Nick smiles a predatory smile, "The power couple, back together."
Fuck.
I shake my head, trying to find words that he wouldn't classify as "talking back" though I know anything I say will be "talking back".
He raises an eyebrow and looks at me warningly, "No? Adrian, babe, you left me. And you act like I was the one who ruined your life."
I chew on my cheek, "You did."
Nick's eyes harden, he clicks his tongue and inhales a sharp breath. "Oh, no, Adrian. They didn't...actually get to your head...did they?"
"The fuck do you mean?" I hiss, cautiously.
"Well...you didn't actually believe that all men don't hit their girlfriends...right?"
I clench my jaw, my teeth grinding against each other. "Actually, I did. And I do."
He chortles and shakes his head, "No you don't. I see those knuckle marks on your cheekbone. It's courtesy for a man to hit a woman when she misbehaves."
Don't let him get to you. Don't let it happen.
Though...no.
Nick had such an impact on my brain, that it's almost like there's a soft spot for him. Like his words are all immediately true, he knows this. And he uses it to his advantage.
I wish I could say I'm confident in myself to not believe him.
"It was an accident." I squeak.
He laughs a fake laugh, "Yeah, I can tell you're real confident in that response."
"I am. I was there." I spit, pressing myself against the door further.
Nick tenses his arm, ready to slap me, but he doesn't. For some odd reason.
Thank god.
"Hitting a girl isn't an accident, Adrian." He says, turning around and walking away, his back facing me.
Now's my chance.
Without wasting a second, I swing the door open and bolt out of the room. The adrenaline in my body not allowing me to think negative thoughts.
I don't know where I'm going, I don't know where I am. I just need to put as much distance between Nick and me as possible, even if that means leaving him alive.
"ADRIAN!" Nick's angry voice booms from down the hall.
My legs move impossibly faster, turning me down a few halls, resulting in confused looks from other Saviors as I zoom past them.
Everything around me is a blur as I run, my lungs are cold, and I have stitches in my ribs but I don't mind it.
I turn down a corridor and find myself in a hall full of cell doors. There are bars for windows on them and big, industrial locks on the outside.
Daryl.
Without thinking of the approaching Nick, I begin running again, searching each cell for my husband.
The men inside, dirty and scared, all look at me with horrified looks, as if expecting me to do something.
Fuck. I have to get Daryl out of here.
Finally, at the end of the hall, right before a left turn, there he is. He's naked, sitting in the corner of his dark cell.
I barely recognize him at first.
"Daryl," I whisper, wrapping my hands in a fist around the bars.
He slowly looks up, his eyes widening at the sight of me standing behind his door.
"Daryl, are you okay?" I whisper, looking over my shoulder.
"What are you doin'?" He whispers, straightening up slightly.
My knuckles turn white when I grip the bars harder, "Trying to escape Nick before he adds to the art show on my back." I look over both shoulders again, "Why the fuck are you naked?"
Daryl doesn't respond, he just curls into a tighter ball, causing my heart to squeeze.
"Fuck, I'm getting you out of there. Okay? I just-"
"No, you're not." Nick's voice says from behind me.
He wraps his arms around my waist and heaves me away from Daryl as I kick and scream, reaching for the door as if my arms were elastic and could reach.
"Nick, Nick, stop! Put me down!" I yell, terror rising in my body as we go further and further down the hallways.
"Hell no. I guess you've forgotten how things work with me. I'm gonna have to give you a refresher on the punishments." He hisses, tightening his grip on me.
I don't reply, I just begin uncontrollably sobbing in fear as he brings me closer and closer to his room.
Once we're in there, he slams the door shut and throws me onto a chair. I try to get up but he slaps me across the face angrily.
I sink back into the chair, my heart rate picking up again and sweat dripping down my forehead.
I never really got the chance to catch my breath from running, but the alarm in my body is making it much, much worse.
"You seem to think that you're better than me." Nick thinks aloud, putting his arms on the armrests and putting his face inches away from mine.
I shake my head quickly, "Not in the slightest."
He scoffs, his hot breath causing the hair stuck to my face to sway. "Bullshit, Adrian. So, I'm gonna need to prove to you that you don't mean shit. Women don't mean shit. Understand?"
I bite my tongue to refrain from saying something dangerously snarky.
"Understand?!" He booms, leaning closer to me.
I nod shakily, "Yes-yes. Yeah."
Speak when you're spoken to.
"Good." He straightens up, acting as if he's going to walk away. Instead, he turns and sucker-punches me in the face, causing the chair to fall over and me to go with it.
I hit the ground with a grunt as my cheekbone burns.
He scoffs and crouches down next to me, my chest rising and falling quickly while failing to conceal my fear.
"Tired already?" He grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me back up, the chair squeaking in protest as it raises back into its original position.
"Nick...I'm-"
He grabs the hair on top of my head roughly and pulls me close to him, "I told you you were going to be punished for leaving. You know that's how it was then, that's how it's going to be now...doll."
I wince as he pushes my head back, releasing my hair.
"Now," He punches me in the nose. The familiar burning sensation rises in my nose and I can feel liquid begin to form in the middle of it.
"Who am I?!" He booms, his face mere inches from mine again.
"Nick." I spit through gritted teeth.
Another punch.
"Who am I?!" He yells again.
"Nick!" I yell.
Two more.
"Who the fuck am I?!" His voice is impossibly louder, scarier, dangerous.
I keep my face to the right, breathing heavily, causing the hair in my face to move with each breath.
I don't respond, trying to figure out how to play my cards right.
He grabs my chin roughly and moves my face to his, signaling me to speak.
I hesitate, my teeth clenched painfully and blood trickling from my nose to the lines of my lips.
"My boyfriend." I murmur.
"Sorry?" He asks, cupping his ear.
"My boyfriend." I respond, this time louder.
He nods, satisfied. "Good. And what do boyfriends do?"
I chew on the inside of my lip, "They hit their girlfriends."
He grabs the back of my head and pulls it close to his face, "They do what?!"
"They hit their girlfriends!"
They hit their girlfriends.
Daryl hit me.
Nick hit me.
They hit their girlfriends.
"I heard from a little birdie that you were 'married' to someone."
My heart stops.
Nick drops his voice to a low whisper, "He doesn't give a fuck about you. He never will. Nobody ever will! I'm the only man who will ever treat you good! I'm the only real man for you! You don't mean shit to anyone! Whoever acts like they love you is faking it! Nobody loves you! Nobody loves you other than me, understand?!"
My lip quivers, "I understand."
He smiles, "And once again, who am I?"
My lips twitch into a restrained frown, trying desperately to get me to cry but I don't allow it. I do exactly what I did for five years straight.
Suck it up.
"My boyfriend."
Nick nods and releases me, "Amazing." He kisses me roughly on the lips, the blood from my nose transferring to his lips and Cupid's bow.
I grunt in protest but the most important rule rings in my mind.
Don't say no.
Don't say no.
Fuck.
Eventually, my arms are wrapped around his neck and his hands are wrapped around my waist.
The way his lips feel on mine, it's like nostalgia. I remember how much I loved kissing him before he hit me the first time. How soft his lips are.
He groans into the kiss, breaking it and scanning my face. "God, I've missed those lips."
Before I respond, he kisses me again and leans down, scooping me off of the chair as I wrap my legs around his waist.
I loved him for years. Why would I love him if men weren't supposed to hit their girlfriends?
The next morning Nick is sitting next to me, still naked. "I missed having you in my bed. Owning you...kissing you." He says, kissing me on the side of my head.
I don't respond, my whole mind is distracted by Daryl.
The man in the cell. The man who I'm supposed to be married to. The man who hit me.
Nick really is right, all men do hit their girlfriends. That's why both men I've been with have. How did I not see it before?
Nick sighs and reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing a bag of pills. "When was the last time you were high?"
Every time I was high with Nick, it would result in me being tied up on the bed or with fresh bruises.
I guess that's normal?
I shrug, "Been a while."
He smiles devilishly and reaches into the bag, grabbing two pills. "Your favorite. Fentanyl. That's what you enjoyed most."
I hesitate, staring at the pills.
Alyssa would be pissed.
But Daryl never let me do them. He always told me to do what makes me happy and what makes me happy is Fentanyl. Maybe Nick is better news than Daryl.
I grab the pills out of his hand and toss them back, Nick hands me a beer with a grin on his face.
A few minutes later, with our clothes back on, I'm lying on my side on the bed, I feel like nothing can hurt me. Not even Nick.
My body feels both heavy and weightless at the same time, I can't hear anything except the slowness of my heartbeat and my slow breath.
Nick sits beside me, "I know you missed me." He traces the scars on my back.
"I thought about you every day." I whisper, to focused on the imaginary blobs around the room. I thought about him in a bad way but...he doesn't need to know that.
Suddenly, Negan knocks on the door. "Put your pants back on. Comin' in." He announces, opening the door and walking inside the room.
"Ho! Ho! Holy shit!" He exclaims seeing my bruises, my hickey, and my high state.
"Seems like you've had an eventful few hours."
He crouches in front of me, knowing I'm too high to lift my head and look at him. "I have a proposition." He smiles.
"Mm?" I reply, looking at him with heavy eyes.
"Since you're already here, and I wouldn't want you to be one of my wives,"
Wives? Does Lucille know?
"I want you to be a fighter. Workin' right beside ol' Nick and I. I know how you are, I know what you can do, Rattlesnake. You could jump from the bottom to the top of the fighters right now. You could start being a fighter and be in charge of people."
He hesitates, "Some people." He finishes, tilting his head.
"Whatcha' say, Rattlesnake?"
Fight who?
"Mhm..." I agree, the fogginess in my brain not allowing me to fully process what I'm agreeing to.
Negan smiles widely and claps his hands together, "Hell yeah!" He celebrates.
I smile, my cheek still pressed into the warm bed, "Yay..." I whisper.
Negan chuckles, "Well, why don't we introduce you to the Saviors? Let them know who to listen to?"
I sigh, my body feeling even heavier as I sink further into the mattress. "I wanna stay here." I slur.
Nick grabs me by the shirt and pulls me roughly to sit up, "Let's go." He hisses through gritted teeth.
I nod and stand up, my body swaying as Negan leads me down the hallways.
My heartbeat and breathing stay slow, the drugs soothing the panic that hasn't stopped for a day.
Negan and Nick lead me up a flight of steps, above a big, gymnasium-like room.
There are seemingly hundreds of people below us, all kneeling.
Including prisoners. Including Daryl.
Negan must have called everyone to this room before he talked to me because he never told anyone to round everyone up. They were just here when we got here.
Negan stands beside me in the middle of the walkway about the gymnasium-like room. Below us, there are people, and tables with food, clothes, and medicine. There are beds, clothes hanging on clotheslines, and big windows near the ceiling, allowing natural light.
I highly scan the crowd for Daryl, not really knowing what I'm looking for anymore.
Negan claps his hands together, everyone stands and looks at him. "Today, is a damn excitin' day!" He announces.
"Adrian Walsh here," He motions to me.
I grab ahold of the railing to keep myself from falling over.
My eye is swollen underneath it and I have a few bruises on each side of my face, very noticeable. Though, I don't think anyone will question it.
"Is now, one of our lead fighters!"
Everyone claps as if forced to.
"Her boyfriend, Nick," I see someone's head look up quickly from the crowd.
Daryl.
His eyes widen at my high state. My heavy eyes and my flushed features. The swaying of my body and my grasp on the railing.
And no doubt, the bruises on my face.
"Has graciously allowed her to fight with us." Everyone cheers and whoop-whoops Nick.
"Now, Adrian may be a woman. But the size of her woman balls is massive, and I need you all to acknowledge that, alright?"
There's a collective amount of agreement and submission.
Negan nods approvingly, "Good! Fuck off!" He dismisses them, waving his hand.
I groan and fall into Nick as I get the familiar feeling of the world spinning around me.
The Fentanyl and concussion are not mixing very well.
"It's time for bed, yeah?" Nick suggests, roughly pushing me back up. "You can walk back."
I nod, "I know." I whisper, my eyes heavy and my legs weak.
Negan pats Nick on the back before walking away. Nick quickly turns to me and grabs me roughly by the arm, practically dragging me down the back steps, through the hallways, and back to his room.
He throws me on the bed, my body just lays limply and my eyes close heavily.
"What the fuck?!" He yells, slamming the door shut.
I just grunt, not really able to respond to him.
"You embarrassed me! Falling into me like that! What the fuck do you think this is?!"
I feel my body tense but the weight of the drugs doesn't allow me to fully react, I just lay on the bed, beginning to pass out.
"Hey!" He yells, grabbing my ankles and turning me over violently. He climbs over me and pins my arms above my head, my heavy eyes finally open in alarm.
Another punch lands on the right side of my face but I don't even feel it, I just snap my head to the left.
Nick huffs, unbuttoning his belt and lifting my shirt to reveal my stomach. He snaps his belt on my stomach twice, and each time I can actually feel it. My upper body shoots up each time, red lines appear on my stomach.
"I'm sick of this shit." He mumbles unbuttoning my pants and pulling them down my legs until they're hanging on only by my ankles.
Next are his pants, which he quickly discards next to the bed.
"Nick..." I whisper, trying to get him off of me while almost passing out.
"What's the rule?" He asks.
"Don't say no..."
A few hours later, I'm sober again. Nick left the room to go talk to Negan about something. He locked me in from the outside somehow, maybe with a chair.
After his stunt on my high body, he ranted to me about how bad the Alexandria group is. Saying shit like, "We didn't even know them. We just found those people on the road."
Once again, in typical Nick manner, every time I would protest, I would get slapped. He made me repeat everything he said, convincing me of his ideas.
Though I'm not listening to him.
I'm sitting in a ball in the corner of his room, my legs aching and my migraine acting as if it's trying to kill me.
You're a cheater. You cheated on Daryl. The man you love. The man who saved you when you overdosed. The man who carried you out of that building when you had just gotten concussed.
Finally, I allow the tears.
Uncontrollable, unconcealed sobs escape my mouth, my body quivering in its tight ball on the ground.
I wail, hiding my face in my arms and digging my nails into my bicep.
"Slut!" I scream at myself, digging my nails deeper into my arm.
I quickly stand up, pounding over to a drawer and searching quickly for a knife. A lighter. Anything.
Opening the drawer with the drugs, I celebrate quietly as I see a small pocket knife, probably used to open the drugs. I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders as I lock my eyes on the knife.
I sob as I grab it, sitting back down in my corner and opening it, the sharp end reflecting the overhead light.
As I dig the knife into my wrist, crimson blood dripping out of my wrist.
I sigh and lean my head back, allowing the painful tingles to zip up the veins in my arm.
But, technically, you never broke up with Nick.
You're cheating on Nick with Daryl.
Nick is the only man who actually treats you correctly. Who knows you. Nick's always right, always.
This is perfect that you're with him.
Fuck Daryl.
Fuck Rick.
Fuck Damien.
Fuck Alexandria.
(Author's Notes:) DO NOT LISTEN TO ANYTHING NICK SAYS, IGHT? NO MAN, WOMAN, ETC. SHOULD EVER FUCKING HIT YOU, TALK DOWN ON YOU, FORCE YOU TO DO SOMETHING YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH, OKAY? O-FUCKING-KAY? COOL.