Hi guys, I know it's been a while since I've updated. I'm sorry. The holidays are a super busy time for me but I'm back and super excited to get rolling with Negan and Jo again! I really hope you enjoy the update!
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I trailed after Negan. I wasn't exactly sure why he wanted me with him, but I wasn't going to argue. I needed to figure out what was happening here, and sticking close to Negan seemed like the best way to go about that. Merle and Simon had left to head back towards the market area while Negan led me towards his soldier's dorms.
All of these seemingly random incidents were beginning to add up to something serious. Individually, they seemed to me to be escalating and that was just the ones I was purvey to. Travis getting shot, the cut fence with the biters, the gunner in the market place, the sabotaged vehicles, and now the stolen guns. I tried to come up with some unifying theory behind why someone would orchestrate all these things, but none of it made sense. They seemed completely unrelated other than the fact that they had all happened over the last few days. But I agreed with Negan, there was no way this was a coincidence. Something was happening inside The Sanctuary. I hated the fact that I didn't know enough about the community itself to be much help.
Negan led me to several rooms where the soldiers of this place were gathered. Most were relaxing, play cards or some were even watching movies. It felt off, the workers I had met always seemed so busy, but these men somehow had idle time. This clear division of class bothered me, and in fact reminded me a little of Woodbury. It just solidified my decision to work for points along with Merle and Kate. I might not know everything there was to know about this place, but I trusted that if Merle thought it was better to be a worker, than I was with him.
I glanced towards Negan, but he never looked back at me. He left me to trail behind him like a silent bodyguard. This didn't seem to surprise anyone, so I assumed Negan often had a lacky of some kind with him. I resented that. I wasn't willing to become a tool for Negan any more than I was willing to become one of his little harem. It was no different in my eyes. But today, I could recognize that if we wanted to get information and get to the bottom of what was going on I would have to fall in line and play along.
It was an odd feeling. Every one of Negan's men raked their eyes over me, but they were clearly more afraid of Negan than me. I recognized some, which meant they had seen me do what I could do, and even knowing that, they feared him more. I already knew Negan was dangerous, but his men's actions just solidified the overwhelming feeling that Negan was the one and only Alpha here.
His men stood at attention and answered his questions as though he were a general of some kind, but he never acted like one. He laughed and teased and told jokes, but despite the smile on his face the tension in his shoulders never ceased and his men never once looked at ease in his presence.
We visited room after room, and what struck me most about these people was that they were all fighters. Maybe not exactly like me, but their eyes were all hard from the difficult things they had faced and they had all come out on top. I sort of felt like The Saviors was the wrong name for them. They were the survivors.
Negan led the way to the last door on the floor. He glanced back at me, seeming to acknowledge my presence for the first time in almost an hour. I had expected him to flirt and tease me while we worked, but instead it seemed his whole focus was on finding whoever had taken the guns. "Always the last place you look," he said, the words were meant to be light, but the underlying tension in his voice made me think he was more worried about not getting any answers than he was letting on. "Here we go," he said reaching for the door and flipping it open.
"So..." Negan drawled as he swaggered into what looked like a large lounge. There were ten people hanging around, most were sitting around a card table playing what looked like poker. Two others were throwing darts on the other side of the large room.
"Anyone notice anything suspicious lately? Have any insights into what went down today?" Negan began without preamble. The men all froze and I could practically feel their thoughts going into overdrive. Some looked surprised by his words while others looked contemplative. Most shook their heads and refused to meet Negan's gaze. I was a little surprised word hadn't traveled faster through the compound, but then it had only been a couple hours since it all happened.
One of the men frowned, he opened his mouth like he was going to say something but then snapped it shut.
Negan noticed and cocked his head to the side. "Oh come on, there's no need to stand on ceremony." His voice was tight and I could tell his patience was running slim.
To be honest, so was mine. A lot had happened in a very short period of time and I was reaching my maximum capacity for being around strangers. Literally everyone we had spoken with were fighters, it was beginning to be a struggle to keep things in perspective. My mind naturally wanted to categorize everyone I came across as a threat. I had spent all of my time since leaving Woodbury trying to get that part of my brain to shut off, even for a second. Today was not helping. Every person we spoke to was a threat, and they looked at me like I was a threat as well.
The man's eye cut to me suspiciously and then he looked back at Negan. He shrugged.
Negan's eyes narrowed and he took a dangerous step forward, the tension immediately rising in his shoulders. "You got something to say?" Negan demanded.
Something that may have been the beginnings of fear swam behind the man's eyes.
I glanced at Negan but he hadn't done anything. Nothing in his posture had changed, which made me think it had to have been something in his eyes that had this man suddenly looking so uneasy.
The man shifted again and sniffed.
"Please," Negan said with a welcoming gesture "Share it with the class!"
The man shifted in his seat and looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in the hot seat in front of the boss. "There's been talk..." the man started his eyes cut to me and flickered back to Negan. "Not me, I don't think it, but I've heard talk..."
"Cut the shit," Negan snarled, interrupting. He took an aggressive step towards the man.
"It-it ah...it...p-people," the man finally stammered out. "People have noticed all of this has been going on around her," he said jerking his chin in my direction. "S-since sh-she came."
Negan made a sound low in his chest and took another step forward. He stabbed his finger into the man's chest. "My hot friend, huh? You weren't there so you might have overlook the fact that she was laying in a bed in the infirmary when ol' Trav was shot. I didn't," Negan growled the last words and then his face smoothed into the terrifyingly dangerous smile. "She was fifty feet above that fence the was cut to let the biters in and then risked her life to save the workers caught out in the court yard with a pair of phillips head screwdrivers. She ran balls to wall straight into the market with nothing but a piece of shit hunting knife...remind me again, where were you when bullets started flying?" Negan asked tightly. "You think she knocked over the armory? What the shit does a woman like her need with a gun!? Huh?"
"I ain't saying she would. I'm just saying-" The man's eyes were wide, but I could tell by the tension in his body he wasn't as submissive as his words would suggest.
Part of me didn't want to say anything. I could just keep standing silently behind Negan like I had all day. But the way the men in this room kept looking at me, convinced me I needed to do something to prove I belonged here. That I wasn't the cause for the trouble and they didn't get to use me for a convenient scapegoat just because people were afraid of me.
"Gossip," I said thoughtfully. All eyes cut to me as though they were surprised . I strutted forward, my fingers teasing along the handles of my knives.
Negan froze and curiosity glittered in his eyes as though he had been waiting for me to say something. He took a step back from the man as I stepped in closer. I had to practically brush against him so I was standing in front of the other men. I could feel his eyes on me, but he made no move to stop me. It gave me confidence and I lifted my chin a hair so even though the man was taller than me, it gave the impression I was looking down at him.
"There is something serious going on here and you're going to listen to gossip?" I challenged. I kept my voice low and level. "Fifty other people came at the same time I did," I said. "That's fifty people who don't have the alibis I do...what do you think just one of those fifty could do with five guns?"
The man narrowed his eyes but he kept his distance. He was doing a good job of keeping a handle on his emotions and controlling his expressions, but I wanted to see what was below that. I wanted to shake him up so I could see a natural reaction, not just the show he put on because Negan was standing over my shoulder.
"You call yourself a soldier?" I challenged and I snorted, shaking my head as though I were disappointed.
His jaw tightened and his hands closed into fists. Now I was getting somewhere. Insulting his ego had gotten him to forget about Negan. His eyes were glittering dangerously. I glanced at the men behind him. They were all watching curiously, but no one else seemed as aggressive as this man.
"More than you little girl," he growled taking a step towards me.
This time when I snorted it wasn't fake. "If you believe that, you are as blind as you are stupid." I growled, my teeth on edge. I flexed my fingers and it took everything in me to stop myself from going for a knife.
He took another step towards me and the whole room started to fade away. My heart started to pound too loudly in my ears as my eyes narrowed and settled on his hands and his shoulders. He had started out as just another asshole in a whole community of assholes, but now he was starting to feel like a potential threat.
"Careful," Negan's voice growled, but it sounded further away than it should have. The last time I checked, Negan had only been standing a foot or so behind me. Now he sounded like he was at the end of a long hallway.
"I'm always careful," I replied in a tight voice, though I didn't know if he was close enough to hear me.
Negan's laugh was a low growl in his chest and it caught my attention. "Oh, I wasn't talking about you my Hot Friend."
It took everything in me, but I managed to pull my gaze off the man in front of me to Negan. He was still standing just a foot away from me, but his presence felt like he took up more space than he should. I didn't think he was trying to be imposing but his eyes were locked dangerously on the man in front of us. His jaw flexed and he was close enough I could see the five o'clock shadow that covered his cheeks.
As though Negan could feel my eyes on him, his gaze cut to mine. He was close, too close. I sucked in a breath as my heart started thundering out of control and it had nothing to do with the potential fight building in this room.
I didn't want to fight. I shouldn't. I didn't have enough control to know if I started if I could be stopped. It was one thing to turn myself loose on a herd of biters when the people near by looked like victims. No one in this room was a victim and I could feel that like a weight settling into the back of my skull.
Stop, reset.
I needed to diffuse before things went too far and I couldn't come back. Negan had fought beside me against the walkers and with me against the man in the market, but I didn't think he would be as likely to back me up if I lost control on his men.
I turned my gaze back to the man standing in front of me. Diffusing a situation wasn't something I had gotten much practice with over the last year, but I refused to be part of the problem. I cocked my head to the side and slide my eyes up and down him making it obvious I was unimpressed with what I saw.
I turned back to Negan dismissing the man entirely. "Was there anyone else you wanted to speak with?" I could practically feel the rage rolling off the man behind me, but I forced myself to keep my eyes on Negan. I watched his face carefully for any sign the man behind me was going to attack.
Negan barked out a surprised laugh. "Naw, I think you covered it," He turned and headed towards the door. He held it open for me. "Ladies first," he said and when he smiled at me it had too much teeth and was too aggressive. I drew in a deep breath as I realized just how close the threat of violence had been. Negan's eyes were still locked on the man I had perceived as a threat. It seemed Negan felt the same way, only the alpha in him wasn't willing to let it go as quickly as I was.
Feeling the need to diffuse the tension somehow I let my shoulder brush against his as I stepped past him. His head snapped around to look down at me. I had caught him by surprise. His nostrils flared and his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. The man behind us was forgotten as he followed behind me out into the hall.
"Well that was a gigantic waste of time," Negan grumbled after the door clicked shut behind us. He cracked his neck and looked down at me. "You good?" he asked and though he kept his voice casual I could still hear the underlying concern.
I nodded and exhaled, stretching my arms over my head. That had been close. I closed my eyes for a second, I could feel that part of myself, that dark part of my brain was still too close to the surface. I drew in another breath and tried desperately to tuck those parts away.
Stop, reset.
"You notice anything useful, other than Soderhill's stupidity?" Negan asked wryly, but his eyes were serious as he studied my face. I couldn't help feeling like he was reading me as easily as I read most other people. I didn't like it. It made me uncomfortable for someone else to know how much I was struggling. It felt like a weakness. It felt like losing.
I forced myself to snort. "Just way too much testosterone," I replied glibly but then I shrugged. "Even if there was something, I wouldn't kn-" I started to say but he cut me off.
"Don't do that, don't give me that self deprecating bull shit. You see it and you know it."
I pressed my lips together but I didn't know how to respond. After a few moments I cleared my throat. "Look, in there, I'm sorry if I-"
Negan turned to look at me, arching a brow. "You're sorry?" he mocked. "Let me tell you something Hot Friend, this isn't grade school, and those pricks will run over the top of you if they think they can. Now clearly that asshole in there hasn't been witness to any of your truly impressive performances. He's missed the show and doesn't realize he should be kissing your feet instead of mouthing off."
I grunted in annoyance and turned to look at him. Amusement was glinting in his eyes and I could tell he was pleased he had gotten a reaction out of me. He was poking just to see what I would do. I wasn't going to play his game. I wasn't here for his amusement and it grated on my nerves to think that might be the only reason he brought me with him.
"It isn't a show," I growled in a tight voice. I hated feeling like a freak and that seemed to be happening more and more here.
He let out an irritated sigh and stalked around me. "You've got talent Hot Friend. A lot of talent."
I frowned and Negan just smiled at me in that infuriating way of his. "But, you need to learn how to appreciate it and...have some fun with it."
I pulled back at that and shook my head. "You've got it all wrong," I told him. "I need more control, if I..." I dragged off and my gaze locked on the cement at my feet. I couldn't even think what it would be like. "I wouldn't stop," I said, but my voice came out a hoarse whisper. I had been like that down in that cage and I couldn't let myself go there again. I wouldn't come back.
Stop, reset.
I lifted my eyes to meet his. Negan cocked his head to the side and stared at me for a long time. I didn't squirm, I just stared back, refusing to be the first one to look away. The only problem with that was after a certain amount of time I couldn't hide it anymore. From only inches away and holding eye contact I couldn't hide all the things that lived in my head. Instead of looking afraid however, Negan just stared back.
He shrugged. "Maybe you need some meditation or some yoga shit. That's not for me to say, but what you can do," he let out a low whistle and shook his head. "That's not something you apologize for and it sure as shit isn't something you should be ashamed of. You know who should be ashamed? Those pricks who make you feel like shit." He took a step closer to me and his eyes were more sincere than I had ever seen them. "You act like you're some kind of monster," he reached up and looked for a second like he might touch my face, but then he dropped his hand and he shook his head. "You're a goddess."
I scowled at him. A slow smile stretched across his face, breaking the serious atmosphere and softening his words.
I scoffed and turned to go. His hand closed around my upper arm. He turned me around and I was tense, ready to fight back, ready for an attack. He released my arm just before I was ready to pull away, but in that moment he stepped forward into my space, driving me back into the wall. It was stupid of me. I had let myself become too hyper-focused on where his hand had grabbed me and now he had me caged between himself and the wall.
My breathing kicked up and my chest started heaving as I fought to keep control of the overwhelming urge I had to fight back. But he wasn't hurting me, he wasn't fighting me, so I didn't need to fight back.
"Look at me sweetheart," his voice was a low rumble in his chest and suddenly I wasn't thinking about fighting anymore.
My breath hitched and when I lifted my chin to meet his eyes it caught in my throat. His eyes were like liquid chocolate, so dark that even this close I couldn't see the line around the pupil. Whatever he saw in my eyes he took it as invitation because he took another step closer. He was so close now his chest brushed mine as he breathed and it wasn't just his heat I could feel. I could feel his heart beat, his breath, his warmth, and for just a moment I wanted to wrap myself in it.
He moved his hand and instead of flinching away I let out a shuddering breath. The backs of his fingers glided along my cheekbone. "You belong here Jo," I could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest and it was low and soothing. My eyes felt heavy and drifted shut. It had been so long since someone touched me like this. Made me feel like this.
But this was Negan. It was Negan.
As soon as I thought it I jerked back from him. He let me go, immediately stepping away, and holding his hands up. I could see on his face he thought I was having some kind of episode. But that wasn't it. It wasn't that I couldn't do this, it was that I couldn't do this with him specifically. I wouldn't. I stepped back away from him putting more space between us.
We stared at one another the silence stretching endlessly between us.
The sudden sound of a chair clattering to the floor followed by glass shattering finally broke the tension between us. There was shouting and a lot of swearing that had Negan and I running back for the room we had just left.
The man who had felt like a threat to me, Soderhill Negan had called him, had another, smaller man backed against the wall. Negan stepped in to the side and ran his eyes over the other men in the room. I didn't hesitate, I charged in, running straight for Soderhill. Negan had unbalanced me out in the hall, distracted me, made me question myself. But this, this I understood. I knew how to handle this.
I let my body slide into motion and it felt like the first gasp of air after breaking the surface. I could breathe. I grabbed Soderhill by the back of his shirt and pulled him off the other man, spinning around and slamming him against the wall. He grunted on impact, crying out in surprise. Instead of stepping back gratefully however the smaller man moved towards Soderhill, intent on taking advantage of the situation. I held a hand against Soderhill's chest and turned to the oncoming man. Negan however was there and yelling at the smaller man as he and another man pulled him back.
I was just turning back to face Soderhill when someone yelled and pain cracked across my left cheek, snapping my head painfully to the right. I hadn't expected it, which was the only reason he landed a second blow. After his backhand he slammed his fist into my stomach. I gasped as the breath rushed out of my lungs and my mind went completely blank. That wave that had been lapping at me all day surged forward and I was gone.
I didn't wait to catch my breath. My body didn't need to wait. I brought my knee up hard and fast. He moved to protect his groin and I slammed my elbow down on the back of his neck as hard as I could. He grunted. I jumped, slamming my opposite knee upwards, catching him in the face as he went down. His head snapped backwards and he fell back, but I pounced. Riding his body to the floor. I went up on all fours. My knees digging into his upper thighs just below his hips, pressing painfully into the tendons and nerve clusters. I slammed my left forearm across his windpipe, pressing against it with all my strength and I leveled one of my new favorite knives inches above his left eye.
He stilled beneath me, his entire focus on the knife he hadn't seen me pull. I had been too fast and he fought like a boxer. He had been waiting for the next punch, not watching for the glint of a blade.
The only sound in the room was my breath coming erratically in short sharp pants. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think past the feel of the knife clenched in my fist. I tightened my grip as though it would help somehow. My whole arm trembled with the force I was holding onto the blade. I gripped the knife until it hurt, until the pain radiating up and down my arm and through my hand into the sensitive nerves in my fingers pushed its way to the forefront of my mind.
The room felt dark around me, like the walls were closing in, like I couldn't breathe. I tried pulling in more air and I made a quiet gasping noise which seemed to echo around us. I was out of control. I was raging, I could feel it running through me like lava through my veins and I couldn't pull it back. I had to strike, had to eliminate what had caused this feeling. This wasn't safe. I wasn't safe.
I leaned further into my forearm and the threat beneath me made a strangled noise as he fought to breathe. Just like me. Now I wasn't the only one choking in this room. He tried to move again, to buck me off, but I clamped down, tightening every muscle I had to hold him in place. And suddenly I couldn't be sure I was't back in that ring again. I had no way of knowing for certain if it was The Governor's men moving just outside my field of vision and if they were going to come in and finally end it.
"Don't goddamn move!" In that moment my capacity for hearing returned as some part of my brain recognized that voice. It was powerful and laced with authority. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of my brain the animalistic instincts which had kept me alive this long recognized it as another alpha. And most importantly of all it recognized him. Which meant I wasn't in the ring. I couldn't be in the ring. Which meant this attack had been personal, the threat was directed at me.
The threat beneath me shifted again, as though he were preparing for another chance to fight back and I tightened again. It took every ounce of strength I had to only move the knife another centimeter closer to his eye. I stared down at him, but I didn't see a person. There was only my knife and a threat that if eliminated effectively could never come back to hurt me again.
"I said don't fucking move!" he roared again. He was just behind me and I could feel his presence like a building storm, but he never made a move towards me.
All of the yelling and movement that had been swirling around me came to a sudden stop. Every single person in the room stilled when he ordered it, and that included the threat beneath me.
The next time his voice came it was closer, and infinitely more calm. "Jo," he said the name softly, like it should mean something, but it didn't. It couldn't. I didn't know who that was. All I could feel was the cool steel beneath my fingertips. I moved the blade another centimeter and a blossom of relief opened up in my chest. My skin was itching for movement, for a fight. I had been holding back and it was welling up inside of me like a wave I couldn't stop or control. I shook with the force of it.
"Sir-" someone started to say. The voice was cut off but I didn't listen to what the next words were. I just focused on that voice again. It was a low rumble and it soothed my fraying nerves in a way I didn't understand. I closed my eyes and listened to just the sound of it. I couldn't do this, not like this. I didn't want to spill this man's blood. I knew that. It didn't matter what he had done. Somewhere deep inside of me I knew I would regret that. I let that regret and shame take me and pull me back from the edge.
When I opened my eyes again it was like I had sound once more and I could think and remember.
"Come on sweetheart," his voice was just behind me. I heard him draw in a breath and even though he wasn't touching me, he was close enough I felt him tense. Then one hand locked around the wrist holding the knife at the same moment his other arm snaked around my waist. He jerked me up and backwards into his chest and I let him. I had seen him fight, he was strong enough and fast enough to stop me. He had also protected me when I was injured. He would make sure everyone was safe from me but I knew, knew, deep down to the marrow of my bones, with every instinct driving me that I was safe with him. My rational mind might argue the point later, but right now, I believed it.
He spun us away from the other men, lifting and turning as though I weighed nothing. He pinned me up against a wall. I hit with enough force to jar me, but he caught me before my head or face hit with any kind of force. He pinned my knife hand against the wall, pressing my wrist against the cold cinder blocks. One of his legs tangled through mine but I had no intention of trying to get away. I let out a shuddering gasp, not realizing I had been holding my breath since he first touched me.
"Shhh," he was whispering into my ear. My hair ruffled and tickled against my neck and I pinched my eyes shut, trying to focus on those sensations rather than the desire to fight back and protect myself.
His chest pressed against my back and through our shirts I could feel the thunder of his heart beat, slower and yet somehow louder than my own, more steady. Mine felt like a bomb ready to go off. I fought to draw in another ragged breath and it burned my throat and my eyes watered.
"Shhh," he cooed again. This time I could feel his lips where they moved near my ear and it helped. His steady, even breaths grounded me as I fought to slow the shallow erratic pants that had my chest heaving and left me feeling out of control.
His thumb drew a soothing line up and down the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist holding the knife.
"Shhh, you're okay sweetheart," his words were so quite and private no one else would have been able to hear them. "You're safe," he promised me.
You're safe
I let out a strangled gasp as those words echoed through the dark corners of my mind. I was safe. I was safe.
I was safe.
But how could that be possible? None of us were safe with all of this going on around us, and yet, I believed him. It took every ounce of my strength to pry my cramping fingers loose of the knife. But when I let it go and it clattered against the floor it was like something in my chest broke loose as well. I felt like a dam about to burst. Tears burned the backs of my eyes. I had to get out of here. I had to get away.
He sagged against me in relief, burying his face in my hair. "Thank you," he whispered and it felt like he was thanking me for trusting him. He stiffened, drawing the mantle of 'Negan' back around himself as he straightened. He took a step back, releasing me.
I turned to face him and he was still only inches away. His breath fell against my skin and his eyes burned with intensity. He was so close. My skin itched again and standing there by myself I felt cut adrift. I suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable standing in front of him with tears in my eyes.
I had sworn I would never be vulnerable again. I would never yield, and I would never let another person control me. I had fought Phillip with every part of myself. Somehow that made it even more frightening that I had willingly yielded to Negan. I hadn't even thought about it, it had been almost instinctual. That terrified me. And it made him so much more dangerous.
I tried to step back away from him, but my back hit the wall and I instantly felt trapped. Claustrophobia clawed it's way up my throat and I turned for the door and fled.
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Well, what did you think? ...I hope you liked it!!! I missed you guys so much! I can't wait to get started on the next chapter already!