The prisoner was on his knees, his eyes ringed in black and his skin ghost pale where it wasn't swathed in bruises. He eyed the plate with tired interest but made no move to take it despite his hollow cheeks. Dwight was well aware of how long it had been since the man had eaten a decent meal. He'd stood guard while Negan conducted his 'interrogations'. A dog food sandwich wasn't a filling meal, especially when you puked it up shortly after eating thanks to repeated kicks to the ribs.
His eyes didn't leave Daryl's as he took a bite of the sandwich and then a spoon full of soup. The glass of water, he left untouched. Negan watered his prisoners frequently. Dehydration was a hell of a lot harder to treat than hunger since IVs weren't exactly thick on the ground.
"I need your help." He didn't miss the derisive snort; in fact, he was glad to see it because it meant Daryl wasn't broken yet. "We're a lot alike, you and me. He'll see that eventually and then he'll know. That's how he works. He finds your weakness and he uses them against you. He'll find all your buttons and he'll push them. He gets off on it." Dwight nudged the plate closer, watching how those hooded blue eyes followed it.
"He took my wife and called her his. Did this to my face when I tried to see her. He laughed when he told me the only reason I was still alive was because she was such a good fuck. Gave him the best ride of his life." Fists clenched tightly at his sides as he remembered. "What would you do to keep the one you love safe? Would you kneel, Daryl? Would you take orders and bide your time until the chance came to get out ahead?"
"Ain't the same."
It was the first response from the man, a tiny chink in his armor, and it gave Dwight the opening he needed. "I can get you out, not back to your people but with a group that might help us get rid of the fucker. Alexandria can't fight him alone. Neither can Hilltop. They need more men, more supplies. They'll get both from the Kingdom but we'll have to convince Ezekiel to join us."
"Us? There ain't no us. You think I'm stupid enough to believe a word you say."
It was time to play his ace in the hole. Dwight breathed in deep and exhaled slowly, stepping in close so that Daryl would hear each and every word. "He'll figure it out eventually. He always does. Tell me, Daryl, does the name Carol mean anything to you? Is that one you want Negan to hear?" He was rewarded when Daryl rose up on his knees, blue eyes burning beneath his fringe, stopped only by the short length of chain securing him to the wall.
"I've seen her, talked to her. Made a deal…your safety in exchange for her help recruiting Ezekiel." Dwight shrugged noncommittally. "They way I see it, this can go one of two ways. I get you out of here and on your way to the Kingdom. You and your Carol will help me kill the fucker before he kills us all. Or I give Negan a hint as to how he can keep his new toy in line. It's your call, man. Make it."
Daryl settled back on his heels and bowed his head, the chain clinking softly on the concrete floor as he shifted until he could reach the plate. He never said a word as he slowly ate the sandwich and took tiny sips of the lukewarm soup. Dwight knew then that he'd won; that he had an ally, however unwilling, in his shadow war against Negan. Like it or not, the dye was cast and the game begun. They'd declared war on Negan and the only way to win was to go all in. And they had to win. No matter what they had to do or what it cost. They had no other choice.