Grief wasn't new by any means.

After all they were in a fucking zombie apocalypse. People died all the time. And that's where all of them were actually going. Either with a bullet and something run through their skull and buried under rotting flesh and dirt or one of those undead things that no one was really a fan of.

But just because of all of that, Negan had half expected the feeling of grief to dull, to sag like a wrinkly pair of tits.

But the pain was the same. That almost angry itching at the pit of his stomach was the same when he clicked off that walkie talkie and in one fluid motion, raised his hand to hurl it down at the ground.

"Goddammit."

He stopped short of destroying the device, knowing full well that supplies were low enough as it was without him throwing a damn walkie talkie around like a little bitch.

The Savior that had handed him the walkie talkie in the first place, had kept his distance, cleaning a gun against a wall a few yards away. He was almost too inconspicuous.

"Boss?" He asked, practically yelling but acting as if he was just next to Negan instead of far away enough to not read Negan's face.

Negan instantly turned to grin widely at him and he could see the other man's Adam's apple bob a bit in response. He started walking towards the Savior, his long legs quick to gap between them.

"Rick's kid is dead. Died like a champ." Negan's face tilted as he appeared to all too happily relayed the information. He extended his hand with the walkie talkie to the Savior and gave him a content nod. The man took the walkie talkie quickly and took a step off to the side as if to leave. His foot instead hit one of Negan's black boots, blocking him from trying to get out of the conversation. "Did he say anything before he asked for me?"

"No, just that he was Rick Grimes and to 'give him Negan'."

"What did he sound like?"

"Sound like?"

"You know - did he sound like he had a stick up his ass, shaking, like he was able to get his dick sucked - what did he sound like?" Negan leaned closer, his grin frozen in place and his eyebrows raised in question. The Savior stood his ground, his placed foot now just awkwardly brushing against his boot.

"...kinda frustrated, I guess?" The Savior had a guessing tone to his answer. He turned his head to the sky. "A bit shaky. But then strong." He nodded to the sky before looking back at Negan expectantly. "Anything else?"

Negan nodded and stepped back, letting the Savior walk off. If he had to guess, the news of the kid's demise would be known by all that man's friends within the hour, along with the all too flippant encounter he had had with the "boss".

He would have to remember him. What was his name? Eric? Robert? Something plain, he was sure.

The place was still buzzing with activity, as people prepared guns, cars, anything else that looked mildly useful. Not many people had seemed to notice the exchange and if they had, they were hiding it extremely well. Leaning back to stretch out his back a bit, Negan gave one last glance around again before heading back into the building. He felt his legs carry him away from the main floor and up the stairs almost blindly. Since the flood of walkers, the main floor was no longer a hustling center of trade and bartering but instead, a hub of gathering supplies. The footsteps were heavy yet rushed. If he truly looked closely, he would see almost all the faces in the room turn to face him as he passed by. The looks of barely disguised fear, the looks of hope, and looks of admiration of a few, mostly young men.

But Negan's legs were the ones in charge at the moment and so he didn't notice any of this.

His legs brought him past some higher ranking Saviors that were talking together near some of the "meeting" rooms. He nodded to them automatically but continued to his room without pausing. In two long strides, he had entered the room and closed the door behind him. Without so much of another thought, he began to unbutton his jacket, eyes staring blankly ahead.

"Negan...I've been waiting..."

He blinked, before looking down at the spot of floor near the fire. Curled in what looked like one of his wives staring into the fire away from him, barely covered by the blanket she had taken from his bed. While her upper body was wrapped in the cloth, he could see her back of her bare legs poking out of the bundle she was wrapped in.

He did like her legs.

"Negan?"

She turned just her face over her shoulder and her face changed from a doubtful look to a smile. "It is you."

At that, she rose up slowly, letting the cloth pool beneath, no doubt a move she had practiced at some point. Her steps towards him were slow and purposeful, her hips swaying in unnatural angles.

Negan pulled off the rest of his jacket by the time she had walked up to be directly in from of him. She placed both of her hands on his chest, over the white t-shirt he still had on. "Hey big boy."

The man stared over her head in boredom, though to her, he imagined it just looked stoic, which was fine by him. Rachel always had too much of the wrong type of enthusiasm in the dirty talk department but he would always ignore her...or stuff her mouth with something so he didn't have to think too much.

As her hands ran further down his body, he couldn't help wishing he had drank before he had opened the door.

AN: I swear I had an ending for this in mind - one more chapter I think - or maybe 2. O.o I feel very rusty in writing and in writing Negan in general honestly. But being me of course, I wanted to write something about after that talk. Happy Sunday!