This started out as a secret santa gift on tumblr. I was lucky enough to be paired with my Internet soul mate, Catherine Morgenstern. Knowing her obsession with Negan, I wrote her this; which quickly spiralled into a full length Fic. She has also been kind enough to act as beta, soundboard and enthusiastic cheerleader. Honestly, she's the absolute best.
The dream started immediately. It always did, hovering like an oily shadow that grew bigger the moment she closed her eyes. There was no escaping it and it never changed. Ever.
She was laying in bed, her eyes screwed shut against the bright sunlight that streamed through the window and onto her face, almost burning the skin on her cheek. Outside, the sound of a bird interrupted the silence. Catherine scowled and contemplated using her gun to shoot the damn thing. She even reached across to tap her fingertip against the handle of her glock. One, two, three times.
A startled yell eclipsed the birdsong, instantly bringing Catherine to her feet. In the blink of an eye she was standing in the yard. The edges of the world blurred as she saw her friend, Alexx, standing beside a walker. He was dead. His head caved in, rotting brain, putrid blood; and yellow pus leaking onto the grass around him. Her eyes traced over his bloated features, pausing on the smear of blood circling his lips. It looked fresh.
Time slowed as the dream switched into a nightmare. The light faded and the air thickened with the stench of death. Catherine's eyes moved from the walker to Alexx. There was a chunk of flesh missing from the top of her shoulder. It was bleeding heavily, staining the blue top she wore a bright crimson. But it was the look in her eyes that tore at Catherine's heart. She knew what it meant. They both did.
The dream shifted again and Catherine was standing beside a bed. Every breath she took smelt of decay. She could practically feel the heat rising from Alexx's body as the infection burnt through her. Sweat beaded her forehead and her eyes had a glazed, unfocused look. Her lips mouthed words that Catherine had ceased to hear. But she knew what Alexx was saying. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.
Catherine shook her head even as her hand lifted and pointed the gun at Alexx. The metal felt ice-cold in her palm and so heavy her hand trembled like a wind blown leaf. Time slowed as Catherine bent lower and pressed the barrel against her friend's temple. Holding her breath, she met Alexx's gaze, heart clenching at the anguished look hidden inside her eyes.
The boom of the gun firing rattled her brain and the room suddenly began to rain blood. She fell back, blinking, but before she hit the ground, Catherine woke, the scent of gunpowder lingering on the air. Her body was covered in sweat and her fingers twitched around a gun that wasn't there.
"Verdammte Scheiße!" Catherine muttered, reverting to her mother tongue as the dream continued to hover on the edge of her consciousness. She pressed the heels of her palms over her eyes and forced herself to stand. To move.
It helped. Although, she knew the dream would never truly leave her. Dreams born from memories very rarely did. So instead she walked, placing one foot in front of the other until the hours fell away. The landscape changed and she found herself on the edge of a town.
That's when she heard the sound. It was so unexpected that she stopped moving. She stopped breathing. Everything around her blurred as the off-key whistling floated into her ears. It had been so long since she'd heard the sound of another human being that she didn't know what to do. Walkers she could deal with; kill or run. No other thoughts were required, her body worked on instinct, impaling rotten walker flesh or running so hard that her lungs felt like they might explode. But another human? Catherine's usually intelligent brain went blank.
The thud of a booted foot sounded behind her.
"What the fuck do we have here, Lucille? It looks like a stranger in our fuckin' midst." A deep voice spoke in her ear. "You wanna tell me what you're doing in my backyard, doll?"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm walking." She spoke to the air in front of her, refusing to turn.
A low chuckle made her tense. "I'm gonna let your disrespect go this time, darlin', cause you don't know who I am. But the next time you speak to me, you're gonna want to turn around and look me in the fucking eye."
"And if I don't?"
"Shit on a stick!" His amused voice bounced off the nearby buildings. "You got some balls tucked up inside that tight little pussy of yours? Jesus." He stepped in close, aligning his body along the length of her back. "If you don't fuckin' do it, sweetheart, then you're going to meet with Lucille. And I can guaran-fuckin'-tee, you ain't gonna like that. Nobody does."
Catherine felt a tremor of unease settle in her stomach at the stranger's words. "I just want to pass through and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it."
She took a step away and finally turned to face him.
In front of her stood a tall, slim man. He was wearing a black leather jacket that shone in the harsh sunlight. A deep red scarf circled his neck, emphasizing black hair and tanned skin. The lower half of his face was covered by a close-cropped silvery beard and a wide grin stretched his lips. In his hand he held a baseball bat that had been wrapped in barbed wire. A gun was tucked into the waistband of his trousers.
"Well, hello there, doll. Ain't you a pretty one. Shit. It would be a real fuckin' shame to crush that pretty little head of yours." He sucked air through his teeth and shook his head in mock regret. "But I'll do it. Yes, indeed, I fuckin' will. If you don't start showing me some respect, I will introduce you to Lucille and, as we've already established, you don't want to meet her, darlin'."He took a sliding step towards her. "Let's start over, huh? Cause I feel like we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Don't know why." He grinned but the expression never quite reached his eyes. "I'm Negan and you, well, you ain't from around these parts, are you?"
"Whatever gave you that idea?" she spat out.
"Now. Now. Didn't we just talk about respect? I know we did." His voice rose and fell in sing song rhythm that she wasn't sure she liked. "I'm gonna give you one more fuckin' chance to answer my questions, doll. And to be sure that we're on the same page and you understand how serious I am, I'm just gonna put Lucille right here."
Catherine froze as he lifted the bat and placed the blunt end on top of her shoulder. She could feel the point of one of the barbs pressing into her skin. Negan smiled at the scowl that crept onto her face.
"We'll start with the simple stuff, shall we? I'm even gonna give you a helping hand. And you know why that is? Cause I'm a stand up guy." The smile dropped from his lips. "I can tell by that prissy fuckin' accent that you weren't born on this side of the world, doll. I want to say you're from England, but I can detect the tiniest hint of something fuckin' else hiding in that voice."
"I'm German." Catherine stared defiantly into his eyes as she spoke.
"Damn! You are a loooong way from home, sweetheart." Negan stared down at her, that infuriating grin tugging at his lips. "And shit. Now you find yourself in unfriendly territory with Lucille resting on your pretty little shoulder. Can your day get any worse?"
"It will get better, just as soon as you let me go."
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Negan's tongue came out to trace his bottom lip. "Shit. I'm gonna have to check for those balls, aren't I?"
Catherine's eyes widened when she felt his fingers brush up the inside of her thigh. She backed away, her hands reaching up to her shoulders to grasp the long daggers strapped to her back. They slid free of their sheaths with a quiet hiss. "You don't get to touch me."
Negan chuckled. "Feisty! I like that." He brought Lucille up until she was level with Catherine's cool blue eyes. "However, you see that look you're giving me? That look that says you want to slide those perilously sharp knives right between my ribs? That look? I can't allow that."
The snarky reply never made it out of Catherine's lips. Instead, the sound of walkers filled the air. A low, wet gurgle that reminded her of a draining plughole. She looked over Negan's shoulder to see at least thirty of them rounding a building. She sighed, irritated that she'd either have to fight or run.
"Damn. I guess your day just got worse after all, doll. Fuck. You have the shittiest luck." Negan turned in a slow circle. Casually scanning the area. "Looks like we're surrounded."
Catherine turned her head to see another group closing in from the back and sides. There were too many of them to fight off and she doubted very much that Negan would try saving anyone but himself. Her eyes darted around, taking in each of the buildings and immediately disregarding them. There wasn't an intact door in sight and every window was smashed. But then her eyes caught on the rusted tangle of a fire escape that was peeping from between two buildings. Without uttering a word to Negan, she ran towards the alley.
Her boots thudded on the ground, kicking up small clouds of dust. The walkers were still far enough apart from each other that she would be able to get through without needing to kill too many. She held her knives out, preparing to swipe at the nearest. The stench of decaying flesh filled her throat as the walker came within reach. He was listing to the side as he stumbled towards her. One arm was missing at the shoulder, leaving behind stringy muscle and putrid skin. Catherine plunged a knife into his eye without even breaking stride. He dropped, his head splitting the moment it hit the ground.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Negan swinging Lucille in a slow, steady rhythm. A pile of bodies lay on the blood-splattered ground around him. He was grinning as he swung, but Catherine could see that he was slowly making his way to the fire escape. Her attention returned to her own route. It was blocked by two walkers. The first she kicked out the side of its knee and brought the knife down and into the back of its skull in one swift move.
The second made it through her defences and she jammed her arm into its throat, thankful for the thick leather jacket she wore. The sturdy material had saved her on more than one occasion, even though it was hotter than hell to wear. Whilst it was occupied with trying to chew through, she jammed her knife into its head. The blade slid into the crumbling skull like butter, shoving the walker away, she sprinted to the fire escape. Her breath was harsh and fast in her ears. Fumbling the knives back into the crossed sheaths on her back she hit the wall before jumping up to grasp the bottom rung of the ladder. She missed.
"Fuck!" The word hissed out of her mouth in pure frustrated anger.
" . Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to swear." Negan jumped up, effortlessly catching the rusted ladder and pulling it down with an alarming creak.
"Holy fuck fucking fuck fuckity fuck," Catherine muttered, barely hesitating as she shoved him aside and jumped on the ladder.
Negan gave a low chuckle. "Well, fuck. I've found myself a dirty-mouthed girl with a mighty fine arse."
Catherine clenched her teeth, but continued to climb the ladder. It rattled and swayed, the bent rungs threatening to give at any moment. She glanced down to see that Negan was just behind her, he was somehow managing to climb the ladder with Lucille clasped in one hand. The alley below them was teeming with walkers.
She tightened her lips and forced herself to move. One careful foot after another until she reached the top. The area of roof that she could see was clear. Still, she was cautious as she stepped off the ladder and onto the rooftop. A second later Negan joined her, a blood-soaked Lucille held at his side.
"Well that was fun. Fuck! Me! Lucille got herself a shit load of drinking done, didn't she? Take a look at my dirty girl." Negan lifted the bat up for her to see.
Thick blood dripped from the end in a continuous stream. "Lovely," Catherine said, turning away to look down at the walker filled alley. "We'll have to wait for them to clear out," she murmured to herself.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart." Negan came to stand beside her, close enough that she could smell him. Leather and…something she couldn't quite identify. A faint, sweet smell that lingered. "My men will be along just as quickly as you can say easy peasy lemon squeezy." The humour leaked out of his face. "Now, where were we before those fuckers interrupted us? Oh, I know. Yes I do. I was about to instruct you on how you're allowed to look at me."
Catherine shivered at the deep timbre that rattled out of his throat. It made something low in her stomach twitch in a way she refused to think about. Turning to face him, she kept her face carefully blank. And that's when she saw it. A flash of movement on the far side of the roof. She shifted, trying to see beyond the protruding pipework that snaked across the ground.
"There's somebody up here," she said, shifting into a defensive stance.
Negan swung to the side, his head tilted at a lazy angle as he searched the area. "Hmm. You leave this to me, doll. I'm gonna show you exactly what kind of service I can provide. Now, don't you go leaving. I'd really hate to have to hunt you the fuck down. Especially, now that we are on the cusp of becoming such good friends."
Catherine rolled her eyes and looked pointedly away from him. His mercurial moods unsettled her and she couldn't quite work out how to react. Narrowing her eyes, she watched him stroll away, casually ducking down and around the thick pipes until he reached the other side of the roof and out of her sight. The instant he was gone, she spun around and looked down at the shuffling walkers. There were too many for her to fight off on her own. She glanced at the next neighbouring building. The roof was higher and the gap too far to jump across. There would be no escaping Negan.
As if she'd spoken his name aloud, he appeared. He was dragging someone behind him. "Look what I found! A trespasser on my land. That makes two in one day and I gotta tell you both, that shit just ain't gonna fly. Nope. I cannot allow that kind of disrespect to slide."
"Who is he?" Catherine asked.
Negan flashed her a grin. "It don't matter. But I'm gonna use him to show you just how serious I am." He pulled the struggling man to the edge of the roof and looked Catherine in the eye. "Cause I see the way you're looking at me, doll. And I really don't think you appreciate how fuckin' close you are to dying." He tapped Lucille against the man's torso. "This guy though? He gets it."
Catherine glanced down at the whimpering man. Blood oozed from a cut on the side of his head and he looked to be on the verge of unconsciousness. She was about to open her mouth to speak when Negan threw him off the side of the building. A dull thud sounded a second later. Catherine blinked, surprise freezing her in place.
"Hell!" Negan leant forward to look down at the alley. "Did you see that motherfucker fly? Jesus. That's some nasty shit down there. He's all over the fucking floor." He shook his head and glanced back at her. "I'd hate to see that happen to you, darlin'. I really would. Now, are you gonna tell me you're name, pretty girl?"
"Catherine," she replied, seeing little point in withholding such a small detail.
Negan smiled. "Catherine. I like that. Can I call you Cathy?"
"Not if you want me to answer."
"Just can't help yourself, can you? Well, Catherine, you're in my place now and my place has rules. And do you know what the number one rule is?" He gave a half-smile as he waited for her answer.
She crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "I'm sure you're about to tell me."
"Respect, Catherine. And I can see that you're still struggling with it. But that's okay." He winked. "We're gonna fix that real soon. Fuck. I'm looking forward to it."
Catherine felt the world shift beneath her feet. She had the most awful feeling that her life would never be the same again.
Okay, guys. Thoughts? Love it? Hate it? Should I continue Posting?