Storm Warning

Hi, I know it's been a while. I won't give excuses, I just suck aahaha SORRY.

There were a couple questions that I got in reviews and messages, but it's a bit long, so I'm going to put them in the author's note at the end of the chapter. I'm so glad people seemed interested and had nice things to say about the first chapter, thank you everyone!

Thank you to laura, Deedee, Cappiesgirl23, Bactrian Camel, FriendsWithTheMonster, Guest, Jasamfromthestart, twxnkle, GawkyTC, JenTen, Shingle, Jean, Charlene Clark, and Rachael557s for reviewing. Thanks to everyone that favourited and followed this story so far.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters associated with the franchise.

Chapter 2: Ice

Bound, blind and bouncing around in the container of a box truck, Sam waited as fear slithered up her like the tide rising, icy and sharp. Tears pricked behind her eyes as the gravity of Sam's situation weighed in. Her teeth chattered.

She was worse than dead at this point.

She wished he had just killed her. It was sick and it was selfish, but Sam felt her impact would have been far greater if she had gone out that way. She could have died a martyr, been a source for more ignition and fire. Caused more people to rise up against the Saviors.

Instead, Negan had promised her that he would 'help her deliver her message'. The wolfish, unfitting grin that accompanied his words were enough to force Sam to acknowledge how well and truly fucked she was.

Sam had kept up the brave face until the burlap sack was thrown over her head, and then the fearless farce that was fueled by adrenaline and anger and had inevitably withered away. She had accepted her fate; Sam was going to die for her cause. Not in the way that she had hoped, quick and in a blaze of glory, but it could still mean something.

She hadn't been entirely unscathed. They had beaten her, the sharp pain when she inhaled reminded her of that fact. Sam took a tally of her body as she tried to settle her increasingly panicked breathing.

Her face throbbed. Sam's bottom lip was split on the inside from hitting her teeth and the metallic taste was making her feel nauseous. Her jaw ached, but Sam couldn't complain. At least it didn't feel broken. The same could not be said about her rib or her right wrist, the latter of which was painfully clamped behind her back. She tried not to move around in the vehicle, the searing pain from doing so making her hiss.

She had fallen and bent her wrist awkwardly when the shitbag had tripped into her and stopped her from putting a bullet into his friend. She had screamed at them, demanded to see Negan, the only name she knew from the previous visits from the Saviors.

You all work for Negan now.

They had laughed in her face and Sam had grit her teeth and sneered when the fat Savior put his gun to her head with a chuckle.

"We're all Negan, baby," stale breath hissed lowly into her face, and Sam felt her lip curl angrily at the patronizing response.

"Hold up," a rough voice stalled the inevitable splatter of her grey matter against the wall. "What's your name?"

Her eyes flicked towards the other man and back to the gun at her temple. "The fuck's it matter what my name is?" she snapped at him.

The gun clashed into the side of Sam's head roughly before the first Savior grabbed her chin and spat into her face, "He asked you a question."

"Sam," she roughly bit out, blood pumping loudly in her ears now.

Anger flashed in his eyes. "Bullshit." Fatty looked over to the side where the other Savior was standing, looking at her contemplatively. "She's a fuckin' liar, George."

George's tongue ran along his bottom lip as he stared hard at Sam. His lips twitched amusedly briefly before he regarded the other man once more. "We're lookin' for a Sam, she says she's it. She stays alive 'til Negan gets here."

Sam jumped and tried to twist her head towards the Savior at the mention of Negan's name. "Take me to see him," she demanded loudly once more. She could still do it, still at least attempt to end this.

End Negan.

"Shut up," he snapped at Sam, jerking her head away from the other guy. The two men argued for a while longer about who she was before fatty conceded to not putting a bullet in her brain. They had evidently gotten her name from a Hilltop civilian, likely as the cause and organizer of the attack. It made sense that they would want her alive to parade around for Negan.

Sam had gotten her wish. She had been face to face with the sociopath himself, felt his breath ghost across her face and the rush of air as he feigned bashing her head in with a baseball bat decorated in barbed wire. Her eyes couldn't unstick themselves from his face, she had zoned in on him like he was her prey.

But now, with her mind no longer clouded by epinephrine, Sam realized that he had been stalking and she had been the prey.

And so, she had been caught. She had severely underestimated the amount of men he had control of. Not thought of the fact that the building that Hilltop knew of wasn't their main base of operations. Crucial mistakes, all facilitated by hate and anger. And for that, Negan would make an example out of her. Her mind bounced around the seemingly limitless and awful possibilities of what awaited her at the other end of the road. Torture, rape, dismemberment. Torn apart by humans or the dead.

Sam's mind wasn't a safe place to be.

At first, she had tried to follow the truck's movements. Tried to make sense of the turns, the bends in the road, track which direction they were headed and how fast they were moving. Not surprisingly, Sam couldn't focus and soon gave up. She heard distant murmurs in the front of the truck of Saviors communicating on Walkie Talkies, but couldn't strain her ears enough to decipher any of it.

Hilltop wouldn't know that they had taken her.

Both too quickly and painstakingly slow, the truck ride ended. As the truck stopped, Sam was sure that her heart had as well.

She ground her teeth together and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, forcing herself to forget her fear and tears and the faces of her dead friends. She didn't have time for that right now. This was her fate, and she had to face it.

The door of the truck clattered loudly to her right as someone shoved it upwards. The inside of the bag lightened from the invasion of the morning sun, and Sam didn't have long to adjust before the burlap sack was pulled off her head.

Fate presented itself as the looming, intimidatingly tall form of Negan. Even standing on the ground whilst Sam was still on her knees in the truck, he seemed to loom over her. Wolfish grin and all, Negan leaned back on one foot and threw his arms out to each side, the bat following the motion.

"Welcome to the Sanctuary, kid," she resisted jumping at his booming, almost theatrically exaggerated voice. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and Sam narrowed her eyes at Negan.

He chuckled, and Sam knew that Negan was mocking her. His hands found his hips. "That's a scary look. Lighten up! Don't want you scarin' the shit out of all my people, do we? What kind of impression will that be?" He waited a moment, watching her with that same wide grin. "Neil, why don't you help our lovely guest out of the truck."

It wasn't a question, and Sam felt the truck rock as the larger Savior jumped in the back, sneering at her before hoisting her up roughly by her arms. He bumped her wrist carelessly, and Sam let out a yelp of pain as she stumbled to her feet.

Negan ignored Sam's discomfort, instead just walked ahead of her after Neil shoved her in front of himself. Sam's gaze stuck to the ground as her legs tried to coordinate themselves, numb from her immobile position in the back of the truck.

"Not the barns you're used to staying in, but you'll get used to it," Negan called over his shoulder as he walked, unconcerned.

She considered snarking back that they were trailers and not barns, but decided to stay silent. Sam finally tore her gaze away from the ground and was momentarily stunned by the monstrosity of a building in front of her. Muted and industrial and cold looking, the Sanctuary was situated in an old factory. Stairs zigzagging up the front of the building on one side, connecting various levels, while the rest of the anterior side was littered with wide, dark windows.

She whipped her head around at the familiar, snarling sound of the dead. Sam's heart dropped at the sight that greeted her. Set of chain link, with a wall of geeks in various states and positions, acting as a defensive perimeter around the building. Sam's feet stalled as she watched a person dart around the dead, leading another before shoving the same dead figure into a set of spikes to anchor it in place. There were so many of them.

Who the fuck were these people?

"What a beautiful fuckin' sight to come back to," Sam hadn't realized that Negan had stopped as well, and her breath hitched as his voice sounded behind her. Sam clenched her jaw as she took a step away and turned so that Negan was in her line of sight. She didn't like him standing behind her. The man looked over the wall of the undead proudly, hand resting on one hip while he balanced the armored bat in the other. It was like he was looking at a sunset or a nice car, not a wall of the undead.

Sam didn't respond, just turned her sights back to the man who was making his way back to the gate in the chain link, another similarly dressed man slamming it shut behind him. They looked like prisoners, Sam realized. Would she be sentenced to that as well?

"Move those midget legs, Sammy, we've got a lotta shit to do. Chop chop," Sam narrowed her steely gaze on Negan's retreating figure, hating the condescending nickname. Neil shoved her forward with the palm of his hand on her shoulder, and Sam was spurred forward.

The inside was just as muted and dull as the outside, and they weaved through hallways and turned corners, all which looked the same to her. They didn't pass by many people, but Sam had seen enough to be able to question why the few they did see immediately kneeled in Negan's presence. Anger prickled her nerve endings as her stomach twisted. He didn't acknowledge them, just sauntered past like Negan hadn't even seen them.

Sam hated Negan.

Her brow furrowed when a woman appeared in front of them. Sam was confused due to a variety of reasons. The young woman didn't kneel, for one. She greeted Negan with what she observed was a forced, polite smile and didn't meet his eyes. Her long, blonde hair helped her hide, pulled forward on either side of her face. The short and revealing black dress and high heels stuck out to Sam like a sore thumb. Clothing like that had no place in the apocalypse, and her eyebrows raised higher when she realized the woman's legs were shaved and she wore makeup.

Who were these people?

"Amber," Negan greeted, and Sam tried to find any trace of warmth or love in his voice. She found none. Was this his girlfriend? Wife?

"Will you be joining us today?" the girl's voice was soft and timid with practiced compliance, and her eyes flickered up to his face briefly before trailing back down. She didn't look at Sam or either of the Saviors that followed behind Negan.

Negan scratched his beard thoughtfully before running a hand over his face. "Busy. Tell the girls maybe later." Sam frowned as she tried to decipher his words.

Negan seemed to feel her gaze on his face and looked over his shoulder at Sam. Dramatically, he let out a large sigh and slapped a hand to his forehead. "What a shitty fuckin' host I am," he exclaimed, and Sam frowned. Was he for real? Her situation seemed like a joke to Negan, and Sam wasn't sure if the man's jovial nature frightened her or pissed her off. "Amber, this is Samantha. Samantha, Amber." He bounced the bat in the air between them carelessly and Sam resisted jumping away. "Amber is one of my wives."

Wives?

Her surprise showed, and she blinked, quickly looking from Amber to Negan, and then back to Amber. Amber watched her in return levelly, with a curious glint, but said nothing. Her eyes roamed around Sam's face, probably looking over the dried blood and bruises on her, and her lips thinned. Instead of a greeting, Amber merely nodded stiffly at her and returned her gaze to anywhere but them.

Negan's eyes roamed over Amber's figure and legs lustrously, before he continued walking down the hall without any parting words for his 'wife'.

She really hated Negan.

Sam didn't ask where they were going. She wasn't sure she wanted to find the answer. The Saviors behind them walked closely, with Neil's hand never hesitating to shove her forward if Sam started to slow. Halfway down the final hallway, Negan stopped and rapped his knuckles against the frame of an open door.

"Dr. Carson," Sam's breath hitched in her throat as Negan named the man in the room, facing away from them. "Have someone I want you to take a look at."

It couldn't be.

Emmett Carson turned around; lined face, greying hair, polo shirt and all. He didn't recognize Sam right away, but she saw the drastic change in his expression when Emmett finally did place where he had seen her face previously.

"Half of everything includes doctors," the Savior spoke down the Gregory, as if he were explaining a simple concept to a child. "You wouldn't be selfish enough not to want our people medically cared for, would you, Gregory?"

Gregory's discomfort with the Saviors demands was severely outweighed by his spineless nature and his desire to survive and please the other group. "No, of course not," he agreed after a moments hesitation.

It made Sam's blood boil.

"You're a human being with a life, not an object to be traded," Sam reminded Emmett Carson angrily as he packed his few clothes into a bag. They were out of ear shot from Gregory and the Saviors, in the trailer that the two doctors shared. "They can't just –"

"Sam," Emmett cut her off, his patience with her wearing thin. "If I had a choice, I'd make it." He looked around the room once more, grabbing a stethoscope off the small table in the centre of the trailer.

"There's always a choice, Emmett," her voice came out as quiet and scared and Sam hated it.

Facing away from her, Sam watched as the older man's shoulders rose and sunk with the deep breath that he took. He turned around, his sad eyes giving Sam her final answer. "Help Harlan in any way you can, Sam. Hilltop needs you." Emmett Carson left the trailer door open as he left, and Sam stared at the spot he once stood.

Her hands clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms.

There was always a choice.

Sam's throat felt dry as she looked at the man that she used to work beside and see every day. They had probably been staring at each other for far too long, because Negan let out a fake, embarrassed laugh.

"Fuck! I forgot that you both were from Hilltop. This is awkward as shit, huh Doc?" Negan leaned to the side and towards Emmett, his hand cupping around his mouth as if he were telling a secret that he didn't want Sam to hear. The laughter dancing in his eyes told Sam that he hadn't forgotten that fact at all.

Sam wasn't sure what to say to him. What could she say, when she was sure she would be dead in a few hours. Negan was probably just parading her through to make sure everyone knew they had lost.

"I wasn't aware that you felt we needed a nurse," Emmett's tone drifted between polite and clipped as he questioned Negan. "I've been managing fine alone." Sam's heart clenched for the older man. He obviously thought that Negan had taken another one of Hilltop's people for their own personal gain, and was trying to say that her presence wasn't necessary.

Sam watched as Negan's eyebrows rose and his tongue wet his bottom lip. "A nurse, hey?" he asked interestedly. She didn't like the sinking feeling that appeared in her stomach at the question.

"And what did your men do to her?" Emmett continued, anger rising in his voice as his eyes raked over the blood caked in her hair and Sam's wrists still bound behind her back.

Negan let out a loud bark of laughter. "My men defended themselves against a fucking ambush," Sam hated how amused he sounded. She preferred anger.

Emmett Caron's expression changed quickly from anger to confusion, before he turned his gaze to Sam and it morphed into disappointed. Sam couldn't look at him, the guilt preventing her from doing so. He knew she was responsible for death, Sam was just grateful that he didn't know the extent of which.

"What're your injuries?" Sam wanted to cry at the coldness, the disappointment in his voice. "Any head trauma? It's a lot of blood." She could feel him looking over her face and hair once again.

"It's not mine," Sam mumbled, her eyes glued to the wall.

"Fuck," Negan all but shouted. "Been so fuckin' silent this whole time, forgot you knew how to speak." She heard him chuckling to himself under his breath.

Sam really really hated Negan.

"I'll wait outside. Leave the door open," Negan ordered, and Sam could tell there was an underlying threat. It was jarring, how fast the man could change from laughing to serious. Negan whistled as he sauntered out, and Sam hoped that he would trip and fall on the stupid bat he carried around.

"What do I need to look at?" Emmett asked curtly.

Sam wanted to say nothing. He obviously didn't want to see her right now, rightfully angry that she had led some of their people to their deaths. Sam didn't like silence however, and wanted to get this exchange over with as soon as possible.

"My wrist and one of my ribs might be broken," Sam replied dully and resisted tugging at her bound wrists behind her back.

Emmett sighed, and grabbed a knife off the table beside him. "Turn around," he ordered, quickly reaching over and slicing the cable tie binding her wrists when she complied. Sam rolled her wrists around to get the feeling back in them, wincing as she rotated the right one.

Emmett grabbed her wrist carefully, experimentally applying pressure to different points and asking where it hurt. Sam yelped when he pressed down on a spot under her thumb.

Sam was sure than her guilt was increasing with Emmett's every sigh. "It's hard to tell, nothing seems severely damaged. The scaphoid bone is pretty small, so I wouldn't be surprised if there was some kind of fracture. There isn't much we can do, just try to be mindful of it."

He looked over the area of Sam's ribs that she guessed was bruised or broken. It still hurt a lot to inhale, and Emmett informed her that a large bruise was forming. Sam knew it didn't matter either way, she would have to heal her ribs on her own.

If she lived long enough to heal them, that is.

Emmett turned without a word, rifling through a few drawers on his desk before returning with a small white bottle. Pain killers. Sam didn't bother to ask or try to read what the label said. She was familiar with most of the common opioids.

"I trust you know how many and how often to take them," he said with an arch of his brow. Sam nodded quickly and reached for the bottle. Before she could grab it, Emmett held it just out of her reach.

His eyes were on the ground, his brows furrowed. "Is Harlan alive?" he asked quietly. Sam figured that he didn't want to look at her in case her answer was no.

"Yes," she said shortly and quietly. Sam wouldn't have let Harlan come with her, even if he had offered. She knew what he meant for the people at Hilltop.

Emmett nodded once in reply, and then promptly turned away from Sam once he handed the pill bottle to her. She took this as her dismissal, but hesitated. Should she say goodbye? This would surely be the last time she would see the doctor.

Sam's pride didn't let her, however, so she just took a clumsy step back before turning and walking out of the doctor's office. She slid the bottle into her back pocket before any of the Saviors saw that she had it, assuming that they would just take it away from her.

No use giving supplies to a dead girl.

Negan let out a low whistle from his position leant against the hallway wall. "You could cut that tension with a fuckin' knife," he commented conversationally.

She inwardly cringed. He was so deliberately obnoxious and it didn't make sense to her. It was unsettling, having someone beside her that was so ruthless and powerful and also such a juxtaposition. Something in Sam shifted in that moment, and she made a choice. She was going to die anyways, so why should she spend it silent and timid and compliant.

The volume of her voice startled even herself. "Nice place you got here," she commented loudly as she increased her pace to almost walk in stride with Negan as they continued down the halls. "Not typically one to enjoy the smell of old pollution and assembly line production, but it has a certain charm." Her voice shook slightly as she kept up the obnoxiously loud volume.

Negan kept walking, but inclined his head slightly towards her, an amused glint in his eye. He seemed to be forming a response, but Sam cut him off.

"You can almost feel the child labour and slavery that was here, huh?" she prodded.

Negan let out a short, amused laugh. "Cut the shit, I can tell you're doing everything you can not to piss your damn pants."

"Seems like you know a lot about overcompensating," she quipped back even louder, trying to mask the shake in her voice. She stuck out her pinky to the man to add emphasis to what she meant.

"Already thinking about the size of my cock? Aren't you fuckin' eager," Negan commented crudely while he walked, and Sam turned to sneer at him in response.

"Shut the fuck up, we're here," he interrupted what would have likely been a rude response filled with expletives from Sam. "Wait for me out here," he ordered the other men.

It was a plain door, not unlike any of the other ones that they had passed previously. Sam's stomach churned as she concluded that whatever awaited her on the other side would either be some form of torture room or where they slaughtered captives.

Negan leaned in front of her and swung the door open before Sam's panic could set in. Her breath caught in her throat, and she just about choked when she realized it was just a room.

Large and mostly barren, there was an old steel bedframe with a mattress and discolored sheets in a corner. A window on the far wall with a cheap wooden desk and chair set, there wasn't much else in the room. Negan strode past her and into the room, and Sam followed, trying to shake the feeling of shock from her body.

How anticlimactic to die in such a room, plain and dull as it were.

"My men are going to be in the halls, don't be stupid."

"What, no roommate?" she asked him dully as he turned to face her. She wasn't entirely sure what game he was playing, and tried to mask her discomfort with sarcasm. His proximity and the fact they were alone in the room, even with the door open, was disconcerting.

"You're getting more than any other fucking prisoner. Show some goddamn gratitude," his form was intimidating, and Sam recognized the order in his voice.

He waited patiently, and when she didn't respond he took a step forward and into her personal space. Sam refused to back away and hardened her gaze on to Negan's.

"I said," he growled into her face, and Sam could hear the sound of his leather gloves tightening their grip on the bat. "Show some motherfuckin' gratitude."

"Thank you," Sam's voice was calm and stern as she glared up into his face, craning her neck back to be able to look at him properly. He was a tall fucker, that was for sure.

Negan didn't move away, just stared back at her, and Sam could tell he was thinking, contemplating what to do next. How to intimidate her further. Ice filled her veins once more as she took in just how close he was, how she could feel the heat radiating off him, see his chest rise and fall, she could almost count his eyelashes. Too close.

"Are you going to rape me?" Her voice came out as loud, detached and disinterested. As if she weren't talking about herself. She wanted to take his power away from him in any way she could, and if acting aloof and like the assault wouldn't affect her, would do that, then Sam would try. Try not to think about how anything that happened in this room would likely destroy her.

Negan didn't take a step away from her, but he leaned back some so that he wasn't looming over Sam. His face changed and became more severe than it had been when he first appeared in front of her this morning.

"The Saviors aren't rapists – I'm not a goddamned mother fucking rapist," he enunciated harshly into her face. Something in Sam believed him, believed the severity in his face. She didn't think that Negan was an honest, morally sound man, but Sam didn't think he was a rapist. At least not in the traditional sense.

Negan's face changed, and a smirk slid onto his mouth once again. It was interesting, watching the man change emotions. "I have three wives, I get all the pussy I want," he continued, and Sam didn't have time be disgusted before he took a quick step back and out of her personal space.

"My men are going to be in the halls, don't be fuckin' stupid," Negan echoed himself as he retreated out of the room.

"You said that already," Sam grumbled under her breath, and jumped slightly when the door slammed behind him. She listened for a moment, and heard the bolt slide and lock the door from the outside.

The silence that followed ran her through like an icy draft, and Sam found herself, once again, cold.

She hated Negan.

A/N: I bet you can guess the timeline since Negan only has three wives, not four. I know on the wiki it lists two other 'unnamed wives', but I probably won't include them.

So, there's been a few questions both in reviews and privately messaged to me about this story. First one was if this was a slow burn or not. I'm not sure how to answer that, because it depends what you mean by that in terms of the end goal. This isn't a Negan redemption story, he's a prick and I'm not about to spend 100,000 words making him super likeable and lovely. It's complicated and frustrating, but I guess I can say that it wont be 'as slow' paced as Heterochromia Iridum.

Another question was if I'd add teasers at the end of chapters like I do in HI. I don't plan to right now, just because I don't really have this one entirely mapped out and I keep moving chapters around. Maybe in the future though!

Last one messaged to me was if HI and this story would sync up, and if Katty would make an appearance. Good idea and I will keep it as a possibility but I have no plans to do that unless I finish HI first. It'd be hard to avoid spoilers for either story if I have Sam or Katty appear in the other, since they start at different times.

The questions and interest are lovely, thank you all!

-Submechanophobia