Chapter 7

The men stopped after leading Daryl down a few halls. From what Daryl could gather, this place of Negan's looked like at one time it had been some kind of apartment building or nursing home for rich people like he'd read they had in Atlanta. Old people with money living in a place with a cafeteria, barber shop, nurse and doctors on call but still had their own apartments. The room he entered looked like it might have been some sort of therapy room-there were a couple of whirlpools, he could see an indoor pool through another doorway, some weight machines and treadmills. There was also a couple of old fashioned claw foot tubs fixed up like he'd seen in old Western movies-where the cowboys would come off the trail and wash up and get shaved.

The men nodded at a woman sitting in a corner and as she approached Daryl realized she was the woman he had met in the woods with Dwight. The bitch who had stolen his bow and bike with Dwight. As he realized who she was, she realized who he was and stopped in her tracks.

"What the hell?" she spat out.

The men with Daryl shrugged. "Negan said clean him up and get him dressed in decent clothes," grumbled the bigger of the two.

The woman shook her head. "Not him," she snapped.

Daryl huffed in disgust. "Fuck, yer the one stole from me ya bitch," he snarled.

The larger men let out a chuckle. "Well, Honey, looks like you two don't need no introduction. Best get on with it, and don't try slitting his throat or anything stupid. We'll be right here keeping an eye on you," he snapped.

Daryl felt himself tense up more than he already was. Bad enough this bitch was supposed to clean him up, now these two assholes were going to watch? He shook his head and started stepping back when the other man jabbed him in the back. "Not so fast. Negan wants ya cleaned up-yer gonna get cleaned up. Ya don't wanna cross him any more than ya already have. Trust me, we ain't interested in watchin' ya-we're just gonna keep an eye on her so she don't slit yer throat. We don't really care if she does-but I don't want the man pissed at me for lettin' her." He pushed Daryl forward and pointed at the woman. "Get busy and get to it," he grumbled.

Daryl stood there uncertain of what to do next. He had not been naked –fully naked-in front of anyone, man or woman, since he'd been very young. The rare fucking he'd done had been in the backs of bars or back of cars and that didn't require but the removal of the bare minimum of clothing. Two years on the road with his group and he'd managed to keep what little modesty he had intact-the others in his group had long been used to changing and washing up in front of each other. Not to mention Maggie and Glen often going at it like rabbits. His reluctance to reveal his scarred and battered body had been one main reason he'd remained so filthy most of their journey.

As he stood there trying not to panic, the woman huffed out a breath and turned to one of the tubs. Bending over she turned the water on to run and motioned Daryl over. "C'mon, shuck those filthy clothes off and get in," she snapped. Daryl hesitated and the woman frowned. "What the fuck? It's just a bath-altho you do look like you avoid bathing on any kind of regular basis. Yer just about as filthy as last time I saw ya," she grumbled.

Daryl shook his head. "Don't need no help, can do it myself," he gritted out. He could feel himself flushing and his heart speeding up with the anxiety of the whole situation.

The woman threw her hands up in disgust. "I'm not doing this cuz I want to. I've got my orders, just like you. So quit fucking around, strip off your clothes and get in the damn tub," she snapped, her voice rising.

Daryl shook his head again and the woman started over toward him angrily. As she reached to grab his wounded arm, the door flung open. She dropped her arm and Daryl turned to see who the hell else had come in here.

Claire stood frowning at the scene. "What in the hell is going on here?" she yelled. Daryl's eyes widened at this. "This man has a gunshot wound you idiot. He doesn't need you grabbing and yanking him around," she continued more quietly. She crossed the room toward Daryl and the woman and glared at the woman.

To Daryl's surprise the woman backed off and blushed with anger. "Just following orders," she mumbled.

Claire snorted in derision. "When have you ever?" she snapped again. The woman clenched her fists and glared back at Claire. "Go on and get out of here. This man is my patient and I'll make sure he gets cleaned up. I wouldn't trust you to clean a kitten, you idiot," and Claire waived at the two men to get the woman and themselves out of the room.

Daryl felt his legs get wobbly and wondered if he'd pass out again just to add to the humiliation he already felt.