A/N Some dark moments ahead, including a mother dealing with the death of her child and Negan being Negan.

Thanks for reading

Chapter 7

Connor let go of Lisa and she ran to Michael, throwing herself to his side and gathering his body into her arms as she tried frantically to stop the blood still gushing from the open wound.

Daryl turned away, unable to watch as she clung to her son, pleading with him not to leave her, when it was clear he was already gone. He felt the tears prick the back of his eyes as he realised that once again someone had died because of him, this time an innocent child.

A rough hand gripped his hair and yanked his head up, twisting it painfully, forcing him to look at the woman and child. He saw the Doctor approach Lisa, her face tight with anger and grief and she knelt beside the grieving mother.

"You caused this, you're going to look at what you did" Negan hissed as he kept a firm grip on Daryl's hair, giving him no chance to look away.

"Lisa, Honey, I'm so sorry" The Doctor wrapped her arms around the wailing woman, holding her close as she tried to prise the woman's grip from the small body. "I'm sorry, sweetie but he's gone and you know what we need to do now"

"No!" Lisa's cry was heartbreaking as the Doctor finally managed to pull her away.

"We have to, you don't want him coming back do you?" The Doctor glared at Negan, daring him to say anything "Let us sort this then I'll help you bury him" Another woman came forward and helped lead Lisa away, taking her inside the main building.

Connor pulled a knife from the sheath at his belt and moved towards the still body but a command from Negan stopped him.

"No, not you"

He gave the order for Daryl to be uncuffed and had him pushed over to the child's corpse.

As several Saviours pointed guns at him Negan shoved a knife into Daryl's hand.

"Your fault he's dead, you should be the one to do it" When Daryl hesitated Negan leaned closer. "You want him to turn so his mother has to see that, haven't you caused her enough grief already?"

Slowly Daryl dropped to his knees at Michael's side. With shaking hands he gently lifted the boy's head, lining the knife up with the base of his skull at the back so his face would be unmarked. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes he pushed the knife in quickly, before pulling it back out. Looking at the bloodied knife in his hand he briefly wondered if he could move fast enough to ram it into Negans throat before the others shot him. Before he could act on the thought the blade was ripped from his hand and he was hurled to his feet.

He was finally allowed to pull the clean shirt on, then had to endure Connor gloating as he painted the familiar A on to his chest and back once again, before he was shoved in front of Negan.

"Take him to the cemetery, get him to dig the grave, seems the least he could do" Negan ordered turning away.

"Oh wait, almost forgot" he said as he turned back, swinging his huge fist into Daryl's face.

"That's for talking without permission back there" The force of the blow knocked Daryl back, the men holding him hardly able to keep him upright from the impact.

"After he's finished digging get some food and water into him, don't want him passing out on us. Then get him to work again"

It took Daryl a long time to dig the small grave, he was exhausted, hurting, hungry and dehydrated. His head was spinning from a combination of Negan's blow and lack of nutrition and sleep. As he dug the guilt ate into him, another death because of him. He failed Sophia, he failed Beth, he failed Glenn and Abraham and by default the rest of his family. The first few days of his captivity, while he'd been chained to the hospital bed, he'd fantasised about them coming to rescue him, now over a week into his imprisonment he knew they weren't coming and he didn't blame them. He was nothing more than a liability that kept messing up and getting people killed. They were better off without him.

Finally he was finished, climbing from the shallow hole. The men watching him finished their cigarettes before pushing him ahead of them into the main building. They shoved him into a large room which he figured must have been the staff canteen back in the days before the turn. There were rows of tables and chairs and several men were lazing around, tucking into heaped plates of meat and vegetables, swigging from bottles of beer or downing large mugs of coffee. The combination of smells made Daryl's stomach rumble and his mouth water.

He was pushed to a large serving counter, three women behind it, bustling around as they kept the huge, heated serving platters stocked with food. He eyed the spread laid out in front of him, his hunger almost making him forget it was all food stolen from other communities, communities like Alexandria.

The men escorting him laughed.

"Aint no point you looking at that" one of them pointed out "That aint for the likes of you" He indicated a large pot at the end of the counter, it's contents an unappealing, congealed mess.

"That's yours" he grinned, grabbing a bowl and ladeling a helping of the unappetizing goop into it before thrusting it into Daryl's hand.

"Go take it to Emma there, so she can mark down what you took" the man shoved a grubby glass of cloudy looking water into his other hand and pushed him towards a thin, tired woman seated at a table, a large open ledger in front of her.

"Then go sit yer ass down with the rest of the pricks, we'll come get you when we're finished our breakfast" The man indicated to the back of the room and Daryl saw several other men in similar garb to his, sitting on the floor, listlessly picking at the contents of their bowls.

He was too hungry to be picky and made his way to the woman.

"Name" she asked barely looking up.

"Daryl Dixon" he told her and she thumbed through the ledger until she found the page with his name at the top.

He saw two lists side by side, the one on the left far longer than the other. Emma glanced at the bowl in his hand before adding a note to the bottom of the longer list.

"What's that?" he asked pointing to the page, forgetting not to talk. She glanced up, taking in his appearance and giving him a sympathetic look before putting her finger to her lips and shushing him.

She pointed to the long list "That's what you owe" she explained "and this" she pointed to the other side of the page " is what you've earned. It's not looking too good at the moment. You owe over a thousand points because of all the medical treatment you received when you arrived"

He glanced around making sure no one was within hearing range before asking.

"How many I earned?"

"22" she told him sadly "it was a few more but you lost some for bad behaviour" She glanced at the food and water in his hand "that's going to cost you 50 points, just to give you an idea"

"I'm sorry you're in this situation" she whispered "You know you can earn points by trading. Have you anything you can offer" he shook his head.

"Aint got nothin'" he muttered "never gonna get out of this place"

Emma leant forward "Some of the women earn extra points by offering themselves. You're a good looking guy, maybe you can make an arrangement with someone" She gave him a coy look "I'd offer but I barely have any points myself. You don't earn many sitting here and Negan won't give me a better job"

He felt his face go hot at her suggestion but was saved from having to reply when she sat back suddenly, waving him away from her table.

"Go quick" Emma hissed suddenly "Before he realises you're talking to me"

Daryl saw Negan strut into the room and at once people slipped from their chairs,dropping to one knee. Quickly, before he was spotted he made his way to the back of the room to sit with the other prisoners. He picked at the cold food in the bowl, not even sure what he was eating. He choked down as much as he could and drained the glass of tepid water, then sat quietly, waiting for his escort to finish their breakfast.

Eventually they sauntered over, one of them still stuffing a large piece of bacon in his mouth as he told Daryl to get his ass moving.

For the rest of that day and the following three days Daryl was worked almost to the point of collapse at the most menial, backbreaking jobs that could be found. Each night he was chained to the staircase again, left outside like a dog after Negan decided he hadn't earned the right to be allowed a space inside. He was relieved that after that first long night, he was allowed enough slack in the rope that he could at least sit, although his hands were cuffed painfully behind him every night. Every day he refused breakfast and lunch, only taking enough water during the day to survive. He took the least amount of food he could each night, determined not to build up any more debt. The injury on his chest was causing him a lot of problems, he was sure it was badly infected and he was finding it harder and harder to keep going as the infection spread. He knew he should tell someone but also knew any medications he was given would just add to his debt.

Four days after Michael's death Daryl was working on reinforcing the fences, hard manual labour with several of the other male hostages. It was a hot day and they were all working in full sun with no shade or water and Daryl was finding it difficult to stay focused. His vision kept fading in and out and he felt light headed and nauseous.

A flash of blonde made him look up and he saw Lisa walking across the compound. Even from a distance he could see her eyes were red and swollen, could see the tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Hey asshole!" a cuff to the back of his head from one of the guards got his attention.

"Keep your eye on the job, not the blonde" the man sneered "like she'd look twice at a piece of shit like you, even before you got her kid killed"

Daryl swallowed back the retort and returned to manhandling a heavy fence post into place, stealing quick glances at Lisa as she continued her way across the compound. As he watched she glanced furtively around her, suddenly picking up her pace as she headed to one of the unoccupied watch platforms. A bad feeling came over Daryl as he looked at chained walkers snarling against the fence just under the platform and then back to the determined look on the woman's face.

Suddenly he realised her intentions and, with a muffled curse, let the post crash to the ground as he set off at a dead run towards her. He heard the yells and knew the guards were after him as he forced himself to pick up speed. Lisa had reached the steps to the platform and was slowly climbing them. She heard the commotion he was causing and turned, her eyes locking with his briefly before she continued to make her way up the steps.

Daryl felt a hand grip his shirt as one of the guards caught up with him and he lashed out blindly, somehow managing to land a punch hard enough to make the man let go. Using what little strength he had left he half ran, half crawled up the steps to the platform. Lisa was on the far side, gazing down at the snarling walkers beneath her.

"Don't" he pleaded, his hand reaching out for her "Don't let that asshole win, this aint the right thing to do"

Lisa gave him a small, tired smile.

"It's the only thing left to do" she said softly.

Everything seemed to slow down as he lunged forward trying to reach her as she threw herself over the fence. He saw her body disappear from view, heard the impact as she landed on the ground the other side. The growls and snarls of the chained walkers grew more frenzied as they surged forward to reach the woman.

Daryl stumbled to the fence, forcing himself to look down. It was only about a ten foot drop and Lisa had survived the fall, landing heavily on her back with one leg twisted awkwardly under her body. As he watched helplessly the first walker reached her. She made no effort to escape, just lay passively as it dropped down and sank it's teeth into her stomach, other walkers began to surround her and he lost sight of her body under the heaving mass. The sound of their frenzied feeding made him turn to the side, dropping to his knees and throwing up what little was in his stomach. He heard shouts and the stomp of boots on the wooden planks behind him and a distant voice telling him he was in so much trouble now.

He tried to rise but it was just too much effort and he slumped back down, He was aware of someone looming over him, demanding he get to his feet, he felt the kick to his side, the backhanded slap to his face but his vision was going and he welcomed the blackness.

When he woke again he found himself back in the infirmary. Once again he was restrained by the straps around his wrists and legs. A drip was attached to his arm and he realised his head felt clear, the wounds on his chest no longer hot and itchy.

There was the scrap of a chair being pushed back and the Doctor was by his side. She reached down and lay her cool hand on his forehead.

"Temperature's down" she commented "I think you're over the worse now"

"Hell happened?" he ground out, biting back the frustration, knowing this medical care was going to cost him.

"You tried to help that poor girl, then passed out" The Doctor told him as she lifted his head and slipped a pillow under it before helping him sip some water. "That was almost two days ago"

"You were dehydrated and malnourished and the injury on your chest was badly infected" she informed him in a clipped voice.

"Why didn't you say anything? You were about a day away from full blown septicemia and then it would be unlikely I'd been able to save you" She narrowed her eyes as he turned his head, unable to look at her.

"That's what you were hoping for isn't it" she asked softly "You were looking for a way out. Is that why you're not eating or drinking enough as well"

"No, aint that" his head snapped round "Didn't want no more treatment added to what I owe, same with food. I'm taking enough to stay alive but no more. I wanna get out of here, back to my family" he hated how weak he sounded, whining like a spoiled child but he couldn't help himself.

"What were you thinking?!" she snapped suddenly "If you'd just co-operate, do what he says and kneel like everyone else none of this would have happened. I don't understand, you've taken everything else he's thrown at you but you won't kneel, the one thing he wants you to do. Why won't you do that simple thing?"

Daryl stared at her silently for a few moments and she thought he wasn't going to reply when suddenly he spoke.

"My Pa was a mean son of a bitch, can't really remember ever seeing him when he wasn't pissed or high, usually both. He got his kicks beating the crap outta me and my brother, Merle" He stopped and the Doctor sat next to him on the bed, her hand on his arm reassuringly.

"Is that where the scars on your back came from?" she asked quietly.

Daryl nodded "Yeah, he liked to use his belt, had some big ugly ass buckle that hurt like a bitch. Sometimes he used a switch he'd make me go cut from a tree outside. If it weren't big enough he'd double the number of times he was planning to use it. He was a cruel bastard and it got worse for me when Merle got sent to juvie"

He swallowed hard and she helped him take a few more sips of water before he continued.

"He used to tell me all the time I was a good for nothing waste of space, said my Ma had whored around and I weren't even his kid, said I should be grateful he was taking care of me. He used to make me kneel in the corner of the room for hours at a go, even made me eat like that, when he remembered to feed me. If I tried to sit on my butt or relax he'd beat the shit outta me. Went on for about two, maybe three years and I swore I'd never kneel for anyone again" He turned away from the Doctor and she heard the pain in his voice.

"I weren't gonna do it for that asshole out there and now that kid and his mamma are dead 'cos of me" She pretended not to notice the catch in his words, swallowing back the lump in her own throat. "They're dead 'cos I was too dumb to do what I should've"

"I get it, I really do" she rose, checking the IV, just for something to do while she composed herself.

"But it's what Negan does, he finds a person's' weakness, the chink in their armour, and he plays on it. He used your aversion to physical contact and the fact that you seem to blame yourself for everything bad that happens to others, even when it's something you have no control over. You can't let him get to you, you have to think about surviving. If kneeling is what you have to do to get through this then do it. Surely it's worth it to get back to your people in one piece"

"Not sure if they want me back, don't do nothing but cause them trouble" he mumbled.

"They're desperate to get you back" she told him, surprised he thought otherwise. "I overheard Negan tell Connor that Rick had offered a higher percentage of supplies if you were returned. He found it funny that they were pleading to see you, that they wanted reassurances you were still alive and unharmed" She sighed "The man's an ego maniac and you can't believe half of what he says. He gets his kicks messing with people's heads. What almost happened to you in the bathroom that day, that was a set up to scare you. It was never going to happen. If they had carried on he would have killed them. He says he won't stand for sexual assault of any kind and then forces those poor women to be his wives"

Daryl glanced at her.

"What wives?" he asked just as the door was thrown open.

"Well lookie here, it seems Sleeping Beauty has finally woken up" Negan boomed as he strode into the room with Connor, two other men carrying boxes behind them.

"What do you want Negan?" The Doctor had dropped to one knee but her question was laced with disrespect.

The smile slipped from Negan's face.

"You really are pushing me Doctor" he told her coldly "One day you'll go too far and then you'll regret it" He leaned over her small figure.

"Best you take care, my dear Amanda, you're already on borrowed time. "The fact you're the only one here with any medical experience is about the only thing keeping you safe at the moment"

Negan sauntered over to the bed, smiling down at Daryl.

"And how are we feeling today?" he asked "A lot better I hope" He reached down and ripped the IV needle from Daryl's arm

"You don't need that now, we're going to get some real food into you" At his nod the men began to unload the boxes onto the nearest counter.

"When I was a boy and got sick my Grandmother always insisted on chicken soup as the cure for anything. And it always seemed to work. Luckily for you it just so happens we had some chicken soup in stores" Negan paused as one of the men dramatically held up a can of soup, presenting it to Daryl like fine wine in a restaurant before emptying the contents into a pan placed on a portable stove.

"Don't want yer damn soup" Daryl snarled.

"I didn't say you had a choice in the matter" Negan informed him. "I looked at the points ledger and saw just how little you've been taking, barely enough to survive on. I can't have you keep swooning on me like an anorexic teenager"

From the corner of his eye Daryl saw Connor pulling on a pair of thick leather gloves, the grin on his face disturbing.

Suddenly the pillow was wrenched from under his head and a strong arm was wrapped across his throat, pinning him to the mattress. Another arm was shoved against the side of his face, the two arms clamping his head in a tight grip, making it near impossible for him to move.

Connor's grin grew wider as he approached, flexing his leather clad fingers ominously. He gripped Daryl's lower jaw painfully, digging into the soft flesh under his chin as he forced his mouth open. At once he pushed two fingers into Daryl's mouth. Instinctively Daryl tried to bite down but the thick gloves prevented him from doing any damage and Connor managed to force his mouth open further.

Daryl saw a blur of movement and the Doctor he now knew was called Amanda, was there, shouting at Negan as she tried to pull Connor from him. He saw Negan raise his hand and lash out, knocking the small woman back. Negan struck her again and she went down. He didn't see her get up again.

"Mark! You ready yet?" Negan demanded at the man heating the soup.

"Just about done" the young, dark haired man handed Negan a jugful of steaming soup before collecting a couple of items from the counter behind him.

As he approached Daryl saw he was holding a length of rubber tubing and a plastic funnel. At once he began to thrash, desperately trying to loosen the grip on his head and pull free from Connor's painful hold on his jaw.

"Gonna have to hold him still for this" Mark commented "Don't want to rupture anything with the tube. It could kill him"

Negan shot him an impatient look.

"Do what the hell you need, just get on with it. I got better things to be doing with my time, things like a certain pretty little redhead named Amber" Negan grinned as he saw Mark try and fail to hold back the flinch at the mention of the woman's name.

Daryl twisted and fought as much as he could but the combination of the restraints and the grip on his head limited him to nothing more than a pathetic wriggle, managing to lift his back from the bed by a few inches and no more.

With a sigh Mark climbed onto the bed and swung a leg over Daryl's chest, settling himself and using his body weight to still even that small amount of rebellion. Connor used his fingers to force Daryl's mouth even wider and Mark inserted the rubber tube. Carefully he began to slid the tube down the hunter's throat.

As Daryl began to choke and gag at the intrusion Mark leant forward.

"Just relax" he whispered "It'll be easier if you stop fighting it"

"That's what I tell my wives!" Negan suddenly boomed, with a roar of laughter "just lay back and take it like the bitch you are" He glanced down at Daryl, chuckling at his helplessness, taunting him for the tears rolling down his cheeks as he fought to draw a breath, choking on both the tube and his own saliva.

Finally the assault stopped, Mark deciding the tube had gone far enough, and he reached for the funnel. As soon as it was inserted into the tube Negan began to pour the soup, the burning liquid spilling over the sides of the funnel, splashing onto Daryl's face, running down his chin and cheeks. As it slipped down the tube towards his stomach the rubber heated up and Daryl could feel it burning his insides. The agony was unlike anything he'd ever experienced and he couldn't help the whimpers that escaped as Negan continued to pour until the entire jug was empty. The tube was roughly ripped out and Connor pulled his fingers free, wiping the spilled soup and saliva from the gloves onto Daryl's shirt to clean them off.

The grip on his head was released and Daryl fought to take in air through his damaged throat, turning his head to the side as the urge to throw up became almost too much. His body shuddered as burning bile filled the back of his mouth.

"You puke it up, we'll do it again" Negan warned him.

Daryl forced himself to hold back the nausea, his throat raw from both the tube and the burning soup. He felt the restraints being removed from his wrists and legs and as soon as he was free he rolled onto his side, curling in on himself in a fetal position. Every gasping breath was agony, the air itself feeling like it was tearing him apart internally. Hacking coughs he couldn't stop wracked through his body, causing him to moan in pain.

Dimly he was aware of Amanda slowing stirring and climbing to her feet, her hand moving to her face, gingerly touching the bruise already forming on her cheek. He saw her look at him, saw the pity on her face turn to anger as she faced Negan. He wanted to tell her to stay quiet, that he wasn't worth her risking herself for again but he couldn't get the words out.

The brief exchange was heated, his addled mind unable to take in most of what was said but suddenly Negan was looming over him again, grabbing at him and forcing him to look up.

"I'm going to let you have a few minutes then I expect to see you back working on the fences. From now on you'll eat and drink what you' re given, when you're given it or this will be repeated until you learn"

His leaned down, his face inches from Daryl's.

"And you will kneel for me because if you don't things will get even worse. All this is nothing compared to what I can, and will, do to you if you continue to defy me" He patted Daryl's cheek gently.

"Do you understand?" When he was meet with silence he grinned.

"Good boy" he said patronisingly "You're learning your place. You have permission to talk this time. Do you understand?"

Feeling more helpless than he ever had in his life Daryl lowered his eyes, hating himself for his weakness as he mumbled an unintelligible reply.

Negan cupped a hand behind his ear.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Say it louder" he ordered.

"I understand" Daryl ground out, the effort of speaking almost too much to bare.

With a satisfied nod Negan straightened, turning to Mark.

"Stay here with him, make sure she don't give him any meds" he glanced at Amanda as she stood to one side "We don't need to waste any more on the likes of him"

"I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of hours" Negan gave Mark a wink "if you know what I mean. I don't expect to be disturbed. Get our friend here back out there as soon as possible. I want him earning his keep, no one gets a free ride"

With Connor and the other man close behind him Negan strode from the room.

The second the door was closed Mark kicked out, sending a chair skittering across the room.

"Bastard!" he snarled as he hurled the now empty jug against the wall.

"Mark!" Amanda's voice was harsh " I can only guess what you're going through right now but this won't help you or Amber" She caught his arm and pulled him into a hug and Daryl was startled to see tears in the Saviours eyes.

"It's the way he gloats, rubs it in, makes sure I know exactly what he's doing to her" he scrubbed at his eyes "You know he'll make sit and drink a beer with him after, while he tells me all about what he did to the woman I love, what he made her do to him" a sob shook his body before he could stop it.

"I'm going to get her away from him, even if it kills me" he vowed as he gently pushed Amanda away, reaching his hand out to check her injured face.

"You should get some ice on that" he told her meaningfully, glancing at Daryl.

"I should" she agreed "and a glass of milk from that cow they bought in from Hilltop would help as well. Tell Emma to take it from my points, I've got plenty"

As Mark slipped from the room Amanda approached Daryl, puzzled when he pulled away from her.

"Don't" he mumbled "Best you don't touch me, don't want you getting hurt again for helping me"

"That's my decision, not yours" she scolded as she wetted a cloth and gently began to clean his face. "You heard him, I'm the only medic here, he can't afford to get rid of me. I'm safe"

Daryl shook his head, regretting it instantly as the pain shot through him.

"Aint no one safe from someone like him, guy's an asshole" He tried again to push her away but she continued to ignore him.

Mark returned with a bowl of ice cubes in one hand and a large tumbler of milk in the other.

"Told Emma what it was for and she didn't mark down the ice, said she wanted to help" He explained as he set the items down next to the bed.

Amanda nodded "She's a good woman" she commented as she set down the cloth.

"We need to sit you up now" she told Daryl. He was too tired to fight and reluctantly allowed himself to be assisted into a sitting position, his back against the wall. His chest felt tight, the soup sitting heavy in his stomach, the need to throw up not far away as Amanda held out the bowl of ice.

"Suck on these" she ordered "the cold will numb the pain a little and help bring down any swelling from the burns. Then I want you to drink the milk, it will coat your throat and help sooth it. I should give you antibiotics but we don't have many and he'll notice if any are missing. Hopefully the ones I gave you for your infection will be enough to help"

Reluctantly he did as she said, relieved to find the ice did actually ease things a little. He sipped the milk slowly, he'd never been a fan of the stuff but trusted Amanda when she told him it would help. As he rested back against the wall Mark approached him cautiously.

"I had no choice, I had to do that" he said quietly "He's got my girlfriend Amber and I'm not risking her for you" He paused "I'm not like him though - I just wanted you to know that, but I will do what it takes to keep her safe"

Daryl studied him for a second before nodding,

"I get that" he replied "You do what you have to to keep your people safe. Don't mean you gotta like it"

He put the empty milk glass down and swung his legs from the bed, slowly and unsteadily getting to his feet, ignoring the protests from Mark and Amanda.

"No one else is getting hurt 'cos of me" he snapped, glaring at Mark.

"Aint you meant to be getting me back to work?"

With a shrug Mark followed Daryl to the door, catching hold of his arm so it looked like he was escorting him.

They made their way down several corridors and into the yard, where Mark handed Daryl back to the guards watching the prisoners repairing the fences and he was put back to work, once more under the hot sun.