A/N

So sorry for the long delay in posting, work and life in general has been totally crazy for the last couple of months. This chapter was originally meant to be part of the next one but I decided to split it just to get something posted.

Enjoy and please let me know what you think.

Chapter 10

As Amanda's lifeless body hit the ground in front of him, her unseeing eyes wide and staring, Daryl somehow managed to find his last reserve of strength. With an agonised howl he lurched to his feet and threw himself at Negan, slamming shoulder first into the gloating man's chest. Caught off guard by the unexpected attack Negan stumbled back, landing on his butt with a furious grunt.

Hand still bound behind him Daryl kicked out wildly, managing to land a couple of hits to Negan's side before he was roughly yanked back by several Saviours. A silence had fallen over the yard and several men and women were trying to discreetly move away, not wanting to be in range when Negan's fury erupted.

Daryl fought hard against the hands trying to force him back to his knees, no longer thinking straight as he twisted and kicked, only wanting to get back to the man in front of him.

A blinding pain shot through him as Dwight gripped his dislocated shoulder and wrenched it back violently and the men holding him took advantage of the distraction, finally forcing him down and holding him in place.

Daryl felt the men beside him drop to their knees as a shadow fell over them, the hand pressed on his uninjured shoulder trembling slightly as Negan towered above them. The Saviours lowered their eyes but Daryl kept his head held high, his gaze a meeting furious dark expression.

"So…" Negan drawled softly "You thought it would be a good idea to attack me, to knock me down and humiliate me in front of my men did you?"

"Would've done a whole lot more if my hands were loose" Daryl snarled as he tried to twist free from the restraining grip holding him down.

Negan sighed "Still fighting I see" He walked over to Amanda's body, nudging it gently with his foot.

"You know, I actually liked her. Not many here had the balls to argue with me, but she did. That's why I gave her the courtesy of a quick death" He squatted at her side, reaching out and closing her eyes gently before standing again.

"She got worse when you got here. For some reason she objected to my treatment of your sorry ass, got a whole lot more vocal about things, started disobeying direct orders about handing out meds and food. Got to the point I couldn't let it slide anymore and had to do something about it"

He glanced at Daryl, a smirk on his face.

"I guess if you hadn't been such a pathetic, weak pussy about a few minor injuries, if you'd just followed a few simple rules she wouldn't be dead now. I guess we all know that once again someone died because of you. How many more people are you going to get killed before you learn?" His grin widened as Daryl visibly flinched at his words and dropped his eyes, pleased to see they'd had exactly the effect he wanted on his prisoner.

He turned and glanced at Dr Carson, standing wide eyed and terrified behind him, before facing Daryl again.

"You best hope that pretty, pregnant widow doesn't need any more medical help, better keep your fingers crossed that no one at Alexandria or Hilltop gets sick or has an accident being as we now have the only Doctor for miles"

Negan smiled again,

"Be a shame if anything was to happen to that baby now, after she just lost her husband. Wonder what your friends would think if they knew it was because of you they don't have a doctor any more"

Daryl shook his head.

"No, it aint on me" he muttered as he met Negan's eye again "I aint the sorry son of a bitch that killed her, I aint the one that took the Doc there. That's all down to you, you sick prick!"

The smile slipped from Negan's face and he lunged forward, grabbing Daryl by the shirt and hurling him to his feet. His left leg, injured in the motorcycle crash, buckled beneath him and his dislocated shoulder screamed in protest at the abrupt movement. Negan dragged him to the bench Mark had been pinned down on and slammed him violently against it.

"Get your lazy asses over here and hold him down" he demanded at the nearest men.

They hurried to obey and Daryl found himself on his back, pinned to the benchtop as he twisted and fought to get free. The hunter couldn't help the yell of agony as his bound hands were freed then wrenched above his head and held down, his shoulder once again a blur of pain.

Negan paced the length of the bench, taking in every injury, every mark on the restrained man still desperately fighting against those holding him down.

Finally he stopped pacing and stood at the end of the bench by Daryl's feet, making sure he stayed just out of range of the flailing boots.

"You know…" he started thoughtfully "in other circumstances you're exactly the sort of man I'd want on my side. However you've made it very clear you're not a team player. You've fought me continuously, forced me to kill someone I almost considered a friend, been responsible for the death of a mother and her young child and killed one of my loyal followers. None of this can go unpunished" Negan moved forward until he was standing near Daryl's head, reaching down and brushing the long, matted hair from his cheek in a sinisterly tender movement.

"Take his boots, he's not going to need them again" he ordered "then hold his legs down, I don't want him thrashing around while he pays for what he's done"

Daryl felt the boots ripped from his feet and hands gripping his ankles, holding him down and unable to move. From the corner of his eye he saw Negan reach into the fire for the still hot iron, gripping it firmly in his hand as he brought it closer and closer to Daryl's face. He tried to flinch away but his head was held in a vice like grip and he had nowhere to go. He tried to breathe deep as he braced himself for the pain, tried to ready himself enough he would be able to withhold the screams as the flesh was melted from his face. He could see the gleam of pleasure in Negan's eye as he bought the iron towards his exposed cheek, could feel the heat from the metal as it inched nearer. Suddenly with a laugh Negan pulled away.

"Got you!" he chortled "You damn near pissed yourself then, didn't you?" He grinned.

"Don't worry, the iron to the face is for those who rape, or those who touch what's mine" Negan glanced at the door Amber had gone through earlier.

"And talking of touching what's mine, I got a hot little number waiting in my bed so I need to finish this"

Still clutching the iron Negan moved to the end of the bench once more. With his free hand he poked the tattered pants, dragging his fingers through the exposed skin of Daryl's calf, clawing at the damage caused by his sliding along the road after his second crash of the day.

"That looks painful" he commented, pretending not to notice the sharp intake of breath from his captive as he continued to torment him.

"We don't want to risk it getting infected" he grinned as without warning he slammed the iron against Daryl's leg.

"We should cauterise it"

The pain was unbearable as the already damaged skin began to blister and Daryl could smell his own skin burning as Negan slammed the iron down for a second time.

"Maybe now you'll think twice before you try kicking out at me again" he smirked as he held it in place for several seconds, allowing for the maximum damage.

Daryl bit down on the inside of his cheek as he tried to hold back on the whimper that threatened to escape. When Negan pushed the cooling iron against his leg for the third time he could fight it no more. An agonised cry ripped from him and he saw Negan smile in satisfaction.

"Finally" he commented as he let the iron drop to the ground. "If you'd done that at the start you'd have saved yourself so much trouble"

As Negan strode away, he glanced over his shoulder at the cowering Dr Carson.

"Patch him up as best you can and reset his shoulder, don't waste any medication on the bastard, he don't deserve it" he ordered.

The hands restraining him fell away, the men stepping back to give Harlan space to work.

The Hilltop Doctor tried to do what he had to as carefully as he could but without medication and painkillers it wasn't long before the pain got too much and Daryl found himself unable to fight it anymore and slipped into welcome unconsciousness.

When he woke again he was laying on the floor in a small, dark room. His throbbing shoulder was reset and his arm held against his chest with a strap made from someone's shirtsleeve. The burns on his leg were covered with a makeshift bandage and pulsed with pain. His head pounded and his whole body ached. His lips were cracked and dry and his eyes swollen and half closed from the various blows he'd received. He tried to sit up but his battered body refused to co-operate and he slumped back down. The only light in the small room came from a frosted glass panel in the door but as he lay on the cold floor he began to make out the shape of shelving units around him and guessed he was in some kind of storage closet. Carefully he tried again to sit, this time managing to pull himself up into an uncomfortable leaning position against one of the shelves. With his unstrapped hand he reached up pulling a box from the nearest shelf, hoping to find something, anything, he could use as a weapon. He lost his grip on the awkward box and it split open spilling its contents. He hadn't been expecting guns and knives but the erasers and pencil sharpeners scattered around him caused him to groan in disappointment as he realised he was basically locked in the stationary storeroom.

A wave of despair swept over him as he let his head fall back against the wall. He'd blown his chance at escape and now Amanda was dead because of him and Dr Carson was a prisoner of the Saviours as a result. He thought of Maggie and how sick she'd looked when he last saw her, just before she saw her beloved husband's head bashed in. He could only hope that the Doctor had been able to treat her before he was taken and that both her and her unborn child were well. He couldn't even bring himself to think of the alternative.

Thoughts of his friends at Alexandria filled his head and he wondered how they were coping with Negan's demands. Thing's had been hard before, food had already been short and now they were being forced to give half of everything to the Saviours. Daryl cursed himself for his stupidity in making the deal with Hilltop, taking out Negan and his men in exchange for a bit of food and a damn cow. How could he have been so dumb, all of this was his fault, he made the original deal with that Jesus asshole, it was because he let Dwight live that Denise was killed, it was because of him Glenn, Michonne and Rosita were captured.

He couldn't stop the thoughts spiralling around his mind as he sat in the darkness before somehow falling into a restless, uncomfortable sleep. The sound of the door opening jolted him awake and he flinched back as the dark figure approached. As the slight figure got closer he realised it was Emma, the young woman from the canteen that had tried to help him. She crouched in front of him keeping her head lowered as she placed a container of water and three cans next to him.

"Negan says make it last as it's all you're getting" she said softly as she reached out and offered him a chunk of hard, stale bread. As Daryl took it from her he noticed the thick bandage wrapped around her hand.

"What happened?" he asked as he caught hold of her wrist. Emma tried to pull away, still keeping her head down, her face hidden by her long hair.

"It's nothing" she tried again to pull free but his grip involuntarily tightened, causing her to give a small gasp of pain.

"He hurt you 'cause you helped me didn't he?" Daryl asked her quietly, aware of the heavily armed man in the doorway watching the exchange. She nodded briefly.

"He said it was to teach me not to steal, that's how he saw giving you the pain tablet in the water. He used wire cutters to cut my little finger off, that's his usual punishment for stealing" She finally raised her head and even in the semi darkness of the little room the bruises on her face stood out. One eye was black, her lip split and her right cheek bruised and cut.

"The beating was to knock any idea of helping any other prisoners out. It's my fault, I knew what he was capable of and I still defied him. I got what I deserved" Her voice was defeated and broken and Daryl felt the familiar feeling of guilt sweep over him, another innocent had suffered because of him.

"I'll get out of here and I'll kill that bastard before I go" he promised as he let go of her wrist and Emma backed towards the door.

"Stop fighting him" she told him "It's for the best, no one ever gets away. You know what happens to those that try. Please, just stop fighting and accept you're stuck here"

Daryl shook his head.

"I can't" he lowered his gaze from her "Can't let that prick break me"

Emma stopped in the doorway, giving him a long sad look.

"Then you're going to die" she said softly as the armed man stepped forward and the door was slammed and locked, leaving him alone in the dark.

Thanks for reading.