After a while of merely laying still and quiet, Negan gently slid out of me and grabbed a towel. He wiped our sweat off of my body. He came back to my chest and smacked one of my boobs. "Damn. No titty bouncing during any of that. I'm just gonna have to give them some extra attention."
"Oh… I think they got plenty of attention earlier," I said.
"No they didn't.," Negan replied in a voice as if he were talking to a baby. He was speaking directly to my boobs and squeezed them. "Look at my perfect titties. They want me to hold them and kiss them and—what's that? They want me to titty-fuck them! I can't wait! No I can't!"
"Oh my God. Negan, I've already thrown up twice today, I don't need a third time." I laughed.
Suddenly he was serious. "You didn't tell me that. Are you alright?"
"Earlier, I'd seen too much blood and brains, so I threw up," I shrugged.
"You shouldn't have been in the fucking position to see that nor been cleaning up my fucking mess," Negan said flatly. I didn't want to argue. It wasn't his mess—it was mine, but he was back in protector mode, so I just nodded.
"You need to eat" he went on. "We need to get some real fucking food around here. But, right now, you're going to have a ginger ale."
"A ginger ale?" I questioned.
"Yeah. It'll help soothe your stomach. Since my cock has already soothed the rest of your body." Negan smirked.
I laughed at him, but I'd wanted to cry. I'd only questioned him because that's what my parents' solution to stomach aches had always been—fucking ginger ale. Negan dug through the cooler and found the carbonated solution. "Here you go, baby," he said as he handed it to me. "This should make your tummy feel a little better. If I'd known you weren't feeling well, we wouldn't have done that."
"I initiated it, Negan. It's fine. You're fine. We're all fine." He gave me a funny look then went back to rummaging through the cooler.
I opened the ginger ale and took a sip. I closed my eyes and remembered my parents. I thought of the times when I'd been sick as a little girl and they'd given me ginger ale and crackers. I wanted my mom. Wasn't that the reaction everyone seemed to have—I want my Mommy—when they were scared or in pain? I was scared but part of the fear was that I might not see my mom or dad again. Tears were going to start. I had to rein this in. He did not need to see me crying every two seconds.
"Are you still feeling sick?" Negan asked as he sat down right beside me.
"No. You're right, though. I need to eat."
"Well, I don't want you to eat junk if your stomach's fucked up. I've got crackers." It took everything I had to hold the tears back. What was this? Negan, the parent. Negan, the caregiver. I wanted my Mommy and Daddy.
"Okay," I said quickly, eyes still closed. I put the can of ginger ale up to my forehead to cool myself off. I was still a little warm from all the sex and I'm sure my face looked horrible and flushed. He probably thought I was sick. I ate the crackers and drank my ginger ale. We grazed on snack cakes and other foods from the vending machines in silence.
After a bit, Negan laid down with his hands behind his head. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.
"Yes. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for saving me from Jerry and keeping me safe and… just everything you've done. I can't begin to tell you how much it's meant to me."
"Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?"
"Well, I'm not sure what's going to happen in less than two days. I don't know who is coming and what's going to happen."
"Like I said, it's classified, love. You don't need to worry your pretty little head about anything. Negan's got you."
"Love? You use the term like you mean it. If you love someone—or care for them, anyway—you'd tell them all about this military friend and what's going on—you'd share everything with them. You know, all of your intel."
"Fine," Negan said. "Get your ass over here and lay on my chest. If I'm talking, I'm at least going to have a titty to squeeze while doing so." I rolled my eyes but was secretly pleased that he was talking.
It turned out that his imaginary military friend was real. His name was Kevin and he was a Master sergeant in charge of a squad in the U.S. Marine Corps, currently stationed in D.C. MSgt Kevin had told Negan that neighborhoods were being evaluated and either evacuated or being held prisoners in their own homes. The virus had spread and the government didn't have any answers. The only thing they had figured out is that the creatures could be stopped if they were taken out in the head—it didn't matter how, just where. At this point, the government was just trying to contain the living. He said that Kevin had told him that he'd seen some serious shit go down—shit he was not comfortable with participating in anymore. Kevin had told Negan that there was a list of 20 major U.S. cities that were to be bombed by the government first. After the "Terrible 20," came the lesser bombings around the country.
Like Kevin, members of his squad had been disgusted with how they'd seen human life treated and how the military was handling things. They had all decided to leave the shitshow and get back to their families. Apparently, Negan told Kevin he could strike out with him, as Kevin's family was in Florida. His wife had perished, along with one of his daughters. Kevin had no idea where his remaining two daughters were. Kevin had asked Negan if he could bring a few guys from his unit with him, as these men were all too far away to get back to their homes and families. They were pragmatic and realized that traveling to their respective homes alone was a suicide mission. They wanted to stay with their squad and their commander. Negan had considered the possibilities and negotiated with Kevin. They had decided that the best option was to fortify the car dealership and use the military presence as a ruse, so that no one would bother them—us. It was quite smart, actually.
Negan said that Kevin had an idea of when the "Terrible 20" was going to take place, but wasn't sure, and since he was in D.C. (and D.C. being one of the twenty), they were getting the hell out of there before the bombing started. It was a Thursday. They would be here by Saturday, at the latest. Negan told me about all the plans he had outlined with Kevin and talked about the supplies they'd get and how they'd planned to go about it. I listened intently, as Negan was in his zone—he was a commanding presence while he spoke and he had so much information that the public didn't—and that was his weapon. He could ride this out because he had the knowledge of what so many others would never see coming. I began to feel sorry for those in the cities and thought about various friends who lived in some of the "Terrible 20" cities.
Aside from the bombings, this was all news to me. But it now made sense that Negan had shot the monsters through the heads and they'd immediately been stopped. I remembered Negan's entrance into my life, when he was just that loud salesman talking about bombings, but he'd been telling the truth. It was difficult to take in, but it was nice to know that we wouldn't be totally alone. On the other hand, I wondered if these Marines included any women. I asked him.
"Why? Is baby jealous? It looks kinda hot on you," he smiled his wicked smile.
"No, I just didn't know if they would all be men and if I'd have to watch my back—I know I'll have to get more clothes, unless you're planning on developing a nudist colony here."
"Oh, no. Those titties are for my eyes—and hands—and mouth—only," he shook his head and squeezed one possessively. "As far as I'm aware there aren't any Marine chicks coming, but these guys will know from the start not to fuck with me or my property."
"I'm your property?" My voice was shrill as I looked up at him.
"Do you want to be?" He licked his lips.
"I'm not really a feminist, but I think that being your property is just a little degrading, Negan."
"Well, you fucking know what I mean. If any of them fuck with you in any way, or one even looks at you the wrong way, I'll cut off his dick. You will have no worries. There are going to be fucking rules. I've already told Kevin this. We're not just going to be huddled together and scared, waiting for the government to take their dicks out of our asses. We're going to fucking build something."
I continued to listen to his ideas about civilization and crime and punishment; how he thought everyone deserved a second chance unless the crime was too serious. He told me his convictions, how he detested rape and never wanted to have children see the violence that they were so often exposed to. Negan definitely had his own code and the two of us and the Marines were all going to be living by it. As he spoke of philosophy and psychology, I wondered if I could keep to the code. What if I messed up in his eyes? I became tense and he felt it.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "You don't agree with what I think?"
"Well, maybe not every little thing. I'm just afraid that I'll mess up or get in trouble."
"Only if you cheat on me," he winked. But, then again, we aren't married, so I guess that's not really punishable. And, I swore to protect you, and I will always hear you out, so you should be fine. Why the fuck are you suddenly scared of me, like I'm your king or some shit?"
"Well, all of this talk makes it sound like you will be king. I think what you want to accomplish is awesome, but it's also scary to me."
"Why? You'll just be my fucking queen, then. There are rules and consequences set up in every civilized society. I was just trying to explain my point of view to you so you'd know more about me—about what's inside this fucking hot body and gorgeous face. But, if you're sick of talking of listening or whatever, we can do something else." He smiled his wicked Cheshire cat grin and started pinching one of my nipples between his fingers.
Silence. I didn't know what to say. He went on, "Enough of the intel. You've been briefed. Listen. I've felt almost every part of you. I've seen you at your most venerable—and I've seen how brave you are. And I know you're strong. You've given me pleasure by letting me give you pleasure. But, I want to give you more. I want you here with us. We will make all of this fucking happen."
"More?" I wasn't following. Was he asking me to marry him? I was very confused.
"Usually, I just take what I fucking want—and you might see that soon. But, I want you to have it all and I want to be the one to give it to you. We'll talk about all this shit later."
"Will there be a later, Negan? What if they arrive and you're so busy that you don't have a chance to talk or you forget about what you've said to me these last couple of days because there are others around and I'm not the only human to interact with anymore?"
He sighed. "Is it too early to tell you 'I love you'?" he asked.
"Oh my God, Negan." I sighed. "There are different types of love. I'm sure you feel something, but it's probably the newly passionate type of love that eventually fizzles."
"Fuck no. It's the 'I'm in love with you and would marry you now if you said yes' type."
My heart skipped a beat. "You're nuts."
"I told you, the Joker and Harley Quinn," he replied.
"You realize he repeatedly beats her and leaves her many times —not to mention that he tries to kill her multiple times. They have a very fucked-up relationship."
He frowned at that. "Well, I'm just saying that we're both fucking nuts. I guess I'm not the Joker—that's out of the fucking question. I'll never lay a fucking hand on you or make you do anything you don't want. I'll figure out another analogy. But, until then, I love you.
"Don't. Please."
"Why not? You said that it's happened to you. Well, it happened to me to, baby."
"You're in Eros, you need to get to Agape. Then we'll talk," I laughed.
"Huh?" Negan was confused.
I tried to explain, "I learned about this in one of my Masters courses. The Ancient Greeks devised labels for four types of love. Agape and eros are two of the four. Basically, you're at the passionate stuff… hit me up when you reach unconditional and then we'll be good," I laughed.
"I still love you," he pouted.
I reached up and gently pinched his lips shut. I knew he did, but so much, so soon? I just wanted to get through an afternoon without so much intensity—but I had a feeling Negan's new world was going to be just that—intense.