NEGAN

The truck rumbled and roared down the road, ignoring Roamers and animals alike. The further out they traveled, the worse the conditions of the roads. The truck bounced over a particularly nasty pothole, making the men inside jostle and rebound from their seats. Negan leaned forward at glared at Josh.

"Do you fucking mind watching where the fuck you're driving, assfuck?"

"S-s-sorry, sir. I didn't see..."

"How the fuck could you not see that fucking pothole? It's the fucking size of fucking Texas. Ignorant fuck."

Josh pushed his taped glasses up his nose with a shaky finger and Negan rolled his eyes, sitting back against his seat. These fucking people. And it was his fucking responsibility to keep them all alive. He should just let them all get themselves fucking killed and be done with it. Bunch of useless fucking fuckbags.

"Smoke, boss?" Gus said offering him the pack. Negan cut his glare over to the older man, whose white hair stuck out on all sides, like tufts of cotton.

"No, I don't want a fucking smoke, that shit will fucking kill you. Goddamnit you fucks, am I the only one with some goddamn fucking sense left in this fucking fucked up fucking world?"

"Probably, boss," Gus said, unaffected by Negan's rant. He put the cigarette between his lips and searched his pockets for a lighter.

"Yeah, no fucking dice, asswipe," Negan said and yanked it out of Gus' mouth. "Look, fuck, if you want to kill yourself, fucking do it when I don't have to fucking smell the fucking results."

He tossed the cigarette back at Gus and it landed in the mans lap. As usual Gus was not perturbed. He only shrugged and said "Okay, boss."

The urge to roll his eyes was strong. One day he was going to roll his eyes and they were going to get stuck. At least that's what his fucking mother always used to tell him. And with the amount of fucking times he rolled his eyes lately, there was probably some fucking truth to it.

He looked out the window, staring into the high, wild and familiar grasses of Virginia. Roamers peppered the landscape, here and there. Always a fixture in this new strange fucking world. Three years in and he still couldn't believe the fucking dead walked. Nor could he believe he was fucking in charge of so many people. So many fucking stupid people. Negan sometimes felt he was in the middle of some kind of fucked up reality show. He still looked around for the fucking cameras.

They jostled over several more bumps, the cargo in the back, shifting and clanking. Negan looked over his shoulder, instinctively, but he only saw the back of the seat. He glared at Josh again, that fucking boy had better pray none of the cargo was damaged or there would be fucking hell to pay.

They'd cleaned up a decent lot, along with the shit Nayna had brought to them last week. At least he wouldn't have to fucking think about feeding and clothing those fuckers for a while. All the fucking whining and moaning. Oh, Molly has a cough. Timmy fell down the fucking well, again! He hated them all. Hated anyone who couldn't, or wouldn't help themselves. Probably why he fucking hated Rick the Prick and why he liked Nayna so much.

Negan almost couldn't remember the last time he'd genuinely liked someone. Nayna was the first person he looked at with near respect in a fucking long time. She took initiative, whereas everyone else he'd met either waited for someone else to step up or they fucking fucked up. He fucking admired her for facing her shit straight on. And it was immensely fun to poke at her and watch the rippling effects. Not only did she squirm, Rick did too. But Rick bowed to the wind, whereas Nayna stood proudly and snapped back. All he fucking had to do was look at her to make Rick angry. Dumbfuckingshit.

He hadn't lied when he told Nayna that had he been in Rick's position he'd have rather died. But then again, Rick didn't fucking have any gumption. Fucking hysterical to watch Rick's ugly face twist and grow red and wet when he touched her.

Underneath it all, Nayna was a sweet, softhearted woman with the toughest fucking exterior he'd ever seen in a woman. It was fucking sexy as hell. Not to mention her biting sarcasm and wit along with her propensity to utter the work fuck. He tried to imagine her in the old days, but she just didn't seem to fit. She was born for these days, just as he was.

Manipulating Rick was easy. Nayna took more finesse. Her bullshit meter was set to super sensitive. But the best cunts were always worth the work.

Negan shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what lay between her thighs. He bet she guarded her cunt ferociously. She was probably super fucking tight. Jesus, fuck. And her fucking body! Her hips were meant to be held onto during rough fucking and her tits were made to swing and bounce as she walked. Fuck, he was getting hard just imagining her fucking sweet face screwed up as he jerked into her. Negan shifted again and sighed in frustration. At least he had his fucking wives he could bury his dick in.

"You alright, boss?" Gus asked.

"Superb," he said sarcastically and leaned forward to glare at Josh. "Can you hurry the fuck up? I want to fuck at least two of my wives tonight and if you don't fucking hurry the fuck up I won't get one, you idiotic dipshit."

Jesus fucking Christ these people! Josh stepped on the gas, sending the three of them sliding back against the seat. And again, Negan was hard pressed not to roll his eyes. Next time someone else was fucking driving. Fucking Dwight would do.

His thoughts turned back to Nayna and her fucking soft, sweet voice. She had that slight twang on her tongue, the missing 'r' in Washington—Warshington-the transformation of t's into d's—water became wader, hotter became hodder, metal became medal. Such a slight accent that the only ones who missed it were the ones who spoke it—like him.

The grasses and trees were letting up, meaning they were finally close to home. Negan looked eagerly out the window and grinned as the familiar glass windows gleamed into view.

"Home sweet, fucking, home."

Josh pulled in around the Roamers chained to the fences. They half-heartedly slapped at the truck and growled, but the truck just rumbled on past. After they'd backed into the loading dock, Negan jumped out of the truck and rolled his neck, relishing the loud popping sounds.

He pounded on the door and heard grumbles and groans. Too many fucking ruffled feathers in his group. The door opened and several of the men were taken aback when they saw a less than amused Negan at the door.

"Alright fuckers, let's get this shit unload-what the fuck?"

And then the gunfire started. Negan dove out of the way, flattening himself to the ground as shells and bullets ricocheted on the ground beside him. He saw three of his men fall, dead to the ground beside him and his stomach rolled. Negan crawled under the truck and clamped his hands over his ears as the gunfire echoed from above.

Finally the shots ceased and a pair of legs descended from the belly of the truck. Negan reached forward and yanked the ankles in front of him. There was a loud clatter as the machine gun fell to the ground next to them and then a grunt as whoever it fucking was fell on his face. Negan hustled his ass from underneath and rolled the person from belly to back. He looked at the one eyed face and began to laugh and laugh.

"If it isn't Rick's son, Carl, with his gigantic man sized balls."

Negan pushed himself up and offered Carl a hand. The latter took it, his eye squinting suspiciously up at Negan, who shook his head.

"Fucking amazing. You just fucking gunned down five or six of my fucking men."

"I was aiming for you," Carl snapped.

"Did you pick that fucking gun because it looks cool? You totally fucking did, didn't you? Look, kid, I'm not gonna like. You got that whole fucking future serial killer thing going on, you scare the fuck out of me. You're a fucking badass."

"If you come quietly, I'll let the rest of your men live."

Oh, it was just too fucking much. Negan kicked the machine gun away before he bent over laughing at the kid. He was fucking impressive, no doubt about it. Negan was intrigued. Very intrigued. Fifteen and already a cold blooded killer, just waiting to be shaped and molded. Fucking awesome. Rick was there trying to be a nice fucking guy and then there was his killing machine kid. Oh it was too fucking good to be true!

"You're a threat to our people and you must be disposed of," Carl said in a quiet, but heavy tone, which made Negan laugh all the more.

This fucking kid! Amazing that a kid with such big fucking balls came from Rick the fucking Prick. Rick the Prick who bent over and let himself get fucked. And here was his fucking kid, killing his men and threatening him.

"Enough," Negan said, standing up, towering over Carl.

Behind him, he heard footsteps pounding towards the dock.

"Boss?" Dwight called. "Everything clear? Anything to be concerned-what the fuck?"

Fucking Dwight. Negan looked up at him. "Have the men burn the bodies and unload the fucking truck while I show our new guest around."

"Guest?" Carl asked, narrowing his eye. But Negan saw the quickest flash of fear. He broke into a grin.

"Yes, you're my guest. For fucking now."

Negan grabbed him by the elbow and turned him around, heading towards the front doors instead.

"What are you going to do to me?" Carl asked quietly.

Negan glared down at him as they walked. He shook his head. "Number one, don't shatter my image of you. You're a fucking badass. Don't be scared of me. It's a fuckin disappointment. Number two, do you really think I'm going to ruin the surprise?"

He grinned. "Fuck you, kid." He raised his hand and rapped on the front door. "Seriously, fuck you."

The door creaked open and he escorted Carl inside. He probably wouldn't even get to fuck one of his wives. But there would at least be entertainment. Carl piqued his curiosity.

"Sir!" One of the guards at the door stepped forward. Negan couldn't fucking remember the asshole's name to save his life. "I heard gunfire. Is everything okay?"

He held up one of his hands. "I'm taking care of the situation."

Fucking Christ it was hotter than a sweaty mans ballsack. Negan shifted in his jacket, and put a hand on his hip.

The blonde boy nodded at him. "Yes, sir. Did you...Molly's still got the cough..."

"We got some good shit. I think you've got enough points for the medicine," Negan said, slapping the young man on the back who beamed with pride. Idiot. He had no fucking idea if the dude had enough points. Not his problem until the fucker stole something.

The door across the hall opened and Carson stuck his head out. "Welcome back, sir. Is the gunfire something to worry about?"

"Nope, I'm fucking on it."

Christ these fucking people.

Carson nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Sir, there is a situation..."

Negan sighed. "Lead the way."

Carson glanced down at Carl in his stupid fucking hat and turned away. Negan followed him through the door and motioned for Carl to come with them.

If he had to chance a guess, he bet his newest wife, Amber had done fucked up. They thought he couldn't see them making googly eyes at each other. Fuck, Sherry even thought he didn't know she still looked for Dwight.

Their footsteps clanged against the rickety metal platform. Carson sniffed and jotted something down on the clipboard he always fucking carried.

Below were his 'people.' Taken in from the outside, brought into the working fold. Negan watched them with a semblance of pride. He built this. He saved these people. As much as they all were fucking stupid, he had to congratulate himself on keeping this many alive. Fuckers.

There was a low buzz among the workers below along with the sounds of clanking and banging. He looked at Carson and sighed. "Let me guess. Amber?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

In his head he counted to five. Fucking Amber. He knew some shit like this would happen. Unfuckingbelievable. With Mark no less.

"What a fucking disappointment. Well, I want to talk to her first. Find Mark, but don't do anything yet, just keep tabs on him for now," Negan said and he jabbed an awed Carl forward. The boy had been too busy taking in the floor of the factory to pay attention.

"Of course, sir. Did you need anything else?"

"No, no," he said and waved Carson off.

Carson disappeared down the platform and into the crowd below. He cleared his throat loudly and people began to turn and stare. A ripple went through the workers and they all fell to their knees. Idiots. But he was their savior, so what the fuck ever. Negan pushed Carl down the platform and they walked side by side through the factory floor, through the throng of kneeling people, to the double doors leading to the stairs. People muttered his name as they passed and there was a sense of awe among them. Again, they were all fucking idiots.

"As you were!" Negan roared over his shoulder, his voice echoing all around. He grinned down at Carl. "That's respect, boy. Come on, top floor."

At the top of the stairs he allowed Carl to go first. He grinned down at the boy. "Prepare to be amazed."

He shoved the double doors open and stepped into the leisure room where his five wives lounged about. Except for Amber and Sherry, who were huddled on the chaise lounge closest to the door. Stupid fucking Amber was sobbing. He beat back the urge to roll his eyes and instead he leaned down to whisper into Carl's ear.

"Every woman in Alexandria dresses either like a goddamn elderly lesbian or like they're fucking going to war. You don't get much to look at so stare at their titties, knock yourself the fuck out." Negan said waving his hand at Carl, who was indeed busy staring at the half naked women roaming about the room.

Nayna and her fucking combat boots popped into his mind. Jesus, she must have stolen them from her fucking husband, they were like fucking clown shoes on her. But she redeemed herself with her tight leggings and that fucking cargo vest that wouldn't zip over her perfect round titties. Instead it only served to push them closer together, giving her a nice fucking amount of cleavage. And Negan was pretty sure Carl wasn't fucking looking at Nayna's titties.

He stopped, amused with himself. He was thinking far too much about Nayna. And her titties.

Thinking about titties brought him back to the matter at hand and he glared down at Amber. "God fucking damnit, Amber."

Sherry looked up at him. "Go easy on her, Negan, she knows she fucked up."

He rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "I ever hit any of you? Calm the fuck down."

Sherry stood up and put a hand on his chest. He glared down at her. She knew the protocol and she flushed and let her hand slide off and drop to her side.

But she still opened her fucking trap anyway. "Look, Negan, she made a mistake. You know the transition-"

He chopped his hand in the air. "Sherry? Shut the fuck up and back the fuck off, okay? Step the fuck aside so I can talk to her."

One of the biggest drawbacks to having five wives? They never shut the fuck up. And of course there was always some fucking drama between the five of them. He usually didn't get involved too much with them besides sticking his dick in them.

He walked around the lounger and bent down to look Amber in the eye. "Amber, honey, you know your place here is voluntary. I don't want anyone here who doesn't want to be here. You understand that, right?"

Amber nodded shakily, the tears dropping from her cheeks onto her tits. "Yes."

Negan gripped her cheeks between his thumb and fingers. "You can go back to Mark if you want to. Is that what you want? Go back to earning points? Working for your supper? You can do all of that. But you know what you can't do?"

"Cheat on you?" She whispered.

"Exactly!" He roared and stood. "You can't fucking cheat on me, Amber. So what the fuck is it going to be?"

"I'm staying, I love you, Negan."

Yeah, fucking right she did. Negan was under no false impressions about any of them. They only liked being lazy and not having to work for their food. They wouldn't fucking know hard work if it slapped them on the ass and called them honey.

He chuckled. "Of course you do. Sherry, go tell Carson to prepare the iron."

He turned back to the kid and gestured to the doors opposite. "Let's go kid."

Once they were safely tucked inside Negan pushed the kid across the room. "Have a fucking seat."

"Why?"

Negan felt his eyes squinting at the boy in a rather harsh manner. His patience was wearing thin. The kid was a bad ass, but he was a fucking punk all the same.

"Because," he said through gritted teeth. "I'd like to get to know you better, Carl. Now sit the fuck down."

"Are they all your wives?" Carl asked as he sat in the chair opposite of Negan.

"Yep. Always wanted to be able to fuck a bunch of women. So why stick to the old boring fucking rules?"

Carl's eye narrowed.

"What?"

"You should leave Nayna alone," Carl said quietly.

A grin spread over his face again and he burst out laughing. "Why?"

"Because she doesn't want you to touch her."

He snorted. "Carl you have a lot to learn about women. Anyway, what is she to you? She's too young to be your mother."

"She's my..." But the boy seemed to be lost for words.

Negan leaned forward, grinning. "A lesson for you. Free fucking advice if you will. There are some women out there who like 'bad men' but don't want to like them. So they pretend and tell themselves they're better than that and they hate that they want it. But want it they fucking do. And your Nayna. She's one of them. There are some women who admit freely they like bad men and then there are women who don't like bad men.

"Nayna likes to think of herself as a good person. And she may very well be. I don't know her quite well enough to fucking say. But she's the type of lady who likes it rough, but doesn't want to like it rough because she thinks it's not normal."

This shit was far too fucking deep for a 15 year old. It was all going way over his head.

"Enough about Nayna and sex. Now what am I going to fucking do with you?"