A/N: Okay soooo, who hates me? I feel terrible. I hate that this took me two months to update, but I had other things I was working on. I'm contemplating posting a Daryl fic I've got going on AO3 over here just to see how it does. Yay/nay? Anyways, let me know what you think of this chapter! Again, I'm super sorry for the delay on this. I'll try to update it pretty regularly!

"How much of my story did you hear?" Olivia asked him, later that evening. She lay beside him, on her good shoulder, her head in the groove between his shoulder and his neck. Negan had his arm draped loosely around her, avoiding her stitches, and drew patterns on her bare arm. He'd brought them dinner an hour earlier and they dined on the couches in his room.

His muscles tensed beneath her, and for probably the first time in his life, Negan was sheepish. Then he scolded himself and told her the truth.

"Nearly all of it. Heard you talking and I couldn't bring myself to walk away. I'm sorry." He sounded truly apologetic and Olivia sighed into his t-shirt, enjoying the smell of him. It was a mix of soap, leather, and something muskily masculine that she just dubbed 'Negan'.

"I probably would've told you at some point anyways," she said quietly. She felt Negan shift as he looked down at her.

"Would you have?" he asked softly, but challengingly. Olivia leaned back slightly to meet his eyes, her lips pressed in a tight line.

"Maybe not. It's not something I like discussing with people, as you can imagine."

Negan lifted a hand to brush across her hair. "It wasn't your fault. No matter what he said to you."

"I know. It took me a long time to stop believing it was. I would fight Ethan about it, tell him I had no control, but when I wasn't getting any kind of response back, I just…I don't know, started to wonder. Was it something I was feeding her? Or something I wasn't doing? Did I forget some kind of vaccination or something? I asked myself so many questions, tried to find the answers, I nearly drove myself mad. Then I just…accepted it for what is was. Destiny, fate, what have you, and I learned to move on. That's all I could do."

Negan was quiet under her for a few moments, though his hand was still working through her hair. It was relaxing her. Paired with the warm food in her belly, she was close to falling asleep.

"I did the same with my wife. I spent a lot of time blaming myself enough for the both of us, but Lucille, she didn't blame me at all. Not even when I came clean about my mistress." He huffed. "Sounds fucking medieval when I say it like that. But that's what she was, and I hated myself every day for it. I never really pictured myself as a one-woman man, but when Lucille was diagnosed, I dropped my side woman in a heartbeat and gave Lucille the care and dedication I should've throughout our entire marriage. That was the guilt trip of the century."

"I guess that explains the harem of wives then." She'd tried to say it jokingly, but Negan detected the small twinge of jealousy in her tone. He chuckled and tightened his hold on her, enjoying the fact that he'd made her jealous, especially of women who barely held his attention for more than twenty minutes.

"You seem to get along well with Sherry," he pointed out.

"She's a good woman, a good friend." Her voice trailed off as a yawn broke through, and she smiled slightly when Negan nuzzled her hair.

"You can sleep if you want."

Olivia chewed her lip for a moment before she pulled away and sat up on her knees, shaking her head. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't trust my shoulder not to give out."

The grin he gave her was all hungry wolf and it made warmth pool in her belly. She almost changed her mind from that look alone, but logic won out and she stood up from the bed. She idly rubbed her sore shoulder as Negan unfolded his large frame and walked around the bed. On his way to the door, he swiped up Lucille, who was resting against one of the plush couches, and laid her tenderly on his shoulder.

"I'll walk you. Got some shit to take care of," he said, looking down at her. He dropped a kiss to her head softly and she turned to lead the way out of the room. Negan's wives were seated in the other room, all wearing similar black dresses and heels. All but one of them leered as Olivia ducked her head, ultimately avoiding their stares. Sherry was the only one who wasn't looking at her like Olivia was encroaching on her territory; they were both aware of the reason why, and it calmed Olivia as she and Negan stepped out into the hallway.

"Thought I'd be buried six feet under," she muttered with an exaggerated shiver. Beside her, Negan chuckled. She cast him a sideways glance. "Glad you think it's funny. You're not the one encroaching on territory." Negan's hand around her bicep made her stop and look up at him. His touch was gentle but his expression was firm.

"Hey, my wives don't have shit to say about who I choose to spend my fucking time with. Any of them give you problems, you let me know pronto."

She set her mouth in a thin line and nodded slowly. "You think they will? Give me a hard time?"

"Not if they're fucking smart, doll face."

He walked her to her room further down the hall and gave her one hell of a knee-buckling goodbye kiss outside her door. She stared dreamily after him as he walked towards the stairwell before shaking herself and locking herself in her room.

Meanwhile, Negan headed downstairs with the intentions of rounding up a scouting group. Simon, as much as he despised the idea, would show them the clearing in the woods. One of his soldiers intercepted him at the bottom of the stairs, and Negan ordered that Simon, Dwight, and a handful of others meet him out by the vehicles.

Once they were all gathered, Negan spoke:

"It seems we have some competition in our area. A few days ago, two of our own were attacked by another group. We need to scout the area for any sign of them and determine whether they're going to become a more serious fucking problem. Now, Simon, you royally fucked up, my man. You willingly disobeyed orders and nearly got one of our own killed. You are not yet forgiven for that, and it pains me to have to put you in charge. But since Olivia is laid up, you're the only one I can rely on. Do not disappoint me again. You'll head out first thing in the morning. Get some sleep, boys."

The group dispersed, and as Negan rounded the building, he hissed a curse as he caught Olivia making her way into the barn. He followed her inside silently and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He watched as she clipped a lead line to Daredevil's halter and led the horse out of its stall. She dropped the lead line and turned towards the door, jumped when she noticed Negan standing there. He huffed as she at least managed to look sheepish.

"Thought you were sleeping," he said, amusement tinging his tone as he stepped forward. She scratched her arm idly before turning to the small green brush box propped up against one of the stalls. She bent down, pulling out a weird plastic stick with a metal hook on the end.

"Couldn't sleep," she replied with a subtle lift of her shoulders.

"Sounds like you didn't try." He came to a stop beside her at the black horse's shoulder, though he took a small step back when she bent at the waist, putting her head far too close to his nether regions. A knot formed in his gut as his mind ran away from him. He played it off, watching as she picked up the horse's foot and used the tool in her hand to scrape dirt, feces, and who knew what else.

She straightened when she dropped the hoof and met his eyes evenly. "I didn't."

"You're supposed to be resting. You're no fucking good to me if you don't heal." His tone was laced with concern and it made her purse her lips. She stroked Daredevil's belly absentmindedly.

"I feel fine. It's sore but it won't kill me. Besides, I can't just…sit cooped up in there. I'll go crazy." He looked doubtful as he looked down at her. "I'm fine, I promise. And if I feel like I'm not, I'll take it down a notch. I just…need to feel useful."

He watched her for a moment before sighing through his nose. He took her chin lightly in his hand, his eyes boring into hers. The emotion swimming in them nearly made her pull away, but she stood fast. She let herself relax when he leaned down and just lightly brushed his lips across hers.

"Don't make me regret it," he told her lowly, their lips millimeters apart. She nodded, her chin still in his hand. He pulled away from her a moment later and turned to look at the horse. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Cleaning his feet. It's important to keep horse's hooves clear of rocks and mud and shit. Makes for a cesspool for infections. Especially rocks." She moved them towards Daredevil's hind end, and Negan took a sweeping sidestep away as Olivia picked up his back foot. She beckoned him closer, though he did so hesitantly. "You see this triangle here? That's called the frog. It's a shock absorber for when the horse puts his foot down. It's super sensitive and if you scrape it, you'll know it. Daredevil here looks like he was in great care, so he doesn't seem to have too many issues with his feet."

"You aren't afraid he'll…" He clucked his tongue and kicked a foot forward. Olivia smiled.

"Not really. Horses like this are pretty used to having their feet messed with. Do you want to try?" She held the hoof pick out to him but Negan shook his head vehemently.

"No fucking way. I'm not getting that close to the business end." Olivia laughed at his word choice and his expression and he smiled at succeeding in making her laugh.

"Suit yourself. He won't hurt you. You don't have to be scared." There was a teasing glint in her eye that made Negan's stomach flutter.

"Scared? I'm not scared of shit." Hell yes he was.

"You were scared the other day," she murmured quietly, her eyes softening sadly. Damn, she had him there.

"I was," he admitted.

"It's okay, you know. We'll find these men and find out why they shot at us. I'd still like another shot at Simon though…"

"You and me both. I'm sending him out there tomorrow morning to scout. He's the only one besides you who knows where the fuck it is, and I'll be damned if I send you out there in your condition."

"My condition? I have stitches in my back, not a broken leg," she argued. In a flash, Negan's demeanor hardened, shutting her out again.

"The answer is still no. You're not even supposed to be straining yourself caring for your little ponies."

She scoffed. "Screw you, Negan. I got shot, I'm not dead. And could you be any more condescending?"

He took a menacing step towards her, towering over her, his eyes flashing angrily. "Don't push me, Olivia. The answer is still no. Now put him back in his stall and get your ass up to your fucking room. I don't want to see you out until Carson gives you the all clear."

Olivia clenched her jaw, meeting his steely gaze head-on. Rage swirled in her belly, but she reminded herself to pick her battles. With only two of Daredevil's feet done, she whirled away from the leader of the Saviors and led Daredevil into his stall. When she stormed by Negan, she rammed her good shoulder into his arm for good measure, making clear that she was not pleased with the way he'd treated her.

He left her alone for the rest of the day, and Olivia spent the time doing as he'd said—up in her room and bored out of her mind. She thought about reading, but none of the titles caught her interest in her current frame of mind. Negan's attitude flip still had her reeling. One moment he was tender and gentle, and the next he was angry and barking orders. So much for the caring man beneath the beast. She sighed. That wasn't true. Negan had already changed in her eyes, had shown her a side she'd never in a million years thought she'd see. And in return, she'd opened up to him, let him in to glimpse the dark recesses of her mind, where her most painful memories were locked away. Though the images of that day with the young man would still haunt her, the ruthless leader of the Saviors had somehow gotten under her skin and made her care about him, made her care for the people he provided for and protected. Sure, sometimes his way of handling things seemed medieval or barbaric, but she was slowly coming to terms with the fact that the world was no longer a place of civility or rules. Negan had shown her that.

She dragged a tired hand down her face. Once again, her relentless mind had worn her out, and after she showered, changed, and hopped into bed on her stomach, sleep found her quickly and easily.