Author's note: I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter, it was one I put off writing for a couple of days because I had to steel myself a little before beating the crap out of characters that I love. Violence towards them never comes very easy. I hope you find this chapter to be a little bit more on the light side, well as light as this story really ever gets. I wrote this chapter from Negan's perspective because he's fascinating to write for and because the frustration of helplessness for him as he heals is something I wanted to explore. NOTE: A couple people expressed interest in the scene where Negan and Rori reunite. Unfortunately in this chapter I am skipping ahead of that by a couple weeks. That moment between them will be fleshed out, just from Rori's perspective, in a different chapter. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and get the chance to leave a few comments if you please.
Two weeks later, Negan's POV
Fuck me. I'm sore as shit today. I stretch out my legs in the cold bed. Damn. Rori must have gotten up already. Last night was a rough one on her. Well fuck they all are, but she didn't stop crying, even after I woke her up from the fourth nightmare.
I grit my teeth and make myself sit up, she'll be back soon and I'm not gonna pussy out and make her help me up. She does way too much for me as it is. I rip off my t-shirt and throw it down because it's soaked through with sweat. I know it's probably hot as hell in the room right now but with the fucking fever it still makes me feel like I'm gonna freeze my balls off.
The door cracks open slowly. Rori walks in with her usual tray of whatever shit she's gonna try to get me to eat today. I mean the cooks have never been phenomenal but holy jesus, everything just tastes disgusting lately. This fucking infection has killed my appetite.
She doesn't look too good today. The bags under her eyes are getting darker and stretching further down her cheeks each time I see her. What little sleep she gets with me, clearly isn't cutting it.
"Hey Darlin'." She looks up at me, barely keeping the tray balanced as she closes the door behind her. The little smile she gives me is pathetic, it doesn't even threaten to touch her eyes.
She brings the tray over and slides it on the bed, climbing in herself, sitting cross-legged beside me. I can't help the face I make seeing the omelette she got for me. She grabs the fork and cuts a piece off of the eggs, I have to stop her when she starts to raise the fork up for me as if she's gonna feed me.
"Let me fucking do it," I say quietly. She gives me a look, like she's debating listening to my request. "Come on, doll face, I sat up just fine by myself, didn't I? I'm doing fine today." She bites her lip, still hesitant. I want to at least pretend to be a fucking man so I just take the fork from her and shove the nasty egg in my mouth.
She lets out a sigh, but she's relenting. She leans back against the headboard of the bed, but still keeps an eye on me as I take another bite.
"You doing alright today?" I ask her, knowing the answer already, but hoping that maybe today's the day I'll finally get to hear her voice again. From the moment we got back to the sanctuary she stopped talking. She's taken care of me for almost two weeks now without saying a word.
She just bites the inside of her lip and shrugs as an answer to my question.
I finish the rest of the omelette without trying to get her to talk again. I wish she would just let me know what was going on inside that head of hers. People visit me on and off all day long, Carson checking up on me, my lieutenants keeping me updated and getting my orders, but I don't give a damn about the shit they have to say, it's not their voices I would give my left nut to hear.
I wince a little as I set my fork down on the plate. Tired though she might look, Rori's fucking beautiful blue eyes never miss a thing when she's in caretaker mode; She stretches out a little as she reaches into her jeans pocket. She hands me the little assortment of pills she makes me take a couple times a day, painkillers and antibiotics.
With a swig of the water she brought me I throw back the pills and imagine I can already feel the narcotic magic numbing me up all over.
Rori gets off my bed and picks up the tray, acting like she's gonna leave to take it down to the mess hall.
"That can wait, just hang tight with me a bit, okay?" I keep my voice really soft with her when I talk. Even still, with the silence that sits with us it sounds like I'm yelling into a microphone. She just shrugs at my words and brings the tray over to the table in the corner before resuming her spot next to me.
I reach over and tuck a curl that's fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. I hate that she flinches when I touch her, she tries to mask it, trying to make sure I don't notice, but she's not the only one who always pays attention.
"Wanna look over the stitches?" She always lights up a little when she's focusing on medicine, and I just want the blank look she walks around with to go away. It's barely like half a fucking second later and she's already standing by my side of the bed, making me raise my arm up so she can check on the stab wound.
"I'll let you give me a whole body physical if you wanna play doctor." I wink at her, and all I get in return is a finger jabbed against my stitches. I guess my attempt at a joke isn't very well appreciated. Fuck that actually hurt.
She looks like she's pleased with whatever healing she see's around the stitches, but her face twists with concern a little as she notices how warm I am. "You gave me the antibiotic already, Rori, I'm fine. The infection is clearing up." She nods but she still doesn't seem fully satisfied.
She walks around and sits back down next to me. "I let you look at mine. Your turn." I know she hates it, but she pulls back the scarf around her neck, showing me the stitches across the front of her throat. I feel a little sick every time I see them, if that cocksucker had just pushed a little deeper I might not have her right now.
She doesn't show me the bruises or the burns and I don't push her to do so. I know it must be killing her inside to see those same marks on her body again. Even though the fucker wasn't successful, it's just a reminder of all the times the other guy was. I wish she would just fucking talk to me.
I feel so fucking ridiculous, leaning against the wall of the shower, still not able to fully support my weight with my right leg. I know I must stink like all fucking hell, and that's the only god damn reason I'm even letting Rori help me with this. It's emasculating to feel so helpless.
I watch her closely as she, still fully clothed, gets absolutely soaked, trying to wash me. It is ridiculous how much the roles feel reversed between us. I should be the one slaving on hand and foot to make sure she's okay, not vice versa. I slip a little along the wall, and her hand is instantly on my back, making sure I keep my balance. This is fucking humiliating.
When we're done in the shower she helps me limp over to my bed, where she'd laid out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for me. She actually lets me do something for myself, letting me struggle to get dressed alone as she goes back to the shower to clean herself off. Her dog sits outside the bathroom waiting for her like she doesn't trust me. Too fucking bad she doesn't realize I can barely wipe my own ass, much less attack her owner.
When she comes out, half a century later, her skin is pink from scrubbing and she's dressed in a pair of her shorts and one of my shirts. She looks fucking hot, which doesn't help the fact that it's been almost three weeks since I've been able to fire one off. Wobbly grandma arm fat. Wobbly grandma arm fat. I have to distract myself to keep from freaking Rori out with a hard-on.
"Wanna stay here another night?" I know that if I don't ask, Rori won't invite herself, in spite of the fact that there hasn't been a night she's slept in her own room since we got back.
She nods slightly as she takes her curls out of the towel twist on top of her head, letting them fall down her back. Bailey follows her over as she flips out my lamp for me and walks around to climb in on the other side. I don't let the dog on my bed, so she curls up on the floor next to Rori's side.
Rori lets out a ragged sigh when her head hits the pillow. I know even without her saying it that she fucking hates going to sleep. She's able to distract herself well enough during the day to keep fear at bay, but the monsters crawl into bed with us without fail each night.
I push past her initial flinch when I take her into my arms, tucking her warm little body against my own. It hurts a little bit still to stretch out this way, but if she feels like my arms give her even the slightest bit of protection, weak as they may be right now, it's worth the extra soreness. I know it's been helping her at least a little because she falls asleep so much faster than she used to.
Even though I can feel her tiny body against me, it still feels like I'm holding a ghost. I want to reach into her mind and destroy the monsters that trap her in there. I wish I could go back and kill those bastards another thousand fucking times over. She had barely promised me that she'd never leave me, told me that she fucking loved me, and those cocksuckers took her from me.
I'll protect this fucking shell of her that they left me with until my last dying breath, but it doesn't mean that I don't miss the shit out of the woman that used to be inside. I want her to see that. I want her to know she's safe. I want her to come back to me.
I'm almost asleep when the whimpering starts. I can feel her shaking in my arms. I try to let her get a solid night's sleep and work through it, but the cries get too bad to bear listening to any longer.
"Rori," I whisper, stroking her arm gently. "Rori." I say it again a little louder, trying not to startle her awake. She still just keeps trembling against me. "Rori, it's Negan. Wake up." At the sound of my name, she stirs enough to let me know she's awake.
"Wanna talk about it?" I ask her as she reigns herself back in, her body finally stops trembling. She shakes her head. No surprises there.
"Do you want to go back to sleep?" She shakes her head again.
"Okay." I just tuck her under my chin and tighten my arms around her. I want to talk to her. I want her to bust my balls and piss me off, anything that might mean I get to hear her voice.
An idea hits me, but I'm not too fond of it. Maybe if I give her a piece of myself she'll trust me enough to come back.
"You remember our fight? Out in the truck?" I ask her, trying not to go too deep into that day, but it's as good a segway as I have to work with. She nods beneath my chin.
"You asked me then if I'd lost someone before." She nods again. I really don't fucking want to talk about it, but I'll try anything if it means I might get her to come back, even if it's only for me.
"I have." I start slowly, trying to figure out how to tell this story without sounding like a pussy. "You actually remind me a lot of her. Not so much in looks, but in the way she used to piss me the fuck off and make me want to give her the world in the same damn breath. She was my wife before this all. Lucille. I was a fucking bastard to her. I don't know how she managed to stomach my bullshit, but somehow she did."
Talking about this feels weird as shit, it's been so long since I've thought about all this, all the shit I put that woman through.
"I cheated on her every second I could. She knew about it too. For some fucking reason she didn't change the locks on me, she let me come home to her every night, still looked me in the eye and told me she loved me. I loved the fuck out of her too, even if I was a cunt about showing it. I didn't realize what I had until she was gone. Cancer, right after the world went to shit. Of all the fucking things to get you when the dead are eating the living, cancer would be the goddamn one to do her in. I didn't even have the balls to put her out myself."
Rori still doesn't say anything. She just turns around in my arms, wrapping her own around me. I don't even care that her arm is digging into my ribs, I'll take this. It's something. A tiny ass step back to me. I'll take anything I can get.
My door opens and to my surprise it's not Rori, but Jackie and Emily. It's been four weeks since I got back to this place and this is the first time any one of the other bitches has stopped by to visit me.
"You're up!" Emily squeals, fake delight covering her face.
"Oh good!" Jackie joins in the squealing, "We've been so worried about you!"
Worried my fucking ass.
"I've been here the whole fucking time." I give them a shit attitude because they deserve it.
"We're sorry, Negan! We know we should've visited you. We really wanted to! But I get so scared around sick or injured people. I didn't want to see you like that!" Emily saunters over to me, taking my hand in hers in a pathetic display of false affection. I know they use me as a means of not having to work, and shit I use them as a means of getting my rocks off, but damn they could've at least pretended to give a shit this past month.
"Yeah! I'm the same way. Ever since my first husband died I've been scared of death. I didn't want to think you might leave us!" Jackie is equally pathetic. Whatever, at least they both are hot.
"You girls are gold digging bitches, you know that?" It doesn't mean I'm not a little glad for the company. This has to be the most I've heard the female voice in a four fucking weeks.
"Yeah. But you love us anyway!" Emily, climbs up in my lap, and I don't push her off even though she's sitting on my fucking bullet leg.
"I don't believe the word 'love' has ever been thrown around with you two."
"Oh, don't be mean now! Come on, we carved out the whole afternoon to spend with you!" Jackie coos at me, taking Emily's spot next to me, holding my hand.
"Man, a whole afternoon out of your time sitting on your asses, primping yourselves! You ladies sacrifice so fucking much for me." They smile even though sarcasm covers every word from my mouth.
"Like I said, you love us anyway." Emily bats her heavily made up lashes at me, before planting a kiss on my lips. Her lips, compared to the ones I actually want, feel dry and disgusting. I push her back, gently, trying not to hurt her feelings, but by the look in her eyes the damage is already done.
I'm getting frustrated with the girls acting like I should be thrilled to see them. Both Jackie and Emily are pouting at me because I'm not skipping around at their presence. Sometimes I think I'm an idiot for thinking having to deal with more than one woman's crazy was a good idea.
"The only place I'm gonna fucking let you girls put your lips is my dick. You owe me." I let my frustration show in my voice. I haven't gotten off in a fucking month, and it's starting to feel like my dick should just be stuffed and mounted on the wall. If they're gonna hang out with me I might as well get something out of it.
I guess they are down for it, because Emily crawls off me and they work my pants down my legs a bit. It's almost embarrassing how hard I am just at the thought of a blowjob, but I really don't give a damn right now.
Holy balls, I almost lose it the second Emily puts her lips around my cock. I don't like thinking about how much dick she has to have sucked to be this good, but it's hard not to when she swallows my whole length without so much as a gag. Jackie takes my balls in her hand and starts stroking along the seam. Jesus this feels so fucking good.
I have to pull out all the stops to keep myself from blowing my load in the first thirty seconds. I just lay back and enjoy the way the girls are going to town on me. I shoot up though, the second I hear my door open. I don't even care that it feels like I'm tearing my barely healed muscles, because Rori is standing there, tray in hand, with the most fucking hurt expression I've ever seen.
I'm such a fucking idiot. It takes me a moment to push the girls off me because neither of them notice or care that we have an audience. "Rori, wait!" I call out, but she just shakes her head and walks over to the table. She sets down the tray she was carrying and is out the door before I can even pry myself off the bed.
"Get the fuck out." I growl at the girls and they scurry out the door as fast as they can while I stuff my very flaccid dick back in my pants. "God fucking damnit." I mutter to myself. I just let my dick steamroll over whatever chances I have at getting Rori to come out of her shell for me.
I limp over to the table to see what Rori brought me. There's a small sandwich and an apple sitting on the plate, my pills on the tray next to a glass of water, but there's a small strange box that I've never seen before also on the tray.
I untie the little ribbon she'd wrapped around the box and remove the lid, wondering what the hell she brought me. My stomach drops the second I see what's inside.