Author's note: *sing song voice* I'm ba-ack! But seriously, I am so freaking sorry for taking a million years to get this update out. I was the lucky grand prize winner of a case of pneumonia! Which was kind enough to sap me of all will to live much less energy to write for the past week and a half. I swear I tried, but it was like everything I wrote took a beating from the crap-stick. No one should be put through the torture of reading that junk. I hope you all forgive me for taking forever, but now that I'm back on my feet more or less, regular updates should be expected again! It's pretty exciting, because we're getting into about the last third of this story, and I'm super pumped for what this is all leading up to! As always, feedback of all kinds is enthusiastically encouraged, reviews are my lifeblood and a fire under my butt to get writing! Thank you so much for reading and enjoy!
I don't even know how to feel. The soft, luxurious comforter of Negan's bed feels raw against my skin as I sit alone. Waiting. My heart bubbles with sorrow, and my insides burn with simmering rage, but what concerns me more is the growing, gnawing sense of numbness that's creeping up within me.
I listen to the treasured sounds of silence, anticipating the moment when the creak of a door and the thudding of footsteps will fracture the quiet that smothers me.
How could he do this to me? Ben is one of my only friends in the compound, a mooring in the tumultuous sea that is my life. And tomorrow he's being ripped out of my life because of the foolish jealousy from a man that refuses to listen to any judgement and reason save his own. I never knew I was capable of feeling such great anger towards Negan. Nothing he has ever done has stung me quite like this.
My hands knot together in a desperate attempt to alleviate the growing anxiety but it's to no avail. When the front door of the house opens, my heart beats loudly to the pounding of Negan's footsteps up the stairs.
I refuse to look at the door when it opens, I won't nervously scan Negan's expression for any indication of where I stand with him at the moment. He doesn't deserve that much concern on my part.
He crosses the room to where I sit, casting his imposing shadow over me even in the dimly lit room. His hand reaches for mine. The moment his fingers touch my own it's like they've been singed by fire and I jerk my hand away viciously. All the rage I've been stewing in bursts to the surface as I take in his appearance, disheveled, sweaty, and covered head to toe in the blood of a now dead rapist.
"Don't touch me with that monster's blood on your hands," I hiss, an unfamiliar coldness covering every word as it spills from my mouth.
Fury blackens Negan's eyes but with a clenched jaw he walks away from me. Tension rolls in the muscles beneath his shirt as he slips out of his leather jacket and heads to the bathroom.
A moment later the shower flips on and the sound of the gushing water flips a switch in me as well. It's like all the swirling emotions that could never express themselves in words have no choice but to escape through tears. A silent sob shakes my body as I replay the events of this afternoon, the moment I knew what Negan was going to do to Ben, and the sound of his voice as he confirmed my bitter suspicions.
I listen to the splashing and motions of Negan's shower as I struggle to regain my composure. I don't want my feelings to be misconstrued as only sadness, I want Negan to know the anger he's awakened in me.
Finally, the shower flips off and the muted shuffling sounds of Negan redressing filter into the bedroom along with the last of the steam.
A moment later he's standing over me again. I look up and see the anger is quieted in his eyes, overtaken by the calculating look I've seen so many times. This time I allow him to take my hand in his own. He waits until I hold his gaze, giving him the chance to read me like a book.
"Rori" -
I don't give him the chance to finish even so much as his sentence. The sound of his voice, normally a comfort, feels like a cheese grater running along my skin. I pull him by the hand down to my level, wrapping my hand around his neck and molding my lips to his in an emotionless kiss.
It's the only way I know to distract him from a conversation that will be unpleasant to the both of us, one that I don't have the courage to face yet. I deepen the kiss, refusing to give him dominance as I win the battle of our dancing tongues. Biting his lip I draw a quiet groan from his chest. If he knows this is a distraction, it's not stopping him from taking advantage.
His hands are rough as they rip my shirt over my head, flinging off my bra a second later. I follow suit, pushing his shirt up as high on his chest as I can before he takes over, pulling it over his head before discarding it to the ground. Not a second of haste is lost before he undoes my jeans and slides them over my hips, ridding me of my panties in the same motion.
I don't want to look him in the eyes so I flip over on my hands and knees, a position I've always hated but serves my purpose in this moment. He gets the hint and with a brief clang of his belt and shuffling down of his own pants, he enters me roughly, stinging the sensitive skin that wasn't quite as ready to hop along with my plan as the rest of me.
Each thrust burns until my body readjusts around his length and catches up enough to lubricate itself. I feel no tightening in my stomach, no curling in my toes as Negan pounds into me. We barely make a noise, save for the slapping of skin. Finally I feel his body convulse on top of me and his seed spill into my body.
He pulls out of me and I crumple to the bed, feeling empty inside and dirty all over. That wasn't making love, it wasn't even sex, it was soulless, emotionless fucking and it leaves me feeling tainted.
Negan crawls on the bed next to me, his body covered in sweat and reeking of sex in spite of having just gotten out of the shower. When he reaches out an arm to wrap around me, pulling me close the touch feels even more wrong than the sex. My body tenses under his arm and when he removes it from me I scoot farther away from him. Apparently that was the last straw for him.
"Rori, why the fuck are you acting like this?" His voice is as cold as mine was earlier.
"Do you really have to ask me that, or are you just feigning cluelessness?" I sit up and face him, looking into the black pits of his normally brown eyes. He meets my gesture, somehow managing to loom over me even in a seated position.
"You're upset about the fat kid? I've been planning on sending that fuck to an outpost for a while now, he's less than useless. This afternoon just sped the damn process up."
"He's my friend. One of my only friends. You're acting like a child."
"I must have learned from my resident fucking expert," he spits as he throws a hand in my direction to emphasize.
Silence stews between us for a moment as I feel my courage building in tandem with my anger and hurt. The question has been brewing in my mind for quite some time but I can't swallow it back any longer.
"What am I to you?
"What do you fucking mean?"
"I mean what I fucking asked you. What am I to you?"
"You're my goddamn wife, Rori." His eyes feel like they are burning holes in mine as he speaks through gritted teeth.
"You and I know that's nothing more than a position in our world. I'm not asking for my job title, I want to know what I am, who I am to you personally."
He leans back slightly, a dark, thoughtful expression on his face. My mind reels with all the answers I desperately want to hear, that I'm foolish enough to wish to hear. His love. The mother to his child. Hell, even a just a productive leader within the Sanctuary. Anything that will give me an idea of the scope of his feelings for me.
He's told me he cares about me, but honestly that's a meaningless phrase. I care about my dog. I care about the compound. I care about my job and my patients. But the only one I love so desperately it makes my heart bleed is the infuriating man in front of me.
The silence stews a little too long. His refusal or hell, inability to answer, feels like a stinging insult. He says he cares about me, yet he can't even come up with a pathetic sentence to describe what exactly that means.
"You know what? I think I can very well answer that for you." He looks at me, a cruel expression on his face, waiting for me to put the words in his fucking mouth. "I'm a piece of property to you. An object. A possession. Do you have any idea what this life is like for me? I love you, so goddamn much that I hate you sometimes for making me give you my heart when I'll never fucking get yours in return. Being forced to swallow that for months while I listened to you passing me over each night to fuck some other woman until I had the motherfucking misfortune of getting knocked up with your kid. That's what it took for you to give even that little bit of yourself to me… I'm nothing but a bloody toy to you, something to play with when you're bored, but throw a tantrum over at the thought of sharing."
"You're fucking right I don't want to share you. You are mine, Rori, and I don't want some fat fuck laying his hands on you, so I get to do whatever it motherfucking takes to keep them off."
"Well at least now you're telling the truth."
"I've never lied to you, Rori. Not even once. You don't get to act like I tricked you into this and pulled the rug out from under you. You knew exactly what you were fucking getting into when you said yes. You knew that saying yes to me meant you were claimed as mine and only mine from that moment on."
The scar on my face tingles at the word "claimed." I don't have a response for him. He can't say for a second that that choice in vocabulary was not a calculated selection. He knows exactly what he said and his face shows it in the feigned regret that paints it the moment the word slips from his mouth. This is bullshit.
"Rori. You know I didn't mean that." He reaches for me but I rip my hand out of his grasp, sliding off the bed as I do. This conversation is finished.
"That's a fucking lie and you know it. You do this every time, Negan. You say something that you know is too far, that you know will cut deep and kill the fight in me, and then turn around and pretend you didn't mean to. I'm tired of it." I grab my clothes off the ground and slip my shirt back on, not even caring to put on my bra first.
"And I'm fucking tired of you speaking to me like you have less respect for me than the fucking dirt you walk on. You disrespect me way too fucking often and I'm this close to refusing to tolerate it anymore."
I slide on my pants and underwear quickly. "Well you won't have to tolerate it anymore tonight." With that I grab my shoes and my bra and storm out of his room, letting the door slam shut behind me. My heart is pounding and unshed tears sting the back of my eyes, threatening to spill over before I make it to my room.
If Negan followed me, he doesn't do so to my room. As I step into the darkness, Bailey greets me at the door, her tail wagging lowly as if she can sense the mood I'm bringing with me. I lock my door and nuzzle into her warm fur, letting the tears finally fall once more.
The sun isn't even peeking over the horizon yet and I'm already in the infirmary. Bailey sleeps away in her little corner of the room and I'm looking unsuccessfully for something to distract me from my thoughts.
I got maybe an hour or two of sleep that night, and they were filled with nightmare after nightmare that somehow vanished from my memory instantly when I woke up.
I keep replaying my fight with Negan last night over and over again in my head. Maybe I overreacted, but why couldn't he come up with a single freaking word to describe what I am to him? Because what I said was true, because I am just property to him. I'm still just a claim, the game is the same, only my master bares a different name.
It stings powerfully to think that that might be true. That I was foolish enough to hand over my heart to someone without one of his own to give. This situation with Ben is just a symptom of the real problem, a sick double standard I'm expected to play out in Negan's system. I had to listen, hell even watch him screwing four other women for months, and the moment a friend of mine who was not in his right mind sets a toe out of the friend box, he's ripped away.
"Hey Rori." I turn around at the sound of the door opening to see Ben walking into the infirmary. His face is strained in the pain his hand must be in, but overall he doesn't look too much worse for wear.
"Hey! I'm glad you stopped by," I grab the envelope of a week's worth of antibiotics I'd set aside for him. "I was hoping you wouldn't forget your meds. And I wanted to say I'm sorry…"
He takes the envelope from my hands, tucking it into his jacket pocket. His eyes are soft in the little pockets of his flushed, pudgy face. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I figured I'd be shipped off eventually. It was coming sooner or later. Not your fault in the slightest."
"Still. I'm sorry to see you go like this. At least I get to say goodbye to you, right! And I mean the medical supplies will probably last a little longer without someone managing to get hurt every other second." A small smile lights up his face.
"Always looking on the bright side. And look at it this way, you don't have to worry about me throwing walkers on you anymore."
"Yeah, you really know how to start a friendship off on the right foot," I laugh.
"At least that's one thing I'm good at." He pauses a moment. "Rori, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but have you gained some weight?"
Wow, at least he can put tact down on his list of redeeming qualities. "Is this your way of trying to piss me off so I don't have to miss your sorry ass?"
"No no! I mean it looks good on you. I was just curious because you're always so skinny."
"Well if you have to ask, Mr. Manners, I'm pregnant." His eyes grow as large as dinner plates.
"Holy shit! Negan's kid?" Ben's voice rises in pitch with each word.
"No, with Bailey's," I gesture to the still sleeping pup, "I'm having puppies. Of course it's Negan's kid."
He lets out a huff of air, before smiling at me kindly. "That's so awesome! Congratulations!"
It's kind of a strange realization that this is the first time anyone has congratulated me on my death sentence. "Thanks, man. But I think condolences are more appropriate in this case."
He looks taken aback, like he can't understand why I'm not leaping over the moon for some reason. "What? You're having a baby! That's something to celebrate."
"Really? Is it? Take a look around. I had to cut off your finger yesterday because a reanimated, cannibalistic corpse took a chunk out of you." He still doesn't look like he gets it.
"There's always been messed up junk in the world. Even if we all manage to outlive the walkers, the world is still gonna be the same messed up place. New life is always a good thing."
"Yeah. Sure. Try telling me that when you're looking down the barrel of having to push a bowling ball out one of your orifices without medical care."
Would you believe this bastard rolls his eyes at me? "Women did it for thousands of years. You're gonna be fine. I stand by my congratulations. You're gonna make a great mom, Rori. You just gotta have hope."
His words strike a chord in me. I have been so focused on what it means to survive the pregnancy itself that I've never thought about what it'll be like if all manages to go well through the delivery. I'm gonna raise a child. Negan's child. Somehow I don't have as much confidence in my motherhood potential as Ben does. The sentiment is still pretty kind on his part.
"I may miss you yet." I feel a lump forming in my throat. I've never been good at goodbyes, and in this world, it feels like each time I say it, it's more permanent than I think.
"Nah, you'll be too distracted with your little hell raiser to miss me. Thanks for not hating me after I almost got you killed."
I'm grateful he makes me laugh, because I really don't want to cry in front of him. "No problem," I chuckle, "You probably gotta get going. I don't want you to get in more trouble on my account."
"Yeah, guess you're right." I know Negan would have a fit if he saw me but I don't give half a shit what he thinks right now. I throw my arms around Ben's large frame in a rare embrace.
"How about we don't say goodbye?" I pull away from him.
"See you later then?" He smiles.
"Yeah. See you later." The lump grows and my bottom eyelids swell with moisture as he turns to leave. "Ben?"
He turns back.
"You be safe okay? No more playing dentist with walkers. And don't forget to take your meds."
He laughs warmly, "Okay mother. Don't worry about me. You just worry about having a healthy little one."
"Can do." It's a bittersweet feeling watching one of my only friends walk away, knowing I may never see him again. At least this time I got the chance to say goodbye, or see you later, rather.
Three days later
Everyone in the compound, myself included, seems to breathe a little easier with Negan away on a week long run. Negan and I didn't speak once before he left on the run so I have no idea how it'll be once he returns. Thankfully I've been able to happily distract myself with work.
I almost debate knocking on the common room door before I enter, but I figure I have as much right as any of the other women to be there. My hand pauses on the cool metal of the doorknob. It takes every ounce of willpower in my body to force myself to turn it and enter.
If this were nothing more than a social call, the cold stares of Amber and Jackie on the couch would send my butt right back out the door, but this is more important than that.
"Well if it isn't the two faced snake herself," Amber sneers across the room.
Emily and Jackie look up from their conversation at the dining table. "Amber, don't start," Emily chides in disapproval.
"Hey, I'm not the one who up and stole one of the only good parts of this gig from all of us," Amber turns back to me. "And you didn't even have the decency to show your ugly face around here after. No, Miss I-couldn't-remember-to-use-a-condom is too good for us peons."
My blood boils at her shrill voice, and I have half a mind to walk out and let her fuck her life over without a second thought; but she should be thankful I'm feeling patient today.
"I didn't come here to start anything. I actually came because I need to talk to you, Amber."
Her lip curls like I just rubbed shit on her nose. "What could you possibly say that I'd want to hear?"
Okay, this whole patience deal is fading quickly. "Trust me. We're not exactly bosom buddies. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important."
"Fine, but make it fucking quick, Two-face." She pries her lazy ass off the couch and follows me out into the hall. Her face has bitter impatience written all over it. "I'm waiting."
I take a deep breath to keep from smacking that pissy look off her face. "You're being careless about Mark."
Her jaw clenches at her lover's name. "What do you fucking mean?"
"I mean I heard you two last night. You forget your room is right next to mine. If you want to sleep around that's your business, but fucking him in Negan's own house is stupid as hell and you know it."
"What I do and where I do it doesn't fucking concern you, Two-face. Negan isn't even in the Sanctuary right now."
I figured she would react this way, but I don't want to have to patch up yet another melted face. I don't want to have to watch another ironing. It's out of pure self interest that I'm even bothering to warn her.
"But you don't think everyone in the compound has eyes? What happens when someone sees him leaving the Big House in the middle of the night? You're being stupid as hell about this, someone's gonna say something to Negan."
I can see the fire in her icy blue eyes as they narrow. "Bitch, are you threatening me? I swear to god if you say one word I'll cut your fucking tongue out. Shit I'll cut that fucking bastard kid right out of you and slice it's tongue too"-
Shock covers her face when I wrap my hand around her throat, shoving her against the wall behind her. She grabs at my hand, but I grab both her wrists in one hand. She struggles to get out of my grip, but even pregnant and not having trained in weeks I'm far stronger than she is.
I hiss quietly right in her ear, "You have no fucking clue who I am, Amber. You have no fucking clue what I've done, what I'm capable of. I'm willing to bet you've never so much as killed a fucking walker, much less a person. I can tell you I've done both. If I were you, I would never open my whore mouth to say another threatening word to me, or my baby. Ever. I will not hesitate to do the world a goddamn favor and rip your fucking throat out. Do. You. Understand?"
She nods her head violently, her face turning red from the force of my hand on her throat. I release her with a jerk. She shrinks back even though she tops me in both height and weight. When she looks me in the eyes, it's the first time anyone's ever looked frightened of me. It disturbs me how good it feels.
"I'm not gonna bother warning you again, but you are being fucking stupid with Mark." The fear in her eyes quickly gives way to anger, but she stays silent. I turn and head for the stairs, the sound of her re-entering the common room playing behind me. I wonder if she's going to tell the women what I just did to her. Only a small part of me gives a damn.
Once upon a time, I would have been frightened of her, put down by her constant bullying and insults. But after the things I have seen and done in this world I have earned the right to not stand for that shit. Threatening me is one thing, but threatening my unborn child, no matter how conflicted I feel regarding the little being, is something I will put an end to immediately.
The adrenaline fades slightly once I step into the muggy, but still fresh air outside. Maybe I should be ashamed of how I just acted. My mom would say I should. She would tell me I was a coward for laying my hands on someone in anger, tell me how disappointed she is. I guess it's to my benefit that she's not here anymore because I don't feel sorry for having done it in the least.
Four days later
A blissful week has passed by with Negan out of the compound. Without his constant presence, it's been nice to just focus on the tasks of each day in the absence of the emotional distraction that he is. That bliss is shattering today, however as I can hear the raucous of the trucks pulling in from a run and the accompanying flurry of movement as Saviors and supplies are being unloaded.
I've spent the better part of the day convincing myself that I'm not keeping my ears sharpened for the sound of Negan's voice, all while doing exactly just that. I'm pathetic.
Every part of my body aches as I move around the infirmary cleaning up and taking stock of the supplies I'd used to treat a particularly nasty burn on one of the kitchen staff this morning. All of a sudden as I'm leaning over the counter, marking down the roll of gauze used today, it feels like a gallon of liquid dumped itself into my bladder at once.
I narrowly miss stepping on Bailey's tail in my rush to get to the bathroom. Unbuttoning my jeans is an incredible relief as the unforgiving fabric constantly digs into my lower abdomen. The swell of the growing child inside me is becoming increasingly unmistakeable each day it seems.
A quick answer to mother nature's call later, I wash my hands and force myself to button the uncomfortably tight pants before stepping back out into the main office. With a start, I realize I'm not alone.
Negan is leaning against the counter, making Bailey's hackles raise with unease that mimics the feeling that washes over me.
"I heard you all come in earlier." It's a stupid thing to say, but it's the best I can come up with considering the note we last left off on. Tension rises in my body, tightening my muscles with the discomfort of uncertainty.
Thankfully he smiles a little at my awkward statement. My eyes roam over his handsome body, taking in the relaxed posture he wears. Apparently I'm alone in my trepidation for this meeting.
"At ease soldier. Consider this an olive branch." His voice is smooth and his eyes soft. His words go a little ways in relaxing me. This isn't part two of a fight, for now at least.
He grabs a brown paper grocery sack off the counter next to him and holds it out to me. "I got you something on the run." I guess he's doing his best to really melt me down, first with that stunning smile beneath the growing beard and now with a present.
I walk over and take the bag from his hands, opening it to find a little bundle of clothing. I unfold the roll to hold up a simple, yet still beautiful blue dress covered in tiny flowers like polka dots and a pair of plain black leggings. The dress is perfect, with an empire waistline and flowy yet not too extravagant amount of soft fabric billowing out from the waist. The right combination of cute and comfort.
"It's perfect… Thank you." Damn these freaking hormones, because I'm getting misty eyed over a stupid maternity dress.
"Like I said. Olive branch." His smile grows larger as he takes in my shiny eyed expression.
"Do you mind if I change into it? These pants are probably leaving an indent in the baby's head as we speak."
"Only if I get to watch." A gleam of mischief glints in his eyes.
"Yeah. You and everyone in the compound," I say, gesturing to the widely opened blinds on the windows. "I'll be right back, just give me a sec." I scuttle back over to the restroom, my new outfit in hand.
A moment later I return to the main room, in a whole new world of comfort. Maybe now the itchy indents in my skin from the waistband of my jeans will finally have a chance to recover.
I can tell Negan is pleased by the way he almost imperceptibly licks his lips and his eyes narrow slightly though still crinkled by a smile. I rest my hand on top of the growing bump, something I barely noticed I'd begun doing out of habit.
"I gotta say. I did fucking good."
"You did. Thank you… again." I chuckle nervously. It felt like the right thing to do but now it just hangs in the air between us as the awkwardness sets in again. So many terrible things we'd flung at each other the last time we spoke, untreated wounds that had been left to fester.
"You know I didn't mean what I said the other night, Rori. It was the wrong fucking word and it just slipped out." I'm thankful that the smoothness in his voice remains in spite of the less than pleasant turn the conversation has taken.
"It might have been the wrong word. I'll give you that, but the message was just the same." I'm proud of myself for keeping a steady voice. I want to make up and move on just as much as anyone would, but I can't just let go of everything that was said.
"That's not true. You caught me off guard with your question. You're not just a fucking piece of property to me, Rori, you know that."
"And yet you couldn't give me an answer then."
"I can now."
I take a seat on one of the medical bays, waiting for him to continue. He walks over and takes my hands in his as he speaks.
"I know it's not fucking fair to you that I can't tell you I love you. I won't ever be able to give you that, and I know it's not fair to you. But that doesn't mean that you aren't my world, woman. Do you think any of those other women would've been with me if a free ride wasn't part of the bargain? And yet you come along and somehow manage to fall for a messed up asshole like me. You wanted to be with me for me. You married me because you wanted me, not because of some fucking business transaction... And now we're gonna have fucking kid together. I would die for you both to keep you safe. I'm a broken motherfucker who can't love you the way I should, but somehow, just the same, you are everything good in my life. That's what you are to me."
I let it sit for a moment, doing my best to fight a losing battle against crying like a fucking baby. Screw hormones.
The battle is lost. A tear squeaks out and makes its way down my cheek as I speak through the lump in my throat. "I'll take it."
Negan throws his head back in a laugh that breaks the tension. "I'm glad my prose get's your approval."
I feel like I can finally breathe easy with the ice having melted between us. I'm not sure why, but I feel like I know what I have to do.
"I have to show you something," I say.
He gives me a questioning look but lets me hop off the bed and scoot past him over to the counter. I open the drawer and pull out the handheld doppler, before resuming my place on the bed.
I separate the hand piece from the main portion and press the power button, flooding the room in quiet white noise. "Hold this."
Negan takes the receiver from me and I lay back on the bed, pulling my new dress up and pushing my leggings down to reveal my lower abdomen.
I press the doppler to my belly, moving it around the small swelling bump until we hear it.
Lubdublubdublubdublubdublubdublubdublubdublubdububdublubdublubdublubdublubdublubdub
Negan's looks down at me in borderline shock. "Is that the?"
"Heartbeat."
"Holy shit balls." His jaw hangs slackened and I laugh a little at his eloquent expression.
"Pretty incredible, right?" I ask him. He still looks astounded like he's hanging onto every little thump in awe.
"Fucking incredible." He shakes his head slightly almost like he can't believe it. I know the feeling. I haven't used the little machine since the first time on my own, but even then when I was pleading with the tiny life inside me to find a way to die I was amazed at how powerful that heartbeat is, how hard our baby is working to create life.
"Do you have any idea how far along you are? Is there a chance that you might lose it still?" There's something deeper in Negan's voice than the anxiety that usually coats our conversations about the baby, a gravely desperation to know if his child will be survive.
"There's no way to know for sure. It's obviously a first pregnancy, so it usually takes longer to show. The fact that my pants are more like sausage casings tells me I'm at least second trimester. In terms of miscarriage I'm out of the danger zone for the most part, but there's always a risk at any point."
"Fuck. That's crazy."
I couldn't have said it better myself.
I pull the doppler off my belly and right my clothes before sitting up. "You know, if everything manages to go alright, we'll have to name the thing."
"Yeah, guess so. Negan junior for fucking sure," he says, handing me the receiver back after turning it off.
"Oh god, no way!" I can't help but laugh at the look on his face. "I've always been creeped out at the idea of naming a kid after yourself. I mean of all the names out there, you can't look any further than your own birth certificate. Plus we don't even know if it's a boy. We could have a little girl."
"Fucking fine. What do you suggest then?"
"For a boy, I've always liked the name Nathaniel."
"Fuck no. I had a douche of a neighbor named Nathaniel. His tree leaves always ended up in my pool."
I giggle at the mental picture of Negan standing red faced over a pool with a net, cursing while he scoops out the leaves.
"Fair enough. You try."
"Hmm." He leans against the counter again as he thinks. "How about Liam."
"Like Neeson?"
"Taken was fucking badass."
"You would like that movie," I laugh. "I do like Liam. It means strong willed warrior."
"Just like his fucking daddy." He beams proudly and it makes me smile at the idea of a tiny Negan running around. Although it's also kind of terrifying to think of a tiny Negan running around.
"Okay, so Liam if it's a boy. And if it's a girl?"
"It won't be. My swimmers are all Y chromosomes!" I roll my eyes at him in spite of the smile still on my face.
"I'm sure. But just in case, how about Ophelia?"
"Like the suicidal chick in Hamlet? Not fucking happening. What about Alexis?" I'm too impressed that he got the Hamlet reference to even be mad he nixed my name.
"Eh, I knew a chick in high school named Alexis, she was a real bitch." I had no idea how true it is that you never realize how many people you dislike until you're trying to name a child.
"Fair enough. Your turn."
"What about Charlotte? Charlotte's web was my favorite book as a kid."
"My mom read me that book when I was little. I'm down. We can call her Charlie so people will think she's a tough little badass."
"With you as her father, I'm sure she will be!" I rest my hands on my belly again, thinking about the growing child inside. Ben's right, there's nothing I can do now besides trying to have hope and do everything I can to have a safe pregnancy. Aside from that it's all in the hands of the gods. I just hope they're a little more fond of the baby than they've shown themselves to be of me.