Conquistadors

"I'm still pissed at you," Turtle mumbled, feeling Negan's breath against her throat, his lips covering her pulse as lay next to her, one forearm braced against her head. He peered down at her, grinned, before ducking and pressing kisses against her jawline. "You aren't getting shit from me."

"Aw, fuck. You didn't miss me?"

"It was really quiet, for once," Turtle fought to keep from smiling. Negan kissed her once more, tugging at her lower lip with his teeth. The hair on his face scratched at her skin, and Turtle sighed. "Also, you need to shave."

"I know."

Turtle ran a hand across his bare chest, fingers tracing patterns against his skin. Maggie and Glenn had retired for the night, which left Negan and Turtle on the couch downstairs, the only glow coming from the two lanterns mounted on the coffee table before them. Negan had spent most of the day at Harlan's, almost avoiding Turtle, allowing her to instigate the affection.

That wasn't at all normal. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was caution as the baby inside her grew to its fullest.

"Yes, I'm pissed. But I'm glad you're safe. You owe it to Jesus and Glenn."

"Don't fuckin' remind me. I'm embarrassed," Negan rolled his eyes. "That Asian kid wouldn't shut the fuck up-"

"His name is Glenn, and he's asleep upstairs," Turtle snapped. "And you deserved it, probably. With how much you talk?"

Negan's lips covered her once more as he slid up closer, nuzzling into her cheek. Turtle couldn't help but laugh as his facial hair tickled her nose. She returned his kisses with hunger, moaning at his soft touches and squeezes.

"I wasn't gonna fuckin' die, dollface," Negan whispered.

"You came back with a knife wound, and you expect me to believe that?" Turtle raised her eyebrows. "Could have, would have. Did you even think about me or this baby-"

"I did. I did, and I made a choice. A fucking stupid choice. But I felt like I had to, I needed to."

"For her?"

"For us. I feel safer, now. I haven't the past six months."

"Safe, because she's with you? We're behind walls, Negan. We have a competent leader, food, water, medicine. We have two other communities on our side. We're safer than we ever have been."

"Don't be naive."

"I know what danger is," Turtle lifted her bum arm. "If I feel safe, you should feel safe, somewhat."
"But I don't. I didn't."

Turtle nodded. She let him rest his forehead against hers. She sucked in a breath, taking in his closeness.

"I'm worried about you. I love you, and I can't lose you."

"You won't lose me."

"I feel like I am. Slowly."

Negan stroked her hair gingerly, his movements shaky. "Fuck…fucking fuck," he squeezed his eyes shut. "I know I fucked up. I know what I did was fucking stupid, but I couldn't fucking help it. I felt like I'd go insane if I didn't go after her-"

"Do you really feel safer, Negan, or are you just saying that? Do you feel like someone is behind you, during the day, even if no one is there? Do you feel his hands on you-"

"Stop. Fucking stop," Negan growled, the sound low in his chest.

"I still feel those men touching me."

"Tessa," Negan whined. He allowed Turtle to wrap her arms around him, lips pressing gently against his forehead.

"You don't have to forget it or push it away, or move past it. You have to…accept it, almost. And I'm one to talk, because it still sometimes feels like I just can't…but you helped me. You let me in."

"I should have done that shit sooner."

"Letting people in is dangerous," Turtle whispered against his skin. "It always has been. You were - and you still are - afraid. And that's alright."

Negan sighed. Lucille was up in their room, back to her rightful place leaning against the wall on Negan's side of the bed. A part of Turtle wanted that weapon smashed, destroyed.

It meant something to him. Something profound. Turtle tried not to let her emotions get ahead of that fact.

"If you ever want to talk," Turtle murmured. "Tell me. I'm not going to force you. Just…remember how much I love you. How much this baby is going to love you."

Negan placed a hand against her stomach. Almost as if on cue, the child moved, little feet straining against Turtle's belly and making brief contact with Negan's splayed palm.

When Turtle glanced down, Negan was grinning. And it was raw and real and wonderful.

"Gregory has to be killed," Maggie said solemnly. She'd assembled a quick council with Jesus, Glenn, Turtle and Negan. Hershel was asleep on a blanket, so they kept their voices low.

"Fucking finally," Negan huffed. "Should have let me done that ages ago. I've been after that prick since day fucking one."

"He tried to poison me."

Turtle perked up immediately, nearly leaping to her feet. "When was this?"

"About two months ago. Glenn and I didn't tell anyone - I saw Gregory pour in the liquid. I had to make an excuse that I was allergic to basil."

"Is that why you made him move from the house? He used to be in our room," Turtle said. "That bastard."

"Murdering a pregnant woman….that's fucking low," Negan growled.

"You threatened to do it, once," Glenn murmured.

"Hey, I didn't fucking know she was knocked up then. I thought she just had the fucking flu or whatever," Negan rolled his eyes. "You are so goddamn sensitive."

Before Glenn could retort, Turtle said, "After that stint he pulled a few nights ago…I don't know. Does he have followers, or are people just angry?"

"Both, probably," Jesus said. "Maggie, I don't like this-"

"Hang on," Negan interrupted. "Miss Dorothy here is onto something. Holy shit, she's a genius! Murder the asshole who tried to murder me - an original plan if I've ever fucking heard one. But, here's the question - then what? Are these people gonna shove a box of fireworks up our dickholes and blow us into outer space, or are they going to bend over and let us fuck them?"

"Sometimes I wish my vernacular was as articulate as yours," Jesus said dryly, shooting Negan the side-eye. "By 'bend over and let us fuck them' you mean submit, right?"

"Absolutely. Sometimes it's literal but it depends on the setting."

"These people, the members of this community…will they stand for that? Even the people on your side-"

"They don't have to know."

"Not a good pitch. That translates into 'they'll definitely find the fuck out in about three weeks.'" Negan rolled his eyes.

"Glenn?" Turtle spoke towards the man, who was staring at his child, asleep on the blankets. He almost hesitated to answer.

"We can make it work."

Turtle pinched the bridge of her nose. Absently, she stroked her stomach. Maggie watched, lips pursed. On the blanket, Hershel stirred, but fell silent.

"We'll follow your lead, Maggie. You're in charge," Turtle said softly. Jesus sighed, but nodded in agreement.

"Good. Good," Maggie let out a breath. "I'll do it myself. Nobody else needs to get dragged into this."

"I'll help," Turtle murmured. "You shouldn't have to do it alone."

"Tessa-,"

"No, Negan," Turtle stopped her partner before he could intervene. "This is my decision. Maggie shouldn't have to carry this alone. Mother to, well, soon-to-be mother," Turtle glanced down at a sleeping Hershel and smiled. "I owe it to her."

"Fuck," Negan grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So how are you doing this?"

Maggie smiled. It wasn't a happy smile.

"I have some ideas."