NAYNA

Nayna's hands trembled for no reason. She watched them, fascinated as she tried and failed to hold them steady. She had to squint to see them in the fading light. Half her windows were boarded up from the attack on the Sanctuary last week. It made things like seeing a tad difficult. And it made her depression and urge to sleep even worse.

He came down the hall announcing his presence with a whistling tune. Nayna curled on her side and pulled the blankets over her head. She'd been in isolation for over a week with only Negan and sometimes Carson for company. The other wives didn't even visit her. Dwight didn't visit her. And Gus...He was dead. She forgot sometimes. Until she talked to Carson. And then she remembered.

It was getting harder and harder for her to piece things together. The days seemed to go backwards and forwards and she lost big stretches of time. Sometimes she was coherent enough to read and scribble in her diary. Sometimes she even felt normal. And then sometimes she felt dreamlike and floaty.

Carson often talked to her like a child, which only served to irritate her. She wasn't a child, she wasn't stupid. She knew she was slipping and she knew there was nothing anyone, but Negan himself could do. And he refused to let her out.

She knew why. Because he didn't want to let her go. If only he trusted her, he'd see she would stay because she loved him. Because she was a fool. He loved her in his own sick, twisted way and she loved him back the same. He caged her because he was afraid.

Nayna thought she finally got to the bottom of Negan. That is when she could think. Under it all he was an insecure man who put on big pants every morning to hide that fact. Either he was a man who cared too much in the previous world or like the rest of them, he'd lost everything and it hit him harder than expected. And now by keeping everyone at arms length, he'd never have to experience that loss. But he didn't expect to find her. He didn't foresee her slipping into his heart. But she had and now he did the only thing he knew how. He held on as tightly as he could to ensure he didn't lose her. It was all very understandable to her. If he would only stop shutting her out. But then, she'd have to stop shutting him out. All she wanted to do was reach into his heart and pull out the man she knew was in there.

But if she had to pull it out, did it mean she loved a lie? Did she love someone who wasn't there? He was cruel and demanding and cold. Could he love? Did he love her? A single tear slipped down her nose and she hurriedly wiped it away.

She felt herself sliding away and she fought to keep herself strong, to keep herself there all the way. He was coming to see her and she didn't want to miss out. But she wanted him to go away. No, she didn't know what she truly wanted.

The door creaked open and his heavy boots thumped into the room. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he would go away. But the door shut with a snap and the thudding of his steps came closer and closer to her bed until he sat down on the edge, next to her hip.

He snorted and she heard him scrape something off the floor. Then she heard paper rattling and she realized he had picked up her copy of Gone With the Wind. He sighed and skimmed through it. In her mind she could see him shaking his head at the puddle of romantic shit that she used to entertain herself with. Even though she'd read it a handful of times since she'd gotten to the Sanctuary, every reading told her something different.

He grunted as he bent over to remove his boots. Great, he'd want to spend the night. She crunched the pillowcase in her hand as she tired not to move. He stood and she heard his jacket being unzipped and then tossed into the chair, along with his belt.

Instead of sitting down again, he tugged the other end of the blanket and slipped his legs underneath. He shifted until he trapped her securely between his warm body and the cool surface of the wall. She shivered as his breath puffed against the nape of her neck.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her head and inhaled deeply. Her heart fluttered at the gesture and she felt confused.

The silence between them grew louder as he realized she was awake. But he said nothing, he did nothing aside from planting his hand on the upward curve of her hip. It was hard for her to keep her breaths even instead of ragged and jittery. She was just about to doze off when he shook her, gently but firmly.

"Doll...I know you're fucking awake. Stop fucking hiding."

She sighed and looked over her shoulder at him. "What?"

"I'm looking for that fucking lively girl I fell for, dammit."

She wanted to tell him he killed her. But she couldn't. She couldn't be so cruel. Besides, who knew if it had been he to stomp her out or if she'd done than on her own by rolling over and accepting demand after demand from him.

Nayna turned back to the wall and lay her head on her hands. "I just want to sleep."

The ire in his voice was clear as a bell when he spoke, a little resentfully. "You always just want to fucking sleep. It's all you ever fucking do."

"I'm lonely and there isn't anything else to do."

He didn't respond, but she heard and felt him sigh against her skin. His hand squeezed her hip until it hurt. She almost cried out in pain, but she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Negan wasn't necessarily looking to hurt her as much as make her look at him. But she wouldn't.

"I fucking can't just let you the fuck out."

"You don't trust me."

"Yes and no. I don't fucking trust my men either. I don't trust someone not to take you out of here and offer you up to fucking Rick to use against me."

"Rick wouldn't do that."

"You're so fucking sure."

She sighed and rolled over to face him. He had propped himself up on one elbow and he looked down at her with a frown. But he was deep in thought, not really seeing her face. She lay her cheek on her folded arm and put her other hand on his shirt.

"I am. Because it's not Rick's style. He would never, ever do something like that. It has nothing to do with me."

His brow furrowed further down his face to form into a scowl. She reached up and tried to smooth the lines from his face.

"Don't you fucking see, doll? I'm trying to ensure our survival. It's a dog eat dog world out the fuck there."

She cupped his face and rubbed her thumb over the stubble of his cheek. "It doesn't have to be."

Negan closed his eyes as if he were trying to regain his temper. "The fuck it doesn't."

Nayna closed her eyes, searching for the words. It's as if they wouldn't stick in her brain. It took her several attempts, starting and finishing. Negan looked at her as if she were crazy. A sigh escaped her lips, blowing her bangs off her forehead. She still held his face in her palm.

After several deep breaths she tried again. "Don't you think that's what Rick is trying to do? Ensure the survival of his people? People who were my people until—no people who are still my people. You have to see this from his pers—"

"—goddammit, no! For fucks sake, Meghan."

She let her hand drop from his cheek. "I'm only trying to make you see Rick's side."

His face was sullen. "Because you still love him."

She bit her lips to hide her smile. "You have no reason to be jealous, love. There is no one else for me but you."

"Bullshit."

"Rick will always have a place in my heart. But you complete my heart. Even though you're a narcissistic megalomaniac with the tendency to be overly attached to your fucking baseball bat."

His eyes narrowed, but she simply leaned forward, putting her forehead against his beating heart. She was tired. So tired. All she wanted to do was sleep. But he would probably want to fuck her. And she needed it. Not just wanted it. But she needed him inside of her. Needed him to thrust her insecurities away, to push away her tiredness, to maybe bring her back from the brink of it all.

He tangled his hand in her hair and gently tugged her so she was looking up at him. Once again he searched her face for something. Whatever it was, he must have found it for he bent down and caught her lips with his.

His right knee nudged her and she flipped on her back obediently. He climbed on top of her, laying so her body was crushed underneath him. But Nayna never minded. It gave her a certain sense of security and warmth.

That night Negan was gentle, yet firm. Every move of his was precisely calculated and yet as sweet as their first time had been. She moaned under the guidance of his big hands, his wet tongue, the rasp of his stubble on her sensitive skin.

And in turn he groaned in her ear as she squeezed and released him, stroked him, took him in her mouth. In turn she made him whimper and cry out her name. For once he was the first to come. And she smiled in triumph at the slumbering man beside her.

Nayna lay her head on his shoulder and swirled her fingers through his chest hair.

He left the next morning giving her a kiss to the forehead. "I'll be back soon, doll."

She barely looked up from her breakfast. Oatmeal. Again. "Okay, love."

He snapped the door shut, leaving her to her own devices for the rest of the day. Which mainly included re-reading the siege of Atlanta for the thousandth time, her slipping away to stare at the wall for hours until she finally faded off into sleep.

The feeling that something wasn't right made her spring up in bed before she was even fully awake. She squinted, but it was dark aside from the light shining underneath the doorjamb. Beyond the door she heard the mumbling of voices coming closer and closer.

"If we don't do this now, we won't have a chance later," the first voice said.

"He'd kill us if he knew," the second voice whispered.

"He'd kill us anyway. Do you want to keep living like this, Carson? In fear? In panic?" the first voice asked.

"No, Dwight. I don't. You're right. Here," Carson muttered.

"That's what I thought," Dwight said.

Nayna was still squinting at the door trying to make sense of what Carson and Dwight were talking about. By then they were standing right outside her door.

Her first coherent thought was of Negan. But he wasn't there. Were they here to kill him? Or her?

She swallowed down her panic and flipped off the covers as the door rattled.

"The key sometimes sticks," Carson said.

"No fucking shit."

Her head darted from side to side. But there was nary a weapon to be found. Oh she could use her fists. Take down Carson for sure. But Dwight had been a soldier. And she was out of practice. Her last fight, the one with Negan, she'd be far out of practice then too. And Negan wasn't expecting her to fight back. Dwight would.

"Let me," a third, yet familiar voice said.

The book! She stumbled to the chair and picked up Gone With the Wind. It was over a thousand pages. If she hit Dwight hard enough in the face, maybe she could take him down.

The door popped open and Nayna swung the book with all her might. It caught the man square in the face. She lifted it again about to jerk it down when she realized she'd hit neither Dwight nor Carson. But Eugene.

She gasped and dropped the book on the floor. "Oh shit!"

Eugene rose to his feet, cupping his nose and glared at her.

She pawed at him, getting blood on her pink nightgown. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Eugene waved her off. "You are making me highly uncomfortable. Please dress yourself."

Nayna looked over to Carson whose eyebrows were raised into his hairline and to Dwight who was shaking his head.

"Are you sure about this?" Carson hissed.

"Yeah. We're all on the same fucking side."

Nayna looked between the three men. "What's going on?"

"Get dressed, Nayna. We're springing you and Eugene free."

"Why is Eugene here?"

Dwight rubbed a hand over his face. "Fuck, you didn't know?"

"Kinda hard to know when I've been locked in here for six days straight."

Dwight nodded. "Everyone has moved to Hilltop. We're taking you with us."

Her stomach sank. "Why?"

"Trust me."

She shook her head. "You're not using me against Negan."

Dwight sighed. "You may be the only one who can stop this war, Nayna."

But Eugene was shaking his head.

She sat down on the bed and pressed her trembling hand to her forehead. She was shaking again. The thought almost made her laugh. Almost. It was all too absurd. It was all too much for her. The thoughts twisted and turned and spun so fast in her head she begun to feel faint and dizzy. Even after she closed her eyes the dizziness persisted. Her already sloppy belly rumbled and she fought to keep her dinner down.

Just stop, she commanded herself. She had to think. Had to piece it all together. She couldn't afford to break down. Not right then. She had to keep a grip on reality. Had to drag herself from the dreamworld she so longed to lose herself to.

Dwight wouldn't hurt her. But then again neither would Negan. Neither would Rick. And they all had hurt her. She didn't know whether or not to trust Eugene either.

"Eugene says you're still working with Rick," Dwight said.

The laughter she'd held back burst forth. "Oh yes, I absolutely am working with Rick. Sure thing!"

"You're not?"

She looked up at a confused Dwight. "Not particularly."

Eugene stepped forward deeper into the darkness where she couldn't quite judge his shadowed face. "You and Rick didn't plan this whole thing?"

She stared at Eugene open mouthed. "No, we fucking didn't. Rick hasn't let me plan anything for months now. Rick doesn't trust me...No one trusts me."

Dwight reached in his pocket for his eye drops. "We're choosing to trust you right now Nayna. Trusting you to do the right thing."

She let out a long breath of air. And she laughed and laughed, burying her face in her hands. This couldn't possibly be happening. She and Dwight wanted the same thing: peace. But they wanted it in different ways. They were at cross purposes. She didn't know if she could kill him to save Negan.

They wanted Negan dead. All of them. She just wanted him alive. She wanted so many things. Like to get back in bed and stare at the wall.

Her laughter turned into coughing sobs as she leaned her elbows on her thighs. It was Dwight who sat next to her and rubbed her back. After her sobs wore out she sat up smearing the snot from her face. She couldn't let them use her against Negan. She wouldn't. Negan may have been wrong, so, so very wrong, but that didn't mean she would let them kill Negan. She had to protect him.

She looked between the three men and furrowed her brow. "I'll go with you. But I do this my war. I end the war on my terms. All of this started on my terms and it'll end that way."

Eugene regarded her carefully. "I will be honest, Nayna. I do not know whether I should be trusting you at this particular moment in time. Whether your allegiance lays with Alexandria or Negan, you do not seem to be in the right mental capacity to make such decisions."

Nayna smiled wryly. "You think so? Well I'd be inclined to agree with you, Eugene. Unfortunately, now is not quite the time for me to lose my mind. I think I'll save that for when this shit is done with."

"Fair enough."

Dwight put his arm about her shoulders. "You're coming, then?"

"Yeah, I'm fucking coming."