EPISODE 87 – Hearts Still Beating

"So here's where ya get ya vegetables and shit. Don't bother with the line. Negan's wives and soldiers can cut it; it's not like anyone is gonna say anything anyway."

Joey moves on to show me the rest, but I interrupt him: "Ye mean I can get anything I want from the reserves?"

"Of course ya can!"

That eejit thinks that's 'neat'. But all I can see are the famished-looking people standing in line. He's explained to me the point system, even though I'm not submitted to it since I'm officially a 'wife' now, with my short black dress.

While he keeps blabbering about his tour, I cut the line, as he said, and ask the clerk:

"Would ye give me this loaf of bread, please sir? With that jar of jam there, that'd be grand."

"There it is, ma'am." He hastens to hand me those precious items that I recognise from the Hilltop.

"Cheers, lad." I then turn back to Joey: "A little help? I'm not allowed to carry a knife."

"Sure…"

He prepares a slice of bread and spreads on it what looks more like jelly to me. And when I take it I immediately hand it to a kid standing in line, then give the rest of the loaf and jar to his mother.

"Here, enjoy."

His smile is a bright light lacking a few baby teeth, and, God, I miss my daughter. I'd never been away from her for more than a few days before. Now it's been weeks… But I can't allow my mind to wander there.

"Hey! Ya not supposed to do that!" Joey whines behind me but I shrug it off.

"Why not? Ye came to fetch me this morning saying I was free now. So, why can't I do whatever I want?" I then turn back to the shelves. "Excuse me, sir? Is that a can of fruits in syrup? How expensive is that?"

"Very, ma'am."

"Perfect. Could ye open it for me?"

Now, while I put the can in the middle of a group of kids playing with pebbles on the floor, Joey stutters for a second before retreating into the main building. He's probably gone to ask some advice on how to handle me.

So, I trot over to the nearest door leading outside, where I can finally take a deep breath of air.

Although I find myself surrounded by a fence, behind which walkers seem to be wandering in chains, growling and clacking their teeth. Shuddering at the grim sight, I'm tempted to turn right back inside before I discern a limping figure among them, wearing dirty beige sweatpants.

"Daryl?" The desperate quaver in my voice betrays the sudden fear overtaking me. Would it be possible that he has been turned?

However, his eyes immediately rise to meet mine, and a spark of life still inhabits them. Even though it's barely there.

His face is still swollen with the bruises from the beating he received a few days ago. One of his arms seems painful to raise, and he's limping badly. I didn't think he could look worse than the last time I saw him and my heart breaks in pieces. I run to the fence.

"Are- Are ye okay? What are ye doing in there?"

Though he only shakes his head and quickly lowers his eyes. He's not allowed to talk to me. The walkers trying to reach for me despite their chains are the only ones answering.

I open my mouth to speak again, but there is so much to say that nothing comes out.

That's when the sound of a whistle rings behind me.

I shut my eyes in silent prayer and my jaw clenches.

The whistling turns into a tune. And Daryl winces as if it sufficed to pain him. But of course, I recognise the melody that was blasting from the boom box in the basement. I spin on my feet with my widest hypocritical smile.

"Negan, what brings ye down here?"

"Hi, honey! I've heard my new wife is finally enjoying some liberties, and I came to make sure you got all you can wish for."

"Well, to be completely honest with ye, I'm a little disappointed…" I lower my voice so that Daryl can't hear us. "I thought we had a deal last night…"

"Oh but we do have a deal, love!" his own voice clamours. "Look, I got our friend a new pair of shoes, didn't I?"

I turn back, and Daryl is glancing frenetically between the shoes he's wearing and myself. The questions in his eyes in pure denial.

"I guess I was hoping for…something a little better."

"Like what, darling? You thought one fuck would give him a free pass?" he laughs.

Now I don't turn back to watch the reaction on Daryl's face. I don't want to see it. I focus on being more efficient instead. Ye could hear the gears spinning in my head, trying to define what I could reasonably ask for.

"What about a shower, for example? And by that I don't mean to hose him down," I add pointedly to his man Dwight coming behind him. "I mean a nice and warm one, with soap, and privacy. Even ye don't want his wounds to get infected."

"Well, well, now. If you want me to treat your friend like a prince, darling, you oughta treat me like a king!"

"I thought that was implied…" I utter between gritting teeth.

In two large strides, Negan comes to loom over me, with his trademark smirk. Yet I stand my ground, holding his gaze. He's so fucking tall that I feel like a misbehaving child once again in my life. I'm not used to that height. The twins are barely taller than me; I can reach up to them by rising on my toes. Daryl is just a little bigger, but mostly it's the broadness of his shoulders that make my saints look a bit puny in comparison – although I've seen each of them beat up lads twice as big in the past, so that doesn't make them weaker.

The problem is, neither of them is here right now, and no one has ever frightened me like this man before me.

His hand reaches to my chin to maintain my head up as he leans in to lay a kiss on my pinched lips. Though I flinch away.

"Not here," I assert, instead of 'not in front of him'.

He grabs my neck to keep me in place, his thumb threateningly caressing my throat.

"I thought we had a deal…" he says, mimicking me.

"I don't like an audience." I won't compromise on that.

And he must have read it in my eyes, because he sights and raises his voice so Dwight can hear him: "Go fetch your dog, Dwight-boy, he's in need of a bath."

"A nice one!" I clarify.

Dwight glances at Negan for confirmation, and he gives it with a nod. I sigh in relief. At least I managed to obtain that.

"And Fat Joey! Get the fuck outta here and close the fucking door behind you."

It takes me a second to understand. The building is blind on this side. That means we'll be alone once they all leave… Does he mean to do that out here?

As soon as I think it, he yanks me closer and forces a kiss this time. I don't dare refusing it any more. Even when I glance to the side, my eyes meeting Daryl's as he's taken away. They are wide and scared and he shakes his head frantically. Begging me not to do it or not believing this is happening, I don't know.

I can't care.

I need to focus. This is not about me.


*Warning: Same as before. This is (barely disguised) rape, and it's not going to be pleasant. If you're triggered by that kind of violence or just too sensitive to it, I am sorry, and you can skip to the next chapter when it's up, I'll summarize things there. Otherwise, us masochists can read on. *


But this time, I don't manage to grant the man with any redeeming qualities. When he reaches under my thighs to prop me up against himself, I only despise him. And when he lashes out on my neck, bruising my skin with his lips and teeth, I imagine stabbing him in the back.

"Let's go up to your room…" I offer.

"Nah, we're good here."

My shoulder blades hit the wire fence. His hands tug my dress up, already kneading my ass. I look up to the cloudy sky, trying to picture myself anywhere else. However, I'm promptly brought back by a sinister growling behind me. And something touches my hair.

"What the fuck! Negan, there are walkers right there…"

"I know." He doesn't even lift his head, buried between my breasts. "They're chained, don't worry."

I'm compelled to hold on tighter to his shoulder to try and get away from the open netting. One rotten finger already grazing my back.

"They can reach me…" The fear sips from my word, and I can feel my heartbeat going through the roof as the sound of their teeth seems close enough to bite my ear.

"Your friend Daryl was tasked with ripping off their nails. We'll see if he's a conscientious guy." He chuckles, peering behind me, then pressing me a little more firmly on the fence.

"Fuck!" That arsehole is toying with my life.

"Don't fight too hard. If I let go of you, you could fall back. That fence isn't that sturdy, that's why they're chained."

"Negan, stop! Stop, I'm not playing!"

"Oh, but that's not fair, darling. See, your friend is already in his shower; ya need to hold up your end of the deal."

"Fuck ye!"

"Yeah, that's the whole point…" he laughs again while dead fingers pull my hair back. I gasp but my breath catches in my throat.

Shit, I can't do anything but cling on to him for dear life. One of his hands keeping me up, the other slipping inside my knickers. I grit my teeth in outrage, furious.

But when his fingers reach my cunt, I widen my eyes in astonishment and horror. I smirk is broader than ever.

"Getting off on danger I see? That's what I thought…"

I'm speechless. I can't believe my body would betray me like that. Not one speck of me experiences pleasure. And yet I can't deny that I'm wet down there.

I try to breathe; this can't be true. But then, I hear the clatter of the chains, the growling of the dead, and feel the coldness of lifeless flesh brushing my spine. I shiver. My heart beating so strongly it overpowers everything else. I'm terrified.

And I can't acknowledge that tiny part, darker than night, that feels more alive than ever.

When he enters me, I don't even register it. My whole body is vibrating with terror, and something else. My mind completely blinded to the rest of the world. His speeding motion is just one with the fear. The teeth are so close, I can almost feel them scraping my shoulder. And I wonder what it would feel like. I wonder what it would take for me to embrace the demons that I've always known were hidden inside. I wonder how it would feel not to care about anything at all.

And when I feel the bite, I erupt. A desperate cry comes out of me. I don't even know if that's an orgasm or death. I wrench Negan's hair so hard I make him groan in pain. But that's when I realise he's the one who bit my shoulder. Not the dead behind. And he jerks a few more times before climaxing in turn. Filling me with his cum. Reminding me where I am, who he is, and why this is happening.

When he finally lowers me on solid ground I lurch away from him. While he moans and laughs, leaning on the wire fence to play with the walker's desperate stretch.

"Now that was some good fucking sex!"