EPISODE 89 – Rock in the Road

I get my own room.

I get more privileges than anyone here except for Negan himself.

Everyone learns pretty fast that even looking at me weird, or not leaving me enough room to walk through in a hallway, can provoke the boss's wrath. And every single person here avoids me as if I could be their demise. With a mix of dread and scorn. Because if Negan only suspects that I am not being treated with the highest regards, no one can predict the scale of his disproportionate reaction.

He sends his men to get me more comfortable clothes; I get vitamins and complements. I also get more food than I could ever eat, of better quality than ever in my life, even before.

So, indeed, month after month, the little bean grows. It starts showing too soon, but no one seems to mind. It starts kicking too soon, but Negan is so elated that no one questions it. I can't prevent him from putting his hand on my stomach at every turn and from whispering to it sweet words that make my blood curdle. As if he was already bewitching that baby to make it his own, a future little heir or heiress to his throne. Although that feeling I need to bury deep, deep down.

However, when it comes to Negan's own behaviour, his attitude towards me has not only turned into excessive protectiveness; strangely, he also seems to have got a bit on the defensive. That is because of the power I have gained over him. Though I need to tread very carefully about it. Because that wariness could easily turn into distrust. And then there is no telling what he would do to me.

Already, behind the apparent benefits, I've got less freedom than the other women. I get escorted everywhere the second I step out of my room. Every single one of my movements is reported to Negan. Where I went, what I did, what I ate, what I said. It is suffocating.

But I manage. I don't have a choice.

I am constantly walking the fine line between what I can demand and what would be 'pushing it'.

However, this morning, when I catch a glimpse of Daryl from afar in the courtyard, and I notice a busted lip and a fresh black eye darkening his features, I know I need to go and confront Negan about it. No matter my own fright, the little influence I got, I need to put it to good use. It's the least I can do.

Since I revealed the pregnancy, I succeeded in securing a little more 'comfort' for Daryl. I'm pretty sure I obtained a better room for him, with an actual bed and access to a bathroom regularly. At least, that's what I've been told. He does look better, more rested, cleaner. Although I'm not allowed to talk to him; he's not even allowed to look at me.

And he never talks. Not to me, of course, but I don't think to anyone else either. He looks completely shut down.

He's right there, but he seems so far away.

He's now wearing normal clothing, and he gets to go out of here from time to time. Of course, I suspect Negan would have put him to work eventually. If only to parade him in front of Rick and the others at Alexandria. But I like to think I managed to make up, at least a little bit, for the beatings he received because of me.

Though I can't be sure.

"Hello, darling, what can I do for ya?" Negan's unctuous tone makes me cringe when I enter the room.

The loft area is where he spends most of his time when he's here. It's got large sofas and big windows. It could almost be nice if it wasn't coated in the rust that seems to be taking over everything in this Godforsaken factory.

"Hi, Negan. Em… I was just wondering what could possibly warrant Daryl getting beaten up again. What the fuck did I do now?"

He bursts out in his eternal laugh. "Not everything revolves around you, my dear! It's only that my little dog still doesn't know his place."

I cannot believe Daryl would do anything rash in the position we're in.

"What did he do then?"

"He's tough, I gotta admit that… Even after all this time, even after he's seen you," he points at my belly and that makes me shiver; I can't fathom what Daryl must be thinking of this, "and understood how much you belong to me now, even now, he still: Just. Won't. Kneel!"

At that, I ought to swallow a smile as quickly as it stirs. He's not stooping so low. My Daryl is not broken.

Better yet, even though he must be disgusted at believing I'm pregnant with Negan's baby, he must have concluded that I am safe. And that gives him just a little more leeway to breathe. He doesn't have to kneel to make sure I'm treated well. When the cowards chant 'I am Negan', he can remain quiet.

"Ye've always known he's not a sheep, Negan. That's why ye've kept him, isn't it? That's what ye like about him, so, why punish him for it?"

"You're right! Fuck, if only he gave in, he could become my first lieutenant. But he's too fucking stubborn!"

This time I cannot stop a little proud grin breaking at his words. Ye have no idea…

I quickly lose it, as soon as Negan turns to watch me, though. And he adds:

"Although I must say, it was a blast to watch him crumble when he figured out you were carrying my child… I mean I knew he had a little crush on ya – of course he did – but I think he might actually have been in love with ya! I mean, puppy love, the 'she-can-do-nothing-wrong' kinda love that just completely collapsed under my eyes! That's fucking hilar-"

The slap went off before I could even think to stop it. Though my hand hasn't reached his cheek that I already know this was a bad fucking idea. I just couldn't repress it.

After the sound of the clap resounds in the empty room, he falls completely silent. And cold. In an instant. But I know him well enough by now, to spot the fire of fury in his dark pupils.

A wave of terror washes over me, from head to toes. Making me stagger on my feet.

Because, if he can't kill me, he can hurt me in ways I probably can't even imagine. And now, I've made sure he will.

He opens his mouth, and I know his next words are going to be fatal.

However, that's when Simon decides to come in.

"Negan! Ya not gonna believe what happened!"

"NOT NOW!" he roars in response, so the fearless and always smirking Simon flinches away:

"I'm sorry, boss… I'll go. But it's kinda urgent…"

Negan peers at me a little longer. He's watching my panic taking over with a somewhat growing glee. Thus, he decides to leave me drowning in it for now.

"Alright, Simon! Come on in. What the fuck happened?"

"Huh… Okay. One of our outposts got raided. First one in a while."

Negan's eyes shoot back to me with yet another flash of anger. We're both thinking the same things: Have my Saints finally started to counterattack?

"Who?" he only asks without looking away from me.

"Apparently, a group of strangers from up North or something like that. We've got one survivor that just got here, if ya want to ask him. Liam something, I don't know him well. But as a matter of fact, he's Irish too," he ends up adding, glaring at me with his everlasting hatred – from that time I kicked him in the balls, the first time we met.

I'm so taken up in my own dread that I don't really register what he's saying. But, even if I did, what would be the odds?

"Okay, send the little fucker in. Let's hear what he's got to say."

Simon yells something outside the door, and I take it as my cue to leave. I'm trying as much as I can to make myself forgettable right now. Negan seems to have decided his revenge could wait. I'm not sure I should rejoice at that; if he took time to think about it, it could be even worse.

Although, as I reach for the door, the talked-about 'Liam' walks in. I almost bump into his chest. And before I even break my neck to glimpse at his face, I know. Maybe I recognised his massive frame, maybe it was the familiar smell of my childhood, or maybe I just perceived the way my brother's body tensed in my presence.

"Liam…"

"Aideen? Fuck me…"