Negan had drank for hours, blinding himself in alcohol to numb the sheer pain coursing through him right now. Throwing back glass after glass of hard brown liquor, hoping it would help.

Blinded and almost stumbling into his bathroom, Negan flipped on the light switch, almost wincing against the harsh light as it hit his eyes.

He moved quickly over to the sink, gripping onto edge of the porcelain bowl to steady himself, hanging his head low.

Fuck. He was wasted and even that didn't help but mask any of the hurt flowing through him.

He was a wreck, and despite Blake having only been in his life for a relatively short time in the grand scheme of things, Negan had finally thought that all this could have been a fresh start for him.

He was happy with her. Not looking for a quick stab at happiness that he found at the bottom of a bottle or in a one night stand.

She had been his fucking everything. Just like Lucille had been. And like his dead wife maybe he hadn't known how lucky he had been until she was gone.

Negan stared up at his reflection in the mirror above the sink.

God, he was a fucking mess.

Even in his inebriated state he could see that.

Reaching out, he turned on the faucet and leant down over it, splashing his face with cold water.

But it was only then he noticed how much his hands were shaking. No, not both hands. Just one.

His left hand that, in a fit of flying rage, he had punched the wall with, leaving an ugly crack in the plasterwork, was now red and badly swollen.

Negan winced now, feeling the cold water hit it.

Damn.

And so, using his right hand to splash his face with water again and giving a shake of his head, sending droplets of water flying over the mirror in front of him, Negan turned off the tap and pushed himself from the sink, staggering out of the bathroom once again.

He didn't even remember where he had left Lucille now, but barely caring anymore, the tall, dark-haired man, strode from the room. Eyes unfocused but a scowl lingering over his dark features.

Hi brain was fuzzy and he was having trouble focusing on anything now.

He was pissed off and drunk.

A great fucking combination.

Negan didn't acknowledge anyone as he made his way down the stairs on unsteady feet, clinging onto the railing for support.

It was late now and the Sanctuary certainly wasn't very busy, but even so, Negan was an intimidating figure at the best of times. And of course, the majority of the Sanctuary residents had heard about Blake upping and leaving the way she did. All of them realising that that would certainly not be good news for them.

Before Blake had come along, Negan's regime had been hard and cold. But she had brought and life and a hope to this place, not just with the garden, but by bringing the residents of this dark and gloomy place together. They were a family these days.

But now this family was broken. And even Negan, as drunk as he was, saw the fear in their eyes now, even amongst some of his more loyal of lieutenants as he walked down the stairs, finally reaching a quiet and deserted hallway on the ground floor.

He found the door he was looking for, using the peeling green panelled door frame to steady himself, as he bashed against the hard wood with his good fist.

It was only a moment later that the door was hurriedly tugged open, with Negan leaning backwards on his long legs to look at the person on the other side of the door.

"Doc," he uttered with contempt in his voice, pushing past the strawberry-blonde Doctor Carson, who looked a little harassed at being disturbed at this late hour by the obviously inebriated leader of the Saviours.

"Negan," the man replied in a tired voice, running a hand through his ruffled hair. "What do you want, look it's late and-"

But Negan had already shoved his way arrogantly into the room, moving across the small space on unsteady legs and dropping his heavy form down onto the edge of the bed.

"Need you to fuckin' fix this shit," Negan said, his words coming out slightly slurred as he dropped his hand down onto the silver tray beside him with a loud metallic clatter.

He notice Carson stare at him disapprovingly, before his eyes travelled down to his swollen hand.

Sober Negan would have probably reprimanded the Doctor on this, but now, this drunk, he barely gave a flying fuck about anything.

Carson gave a hard sigh, before wandering over, knowing he didn't have much of a choice. And so, pulling up a chair, he came to perch on the edge of it, sitting directly in front of Negan.

He picked up Negan's hand, as the dark-haired Saviour swore under his breath at the contact.

"You punch a wall or something?" asked Carson without even looking up from his examination.

Negan tutted drunkenly. "Well con-fuckin'-grats , Doc," he huffed out in a simpering voice. "You got it in one."

At this, the doctor arched an eyebrow up at Negan and was silent for a long few seconds, stopping in his work.

"This because of Blake?" he asked in a steady voice.

But Carson's words earned a furious look from the dark-haired Saviour.

Shit, did everyone fucking know how that damn woman had walked the hell over him?

"Well I guess THAT is none of your fuckin' business. So you'd better shut the fuck up and get on with your damn work, before I do to you, what I did to your brother," Negan bit back angrily.

But Carson merely stared the leadr of the Saviours out now, not even a flicker of fear in his eyes, lifting his chin firmly.

"Then who would you get to fix up your hand for you?" he replied in a cool tone.

Negan dug his cheek with his tongue for a long moment, his eyes trying to focus on Carson unsteadily. But he finally let out a short chuckle, pointing at the strawberry-blond man with his good hand.

"Pffft, well you fuckin' got me there," he said appreciating the Doctor's dry attempt at humour as the room fell to silence once more as the Carson continued his examination.

"Well it doesn't look broken," he said after a long while. "Just bruised."

Carson slid his chair on wheels over to the far side of the room, pulling open a small refrigerator and tugging out a large pack of frozen peas.

"Here, just put some ice on it tonight and keep it elevated, and the swelling should go down by morning," he muttered, handing Negan the packet of ice-cold peas.

Negan hissed out as the cold touched his burning skin, but he smirked, pulling himself to his feet as Carson did the same.

"But maybe lay off the booze, for tonight at least…" the doctor added.

But Negan merely shot him a look.

"Thanks for the advice, Doc, but I think I'm good," Negan remarked in return, the ground feeling slightly wobbly now as he stood up straight.

He reached the door, hauling it open with his good hand, when he heard Carson behind him speak again.

"She's just lost a child," said the man starkly, causing Negan to stop in his tracks. "Things like that. They can scar people, stop them from thinking straight."

Negan, with one hand still on the door facing away from the doctor, closed his eyes, a gulp trailing its way down his bearded throat.

But without another word Negan had pulled the door closed behind him, shutting out both the doctor, and his words.

He didn't need advice from someone like him.

For what did he fucking know about anything?

Blake had been getting better. Negan had seen that for himself.

Surely all that shit, losing their kid like that, that had nothing to do with her leaving him? Did it?

But Negan barely had time to ponder this now, as only half way back down the empty and darkened hallway, he spotted a lone figure walking towards him.

Arat.

One his more loyal lieutenants.

This woman had served him well and had more balls than a lot of his men combined.

Then why the fuck did she look different now? Her eyes sad, and her fists balled together.

Negan half expected her to stroll right by him with a reverent nod of her head, like she so often did.

But instead, she came to stop just in front of him now, her head bowed, but her eyes on his.

"Just so you know," Arat said in a low voice. "She's safe. Somewhere away from here…but….she's safe."

Negan stopped suddenly, closing his mouth, his nostrils faring slightly as he focused his gaze on the curly-haired woman before him.

"You went with her?" he asked, feeling his voice shaking slightly as he spoke, his heart pounding away in his chest.

He of course knew who Arat was talking about now. And it broke him that she had really gone fucking through with it and left him. The starkness of that become all too real.

"Well good fucking riddance," Negan snarled, trying to sound now like he didn't care. Like she meant nothing to him.

When really, knowing she was gone, was killing him from the inside out.

And with that, he shoved the curly-haired lieutenant aside with his leather clad shoulder and began to walk away unsteadily.

But he had barely made it even a few feet before he heard her come after him.

And in an instant, Arat was back in front of him again, stopping him in his tracks, looking angry.

He had never seen her like this before.

"You really have no idea do you? What she's going through?" she asked scoldingly, her eyes flashing angrily at him.

Negan swayed back on his legs surveying Arat, a little surprised by this outburst.

He opened his mouth to speak but she got in there first.

"For just one second can you stop acting like the entire world owes you a favour and think of someone else but yourself for once," Arat snapped aggressively. "Blake needed you-"

But Negan felt his own anger rising within him.

Who the fuck did Arat think she was, talking to him like this?

"Well she obviously didn't need me that fuckin' badly," growled Negan cutting over her this time. "Or the damn kid. No. She takes the side of a fucking woman who comes on in here, gun-ho instead."

But Arat merely gave a single cold laugh at this, almost laughing at his stupidity.

"That had nothing to do with anything Negan!" she yelled, her voice filling the quiet corridor. "Blake lost a baby. She's hurting….sick…."

But Negan wrinkled his nose in anger, grimacing and attempting to swipe Arat aside again.

"I ain't listenin' to this shit-" he began, but Arat stood her ground, and before he knew it, there was a sudden click and he focused his chocolate eyes, to see a gun pointed squarely between his eyebrows.

The dark-haired Saviour scowled hard.

No one had ever pointed a gun at him and lived to tell the tale, and Arat knew that full well. So why the fuck was she doing this? Risking everything?

But Arat, to Negan's surprise, looked tearful, her entire face full of frustration and sadness.

"You ARE gonna listen, you stubborn fucking asshole," Arat said, her voice breaking with every syllable she spoke. "Blake is sick. She's going through so much right now that you can't even begin to fucking imagine. Back there, earlier today, that wasn't the Blake you loved. What she's going through, it's called postpartum depression. It sucks. Its fucking brutal as shit. Blake….she's not fucking coping, and just because she didn't have a baby ,doesn't mean she's not going through the same shit that tonnes of women go through after giving birth."

Fuck.

It was as though Arat's words had shaken him sober.

The stark realness of everything feeling like it was collapsing down on top of him now.

He should have figured it out.

Blake was sick, still grieving, and all Negan had done had been to push her further away. Give her nothing but challenges and ultimatums, when all she had needed was time to let herself heal, away from this godforsaken place.

Arat stopped now, tears sliding down her cheeks, something Negan would have never thought he'd see from this usually badass woman, not in a million years.

"She's lost…but that doesn't mean she loves you or Mia any less… you just need to give her some time and she'll find her way back to you, Negan. She will." finished the curly-haired woman, suddenly dropping the arm that was holding the gun and hanging her head, as if resigning herself to her fate now.

Knowing what was coming.

But it never did.

Negan just hovered for a long, long moment, his eyes boring into the top of Arat's skull.

What the fuck had he done?

But feeling utterly without hope now and regretting his actions more than ever, Negan gave a gulp, lifting his eyes to the damp ceiling above his head.

"I shoulda' stopped her…" he said in a quiet and strained voice, squeezing his eyes shut to stop any tears from forming there. "I shouldn't've let her go…"

But he almost heard Arat look up at him now, shaking her head.

"No, Negan, dude, don't you see," she said in a voice, far softer than before. "She needs time…time to heal. You had to let her go. But that doesn't have to mean she's gone for fucking good."

The curly-haired woman tilted her head, licking at her lips gently, as Negan lowered his chin to gaze at her.

"Listen…" Arat said taking a deep breath. "Blake…..s-she's got a radio…...just…just give her time, a few days maybe...let her figure this shit out on her own. You know she's a badass. She can take care of herself out there. So let her come back to you when shes ready.."

Negan stared at her for a long few second before nodding, running a hand down his bearded china and dropping eyes to the floor.

Arat was right.

And he should have seen it before….he should have known Blake wasn't over that shit.

Hell, he knew how much he had been affected by everything, but her….fuck, she'd felt their baby growing inside of her.

Jesus. What the fuck had he done? He'd been cowardly. Put himself first when really he should've seen the fucking signs. Trusted Blake.

Shit.

He was too drunk for this now. And he hoped that in the morning, this remorse and regret and love for her would still be there. Where it should be.

And as proud and as strong as he was, despite how much he wanted to thank her, Negan merely shoved by Arat, head turned down towards the concrete floor, leaving his loyal lieutenant standing there alone…

….hoping of course that she had gotten through to him now.

For Blake's sake….and for his own.

Thanks to Elizabeth, CLTex, BlueBloodsSVUOrder, LJH, Daryl's Lady, angel's voice and stacey40 for reviewing.

Have a lovely weekend everyone.