Chapter 4:
[Emily POV]
Once we're at the infirmary, I'm set down on a bench with paper over it. I glance around. There were pictures of skeletons and stuff on the walls. Jar of fluffy white things on the counter. Yep it was just like the doctors when my mother would take me when I was a kid. Except there were no lollipops. I wondered if I would get one later- no there are far more important things than that right now.
The man who calls himself Negan stands in the room, by my side. He's so tall it's scary. And he's making me rather nervous. I bite my lower lip and look down at my feet as I swing them off the edge of the bench I'm on. This was all so new and scary. I couldn't stop myself from shaking as we waited on the doctor to show up. Finally the door opens and a shorter man walks in.
"Carson, where the fuck were you? What took you so Goddamn long?" Negan asks impatiently and the Doctor looks terrified of him as he apologizes. Should I be just as scared of my savior as well, I wondered.
The doctor greets me. And I just look at him blankly not too sure how to respond. He glances down at my blood covered shirt sticking to my body. He gently approaches me and tries to take my shirt off and I whine. I raise my shaky hand and swatt his away. Tears welling up in my eyes.
"P...please don't…" I beg scooting further away on the bench from the two of the men in the room. I thought they would be different than him. But maybe they just want the same thing from me. Maybe this is just how the world is.
"Miss...I have to see under your shirt so.I can see how badly the wound is...may I?" He asks and I hesitate and look over at Negan and he nods at me.
"Come on doll, it'll be fine. I won't let him or anyone hurt you. Just let the Doc here help you." He says and I nod. Doctor Carson tells me to lay down on the paper on the bench and I do. I hyperventilate a bit when he begins to cut my shirt off. It's okay. They just wanna help me. I had to remind myself. And It's not like I haven't gone shirtless before.
When the shirt is pulled away from me, I'm left feeling exposed. The doctor puts pressure on my wound, I wince and let out a whine.
"Severe bruising, possibly fractured rib. Could use some stitches just to be on the safe side." He says and Negan nods.
"Well doc, patch her up." I hear his scratchy voice say and the doctor put a cold cloth to my wound cleaning up the blood. I whine every time he touches me. It hurt so much. But I understand now that he's only trying to help.
"Alright, that's the last one." The doctor says as he sets his tools down, then looks over at me, then to Negan before he speaks again.
"You might be in pain for some time, due to the bruising on the ribs- If you uh, if you've got any points at all, I'd suggest using them now-"
"She doesn't have any, just give her the meds." Negan interrupts and I just look down at my hands. I don't know what this points business is, but was it bad that I didn't have any, whatever it was? I glanced up as I watched the doctor scramble to his cupboard to unlock it. I cleared my throat and looked over at Negan.
"I don't think I really need medicine, do I?" I ask looking up at him and he looks down at me as though I've said something absolutely nuts.
"With your injuries? Hell yeah you do, it probably hurts like a mother fucker." He says and I shrug in response. It did hurt a bit, but I've had worse.
"It's not so bad." I tell him and he gets this pained look on his face now, like I betrayed him some how, maybe I just shouldn't talk.
After the doctor hands a bottle of pills over to Negan, my savior then puts his heavy leather jacket around me and carries me around and up some stairs. I clutch to him in case he decides to drop me, but he doesn't.
He takes me to a room then sets me on a mattress that was like, a million times bigger than any I've ever seen. And once I'm on it, I feel myself dip in, and I feel like I'm on a cloud. If it weren't for the pain in my rib cage, I would have thought I had died and gone to heaven. I was on a cloud after all.
Negan walks out of the room, and I look around. Not daring to speak or move from where he set me. I was much too scared of the consequences.
When he came back, he had a glass of water, a pill, and some boxer shorts and a large white t shirt. He sets those on my lap.
"Here ya are, doll." He says and I stay still and just look down at them on my lap, not making any quick moves.
Negan raises an eyebrow at me. "You can put those on now, doll. Those are for you." I nod quietly then slip his leather jacket off and set it on the bed. I clear my throat lightly.
"T...thank you." I say and slip the T shirt on. He turns away from me, as though I put on some sort of shameful display, when I was only doing what he asked of me. Though, I appreciated it nonetheless, he didn't look at me with eyes like he did.
Once I have the clothes on, I stand there quietly. Negan turns to peak at me. Then gestures to the bed, for me to sit, and I do. He hands me the glass of water, and pill, and I swallow it and sip the water he gives me. Then I bring my feet up to my chest and hug them to me when he takes the empty glass away. He grabs a chair and drags it against the floor and puts it in front of me. Then he sits down on it, even though there was plenty of bed on his giant bed.
"Now. Normally I'd be out there with my guys, getting first pick on what I want from your old man's inventory we took, but uh, I didn't really want to leave you alone after that shit show you lived through." I raised an eyebrow at him wondering what he meant, and he sighs.
"You don't talk much, do you?" he asks and I shake my head at him. "That's alright. I like talking. But I got a hell of a lot of questions for you, Missy." He says and I just watch him with my grey eyes, waiting for his questions, wondering what happens next.
"And I expect you to answer them." He says and I nod at him which earns me a grin from him, then he begins to ask them.
"First of all...how long did he have you chained up down there like that?" He asks and I clear my throat again. I wasn't use to so much talking.
"I'm not sure." I say and watch as he scratches the back of his head.
"Well, where were you when the world went to shit?" He asks and I look down at my hands. Counting was of no use. I was taken when the walkers were released into the world. But I had no way to keep track of time since then. I had guessed several years, but I wasn't sure just how many.
"I was there since before the dead…" I say then look up at him. "Is the world as dead as he told me? He said we were the only ones…" I trail off my question, just dying to know, then my eyes widen. I spoke without being spoken to that time. "I...I'm sorry." I say and look down. Negan's gentle eyes look at me as he speaks.
"No need to be sorry. We're just fuckin' chatting here. Nothing wrong with talking, sweet heart." he explains leaning back into his chair, relaxing, then pausing as realization slowly forms over his face.
"How the fuck old are you?" He asks and I shrug looking down. "How many years has it been since the world- since the undead?" I ask looking up at him. I wasn't always good at math, but I could count at least. I had no way of keeping track of time in that barn horse stall, though, I just know that it felt like forever.
Negan sighs. "About ten years. or so." He says and I look up at him puzzled. Had it really been that many years? If just the outbreak was ten years...wow. I paused for a bit, then I looked down at my hands trying to do the math.
[Negan's POV]
I watch her put up ten fingers. Then just two, and she pauses. She adds three more fingers then stares at the five, then looks up at me, as if to ask for help, but then adds four more. "How many years again?" She asks furrowing her eyebrows.
"Ten." I reply, trying to keep calm. As she looks at her hands then puts down a finger Then puts them all down. She puts up ten, then none, then ten again, which must mean twenty.
"I uh...I'm not really sure...I'm not t...that good at math..." She replies and I just at her. She did look rather young. But I wasn't sure how young.
"So you were like twelve, ten? When the walkers took over?" I ask and she pauses then nods with a shrug that tells me nothing.
"I'm pretty sure I was somewhere that age when..." She replied and I raised my eyebrows, then it clicked she was kidnapped as a fucking child. ten fucking years old. Possibly older or younger, but a kid no less. God knows what that sick fuck did to her all these years. I look over at her, to see her hugging herself. She looked uncomfortable as fuck but I wasn't about done asking questions.
"How old were you when that sick fuck took you?" I ask and her grey eyes fall to the floor as she answers.
"I..." she pauses then I watch her swallow a breath in. "I don't really remember...but I was small." She confirms, and I lose it I get up, and slam the door behind me.
[Emily's POV]
I must have done or said something wrong, because as soon as I told him how old I was when I was abducted, he storms out and slams the door loudly. I raise my hands to cover my ears then look around the unfamiliar room.
The feeling of being alone in a room so different is overwhelming. Then I heard a loud crash and some glass break in the other room. I whine a bit and scurry to the closest corner of the room hidden behind a nightstand by the bed I curl up and hug my legs to my chest, leaning against the wall. I close my eyes shut.
I should be used to such noises and such things, but I'm just not. And while that barn was awful and he was just as awful, at least he was predictable. At least I knew what to expect. I didn't know what my savior wanted from me, nor this place. And that was scary. I feel my eyes water up at the sound of pounding on the wall. I cover my ears and listen to a voice in my head one I often listened to when things got too tough.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine you make me happy, when skies are grey, you'll never know dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away."
My grandmother used to sing that to me often when I was a kid. if I close my eyes and think of her, I could still hear it. I stay in that corner until I'd be told otherwise. I'm not sure how long it was, but it's dark now, and Negan walks back into the room, looking around then I hear his feet stop at the bed
"Where the Fuck are you, kid?" He asks then he rounds the bed and sees me in the corner. He looked shocked to see me like he forgot I was there perhaps. I glance down at his hand and it's bandaged up I wonder what happened.
"What are you doing over there, doll face?" He asks in a softer tone, and approaches me, and I sink lower, cowering as he's standing over me. He puts his arms up in defense and takes a few steps back.
"Not gonna hurt you, Doll." He says, looking at me. I nod and wipe my tear stained cheeks with a sniffle.
"Uh...sorry if I scared you there earlier… Violence towards women and children is just… So not cool." He says and I nod in agreement silently.
We sit there quietly for a few moments. I watch as Negan's eyes travel to my marked up legs. He lets out a sigh and brushes his stubble with his left hand, then looks up at me.
"You can, uh use my shower if you want." He finally mumbled and I nodded standing up. I could not remember the last time I got to bathe. I stand there awkwardly a bit and he gestures to a nearby door. I nod again.
"T-Thanks." I say before going in. I close the door behind me and look around. Grey tiles everywhere. A toilet. The bath tub. I take a few steps forward to look in the bathtub. There were knobs and stuff, but I couldn't for the life of me figure it out.
I turn around and jump at the movement I see at the corner of my eye. But it was only my own reflection.
I stare at it. I lock my eyes onto my own gaze. I haven't seen myself in a very long time. My once round face has more defined cheekbones, jaw bones. My hair tangled beyond belief. The girl in the mirror was a woman, and she wasn't me. I bite my lower lip and stare for a bit. I looked like my mother. Well, not exactly, maybe I was a skinnier version of her.
I get tired of the sight of the stranger I see in me, and sink down to the floor. The tiles are cold underneath me, but I don't really care. It felt kind of nice. I wrap my arms around my legs and hug myself for comfort.
I wished for years to be gone from that place, and now that I finally am, the changes all feel so wrong. I feel like a puzzle piece that doesn't fit. I sit there for a long while, until a startling knock snaps me out of it and I jump a bit.
"Emily, are you okay? I don't hear any fuckin' water." I hear his deep voice say through the door. I clear my throat lightly and stand up to answer the door.
"Y...yeah, I uh." I bite my lower lip again. "I Uhms can't figure it out." I say, then look down at my feet. Negan brushes past me and walks up to the bathtub. He turns some knobs and the familiar sound of running water reaches my ears. He pours some soap in and watches it fill up, occasionally checking and making sure it's warm. I could swear he was a professional at preparing baths, or maybe I was just lacking common sense.
Once it's filled up he gestures to the bubble bath with a grin.
"All yours, little lady." He says just before he starts walking towards the door. Though, I don't really want to be left alone.
"W...will you stay…?" I ask in a small whisper and he stops and spins around on one heel.
"What was that?" He asks with an eyebrow raised, perhaps shocked by my question. I clear my throat again.
"Will you please stay…" I glance at the bathtub.
"Water...kind of scares me…" I explained looking down at my hands. He just nods then takes a seat on the toilet seat lid.
"Alright." He simply says and I turn to the bathtub. I stare at the bubbles, but I know just underneath them is water. I bite my lower lip again, this time so hard that it bleeds. That's when a voice snaps me out of my trance yet again.
"You know, sweetness, usually people get inside the bath, when they wanna take one." I could tell I was annoying him. I felt so bad because he's helped me so much.
"I'm sorry…" I say, gripping the hem of my shirt. He turns around to look away from me.
"If you need help taking your clothes off, just say the word, I'm a bit of an expert at getting the ladies to drop their fuckin' clothes for me." He chuckles, leaving me puzzled. I didn't quite get what he means but I look over at him and speak up.
"I can do it...thank you." I say stripping myself of the large T shirt and boxers he had given me earlier. I take one step into the tub. The water was still warm. It was more comforting than I had expected it to be. I step into the tub fully, then sit down, letting the bubbles submerge me, wincing slightly at the movement.
My rib cage still hurt. But the warmth of the water made the aches in my body slowly slip away from me. Though it felt nice, I still felt a bit weary about the water.
Negan's POV was brief, but more to come in the next chapter! Unless if you guys don't enjoy that, then maybe not. How do you guys like the story so far? also, thank you so much Horrorfan13, Charleneclark1988, and guests for reviewing! If any of you follow my other stories, and wonder when I'll be updating them, probably sometime later this month, I will work on all of them, even the ones that I haven't updated in a while, and maybe even some new story ideas I've got in the works! :) thanks guys!