Where Your Loyalty Lies

Bree is seated in her quiet cell, scratching a white story into the gray cement wall using a chalk rock she found. The stuffy room has her black hair slick with sweat, clothes stuck to her skin like gunk. She's pushed her hair back and out of her face, removed her jacket and boots, but the heat is still unbearable.

"Why do I keep ending up back here?" she mumbles as she scratches random words into the cement, mostly food-related. Her tired, chalk-dusted fingers drop the rock and come to rest against her growling stomach. When was the last time she ate? Days ago, she thinks, back in Alexandria. She'd been too nervous to eat since Merle was kidnapped. But the adrenaline was gone now and her stomach felt like it was tying itself into a knot in protest.

She briefly wonders if she could try to seduce her guard or even Negan, knock them out with her "incredible strength, and make a run for it. Embarrassed, she knows she doesn't have the confidence or skill to pull something like that off. She rebuttons her green polo and fixes her mussed up hair. Without a mirror, she'd probably made herself look like a crazy person. She remembers she has a knife in her boot. When someone comes into her room, she leaps out to attack, but Negan catches her hand easily and points to the camera hanging up in the corner of the room, indicating he saw it coming.

"Gotta tell my men to be more thorough in their pat downs, I see..." he teases, getting a kick out of her disgruntled expression. He gets her to drop the knife by squeezing her wrist tightly enough, then forcibly leads her to another undisclosed room, one a little less intimidating than the cell. He sits an angry Bree in one of the two chairs that are on either side of a small table. After adjusting herself in the seat and folding her arms over her chest, Bree watches Negan pace around the room. Lucille isn't with him, so she relaxes a little knowing she won't face the same fate as Glenn... at least not right then.

Finally seeming to calm down, Negan takes a seat in the chair opposite of Bree's. His eyes bore into hers with such deep intensity that Bree can't help but squirm a bit beneath them.

He speaks. "That was some messed up crap, Baby. Not cool at all."

"As opposed to you going back on your word and trying to keep Merle?" she retorts.

"Hey, I did not like the way he was looking at my little not-so sweet and innocent wife. If those shadow people hadn't shown up... I'd be letting you see him get his face ironed off."

"Good thing they showed up."

Negan leans towards her, brow drawn, lips squeezed together with a brewing anger. "Who were they? And what was up with the paint jobs on their helmets? Felt like Halloween out there."

"Giving you information wasn't part of the deal," she curtly replies. She's feeling a little more powerful now that she knew she has information he'd like to have.

He leans back in his chair, warning her she wasn't making this easy on him. "When did you become such an enigma?" he wonders. "I mean, it's making me want to get down on one knee right now, but you're also bugging the heck out of me. How about we start with easier questions, work our way up to the toughies? Were those Rick's people who shot at me? Yes or no."

"No."

"Who were they?"

She looks off to the side. "Friends."

Negan chuckles. "Alright. Play hard to get for now. But that prickly attitude has earned you a few more nights in Le Jail Cell Hotel!"

He calls his guards to take her back to her cell. She struggles as they hoist her up by her elbows.

"Negan, you don't have to do this! There's enough blood on both sides! We can have peace now!"

"Make sure you put the music on in her cell so I won't have to hear Joan of Arc flapping those lips of hers."

Thanks to the music, she is able to turn away from the camera and talk to Merle through her walkie talkie, another present left on her from guards a bit too nervous to do a thorough pat down on a woman they knew their leader had his eye on.

Merle assures her that everyone is alright, and he wants to come get her but that red headed Godzilla chick (Stheno) and Alonso won't let him.

Bree tells him not to come for her. She's not worth anyone getting killed, and she'll be alright here.

"It was stupid as heck for you to switch places with me, gal. There's a lot worse things that can happen to a woman being held prisoner than a man."

She swallows, thinking of the despondent look that had plagued Maggie's face after her time being held captive at Woodbury.

"I'll be alright," she assures him. "Negan might have killed you; I've got a better chance of him keeping me alive since I've known him longer. I'll talk to him, and maybe ... maybe I can get him to leave Rick alone and work with our groups instead."

Merle scoffs. "You think Deputy Boy Toy isjust gonna let what happened to his people go? This is war, both of them know it. The fighting can only end with one of those two 'leaders' kill the other. There's gonna be blood, little peacemaker." He chuckles when Bree doesn't respond, knowing that he just burst her little bubble and brought his own 'leader' back down to reality. "Just 'cause you flutter your eyelashes at that man and he likes it- - for whatever reason- - it don't mean he's gonna let Rick drag his ego through the mud."

"I'm not- - You don't...!" Bree struggles to collect herself. "As your leader, you'll listen to me," she demands, mustering up an authoritative voice. "I want you to stay with your brother and protect him. I'll be fine here, whichever way things go."

Ungrateful jerk, she adds under her breath. The only reason she came back here in the first place was to make sure he was safe. But it was typical Merle; he hated the fact that he had to be rescued and now wanted to make her feel like she'd done something wrong.

He hesitates but finally agrees. "Whatever you say, li'l boss lady. S'not like anyone's going to let me go no place anyway. You just stay safe there, hear?"

"I will. And we'll fix things, Merle. I promise."

"Tch. Sure ya will, sweetheart."

She edges along the wall and hides her walkie-talkie in a crevice at the back of the cell. The strange, upbeat music is still blaring, so she tries her hardest to go to sleep despite it.