Disclaimer: I don't own "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: I'm not sure why I decided this had to be written, but here we are. I thought it would be interesting to tackle the au idea of instead of Father Gabriel, it was Maggie who was left behind with Negan.
Warnings: soul-mates, soul bond, fated love, angst, drama, romance, unresolved sexual tension, sexual tension, post traumatic stress disorder, consent issues, dubious consent, trauma, loss, grief. Negan is not a good person and Maggie doesn't deserve this.
What doesn't kill me (makes me)
Chapter 13
The meal was unmistakably winding down when he spoke again.
"It suits you," he hummed, putting another square of fruit crumble on her plate without asking.
"What does?" she asked, even though she knew. She wanted to hear him say it. To give her more ammunition to justify her hatred. So that no matter what, she was right, and he was wrong.
"I never understood the whole 'glow' thing. People used to say that shit all the time. But you have it."
The baby kicked.
She refused to put her hand on her stomach.
But Negan gave her a look anyway.
The one that made her wonder exactly how much he felt through her.
She didn't want to know.
"Did you see it?" he asked, leaning back in his chair. Almost relaxed as he sent her the faded image of him walking down the dirt-drive towards the farm. Black suit gaping open, oil-streaked at the cuffs. Dark hair tousled as he shaded his eyes and caught sight of her standing on the front porch, watching him back. "The way it was meant to be?"
"I did," she answered.
How could she forget?
It was so Hallmark Beth would have squealed. They would have touched somewhere along the line. Maybe when she'd handed him the landline to call a tow. It didn't matter how or when, but it would have happened, and everything would have been perfect. Just like it was supposed to be.
Daddy would have hated the age difference, but even he would have accepted it eventually.
They were fated, after all.
"That was your house, huh?" Negan observed, legs shifting under the table. Making her tense at the closeness. "Pretty. Keeps with the theme."
"Don't do that," she told him. Quick on the mark. Quick to anger.
"Do what?" he parroted. Probably pretending to be clueless. It was hard to tell with men sometimes. Either way, she wasn't willing to give him any slack. He didn't deserve it and she didn't have the energy.
"Act like this is easy. That this is fixable. It isn't."
If he'd been making fun of her, he wasn't now. Every inch of him was suddenly dangerously sober as he sat up in his chair.
"It has to be," Negan told her plainly. "Going on this way isn't going to work. You know it and I know it. I can feel it eating away at me...making us weak. Like I'm being stretched too thin. I don't know how to explain it, but it isn't good. I know you feel it. You can't lie, not to me. Look- Maggie, I-"
The sweetness of the cobbler threatened to dance painfully across her teeth.
"I don't want to make you," he murmured after a beat.
Her spine stiffened into living titanium.
"You won't. You can't," she hit back. The words so deadpan they killed their own echo.
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, before closing it again. Looking at her like he was hoping to find her weak. Just one chink in her armor. Anything to give him an opening.
"We need to...hell," Negan sighed, rubbing the back of his head before staring her down again. "Look, I know what you're going to say, but today proved it. We need to at least keep doing this, or our bodies are going to give out. I can't afford to be weak right now, things aren't exactly going smoothly in paradise. And you- the baby... you have to give me something here. Even if it's just dinner. You and me, like this. Just like this. Nothing else. I swear."
Jesus' warning rang in her ears.
But she shook it away, only hearing the out she desperately wanted.
What he was proposing was akin to a touch stone.
They would only meet when it was needed.
She could live with that. The bare minimum. Especially if it was for the baby's sake.
If she gave up this inch, if she controlled it the right way, maybe they could both have what they wanted. He had what he thought was a way in, and she had a leash around his neck like a garrote.
"Do you plan on kidnapping more of my people?" she returned, finger tracing the blunt edge of a butter knife.
Negan cocked his head. The lines around his eyes softening as he caught on to her decision through the bond. Feeling her settle on it just like she felt his relief.
"If I have to," he replied with a grin. "Once a month. Here. That's all I'm asking. Hell, we can even make it mutually beneficial. You have shit we want, I have shit you want. It can be all business, as far as the peons are concerned."
Her mouth was set in such a firm line that her teeth ached.
But she believed him.
"Fine," she answered, setting the knife to the side. Signaling they were done as she let her napkin fall to the floor. He rose with her, so close she could have reached across the table and brushed his fingers. "But if you take anymore of my people to get to me-"
He cut her off before she could finish.
"I know," he hummed, smirk wide and ugly across his face. "Retribution. Blood. My head on a pike. I get it. But you need to hold up your side. If you don't..."
Heartburn curled up her throat like a poisoned cough as he trailed off meaningfully. Unable to deny that at least he had the decency to make hating him easy as she glared with exhausted rage.
"I'll be in touch," he added. "And not on the god damned radio. If you wanna keep this quiet, lets deal with it in house, hmm? I don't think you want Rick to know about out little 'thing' anymore than I do."
She didn't say anything when he gathered up his pack and left her alone. But she felt him grow in the back of her mind with every step that separated them. She felt his joy. His frustration. His need. His thoughts were a hopeful jumble that almost took the legs from under her. Not because he thought he'd won. But because out of the two of them, she was the only one who'd been trying to fool herself.
He would have her in pieces. Inch by inch, if he had his way.
She needed to be careful.
He wouldn't stop until he had all of her.
The relief of being close to him wore off so quickly she could have cried. She didn't. But it was a near thing. Mostly because any tear she shed for him would be one too many.
Her stepmother used to say tears were gifts. That it was better to feel everything - the good and the bad - than feel nothing at all.
The way she figured it, he didn't deserve anything from her.
Save for maybe a bullet someday.
She let Enid set up the nursery not long after. Ignoring her worried eyes as she forced a smile at her. Pleading off with all the work she had to do. Telling her about the themes and colors her and Glenn had talked wistfully about in the dark. Trusting she would do it justice.
Truth was, every time she tried to start, Negan flickered into view. Blinking in confusion, eyes deep set and sallow, like she'd been the one to summon him there.
She didn't want to know if she had.
A/N: Thank you for reading. – There will be more to come.