Between the Thorns

Chapter 17

Jean expected to wake with a terrible hangover. But other than being a little more tired than usual, she felt fine. Her body was relaxed, only her eyes following Daryl's movements as he hurried to pull his shirt and socks on. His body was a roadmap of scars and marks. He still had bruises and healing injuries from whatever Negan's man did to him. But the marks on his back looked years old. She guessed most of them had been put there when Daryl was no older than her girls. It made her curious about his upbringing, especially given how gentle and patient he was with her daughters.

"Sorry, I musta forgot to set the alarm last night," Jean mumbled, her apology half-hearted at best. She really wasn't sorry for making Daryl late. Or for lingering in bed with him. Or for what happened while they were lingering. She knew the guilt and regret would come later. But she was going to do her best to live in this moment for as long as she could.

"S'not yer fault," Daryl assured her. The bed dipped under his weight as he sat down to pull his boots on. "See ya later?" Jean hummed her approval of this.

"See you later," she agreed.

Jean heard the apartment door shut behind Daryl. She got about thirty more seconds of peace and quiet before Lily barged into her room, wanting breakfast. Jean suggested a granola bar, but her daughter wasn't impressed with that. So Jean sent the girl out of the room and rolled out of bed. She pulled a pair of jeans on and ran a brush through her hair. Jean glanced down at her rumpled bed, the heat rising in her cheeks as she thought about the feel of Daryl's body against hers. It was when she was straightening out the sheets and blankets that the first wave of guilt washed over her. Since John died, Jean had been occasionally spraying the sheets and pillows with his cologne. The familiar smell helped her sleep. And as she shook the wrinkles out of her comforter, she was hit with a whiff of it. Cedar with a tiny hint of spice. Her grief hit Jean in the middle of her chest. Like someone punched her right in the heart. She scrubbed at her face, blinking the tears away before they could become a torrent. What was she doing? What the hell was she thinking fooling around with another man in John's bed? He died maybe a month ago at most. She really was the worst possible sort of woman.

"MOM!," Lily hollered. "I'm starving to death." Jean tucked her regret away, turning her focus to mothering her girls. Lily and Rose needed her. That's what kept her going. Jean was about to pull her shoes on when a knock on the door startled her. Jean was quick to answer the knock, hoping that breakfast was being sent up to her, like it had been the day before. Her hangover was creeping in along with her self loathing. And not having to deal with the cafeteria for breakfast sounded even better than it usually did.

"Oh!," Jean yipped. She was so shocked to see Negan in her doorway that it took her a moment to react. Jean bowed her head, stepping back before she lowered herself to one knee.

"As you were," the man quickly announced. Jean rose back to her feet and wrapped her arm around Lily, who was crowding into her side.

"What can I do for you?," Jean asked. Negan didn't wait for an invitation. He was already inside her apartment, glancing around the place. Jean felt her heart start to pound inside her chest. There were more of his men standing out in the hall. This was not a casual visit. Something was very wrong.

"We need to have a little conversation," he announced. Jean immediately started racking her brain for things she might have done wrong. Her private conversation with Sherry came to mind. She thought they were alone. But maybe someone heard them. She couldn't think of anything else she might be in trouble for. She barely even left her apartment since her daughter was attacked. Maybe Negan was just here to talk to her about that, Jean thought hopefully.

"...About your accommodations," Negan added, gesturing to the inside of her small apartment.

"As you know, these apartments are reserved for the families of my lieutenants," Negan announced. Jean felt her stomach clench. She knew what he was doing before he said anything else. "And since you're not part of that group anymore, we need to move you down to the factory floor with the rest of the point workers." Negan waited for Jean to object. But it wasn't her that spoke. Rose emerged from the bedroom, her face still a map of colorful bruises from the attack. Her eye was black and her arm was anchored to her side in a sling. Her expression was a mask of pure horror. Negan almost felt bad for what he was doing. Almost.

"No!," Rose shrieked, "I can't sleep down there. There's men down there. You can't make me do it."

Lily was standing on the opposite side of the room, her untied shoes on her feet and the granola bar that Daryl tossed her before he left still clutched tightly in her hand. Her eyes widened as her sister clung tightly to her mother and began throwing a fit of epic proportions. Lily glanced down at the granola bar in her hand. Then back at her sister and mother again. Then she darted past Negan's men and out into the hallway.

Daryl arrived at the garage and had time to slurp down half a cup of coffee and get the car he was about to service up on a jack when Lily burst into the place screaming like a banshee. Given what was happening to her sister the last time she came running into the shop like that Daryl didn't wait for an explanation. He just followed her, both their feet pounding against the hard concrete floor. As he ran, every possible horrible thing that might be happening ran through his mind. He shoved through the small crowd of armed soldiers that were gathered outside Jean's apartment door. Once he was inside, he breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw that Jean and Rose had not been physically harmed. Rose was clinging to her mother, sobbing down the front of her shirt while the woman was stuffing a pile of folded clothing into a garbage bag. When Rose saw Daryl, she let go of Jean and lurched for him, clinging to him like a frightened baby monkey.

"What in hell is going on?," Daryl asked. Jean stopped her frantic packing and glanced at Negan, hoping the man would save her from explaining the situation. Before he could say anything, Rose pointed an accusing finger at him.

"He said we can't stay here anymore because my daddy died," Rose sobbed.

Daryl quietly observed the situation, not failing to notice that Negan was smirking at him. Jean was stuffing the rest of the small pile of her things into the bag, tying it closed before she grabbed an empty bag and shook it out to open it. Rose was crying so hard, she was bordering on hysterics. And Lily was standing to his right, shifting her weight nervously from one foot to the other. Daryl wasn't stupid. And he wasn't blind. Clearly, Negan wanted something from him. And he wanted it bad enough that he didn't care if Jean and her daughters served as collateral damage if he didn't get it.

"FINE!," Daryl hollered, regarding the taller man with an angry glance. "What do I have ta do?"

"What?," Negan asked, feigning innocence.

"You fuckin' heard me!," Daryl hollered back. "What do I gotta do to stop this?"

Negan tossed his head back and laughed. He took a step closer to Daryl. Rose shifted her body away from the man, releasing her grip on Daryl and taking a step back. Her sister gripped her and the two girls clung to each other, looking back and forth between the two men with big frightened eyes.

"You know what you have to do," Negan said, his voice low and full of his arrogance. Jean stepped forward, looking like she might be thinking about stepping in and ruining what was about to be a beautiful moment. Negan gave her a warning look. She bit her lip and stepped back, gripping the back of a dining chair so hard her knuckles turned white. Daryl turned, taking another look at her. And the girls. Then he lowered his body down until his left knee was resting on the floor. He stared up at Negan, raising his eyebrow questioningly.

"Oh you know I need to hear you say the words too," Negan encouraged. "I've been waiting weeks for this. Weeks!" He cupped his hand behind his ear, pantomiming like he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hear what Daryl was about to say even though the man was only an arm's reach away.

"I am Negan," Daryl hissed, looking at the man with total disgust. Negan was undeterred by the tone of his words. He clapped Daryl on the back.

"That's what I'm talking about!," he shouted, turning to the men in the hall and asking them if they heard that shit. Daryl pulled himself back up into a standing position, hoping that the ugly scene that was playing out when he arrived back at the apartment was now over. But that was hoping for a little too much.

"This is your place now," Negan told him, gesturing to the small apartment like it was a palace estate. "But if you want Jean here to stay, then you'll have to marry her."

"What?," Daryl asked. He was sure he heard the man right. But he was still sure he must be misunderstanding something. He looked at Jean. Her face had gone as pale as her knuckles. She was biting her lip so hard, Daryl was sure she must be tasting her own blood.

"You don't have to do that," Jean said, her voice thick with emotion. "We'll just go."

Daryl looked at her. He just kneeled down to Glenn's killer and pledged his allegiance to the man. So that Jean and her girls could stay here. If they left anyway, then he just debaced himself and threw away the last little bit of his pride he had left for no reason.

"No," he told her. "Yer not going anywhere."

"Is that a proposal I just heard?," Negan boomed, his laughter filling the small space.

Jean couldn't take any more. She released her grip on the chair and darted across the small space, wrapping her arms around Daryl. He could feel her body shaking. She whispered to him, telling him he didn't owe her anything. He didn't owe her this. But he wasn't sure if he agreed with that. And even if he didn't owe her. He owed it to himself to do what he felt was right. And right now, this was it. Rose and Lily crowded in, tucking themselves into their mother's sides.

Having got what he came for, Negan retreated into the doorway. He knew he could get Daryl to agree to work for him by threatening Jean. But the older girl's crying jag really sealed the deal. He was going to have to remember to bring that kid something nice next time he stopped by. Negan let them know the ceremony would be in a few hours. Then he exited the apartment, shutting the door behind him. Lily darted over and locked the door behind him. Daryl shook his head at the girl, locking Negan out. Fucker could have a whole army up here in two seconds to battering ram the door down if that's what he wanted. That little slide lock wasn't going to help.

"You don't have to do this," Jean told Daryl once she finally got herself under control. She wiped at her face with the back of her hands.

"I know," Daryl assured her. He let his eyes roam over Jean's body, thinking about how good it felt to hold her in his arms. How right it felt. He wasn't sure about much in his life. But he was sure about one thing. "I want to do it."