The war didn't come fast and furious. Instead, days were spent with Negan enclosed with his lieutenants, working to find a way to keep his people safe and deal death to my family. Eugene was cloistered in a warehouse with a set of workers to make ammo. And me? I walked the Sanctuary with different Saviors, the inconsequential. The ones that didn't have much to offer during planning.
I took in the marketplace, the kitchens, the other areas that I hadn't paid much attention to during my tour and then Carl's. I walked outside, breathing in fresh air upwind from the walkers that lined the fence. I smiled while seeing the garden. I kept to myself, but always tried to smile and show that I was approachable, that I was trustworthy.
While I got to know Negan's world, I tried to remember who I'd been during the time we spent at the prison. When I'd taken care of Judith and did storytime with the other children. How I kept myself busy while Daryl was recruiting or on runs. How I kept my life turning while Dad and Carl reconnected. How Jessica Grimes used to be.
I could remember being the person that calmed the tension down. That came back so easily with Negan the night he'd returned and declared war on Dad and his people. It was an added bonus that Negan hadn't felt tortured by what he had to do, not really, there wasn't a guilt that I had to take away. I hadn't had to remind him of the man he was, of the fact that he was good enough. Negan didn't need that type of reassurance. He knew who he was, he was in touch with his darkness and he reveled in it. No guilt, just more irritation by what he saw as my family's failures.
I could also recall that I'd been the mediator, the person who kept the calm, the person who made sure everyone had been on the same page. I wondered, while reading the book that I'd pulled from the shelf, who had taken that role on when I'd disappeared into my own mind? Had Michonne? Was Carol the one who took it over, she'd clearly become Daryl's new confidant? I settled into the sofa, curling into the spot that Negan's body usually occupied and let my mind drift to the story in my hands.
Negan returned after lunch, but before dinner. His eyes were tight with the tension of dealing with the unknown. The things he couldn't prepare for, like what he could expect from my dad. He'd dealt with the ambush of one outpost. He'd dealt with Daryl, Sasha, and Rosita's attack on a set of Saviors, a rocket launcher attack, after a confrontation. But this? War? He didn't quite know what to expect from Dad and my family. And that was stress that he usually didn't carry at all, I could tell.
He chucked when he took in me, down to the shirt and panties that I'd found most comfortable when I was in his rooms sitting in his spot on the sofa, legs up on the back, head on the seat, hair hanging down to the floor. His shirt was at my waist, my panties fully on display, but honestly I was comfortable. More comfortable than I'd been in a very long time. My eyes met his, the tension I could still make out even upside down, but there was mirth there too.
"See something funny?" I asked, tossing the book aside, but staying upside down.
Negan stalked toward me, power still radiating off of him even here, in his own space. He put Lucille down on the table, and he stood over me, looking down and his grin grew. "What are you doin', sweetheart?"
I stared up at him, seeing his tension slowly go out of him. Finding my silly ass upside down was helping him. Not completely, but a little. "Reading. Or I was." I gestured at the discarded book. "How was your day?"
He hovered above me shaking his head. I rolled my eyes and turned over, sitting up. I scooted over so his seat was empty. Negan sat and pulled me to him, kissing my temple. "It was long." He sounded tired, and I could feel the remnants of his tension in the way he was holding me. I curled into his body and let him hold me before I asked the first important question I felt I had ever asked him.
"Can I help?" I wasn't asking if I could take his mind off of it. And I knew that he knew that from the way he stilled.
Negan huffed out a sigh. "Jessi, I don't want to ask you-"
"I'm asking YOU, Negan." I interrupted. "Can I help?"
He settled back into the sofa, getting more comfortable and considered my question. "It's just that, we don't know your Dad, not really." His fingers were sliding through my hair as he talked, absently, but soothing for both of us. "I thought I understood Rick Grimes. I thought I beat him." Another sigh. "Clearly that was a fucking lost cause."
I pulled back so I could see his face. "You want to understand my dad?" I asked, wanting to be sure I understood what he was having issues with. He nodded, his eyes searching mine for signs of distress. "What would help you plan?"
That night, Negan saw me at my most aware, most Jessica Grimes self. I sat with him, explaining my dad's morality. My dad's belief system. How he'd fought other odds, the Governor, Terminus, and the challenges that had come from the first moment he took over as the leader of our group.
I discussed Daryl, for the first time with him. Explaining that the man I'd loved was more than a redneck or a hick. That he was a tracker. That he was my dad's second. That he was far more formidable than Negan could ever have known.
And I told him more.
That I'd saved Glenn because of Maggie's baby. That Carol was more like the me that I hid behind than even I was, that she could be far more merciless than anyone seeing her would ever assume. I told him as much as I could, not so he could harm them, but so lives could be saved. Not just Negan's and his people's, but my family. That if he knew what to expect, that if he knew how they worked, that somehow it could all be cut off at the pass.
Negan listened, taking in my words as they were offered. He rarely interrupted. Instead he listened, only asking a few questions here and there. I realized, once I finished that he'd seemed pretty interested in Carol and the Rhees. He also paid careful attention to what I said about Daryl. Dad's information was welcome.
"The Rhees?" He'd listened well enough to keep names straight. "She was having issues? With the pregnancy. That's what you were saying?"
I nodded, wondering why he was so curious. Then he muttered under his breath. "Negan?"
His eyes met mine. "We took the doctor from Hilltop." His voice was quiet and I understood. He'd made it worse. My 'sacrifice', it was worthless if she didn't have medical help. Shit. "When our Dr. Carson-" was thrown face first into a furnace, I waved him off from reminding me of that horror show. "I had Simon get their Dr. Carson." Wait, what? "Brothers." I nodded and sighed. Great. "Shit." Yep.
"That would explain why I didn't see them in Alexandria, and why they'd be ready to go after your blood." I offered, shifting so my head was on his chest. "Any reason you're so interested in Carol?"
Another huff of breath. "Yeah, think that she's with the Kingdom. Fucking tiger nearly ate me." What the literal fuck? I must have twitched. "He didn't, obviously." Sure, let's be nonchalant. He could have become kitty chow, but here he was, safe and sound. I shook my head.
"Any other people you piss off while out there on your own?" I asked, my voice muffled against his chest. Information would be useless if Negan threw out aggravation like confetti.
"I wasn't alone," he offered, but I could hear the warning in his tone. Negan didn't like to be reminded that he'd made shit infinitely worse. "Daryl?" I waited, what about Daryl? "You still sound like you-" He stopped and pulled me away from his chest so he could see my face. "Are you still in love with him?"
I stared up at Negan. I held his gaze, I considered what he was asking. Did I still love Daryl? Yes, I would always love Daryl. He was the man that I'd given trust for my very life to. He was the man I'd hoped to start a family with. He was the man that I didn't see coming, but once he was there, I couldn't have imagined anyone in his place. But was I IN love with him? That was a far tougher question to answer. And I had to wonder why it mattered? Negan had WIVES. I was a distraction, nothing more nothing less.
"Why does it matter?" I asked, watching his face. It wasn't the same tone I'd used when he'd asked his questions when I first arrived. When he was trying to unlock me.
"I-" Negan's thumbs were stroking my cheeks. "I just NEED to know, Jessi. Are you still in love with him?"
Maybe he didn't trust that I'd hold up my end of the deal. That I wouldn't stand beside him if push came to shove. That my love for Daryl would overrule my new loyalty to him. "It doesn't matter, Negan. I'll stand by you." He shook his head and then he was on his feet and pacing.
"It does matter, Jessica. It fucking does." He was running his hand down his face. "I NEED to know that he's in your past. That you're fucking over it."
"Why?" I asked, honestly baffled. "Why does it matter, Negan?" I sat up, scooting forward so my feet met the floor.
"It just fucking does." He almost growled, looking far scarier than I'd ever seen him look. "I want him out of your head and heart, Jessica. I-"
"This doesn't make fucking sense, Negan." I stood up and put my hands on my hips. "I know that I haven't exactly been in a position to PROVE my fucking loyalty to you and your people, but Daryl's place in my head or fucking heart doesn't have a damn thing to do with that. If you don't trust me, then put me in a fucking cell!"
He was glaring at me and I knew I was glaring back at him. "You are just as fucking blind as your brother aren't you?" He offered, voice deadly quiet.
Blind? What the fuck? "I have no fucking clue what you're talking about." I threw up my hands and started to turn away from him. How do you argue with a madman? You don't.
"It's got nothing to do with your loyalty, Jessi." He was staring down at me, fists clenched. "And I'd fucking kill the first asshole who threatens you with time in a cell." I stared up at him, so filled with confusion that I couldn't speak. "It's you. For shit's sake, it's YOU." I was still staring. "You asked me why I was HERE, remember?" I nodded, sure, I remembered asking why he was so damn focused on me when he had plenty of diversions in his harem. "Because of YOU. I wanted to know you, the person behind a fucking will to die. The woman I could see hiding behind so much fucking pain that I could barely see her, but she still came out of those fucking trees and stared me in the eye and offered herself up in bargain for someone else's life." He moved closer. "YOU, Jessica Grimes, that's what matters. I want to know if Daryl is still living in your heart because if he dies at my hand or my order, I don't think I'll survive you hating me for it."
Wait, what? "Why?" I asked, scared of hearing it, but needing to know what he meant.
