First off- I apologize for the long wait. Nursing school had taken a lot of time.
Second- I love you like my rather... unique take on this chapter, and Jamie;'s place in the group.
As far as Negan is concerned- Jamie is an outsider. The one with the least connection to people- the one most likely to run, to do whatever it takes, lie, cheat, steal, to bail out on others for her own survival. She has no parents- no apparent connect to desire to like anyone in the group- so Negan's interested in her.
He doesn't know about Daryl being her father- not since Daryl isn't talking, and since Sherry and Dwight haven't told anyone. Dwight may be an asshole, but he's not soulless- he doesn't want to see anyone else hurt if he has to, and as long as Daryl keeps quiet about his kid and stays out of Dwight's way, well, he's fine with that.
She sat atop the wall, a lit cigarette in hand. Negan had her father- Rick was on a run with Aaron, Carl and Enid were with at the Hilltop.
The only company she had left was the nicotine.
So here she was- ontop of the wall, on watch duty, if you could call it that. There wasn't exactly much to do, after all their guns had been taken. But she wasn't looking to make friends- or enemies. She wasn't expecting anything, really.
So when a truck pulled up to the gates with Negan in the driver's seat and Carl sitting in the passenger's seat, well- she was thrown for a loop.
Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Carl- that fucking dumbass- had done something, and if Negan let him survive this, then she just might kill him herself. She took a deep breath, schooling her expression. Perhaps the hardest thing to realize was that there was nothing she could do- if she wanted to keep up the act of the outsider of the group, all she could do was watch from afar.
So she watched- sitting there smoking, as Negan parked the truck. People came out and stood on their porches, milled around in the streets. He and Carl disappeared into the house.
She had to think over her next move carefully. She could walk in, and try to feel out just what was going on, risk blowing her secret- or leave Carl to fend for himself. The problem was- she'd always been a sucker for Carl Grimes.
She stuffed her pack in the pocket of her black hoodie, ducking down the street carefully, before she was stepping quietly into the house. Until the screen door banged shut behind her.
Negan sat at the table, with Carl next to him, Judith in her high chair. Olivia bustled about, a look of barely contained fear in her chocolate eyes as she poured lemonade.
"Hey." Negan grinned. "So it's the outsider. You live here, kid?"
"I exist. Wouldn't call it living." she muttered, keeping her gaze pointed towards the stairway.
She had a lit cigarette in her hand, and Carl frowned. "Dad told you not to smoke in the house." he said, a hint of disapproval in his face.
She took a long look at Carl, before ignoring him entirely.
Carl scoffed slightly, trying to keep the amusement from his eyes at her show of defiance.
"How's your arm?" Negan asked, raising an eyebrow.
She paused- her arm was still splinted, even in her hoodie. "Fine."
"You want some spaghetti, kid?" Negan asked, flashing her a smile. "It doesn't look like our buddy Rick is gonna show. And Olivia doesn't wanna fuck-" he eyed Olivia with a bit of disappointment.
She snagged a roll off the corner of the table, pocketing it. "I'm good, thanks."
" 'Course you are sweetheart." Negan smiled, and she disappeared upstairs.
"She's kinda hot." Netgan said calmly, looking over at Carl carefully.
Carl frowned.
"You like her?"
Carl frowned. "I'm not sure. And... even if I did- she doesn't seem to like anyone."
"Where'd you find her?"
"She just... showed up one day. Outside the walls, wandering around. One of our people went out- gave her food- she decided to stick around. Didn't talk to anyone, or make any friends. She was just... here."
Negan nodded, looking thoughtful. "Keep working on her, kid. She'll have to fall for you sooner or later."
"Thanks." Carl smirked, amused by the absurdity of the situation. "I'll try to remember that."
Upstairs, Jamie sat back on her haunches in their room. She'd been listening, ear pressed to the vent in the floor.
Things didn't look that bad. Whatever Carl had done, Negan didn't seem too wound- it seemed like Carl was alright, and Negan was buying their cover- for now.
She found time to nibble on the roll she'd grabbed, intermittently putting her head down to listen to the conversation going on downstairs.
Negan continued to harass Denise, but seemed to grow more and more impatient in Rick's absence.
"Fuck it- we're eating. When he gets back, we'll talk."
Things sounded like they were going to be okay- for now.
She lit fresh cigarette before she was heading downstairs, grabbing another roll on her way towards the door.
"Hey-" Carl paused, speaking around a mouthful of spaghetti.
"What'd I tell you about smoking in the house?"
Jamie rolled her eyes at him, taking a long drag of smoke before letting it out slowly. Then she was striding back out onto the porch, screen door banging shut behind her.
With Carl as out of trouble as he could be at the moment, she was free to go back to roving the perimeter.
The citizens huddled amongst themselves, talking nervously. She made sure to stay away from them all- she was the outsider, after all- no friends, no connections. She had to make them believe it, at least.
She ended up sitting on the steps of a nearby building- out of the way enough that she wasn't close enough to be considered near anyone, but close enough to see what was going on.
It was bizarre, really- standing in the middle of the street playing pool.
Spence- with a half-filled bottle of brandy, speaking.
"I get what you're trying to do here. What you're trying to build. I'm not saying I agree with your methods, but I get it. You're building a network, making people contribute the the greater good. But there's something you should know."
The clack of the pool balls hitting together on the table was his only response, and Spencer continued.
"You should know, that Rick Grimes has a history of not working well with others."
Another clack as the pool balls collided, Negan frowning slightly, but still looking uninterested. "Is that so?"
"Rick wasn't the original leader here- my Mom was. She was doin' a really good job of it- then she died." Spencer chalked up his stick, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. "Not long after Rick showed up. Same with my brother, same with my Dad."
"So everything was peachy here for, what, years?" Negan swirled his drink in his glass. "And then suddenly Rick shows up, and you're an orphan." he paused, tongue poking out to moisten dry lips. "That is the saddest story I've ever heard. Good thing for you, he's not in charge anymore."
"Doesn't matter." Spencer leaned down, propping his cue on his fingers as he aimed his shot. "His ego;'s outta control. He'll mind a way to screw things up. Try and do things his way to take over. That's what he did with my mom, that's what he'll do again." his phrase was punctuated by the clatter of the pool cue hitting the cue ball, knocking a solid into the side pocket.
Negan sidled over, sipping his drink, that personable expression never leaving his face. He nodded as Spencer straightened up from his shot. "What exactly are you proposing be done about that?"
Spencer smiled, eyes lighting up. "I am my mother's son. I can be the leader she was. That's what this place needs- that's what you need."
Negan nodded. "So I should put you in charge. That's what you're saying?"
Spencer had an almost smug look on his face. "We'd be much better off."
Negan smirked, taking another sip from his glass.
Negan frowned, thumbing his nose. "You know, I'm thinkin', Spencer. I'm thinkin' how Rick threatened to kill me, how he clearly hates my guts- but he is out there right now, gathering shit for me to make sure that I don;t hurt any of the fine people that live here." He smirked. "He is swallowing his hate and gettin' shit done." he leaned down, poising his shot before the pool balls collided once again. "Takes guts."
He straightened, scrutinizing the unproductive shot for a moment before setting down his cue, pointing at Spencer happily. "And then there's you."
He sidled over. "The guy who waited for Rick to be gone so he oculd sneak over and talk to me, and get me to do his dirty work so he could take over and get Rick's place."
Spencer frowned, clearly trying to think of a way to word-smith his way out of the corner he'd painted himself into, as Negan continued.
"So I gotta ask- if you wanna take over, why not just kill Rick yourself and just take over?" his eyes had that predatory glint again.
"What what, I don't-" Spencer backpedaled, but Negan plowed onward, that serene smile never leaving his face.
"You know what I'm thinking? Cause I have a guess." he was nearly nose to nose with Spencer now, eyes glittering. "It's because... ya got no guts." he took the final step, closing the distance between them, and plunged his knife into Spencer's stomach.
Spencer simply stood for a moment, mouth working but no sound escaping, before he was gasping fruitlessly.
People around gasped- Negan raked his knife to the side, and in a flourish, Spencer's abdomen seemed to have split open, a mixture of blood and entrails falling out like the grotesque strings of a puppet...
Spencer fell to his knees, holding his own intestines, brown eyes growing dull with shock and disbelief, as he fell to the side, absolutely drenched in his own blood.
Negan stood, that smirk never leaving his face. "How embarrassing. There they are- they were inside you the whole time- you did have guts- I've never been so wrong in my whole life!"
Negan smirked, self satisfaction showing as clearly as Spencer's blood on his face.
Everyone stared at him in a mixture of shock and horror- Carl stared, one good eyes widened in shock from where he stood on the porch...
Jamie found herself on her feet, however, looking as where Spencer laid on the pavement, an impossible amount of blood painting the sidewalk around him- still flowing, really- like some sort of grotesque mural.
If he wasn't already dead, he was going to be very soon. No one could lose that amount of blood and survive- and there was no telling when he'd come back.
They were out of guns- it would be harder for them to manage to put a knife in his head once he came back. It'd be far easier if they did it now...
Her heart was galloping in her chest. She didn't know why she was thinking like this. Maybe it was because before Negan, they were all helpless- so instead, she focused on the threat that was manageable- the fact that Spencer was going to come back, and that they didn't have the guns needed to easily put him down.
She couldn't lose anyone else.
Everyone seemed to be staring in a mixture of shock and horror- stunned. Nobody could fight Negan. It was all a game of damage control, now- minimize the potential losses. Make sure Spencer was put down- keep their death toll at one.
Negan sidled over to where Lucille leaned against the pool table. "Someone should get out here and clean this mess up." he said it no more casually than if he;d spilled his drink, dark eyes surveying he crowd carefully.
The shock on their faces had clearly turned to discuss- some to pure hatred.
"Oh." he smirked, sounding surprised. "Anyone wanna finish the game?"
Something burned within her at the casual way he said it- she forced it down, however, as Negan surveyd the crowd.
Somehow, her feet were moving- she slowly walked down the steps, feeling like she wasn't even really moving at all, as she crossed the sidewalk and grass, stepping into the street, stride purposeful.
Negan turned, pausing for a moment when he saw her.
"You?"
She nodded, stepping forward. She tried not to look at him- instead looking down at where Spencer laid, unmoving. He was going to come back- best to minimize their losses.
Negan whistled. "Wow. All these grown-ass people, and you're gonna let some kid take care of your mess?" he surveyed the group, looking somewhat disappointed.
Rosita looked up, brown eyes shocked. "Jamie..."
"He's gonna come back." was all she said, stepping forward. Didn't they get it? They couldn't fight Negan- best to fight the dead and keep struggling to live.
"Wow. All you people, and only this kid can handle her shit." he frowned, offering the bat to her.
It was in her hands before she'd realized it- the wood was hard and unforgiving.
She frowned- her boots splashed slightly when she stepped onto the blood-soaked pavement to get close to Spencer's body.
"Watch. You might learn a thing or two from this kid." she could hear Negan saying.
She frowned, bending slightly to look down. Her stomach turned at the notion- this was the bat that's killed Abraham, that'd ended Glen...
Spencer's eyes were glassy and unseeing. He was gone. That was the only way she could've done this, was if Spencer was already dead. If he was still struggling to breathe- she wouldn't have been able to do it.
She straightened up, looking down at the corpse sadly. I'm sorry...
She drew back, bringing the barbed-wire end of the bat down as hard as she could on the back of the corpse's head. It has to be done.
Unseeing eyes bulged, and she could've sworn she'd heard something crack.
"Damn." Negan laughed slightly. "She's really goin' at it. See that- that little girl's got more balls than any of you."
She closed her eyes, tuning out everything. One goal- make sure Spencer didn't come back.
She drew back again, the bat making a sickening thud as it came into contact with the back of the corpse's head again. Fluid splashed back on her- blood. It stained her face and her clothes, and she had to close her eyes when she realized it was still warm.
Another hit- another splash of fluid. She heard an audible crack this time, like something in Spencer's spine was starting to give. Good. If she could sever his spinal cord, she could make sure he wither wouldn't come back or would be a paraplegic walker, easier to finish, without doing too much damaged to his face. He still needed to be buried.
She grunted, another blow raining down, another splash. had she done enough? She had to be almost finished- she wasn't even sure if she had it in her to keep this up much longer. The sound of flesh parting was starting to make her nauseous...
Another block, this one striking something with give and some sort of finality.
She stepped back, panting, to look down. The back of Spencer's head, just where it met the neck, was fairly well caved in- part of his skull was missing revealing a bloodied part of what she could only assume to be brain...
It was over. She was done. That was all she could think of as she straightened up.
And that was how Rick found them- with a horrified group of townspeople watching, her standing on the bloodied pavement over Spencer's corpse, splattered in his blood, with Negan's bat in her hands.