I sat up and yawned, looking around the room. I was in my bedroom at Doveport, and my limbs were tangled up in my bedding. I stared down at my pillow and blanket, feeling confused.
"I don't even like vegetables." A familiar voice brought me out of my sleepy haze, and I turned my attention to the person that was sitting at the end of my bed.
Philip was staring off into space as he spoke. I furrowed my brow as I stared at him.
"Phil?" I asked, unsure if it was really him. He looked the same as he always did, with his friendly smile and shiny bald head. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something felt off.
"My wife used to have to force me to eat them, you know? And Viv is working so hard out there. I just wanted to tell someone." He wasn't looking at me, but was instead focused on the wall.
"Okay?" I squinted at him, not understanding why he was telling me this. It was awfully bright in my room for some reason, and unusually warm.
"You doing alright, Ellie? I'm worried about you." He patted my blanket covered leg and I nodded.
"Yeah, I think so." I didn't sound too sure. I glanced over at the door, but it wasn't there. The wall had morphed together, caging us in the room, which continued to grow hotter with each passing second.
"I'm here for you, kiddo." His voice started to sound garbled. I turned back, and his face morphed into something else.
Philip was no longer Philip, but someone I hoped I would never have to see again.
A.J. started to climb up my body and grabbed my face.
"LOOK AT ME!" he roared, and I couldn't look away. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. His hands grabbed at my shirt and he started to tear it away. I tried my best to fight him, but the blankets that were tangled around me felt like restraints. I thrashed violently, and then watched as his face morphed again.
"Only thirty-seven?" Caleb scoffed. "I can do better. Let's double that!" He took out my knife from his belt and brought it to the skin of my neck. I was powerless to stop him.
And then he sliced.
My eyes shot open and I sat up in a panic. The sudden movement caused a sharp pain in my neck, and I reached up to touch where my throat had just been slit. My fingertips met with a bandage, not blood.
It was just a nightmare.
I let out a deep breath and felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of my face. I looked around the room, trying to calm my nerves. Eric was still sedated in the bed, and I could see the sun was out. I winced as the pain flared up all over my skin.
I quickly grabbed the medication bottle off the table next to my bed and tossed two pills into my mouth. Not too long after, the pain subsided, and I sighed in relief.
Carson came into the room just as I had settled back onto my pillow.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, walking over to where Eric was sleeping soundlessly.
"Those pain meds are really good," I confessed as I sat up. I hoped I didn't look as shaken as I felt from my terrifying dream. "Where did you get them?"
I watched him prepare a needle for Eric.
"From you, actually," Carson replied, as he gave Eric a shot of medication. I wasn't sure if it was to keep him sleeping or for pain control. "They were with the blood pressure pills you supplied to Negan a few months ago."
"No shit," I smiled, remembering back to when I had found the totes with Amy and Eric. It had been right after I had met Negan.
My smile soured as I remembered the conversation I had with him the night prior.
'You owe me.'
He had been so cold and indifferent, and I didn't understand why. I was still angry at him, and I wanted to confront him again. Maybe he'd be easier to talk to if I got him alone.
"Where's Negan?" I asked as I got up from the bed, moving carefully to avoid any unnecessary pain.
"He's probably having one of his weekly meetings with his lieutenants," Carson said, pulling off his medical gloves.
"Where?" I asked, sliding my shoes on.
"Not sure. The rec-room, probably. But you need to stay out of their business." He turned to me with a stern look on his face. "You need to stay in bed. Your wounds will heal faster if you rest."
"I know. I just need to talk to him." Before the doctor could say anything else, I hurried out of the infirmary and down the hall.
Naomi had shown me where the recreation room was when she gave me a tour of the place, and I was confident I remembered the way. After my nightmare, I was determined to try and talk to Negan again. My pace was painfully slow, but my balance felt a little sturdier than the night before. Soon enough, I reached the door to the rec-room and pushed it open. I didn't bother to knock.
Negan was sprawled out on the couch and surrounded by his men, one of whom had been in the middle of a sentence when I barged in. They all stared at me as I hobbled into the room with my head held high. I didn't care how stupid I looked, or that I was playing with fire. Negan's eyes scanned me from head to toe.
"You lookin' to add more scars to that already large collection, sweetheart?" he snickered. His men chuckled at his joke, and I narrowed my eyes at him. Part of me wanted to turn around and leave, but another wanted to punch that smirk off his face.
He wanted to play?
Then we would play.
They were still laughing at his low-blow jest as I reached my hands down and grabbed the bottom of my shirt. In one quick motion, I peeled the fabric off my body and over my head, exposing my bandage covered chest and abdomen. I balled the shirt up and threw it across the room, hitting Negan square in the face.
The room grew eerily quiet as I stood before them half naked. Goosebumps formed on my skin from the chilly air, but I ignored them. My shirt had fallen onto his lap, where it remained untouched. Negan just stared at me, a look of confusion slowly spreading on his face. I held my arms out as if I was presenting myself to him—to all of them.
"You said I owe you. I'm here to pay up." I said, but my voice sounded so cold I wasn't sure it belonged to me at all. I reached up a hand to unhook my bra as I noticed a flash of anger in Negan's eyes.
"Stop," he growled.
My hand froze in place and I glanced around to see his men were watching me with curious expressions, not entirely understanding what was happening. Some of them were ogling me. Others had their eyes locked onto Negan, trying to gauge how he would react.
"Everyone get the fuck out," he ordered. His men immediately stood and filed out of the room. I felt their eyes on me as I turned my attention back to Negan.
"I thought you'd like an audience," I teased, as we were left alone. My voice was playful and the tension in it was almost hidden. He narrowed his eyes at me as I unlatched one of the little hooks of my bra.
"Stop," he repeated, in the same voice.
I dropped my arm from my back and tilted my head.
"Why? Am I going too fast? I can move slower." I pursed my lips, pretending to be confused. "I'm just giving you what you want."
His eyes fixated on my breasts, before returning to my face. He tossed my shirt back at me and I caught it in my hands.
"Put it on," he demanded, turning his head away. He had done nothing but give orders since he had realized what I was doing—orders to his men, and orders to me. I knew I was pissing him off, but I didn't care.
"Why? Do my cuts disgust you?" I pressed, holding the shirt in one hand. He was trying not to look at me.
"Come on, Negan. We might as well get this over with so you can get back to your little meeting." I reached for the zipper of my jeans and pulled it down.
"Knock it the fuck off!" he suddenly shouted, making my fingers freeze. I had just started to pull my jeans down my hips, but stopped. My amused smile changed into a scowl and my anger surfaced.
"You said I owe you! You took me away from Doveport, so this is all I have left to give!" I yelled back.
Negan stood up so fast it scared me, and I dropped my shirt onto the floor. He was towering over me in seconds, but didn't touch me. The action was clearly done to intimidate me, but I swallowed hard and held my ground, glaring up at him.
"The fuck it is!" he snarled. "You're being really fucking stupid right now."
"I have been stupid!" I cried out. "People are dead because of me, Negan!" I closed my eyes and pictured John and Minnie's faces. They were gone because I had been too trusting. I could have turned Caleb and his men away. We could have searched them for weapons. I was supposed to be a good leader, and it was my mistake that cost people their lives.
I wondered what had happened when Negan's Saviors stormed the school. I hadn't been able to see the aftermath, after Caleb had slit my throat.
"Did you lose any men?" I asked, opening my eyes to try and read his features. When he didn't answer and continued to stare at me, it was all the confirmation I needed.
"It's all my fault," I whispered, shaking my head.
Negan's hand reached for my arm, and I flinched when his fingers touched my skin. I expected the action to be rough, but it was a comforting gesture. I felt tears threatening to spill down my face as he gazed down at me, and I looked away.
"They said they needed our help. I thought they had a baby." I was staring off into space as I tried to explain to him why I had let Caleb into the school. "Philip opened his home to Amy, Eric, and me. I was just trying to show them the same kindness… "
Negan was unusually quiet as I spoke. His fingers were still lingering on my arm, but I didn't pull away from his touch. I swallowed hard and peered up at him through glossy eyes.
"I have nothing left, Negan. You saved our lives, and I don't know how else to say thank you. Why won't you just let me give you the one thing that I know you want?"
I placed a hand around his fingers that were still touching my arm and moved his hand down to my waist. I knew he wanted me. If I owed him, then I could repay him this way.
Negan's hand left my waist and wrapped around my lower back. In one fast motion, he pulled me into a strong embrace. The action surprised me, but I didn't fight it. Instead, I buried my face into his chest and couldn't help the stream of tears that were now rolling down my cheeks and staining his shirt. He held me for a while as I cried; the room was quiet, other than the sounds of my sniffling.
After holding me for a while, his hands moved to my upper back where he hooked my bra back into place. My face scrunched in confusion as he carefully grabbed each of my arms. I went to take a step forward to close the distance again, but he held me still.
"Not like this," his voice was husky. He was staring down at me with such a soft expression, filled with pity and something else unspoken.
I frowned. He had been propositioning me for weeks, and now that he finally had his chance to be with me, he was rejecting it? I didn't understand it, and I was even more surprised to realize I felt disappointment at it. Part of me had wanted him to take me up on my offer—to help me escape for a few minutes.
"You really want me to stop?" I asked, reaching my arms out and wrapping them around his neck. His jaw clenched a little as I slid one of my hands into his hair, gently tugging on it. Negan let out a groan and closed his eyes. I could see the internal struggle playing out on his features as he placed his hands on my hips to hold me back.
"It's the meds talking," he grumbled, not opening his eyes. His jaw was clenched, and he was very stiff. Maybe it was the meds that had started this little show, but it was backfiring fast. Sure he was getting aroused, but I was too.
"Come on," I coaxed, feeling the grip of his hands loosen enough so I could once again close the space. My bra pushed up against his chest and he let out a long breath.
"Elle…" he sighed, opening his eyes to look at me. It was supposed to be a warning, but I could hear the strain in his voice. We remained locked like that for a while; each of us staring at one another, but neither of us made a move.
"You need to get your ass back in bed." He smiled a little as he gazed into my eyes.
"I'm sick of sleeping," I muttered. One of his hands returned to my arm, but instead of holding me in place, his index finger carefully traced the edge of one of the bandages there. As he touched the cotton coverings, I remembered what Amy had told me.
"Can I see Caleb?" I asked suddenly. Negan's hand dropped away from my arm.
"No."
"Please? I want to see him!" I said, moving a hand to his face to rub against the soft stubble, hoping I could convince him. He let out a long sigh and then shook his head.
"You don't need to worry about that." He was trying to change the subject, but I wasn't done with my questions.
"When can we go home?" I asked, thinking about the mess that was probably left back at Doveport. The bodies of Caleb's men had probably been left there, and I wanted to clean up the school before the smell of decay filled the halls.
When Negan didn't say anything I dropped my hand from his face and huffed.
"You can't force us to stay here, Negan." I pushed away from him and bent down to pick up my crumpled shirt.
"Of course I can," he said, just as my head popped through the opening of the shirt. I shook my head in frustration as I smoothed the fabric down.
"I don't understand why you aren't willing to screw me right now. You've already fucked me over and over again. If my scars are that bad-"
I didn't have time to finish my sentence. Negan approached me fast and took my face into his hands. Tilting my head up carefully in one quick motion, he pressed his lips against mine. Unlike our first kiss, this one felt tender and gentle. The action had taken me by surprise, but I relaxed in his grasp and kissed him back. When our lips parted, I looked up at him in confusion.
"Negan-" I started to say, but he cut me off.
"Shut up and listen. Your cuts don't disgust me." His thumb started to rub against my cheek. "They're a fucking reminder that I could have saved you sooner. I sent you back inside that school with that sick fuck. I should have taken you away when I had the chance."
"But the others would be dead," I murmured, leaning my face into his touch. It felt nice— kissing him felt nice.
"I know, but it doesn't change the fucking fact you got hurt." He was looking at me with such a serious expression that I knew he was being sincere.
I had been so wrong. He wasn't repulsed by my scars—he felt guilty about leaving me with Caleb.
"And you don't owe me, okay? I take care of my people. And as bad as I want to take care of you…" His other hand reached down to the front of my pants where his fingers pinched the zipper and pulled it up. "That's not what you need right now."
I didn't know what to say. He was telling me sex was off the table, but his sudden confession had me wanting him more than ever. He stroked my cheek and smiled.
"I stationed some of my men at the school. Your people are safe and can stay here for now. We can discuss this shit more when you're feeling better, but right now you need to go lay down."
I hated to admit it, but he was right.
Going home wasn't really an option at the moment, and we were probably better off staying at the Sanctuary for the time being. Eric needed Dr. Carson, and I needed the pain meds just to function. I had just taken some pills before coming to face Negan and already my cuts were starting to hurt again.
"I had a nightmare," I whispered, hoping he wouldn't send me away. Negan chuckled and his hand dropped from my face. I missed the contact immediately.
"You're a big girl, Elle. I think you can handle some bad dreams."
He nodded to the door, gesturing for me to leave. I sighed and hung my head down. I would agree to play by his rules for now.
This was his house, after all.
Before I exited the room, I turned to look back over my shoulder. Negan looked so serious, but that gentler side was still present. I could see the way he worried about me even from across the room. This brutal, carefully calculated man had built up such a tough outer shell, but when we were alone that facade cracked and allowed me to see a completely different side.
As I headed back to the infirmary, I wondered how different things would be between Negan and me if I hadn't been so badly injured by Caleb.
I wondered if Caleb was really being tortured.
And most importantly, I wondered if I had really set out to push Negan just now, or if my intentions had been due to something else entirely.
I sat down on the medical bed and glanced over at the pill bottle. I picked it up and screwed the little top off, pouring two pills into my hand. I wasn't ready to face the demons in my dreams and didn't want to feel the things I was feeling. It was hours before my next scheduled dose, but I didn't care.
I just wanted to feel numb again.