A/N So we're about to start catching up with the TV show's timeline and crossing over. I had to make a few changes to things that happened in the show to make everything fit into my story and plot, I hope you all don't mind. I have to apologize for no shout outs this chapter, I'm exhausted but want to get the chapter posted up before I head to bed. I'll get you all in the next chapter, so please keep sharing the love and leave a review! Thank you to all who joined the Crimson family last chapter by reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following! If you're new and loving it, favorite, follow, and leave a review. Review every chapter if your heart desires! Knowing that people are enjoying my story is my inspiration to keep writing, even when I'm about to pass out on my keyboard like I am now.
A knock on Negan's bedroom door roused Crimson from her very deep slumber. The morning sun was pouring through the windows, at least it wasn't an ungodly hour in the early morning. She removed herself from his arms and moved back to her side of the bed despite his grumbling protests. His normally well-groomed hair was sticking out at several angles. Seeing him so mussed up was endearing, it was humanizing.
"What the fuck are you waking me up for?" Negan yelled.
"Sorry Negan," Simon spoke through the closed door. "We have a… unique situation that needs your attention."
"I'll be out in a minute. My fucking breakfast had better be waiting when I get out there!"
"Already is Boss, for you and the lady."
Negan rolled out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She heard the toilet flush, then the sink run while he brushed his teeth and slicked back his hair. He never left his bedroom until he was neat and presentable. She peaked under her shirt to check her wound while he was busy. Blood hadn't even soaked through the bandage overnight like she'd expected. That was a good sign.
After he was done, she went into the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her teeth and changed out of her uncomfortable jeans into a pair of cotton sleeping shorts with every intention of returning to bed. By the time she was finished, he'd already changed into a fresh t-shirt with his jacket on and Lucille in hand, ready to go. She was going to sit back in bed, leaving the men alone in his office to discuss whatever business was urgent enough to wake Negan. But he stopped her with a nod towards the door, indicating that she should join them. She closed the bedroom door behind her then grabbed a plate full of eggs and a small bowl of oatmeal before taking her seat on the couch. Negan sat at his desk, Lucille rested against it while Simon gave a slight bow then stood in front of him, noticing the oversized shirt she was wearing, obviously Negan's, but he said nothing.
"Now what the fuck was so damn urgent that you had to wake me up?" Negan demanded.
"You wanna talk business in front of the lady?" Simon asked him. "This ain't usual business, Boss, it's personal for you."
"Anything you've got to say to me, you can say in front of her."
Crimson silently ate her breakfast, but cocked an eyebrow at Negan that he pointedly ignored.
"One of the boys caught Amber in a… compromising situation… with Mark. Happened this morning, he brought 'em both straight to me. She said what they'd done, begged me not to tell you, sayin' how sorry she was. I came straight up to you. They're waitin' downstairs in my office with a couple men."
Negan was silent for a minute. His jaw was tense, so tense it was twitching. She could see the fury in his eyes, he was trying hard to not explode. Simon, who was always so calm, was anxiously waiting for Negan's orders. She could see the sweat beads forming on his forehead and he was practically bouncing on his heels. Based on the wild state of his hair, he'd also been roused from bed and rushed straight to his office instead of finishing his usual morning grooming routine.
"20 minutes, then bring them both up here. I'll decide what the fuck to do with them then." Simon nodded and left without another word, closing the office door behind himself.
Crimson waited to see if he would speak first. He didn't.
"What are you going to do?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know, never had a bitch cheat on me before." The bitterness in his tone was subtle, but it was there. "You got any suggestions?"
"Yes," she said like it was already obvious. "Take advantage of the opportunity and get rid of her."
"Opportunity?" Negan questioned.
"Yes, opportunity." She set her empty plate on the table before continuing. "You keep telling me how much you want me, and what do I keep telling you?"
"That I have too many wives." He was grinning at her now.
"Exactly, I consider even one, too many. I don't play games, so I'm not going to beat around the bush. You need to get rid of them, but you use them as a bit of a power symbol so you can't just get rid of all of them at once and you need a great reason when you do, even if you are trading them in for a much better woman." She smirked at him. He was quiet as she made her way towards him, leaning against his desk. "So this is an opportunity. Time to decide what you really want. If you want me, start by getting rid of her."
"I don't enjoy killing women."
"You don't have to kill her. Put her back to the bottom of the food chain, and keep her there. Any idiot can scrub toilets. Or have someone else kill her. Either one works."
"You really want her gone?"
"You know how I feel, I won't keep repeating myself just to stroke your already overinflated ego. What are you going to do about Mark?"
"He's one of my better men, it'd be a pain in my ass to replace him…" Negan trailed off, lost in thought for a moment before he had an idea. She could see the twinkle of excitement in his eye. "I took an iron to a guy's face once after he fell asleep at his post and a dead head got inside, that was fun as shit." He was grinning like a kid in a candy store with an all you can eat pass.
"An iron to his face?" she cocked a questioning eyebrow at him.
"Yeah, an iron, you know, one of those old cloths iron's you gotta heat up over a fire. Melted off half his face, fucking hilarious. Though it smells like shit. Now if I fuck up Mark's face, no one will fuck him. Problem solved." Negan grabbed her by her hips and slid her across the desk until she was trapped between his legs. His thumbs glided under her shirt to caress her bare skin. "You're like my own personal, fuckable, muse."
She smiled, cupped his face in her hand for a moment, and slipped away from him, caressing his check with her finger as she went. "Don't get grabby yet. You still have two more wives that have to go." She was still leaning against the side of his desk when Simon knocked on the door.
Negan yelled for him to come in and a stream of men, with Amber and Mark in between them, all flooded in. Amber's face was bright red, eyes puffy and bloodshot from a great deal of crying this morning. Mark was silently trembling as he stood beside her. Bud pushed the two to their knees before he took a bow. Simon and a few other men she didn't know kept them surrounded as they took a knee.
"So," Negan started. "You two thought you could fuck around behind my back." He came out from behind his desk, pacing in front of them, Lucille in his gloved hand. "I don't recall forcing Amber into anything. In fact, I…" He was cut off abruptly by Amber's cry.
"I'm so sorry Negan! I didn't…"
"SHUT UP!" He roared with such force that even Crimson jumped a little. The tension in the room was so thick, you could slice it with a knife. Negan took a deep breath and pointed Lucille at her, only an inch or two from brushing Amber's nose. Amber was trembling so hard she collapsed to the floor. Crimson could smell the sweat and fear pouring off of her. How depraved was she, that she was enjoying it? Watching Negan strut across the room, confident and commanding fear was intoxicating. Crimson couldn't stand weakness, Amber wasn't worthy of her pity, or her help.
"I didn't say you could open that filthy, cock sucking mouth of yours. Now what was I saying…? Oh yeah, I didn't force you into shit. You married me willingly. If you were no longer happy with your un-fucking-believable arrangement, all you had to do was say so. You could'a gone back to working for points any god damn time you wanted to. Is that what you want, Amber?"
Amber sobbed, propping herself up with her hands, shaking her head fervently, "No, no, I want to be your wife! I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry, it won't ever happen again!"
"You're god damn straight it won't." He crouched down and took her jaw in his free hand. "Congratu-fucking-lations sweetcheeks, you're the first women to be able to call herself my ex-wife. You now have 0 points, so I think you'd better get straight to work unless you don't want to eat today. And you enjoy sleeping outside. Beds and food, that shit costs points." He released her jaw as he stood up.
"Negan!" she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her weakness and desperation turned Crimson's stomach. How had someone like that survived so long in this world when better, stronger men and women had not? "No, please, I'll do anything you want!"
"That's great! I want you on your knees…" Amber perked up, apparently on her knees was a position she was comfortable with. "Scrubbing my fucking toliets. Bud, get her out of here. Find a janitor to put her to work. If she doesn't want to work, take her a few miles outside the fences and leave her there."
Bud grabbed her by the arm to drag her out of the office. Amber's eyes were wide with fear as she sobbed. It wasn't until the elevator doors shut that Crimson was finally relieved of the agitating cries. Crimson turned her eyes to Mark, who wasn't able to stop himself from visibly shaking.
Negan turned to Mark. "Amber's little pussy was just too much to resist? I get it, it's a nice pussy, she's your ex-wife, you still love her, blah fucking blah. Now, I know you don't want to leave Sanctuary, right Mark?" Mark shook his head. "Of course you don't want to. Who the fuck would, right? But you know I can't let this shit slide. So we're going to have a little show today. A show two days in a row, what a fucking treat!" Negan grinned. "Simon, I want everyone in the auditorium in two hours. Keep him locked up till then. And get a fire going, I want my iron ready when I get there. Amber gets a front row seat. By herself, not with my wives."
Simon nodded in acknowledgement. Mark was still shaking, tears forming in his eyes as Simon escorted him out, the rest of the men following behind. Apparently he knew what the iron meant and it wasn't going to be pretty. Negan was already seated behind his desk again before the office door closed with a click. Crimson gasped in surprise as Negan snatched her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap.
She hadn't even registered what happened when he buried his face into her neck, grazing her soft flesh with his lips and teeth. He pulled her tightly against his chest, until her knees hit the back of the chair on either side of his hips. She could feel him, large and hard, grinding into her core. And it felt so good, wet heat pooled between her thighs.
"What…" she couldn't finish her thoughts when he was all over her like that, like he was igniting every nerve she had all at once. She grabbed the hair at the back of his head to pull him away from her neck so she could lean away from him. His hands at her waist steadied her, preventing her from falling backwards. "What are you doing?"
"I gave you exactly what you wanted. Thought I'd get myself a nice fucking reward." He ground his hips into hers again, then ran a finger between her legs and she couldn't stop the moan that spilled through her lips. "You know you want it too, baby doll. You're so fucking wet for me that you're soaking through your shorts. I bet you taste as sweet as you fucking smell."
Crimson sat up on her knees, pulling her core away from his, but leveling her chest less than an inch from his face without meaning to.
"You're right," she said. She relaxed her hold on his hair and stroked the back of his neck. "You did exactly what I wanted and you do deserved a reward." She brought her lips down to him, hovering just out of his reach. "But you still have two more wives, and I'm not that kind of girl." Her other hand brushed across his chest. His breath hitched in his throat. "When the last one is gone, you can collect your rewards any way you want. But until then, I'm a free woman and you keep your hands off."
She pulled away so fast he didn't have time to stop her.
"What if I can't wait that fucking long?" he was practically growling at her as she walked back into the bedroom.
"Patience is a virtue. I'm getting dressed, then I need to stop into my clinic before we go to the auditorium."
Twenty minutes later, Crimson was ready to go, in a clean pair of jeans, fitted t-shirt of her own, and hair up in a neat ponytail. It was going to be a messy afternoon, and she didn't want it in her face or getting in the way of her work. She found Negan, sulking in his chair where she'd left him.
"I'm going to the clinic, then grab some lunch before. I'm sure I won't feel much like eating after."
His only answer was snatching Lucille off of his desk and heading towards the elevator. She followed him, and parted ways when they reached the main floor. There was a chorus of greeting as she walked through the halls. She's been a little worried that after her… display… at the last gathering, people may have been frightened of her. It seemed that she's worried for no reason. She considered that many of these people truly worshipped Negan, either because of or in spite of the gruesome thing he'd done. It wasn't so surprising that they would admire her more after she gutted a man on stage.
The clinic was empty. Nancy had released Jerry to go back to his room with his family a few days ago. Everything was neat and clean so Crimson had nothing to complain about. She locked the door before she stripped off her shirt for a bandage change. The torn flesh was irritated, but no signs of infection. She cleaned it with some iodine, dried it, and applied a fresh bandage. The rest of the stitches would be ready to come out in a week or two.
After she slipped her shirt back on, she laid out a few supplies she knew she would need. Sterile bandages, gauze, sterile cotton swaps, and a jar of antibiotic ointment were spread out over the counter. Ideally a bowl of sterile, cold water would be good, but it was impossible to completely sterilize water and keep it sterile after it cooled in their current environment and with the burns she was expecting to treat, no water was better than unsterile water.
She navigated her way back through the halls. The cafeteria wasn't as busy as normal. Perhaps some people didn't want to eat before a display from Negan. Crimson had yet to see a Negan ordered gathering that didn't involve some bloodshed. Cook made up a quick grilled cheese and side of freshly cut fries. The grunt workers had their usual tray of slop. She spotted Bud enjoying his own sandwich, chicken by the looks of it, and took one of the empty seats next to him.
"Afternoon Doc," he greeted her.
"Good afternoon, Bud," she said. "Is it just me, or is it a little quiet in here today?"
"They already announced the meeting, everyone's scrambling to finish up work before it starts. Negan don't like anyone being late."
"That would make sense."
Bud set down the last few bites of his sandwich before he spoke again, "You know Doc, I'm not sure what's goin' on between you and the boss, but you should be careful." He was truly concerned when he looked her in the eye. "You're a hell of a girl and I don't want to see something happen to you."
"Nothing has happened between Negan and I. I know that sleeping in his room is a bit unconventional, but sleep is all that happens."
"Just 'cause something hasn't happened yet doesn't mean something isn't going on. I love Negan, but you sure are growing on me Doc, a lot, and I think you got a lot to bring to Sanctuary, a lot of good you've already done and a lot more you can do. Just be careful."
Crimson smiled at him and threw her arm around his shoulders, resting her head on him for a moment. "Bud, that is so sweet of you to worry. But I promise I'm a big girl and I know what I'm doing. Negan is, well, Negan, but I can handle him." She sat back up to resume eating.
"Alright. Just take care of yourself. Sanctuary needs you," he said as he stood up, his lunch tray now empty. "I'll see you in the auditorium."
When she had about 10 minutes left, she made her way over to the auditorium. She was going to enter with the stream of people, but Jason was standing at the door and stopped her.
"Boss said for you to wait till he gets here," Jason said.
"Alright," she leaned up against the wall next to him to wait.
"So, you and the Boss huh? Are you a wife now?"
Crimson laughed. "No, I'm not a wife. I have higher standards than that. I know it looks like it, but there's nothing going on. Polygamy isn't my thing."
"You sure about that?" he asked.
"Positive."
"Whatever you say, Doc," he smiled at her. There was still something familiar about him, she just couldn't place it. It was like an itch in the back of her brain. "How's that shoulder doing?"
"Good. Might not even leave much of a scar."
"You must be a pretty good doctor if you can stitch yourself up like that and not leave a scar."
"I am," she smiled at him. "But do me a favor and keep yourself out of trouble. I'd rather not have you find out first hand just how good I am. You know, I still feel like I know you from somewhere. Are you from Georgia, originally?"
"No, California actually. Packed up and fled when the outbreak started, it got bad in LA pretty fast. I got out before the military started fencing people in. Georgia's where you're from?"
"Yeah. I worked my way up here over the years, survived as a nomad until Negan found me."
"You've got to be one tough lady to survive out there on your own." He was grinning at her, a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes.
"Tough and smart," Negan's voice interrupted as he turned around the corner, "Now shut the hell up Jay and let's get inside."
Jason bowed his head and murmured, "Yes Boss."
Crimson pulled herself away from the wall and Negan placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her inside. The auditorium fell silent as they entered, the people dropped to their knees. Mark was sitting in a chair on stage, his hands tied behind his back to the chair. Simon was standing behind him. Negan kept his left hand on her lower back, and slammed Lucille against the side of the metal stadium seats as they walked. The sound was menacing, echoing throughout the room. There were two open seats, front row, next to the aisle that Negan guided her to. She took one and Jason took the other.
"Here baby doll," he thrust Lucille into her hand. "Hold on to her for me, just till I'm done." The thud of his boots carried through the silent room when he jumped onto the stage. Didn't he realize there were stairs on either side?
"You know the deal. What's about to happen is gonna be hard to watch." His voice was loud, but soft, like a psychopath pretending he cares. "I don't wanna do it. I wish I could just ignore the rules and let it slide. But I can't!" He paused for a moment. "Why?"
"The rules keep us alive!" The entire auditorium spoke at once. Crimson hated that creepy cult shit. Especially from the men she knew, like Jason. It was worse when he was sitting right next to her, his voice so close to her ear that it stood out from the rest of the crowd.
"That. Is. Right." Negan emphasized his words, the underlying anger slipping into his tone. "We survive. We bring security to others, we bring civilization back to this world! We are the Saviors. But we can't do that without rules, rules are what make it all work. I know it's not easy. But there is always work, there is always a cost.
Here!" his deep voice boomed now. "If you try to skirt it, if you try to cut that corner!" He grinned and chuckled to himself. "Then it is the iron for you." He licked his lip as his eyes scanned across the room. "On your feet." He gestured for them all to stand.
He walked over to Simon, patting Mark on the cheek before he grabbed a glove from Simon's hands. He slipped the glove on, Crimson recognized it as the kind welders and metal workers used to protect their hands from burns. She'd used them more than once in labs when she was still in school. "D, bring it in!"
She looked back at the doors to see Dwight carrying an antique iron on the end of a long metal hook. The iron was red hot, glowing in the dim lights of the auditorium. Dwight pointed the iron up towards Negan who crouched down to take it off of the hook with his gloved hand.
"Mark," he turned to the man. "I'm sorry man. You're one of my top guys, but it is what is." Negan smiled at him before he lifted the iron and pressed it into the left side of Mark's face.
His screams pierced through the auditorium. Crimson had heard many men scream over the last 3 years, but never like that. The high pitch of his wails cut through her and she clenched her jaw to stop herself from flinching. Negan pressed the iron further into his face as Mark tried to move away, a task that was impossible when he was tied to the heavy metal chair. The screams didn't last long, it only took 30 seconds before he fainted from the pain. Self-defense mechanisms of the human body were a wonderful thing.
The smell of the burning flesh hit her nose, and Crimson clenched her jaw harder, holding her breath for a moment to keep herself from gagging. It was an awful smell, unlike anything she'd smelled before. She almost regretted eating lunch before she came.
When Negan finally pulled the iron from Mark's face, she could see strings of melted flesh pulling away with it. She felt bad for whoever had to clean that iron. Negan laughed, stomping his foot like an overly excited child.
"Eh, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" It was a rhetorical question, Mark was out cold. Or rather, hot. She smirked at her own twisted thought before she took another breath and the smell made her want to gag again. There was also a hint of urine in the air. Negan hung the iron back on Dwight's hook.
"Jesus, he pissed himself." Negan pointed to Amber. "Clean that up. Doc," he turned to Crimson. "I'm all done. Do your thing." As Crimson climbed onto the stage to assess the wound, Negan continued his speech. "Well, the pussy passed out. But it's settled, we're square, everything is cool. Let Mark's face be a daily reminder to him and to everyone else that the rules, matter. I hope that we all learned something today because I don't ever want to have to do that again." He smiled again. "Who are you?!"
"Negan!" the crowd screamed in perfect unison.
"You're god damn right! Dismissed!"
Crimson was leaning over Mark, inspecting his wound when Negan approached her. "You probably think I'm a lunatic now," he whispered into her ear. "I promise I'm not. Get him taken care of. No pain meds. Come on up to my room when you're done." Then he was gone.
Crimson was untying Mark's hands, carefully avoiding the puddle of urine forming below the chair, when she heard someone else approach. She looked up to find Jason grabbing Mark's shoulder to hold the unconscious man up.
"I'll carry him to the clinic for you," he said. "You shouldn't be lifting anything with that shoulder just yet." She nodded in reply, not trusting her voice enough to speak.
The rope hit the ground and Jason lifted Mark from the chair. He slung Mark's arm over his shoulder, holding it with one hand and grabbing Mark around his ribcage with his right. Mark and Jason were roughly the same size so it wasn't going to be easy for him to carry Mark. The walk to the clinic felt significantly longer at such a slow pace, Mark's feet dragging on the ground as they went.
She pushed the clinic door open and pointed to the exam table. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Lay him there, on his right side please."
"Yes Ma'am," Jason answered, his voice was strained and he was out of breath. He lift Mark onto the table, rolled him onto his side, then he collapsed onto the rolling chair next to the exam table.
Crimson washed her hands before she snapped on a pair of sterile gloves. She set a handful of cotton swabs and the ointment on her rolling tray then pushed it over to the exam table. She went to work carefully applying the ointment to the wound. It was slow work using cotton swabs, but it was the cleanest way to do it and didn't stick to the wound like gauze or a cotton ball would. She needed a thick layer so that she could bandage without it drying out. Jason sat quietly after he caught his breath.
"You don't have to stay," she told him. "He'll be sleeping here tonight."
"He might be a handful after he wakes up. I'll stay till you're done."
Crimson laughed and gestured to the knife strapped to her thigh. "I can handle one man."
"I know you can Doc, but I'm still staying."
"You can call me Crimson. Everyone seems to call me Doc, I'd rather my friends use my name."
Jason smiled, "So we're friends now?"
"Sure we are," Crimson continued to work as she spoke. "You had my back on my first run outside of Sanctuary, let me bleed all over your jacket after I was shot, let me borrow your iPod when I was on bedrest, and you were one of the few people to keep me company on occasion. I'd say that makes us friends."
"I don't know if that's a good thing," he was grinning at her when she glanced up at him. "You seem to attract a lot of trouble."
"Yeah, but it keeps things exciting. And you get the benefit of free medical care." She smiled back at him as she finished wrapping the gauze around Mark's head to hold the bandages in place. "There, done. He'll probably be out until the morning. We're good to go." She tossed the used supplies in the trash, pulled her gloves off with a snap, and put the ointment back on the counter. No use in putting it away when she'd need it tomorrow morning.
Jason tried to use his right hand to push himself out of the chair, but collapsed back on it, a quiet "fuck" muttered under his breath.
"You okay?" Crimson asked.
"It's just a muscle crap," He reached over his shoulder to rub it. Crimson smacked his hand away, exploring his shoulder muscles with her thumb. His back tensed the moment her hand touched him.
"You probably pulled it hauling his ass over here, it's a giant knot. Relax your arm to your side." He didn't relax. "I'm serious, you need to relax it. I'm your damn doctor, you're injured, nothing inappropriate going on here." She pushed her thumb back into the muscle, rubbing with firm pressure. "You're still tense. Take a deep breath and relax." He did as he was instructed and his body slumped a little into the chair when he relaxed. As the knot loosened, she pressed harder, adding her other thumb to ease the tension in his shoulder. It only took a few minutes for the knot to completely disappear. "There, that should be better." She went to the locked medical cabinet that held the more desired medications like opiates and muscle relaxers. Negan had given her a key, she kept it in her pocket along with the currently unused key to her room.
"Do you have a heart condition, or any medical condition I should know about?" she asked as she looked through the cabinet, picking up each bottle to read the label.
"No, healthy as a horse as far as I know," he answered.
She pulled out a bottle of generic Cyclobenzaprine andhanded him two. "That will keep it from getting tense again overnight. But don't take them until you're ready for bed, and lock your door. They'll knock you out for a good 8-10 hours. No alcohol either. If you start having a bad reaction, like trouble breathing or your heart starts racing, get me immediately. Won't be any problem if you have a healthy heart though."
"Sure thing, Doc," he cringed. "Sorry, Crimson."
"I'll forgive you this time. I've got to head up to Negan's office. Can you get Nancy down here to watch him?" She nodded towards Mark then looked at the radio clipped to Jason's belt. "I'd rather he not be alone overnight, just for today, through tomorrow morning. And have her bring a clean pair of pants for him. Those ones don't smell very good right now."
"I'll have someone bring her down. I won't leave till she gets here. Enjoy the rest of your day, Crimson."
She glanced at the clock on the wall on her way out. It was only 3 in the afternoon, but it felt so much later. Watching a man get half of his face melted off, then treating the fresh wound was exhausting. Now that she was more familiar with the halls, it didn't take her long to pass by the auditorium. She stopped to look inside.
Amber was mopping the stage floor. Her body was shaking with sobs and she was clutching the long mop handle like it was holding her up. It probably was. She was also lacking her usual clean, well fitted, stylish clothes. Not that style mattered anymore, but it was a status symbol for Negan's wives. Crimson thought it marked them as the useless, gold digging bimbos they were. But Amber didn't have those symbols anymore. Instead, she was dressed in one of the dirty gray sweat suits that only the lowest of the low wore at Sanctuary. Crimson didn't feel bad, at least Amber was still alive. She made a bad decision and it cost her almost everything. While Crimson thought it was a bit hypocritical that Negan could have multiple wives but they couldn't keep their first husbands, he was a domineering man and Amber knew what she'd agreed too. No, Crimson didn't feel an ounce of remorse towards her.
A few minutes later she found herself about to knock on Negan's office door when she heard voices. She paused her hand to listen.
"She needs the medicine," it was Sherry's voice coming from behind the door. "She's working all day, every day and still only getting a couple doses a week. She needs more or she's gonna die!"
Bud was posted up by the elevator, something he'd only been assigned to recently since Crimson had been holed up in Negan's quarters, and Negan wanted to keep his most trusted men on watch. She looked at him, and lifted her finger to her lips to signal her wish to remain secret. He shrugged and nodded in agreement.
"You know your benefits don't extend to anybody else, even your sister," Negan said. "This isn't a damn charity."
"What else is she supposed to do?"
"Work harder," Negan replied, like it was obvious.
"She can't! She's working as hard as she can already! She's barely sleeping enough and she's weak without insulin! What if I work a couple of shift in the kitchen each week, one shift for one dose?"
"No, my wives don't work. Tina's a big girl, she's not your responsibility."
"What if she marries you then? Amber's gone, you need another wife now," her voice dropped into a come-hither tone that made Crimson want to gag. "Isn't taking two sisters at the same time one of your fantasies?"
"No, it's fucking not. Get off me, I'm trying to work."
"It's Crimson, isn't it? But she said she doesn't want to be a wife," in her desperation, she wasn't wording her thoughts as carefully as she should. "Tina's pretty and she's willing, she'll do everything that uptight redheaded bitch won't. Tina won't turn you down!"
"I'm only going to say this once," his voice was deadly calm, the voice that frightened everyone, Crimson included. "Watch your god damn mouth. Crimson is a contributing member to our growing society and you'll give her the fucking respect she deserves. Now get the fuck out of my office and don't say one more mother fucking word."
Crimson heard Sherry's feet quickly stomping towards the door. She stepped back, so maybe it wouldn't look like she'd been ease-dropping. Sherry wrenched the door open and stormed out, shooting daggers at Crimson with her tear filled eyes. Crimson waited for Sherry to slam her bedroom door before she reached into the office to politely knock on the open door.
"Why the fuck are you knocking? You don't gotta knock, get in here," he told her. "You didn't give him any pain meds, right?"
Crimson closed the door and leaned up against it, propping one foot up. He was sitting on the couch with a small stack of papers in his hands.
"Of course not, you asked me not to," she answered him. "Not that I would have anyways. Third degree burns are actually painless, after the injury occurs. Burns the nerves, nothing left to sense pain. Would have been forth degree if you held that iron on any longer, I could almost see his skull in a few places. Either way, it would be a waste of a limited resource."
"Nothing less than he deserved. Fuck, maybe even more. He's still a god damn soldier with all the food and housing perks. Why the fuck are you standing by the door like you're scared of me. Get over here." He set his papers down and gestured for her. She took a seat next to him on the couch. He took her hand in his, stroking her palm with his thumb. "You're not scared of me now, are you?"
"Of course not. You've seen me slit a man's throat, and gut another one. Getting your hands dirty doesn't frighten me, even if it was a bit more gruesome then I'd choose. And sadistic."
Negan grinned at her. "But it was fucking creative, right?"
"Sure, creative, we'll go with that."
"I've got a few other creative ideas for tonight." Negan pulled her onto his lap and latched onto her throat, caressing and nipping at the sensitive skin, right in the spot he seemed to now know drove her wild. His hands grabbed her ass, pulling her so tightly against him that his hardness was stroking her clit through their layers of clothing. His lips brushed up her neck, ghosting over her jaw until they found her lips and claimed them in a searing kiss. His tongue demanded an entrance so fiercely that she couldn't even think to deny it. His tongue moved in rhythm with his hips, stroking her everywhere at once. God, how could he make her entire body feel like it was on fire? She didn't want him to stop. Stop. No, he had to stop. She couldn't do this with him yet. His hand brushed over her breast, circling her sensitive peak through her shirt with his thumb. Fuck, everything he did felt so good. No, not yet, not until every last wife was gone. If she gave into him now then she'd be giving into to him for the rest of her life, however long or short that may be.
"Stop," she whispered breathlessly against his lips. His hips picked up speed and she moaned into his mouth. She pressed her hands against his chest to put some distance between them, but his strong arm held her in place. "Negan," she moaned. "Please, stop." Her begging just seemed to spur him on. She leaned her head away from his and slapped him across the face. It wasn't hard, she couldn't get much momentum with her body pressed so tightly against his, but it had the desired effect. He stopped, his grip loosened enough in his shock that she pulled herself off of him. Her knees were so weak they were shaking as she stood.
"What the fuck was that for?!" he yelled.
"I told you to stop," she responded quietly. "And you didn't."
"The way you were moaning it and rubbing all over me sure didn't fucking seem like you wanted me to stop."
"It doesn't matter how I said it, I said stop. It still means stop."
"I don't know what your god damn problem is. Amber's gone. The way Sherry is bitching and moaning and demanding things, I'll have her gone in a couple of weeks and Valerie will be right behind her. Val's shit in bed, not even worth all the resources she's using up."
"That's great. Then, in a couple of weeks when those two are gone, I'll fuck so hard you'll feel like your cock is going to fall off. Until then, I'm not your woman so keep your damn hands to yourself. How many times do I have to repeat myself?"
"Why the fuck do you have to be so uptight? You're gonna get exactly what you want!"
"Why do you have to be such an overbearing asshole who can't listen when I say keep your hands off of me? Good evening, Negan. I have better things to do then keep having the same circular argument over and over with you." She turned towards the door.
"Where the fuck are you going?"
"Back to my own room where I can sleep in peace."
"Get the fuck back here!" But it was too late, she'd already slammed his office door and was storming towards the elevator.
"You alright?" Bud asked as she practically punched the down call button for the elevator.
"I'm fine, thank you. I'll see you at dinner in the cafeteria?"
"Yeah, I'll see ya there."
Crimson stepped inside before the door had even opened all of the way and hit the button for the 9th floor. She was too tired to take the stairs today. She closed her eyes and leaned against the elevator wall. Things were going so well until today. Why couldn't he just keep his hands to himself for a couple more weeks? How hard was it to understand that she couldn't be with him until Sherry and Valerie were gone too?
How the hell was she going to survive until then?