A/N: Don't freak out half way through! Read til the end. Trust me. Have a little faith ;)

The Walking Deth - Part IV

Here and Home - Chapter VII

Faith

The room had clearly been prepared for my arrival. Lit candles covered the desk, bathing the room with warm, orange, dancing light. The sheets on the big double bed were freshly washed and scented like lavender and looked soft as clouds. The bathroom, with a working toilet and sink, had a fresh bar of soap and washcloth hooked nearby that was screaming to be rubbed all over my grime covered body. The carpet was free from stains, there was no smell of urine or mould, and the wallpaper was still neat on the walls. Best of all the view of the Washington lights could once again be seen through the fully intact window. The view of hope.

Sometime after dinner, I had been reading my book by candlelight in our dank and dank first floor room, when Carson had knocked at my door. He had told me that Daryl had done something to impress Negan and as reward we had been given a room back on the fourth floor. The dirty stinking ruins of the first floor didn't really bother me that much, and I did worry about what Daryl had done to impress a man like Negan. But regardless, I had collected our belongings and made my way back up to the fourth floor.

I had been pretty nasty to Daryl over the last few days. It was hard to be loving with him when I had spent the whole day with someone who made me feel awful inside, and left me feeling emotionally exhausted. And it was hard to be loving when I was keeping secrets from him. I didn't want Daryl knowing that I had spent most of my days alone with Negan. I knew he would jump to conclusions, and get aggressive, and probably do something stupid to get himself hurt.

Now that I had a whole day away from Negan I was able to think clearly again, and I was ready to make up to Daryl for the nastiness over the past few days.

After giving my hair a much needed wash in the basin, I dressed in my sleeping shorts and tee and waited for Daryl to return sitting on the end of the bed ready to throw myself into his arms when he opened the door. I would apologise, and I would confess to what had been bothering me. And then we could put our heads together and figure out a way to get out of here.

It had been several hours since dinner, and I believed it to be close to ten o'clock and Daryl's quitting time, but as the time began to drag I gave up waiting patiently for him, and pulled out the book I had been reading for the last few days, rolled on to my belly and opened to the page I had folded to keep my place.

The book was titled 'The prince', written by some ancient Italian author named Machiavelli. I found it hard to follow, with most of the language conventions used going right over my head, but I got the general gist of it. To be a successful leader, you had to be brutal. No surprise of why Negan had given it to me.

After finishing a chapter about ancient politics there was a knock on the door. It startled me and made me jump at first, then excited about seeing Daryl, I bounced off the bed, leapt across the floor and swung the door open, smiling widely with anticipation.

"Oh." I muttered when my eyes rested on the large frame of Negan taking up the doorway.

I sighed and then stepped away from the door, not the slightest bit concerned that we were alone together. It seemed as though he had succeeded in making me feel comfortable around him.

Three whole days I had spent with him exploring parts of Maryland and Virginia. We had gone on a number of runs, for supplies, for gas. Some for little else than showing me the sights. Negan seemed almost normal at times, if you ignored the foul mouth. He had shown me a much softer side, speaking of his childhood pets and his mother, and he almost had me convinced that he was human after all.

He had never forced me to do anything I didn't want, although he had convinced me to sing him plenty of songs. He insisting that I would eventually give him what he wanted of my own free will. Of course that would never happen. Because no matter what he did, we were still prisoners here, and he had still taken Daryl's fingers off.

"What do you want?" I asked, smiling and trying to mask the disappointment in my voice.

Negan stepped forward through the doorway and rested his arm on the frame, "I just wanted to see how you were settling into your room."

I crossed my arms over my chest as I noticed his eyes drifting over my tee. I wasn't wearing a bra, and I was certain he could tell. "Fine. Thank you." I replied pleasantly.

Even with him leering at me, I felt serenely calm and unthreatened.

Negan eyed over the book I had left open on the bed. "Enjoying the book?"

I glanced over my shoulder towards the book and then back to Negan. "It's okay."

"It hasn't been easy keeping all these people safe and fed and in order over the past year or so. We've all had to do things were not proud of."

I nodded. "I know."

Rick had killed his best friend. Carol had killed a child. Joe had kept sex slaves. Gareth had eaten human flesh. In comparison removing fingers didn't really seem that bad…but they were Daryl's fingers.

Negan shifted his weight on the frame and edged closer to me. "I sure missed you today. I missed all your songs. I always feel so much better when you're singing to me." He flashed me a wide toothy grin. "Do you want to sing me another?"

I sighed and resisted the urge to roll my eyes before clearing my throat and singing him the most simple song I could think of.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,

you make me happy when skies are grey,

you'll never know, dear, how much I love you…

I fixed my eyes carefully on to Negan's

please don't take my sun shine away.

A sly smile slowly grew on Negan's square face. "And where is your sunshine tonight?"

I stood on my tip toes and tried to peer over Negan's shoulder, chewing on my lip anxiously as my eyes rested on nothing but empty hallway.

"What's the matter, honey?" Negan asked shifting into my view.

I sighed and turned my eyes back to Negan's face. "He isn't back yet."

Negan rubbed his chin and hummed theatrically. "Odd. We got in from the run hours ago. We went to the lounge to have a drink, to celebrate the good work Daryl did, but Daryl left hours ago..."

I studied Negan's face, solid as stone. "Well he hasn't come to the room."

Negan continued to rub his hairless chin. "He was pretty fucking drunk… one of my girls offered to help him to his room."

My heart jolted in my chest. "Daryl?"

Negan nodded, a grin on his face. "Yeah."

"With one of your girls?"

Negan shrugged. "Men have needs."

"He has me." I replied firmly.

Negan mumbled a thoughtful sound. "You know I told him about where we had been. About our little dates. He wasn't happy. Maybe he thought it best to just give in. Let the better man win."

I struggled to hold back a hateful sneer. I could just imagine the lies he told to get Daryl's imagination working overtime.

"You know I am the better man. I will always be able to keep you safe, fed, clean."

I dropped my eyes to the floor thinking Daryl could do all those things too, if Negan would ever let us go.

"Maybe he didn't want to come back here and face you?" Negan continued. "Maybe he's still in the old room."

I turned away as Negan's lips curled into a shady looking smirk, and grabbed for a sweater.

I tugged it over my head, and when it finally had popped through the collar, Negan was strolling down the hall whistling along to the tune of the song I had just sung him.

I approached the door to room one-zero-six cautiously, anxiety knotted in my stomach, wondering what exactly I would find inside. I went to knock on the door, but remembering I still had the card, I swiped it on the reader, making the door click to signify it was unlocked, and I pushed the door open.

The first thing I noticed was the strong odour of alcohol. It overwhelmed all the other smells in the room, or mould and walker rot. The second thing I noticed was the single candle burning on the window sill, and casting dark shadows throughout the room.

I stood in the doorway, turning my eyes to where I could see the dark form on the mattress and waited for my eyes to adjust.

The form on the bed was definitely female. Her large dark nipples stood out against her much fairer skin, and the light danced over curvy feminine hips. I almost covered my eyes in embarrassment, thinking, hoping, I had walked in on a stranger, but then I noticed the three fingered hand resting on the woman's thigh.

That was Daryl lying naked in bed with that woman.

My first reaction would have been to scream, or run, or hit something or someone, but I calmly cleared my throat.

The woman turned and shot up, revealing an attractive face with big brown eyes and a tumble of golden hair. I had seen her before, but I didn't know her name.

"I'm so sorry." The woman sputtered as she untangled herself from Daryl's loose embrace.

The woman flailed her hands around on the ground beside the mattress, collecting clothing, then gripping it all to her chest she wriggled herself up to a stand.

"He made me do it." She muttered as she edged her way past me and disappeared out the door and down the hallway, completely naked, with only the clothing in her hands to cover herself.

Gritting my teeth I slammed the door furiously behind her and stalked over to Daryl's sleeping form. He was snoring quite loudly, mouth slack, whiskered chin vibrating.

I poked him with my boot, still fuming about what I had just seen. "Daryl!" I growled down at him.

He whimpered a little, squeezed his eyes together and rolled to his side.

I kicked him harder. "Daryl!"

He opened one eye and looked up at me. "Mmm Beth?" He muttered.

"Yes." I snarled. "What the hell is goin' on here?"

He closed his eyes again and pressed his face into the mattress. "Uhh hhnn …You f-fucked…Negan?"

"What?"

"Uhn…she…she wanted to..."

"She wanted to what?" I growled, scanning over Daryl's naked body and then to the clothes in a neat pile by the door beside his crossbow and knife sheath. The room stank of whiskey, but oddly enough Daryl seemed to only smell of sweat.

"Fuck." Daryl muttered into the fabric of the mattress.

I took a step back from him, finding myself breathing deeply in anger and frustration, and looked to the door.

He thought I was some dumb little girl who didn't know how the world worked. He was wrong to underestimate me, and he was going to pay for this.

"Stay here!" I growled down at Daryl, before reaching towards his pile of clothes.

"w-where…" he muttered, struggling to lift his head.

"Just stay here" I cut him off firmly, tossing his clothes over his dazed looking face. "...and put some damn cloths on!"

The fifth floor was lavishly decorated with paintings and sculptures and richly embroidered rugs. It was lit up by a row of overhead chandeliers, glowing so brightly, you would think electricity was an easy thing to come by. It was such a ridiculously stark contrast to the world outside, Negan would be living in his own little fantasy land up here, behaving as if he were some sort of renaissance prince, ready to conquer the world.

I made my way down the hall, stepping over the plush carpet and passing by two ornately engraved doors . I figured those rooms belonged to Negan's wives. At the end of the hall two men stood outside wooden double doors with 'penthouse suite' etched into them.

The two ran their eyes over me with smiles on their faces as I approached. I tugged down the edges of Daryl's poncho in an effort to cover my thighs, and anything else that could be seen, and the men both sniggered at my movement.

Stopping before them, I cleared my throat and spoke as brave as my nerves would allow me. "I'm here to see Negan."

One of them nodded and without taking his eyes from me he knocked on the door to his side.

After a moment both of the doors were swung wide open revealing Negan in his untied satin robe.

"This better be fucking good. I had a pussy in each hand and a mouth on my dick." He had an angry snarl on his face as he looked at his men, but the his expression changed when he caught sight of me.

"Well if it isn't my little song bird." He stood back from the door and motioned me in with a wave of his arm and a slight bow. "Won't you come in?"

I forced a smile onto my face and then marched myself into the devil's lair. And a devils lair was exactly what it looked like.

The entire room glowed red like the pits of hell, lit by several lamps covered with blood red covered shades. The large room consisted of a sleeping area on a large platform, surrounded by thick curtains that circled the entire room. The bed was enormous. Two or three times the size of a double bed, and by the way the light gleamed off the sheets I would say they were made of satin.

There was a polished black stone bar to the side of the door. With an open crystal bottle half filled with copper coloured liquor, and three empty scotch glasses.

The living area was furnished with plush looking day beds with women I recognised as Negan's wives, looking red and flustered, lounging over them wearing something very similar to what I was wearing.

They watched me warily, shifting into upright positions as I stepped into the room.

Negan's heavy hot hands dropped onto my shoulders, making me flinch. "Can I take your…" he tugged at the fraying edges of Daryl's poncho "…whatever this is?"

I took a careful step away from him, gripping the poncho to my body.

"Can I talk to you." I eyed over his wives. "alone?"

With a grin Negan snapped his fingers and waved everyone to the door, and the women all clamoured to their feet and made for the doorway. They almost looked relieved as they disappeared through the doorway.

The door was pulled shut behind them by Negan's men, and Negan turned his focus back to me, while backing towards the bar. "can I get you a drink?"

A drink would help with my nerves right now, but I needed all my wits and willpower to do what I planned to do with Negan so I shook my head. "No thank you. I don't really drink."

He shrugged and stepped back towards me. "What do you want to talk to me about, honey?"

I closed my eyes and swallowed back my anticipation and then tugged Daryl's poncho up and over my head and let it drop to the floor.

"I decided you were right. Daryl isn't the man I thought he was, and he's not the one to keep me safe in this world. I need someone stronger. I need someone like you."

Negan eyed over me slowly, taking in my appearance

I had worn the fuchsia underwear set Mandy had given me. Although the pattern of satin and lace looked like blooded veins against my pale skin in this light. I had added the stocking and suspenders to the outfit for added effect. They had taken me nearly twenty minutes to figure out, but if sexy was what I was going for, they defiantly helped me achieve that.

"So I thought I should take you up on your offer. Keep myself safe."

"You look…good enough to eat." Negan said, licking his lips. "I knew you would look good in that colour."

"You got the underwear for me?"

He nodded, and stepped towards me, removing the underwear with his eyes. "Sure did. Looks like I guessed the size of your titties pretty well."

I fought the urge to cover myself. There was no point in being modest now. Instead I smiled and put my hands on my hips, trying to look sexy, and most likely failing. I had never had to look sexy for anyone before, except Daryl, and that always came easily. This was something much harder.

Negan bit down on his bottom lip, and dropped his hands onto my bare shoulders, and then ran them down over my breasts then to my waist and rested them on top of my own hands placed on my hips.

His eyes dropped from my breasts down to my feet. "Not sure about the footwear though. I probably should have got you some heels."

I looked down to my feet. "I like my boots. They give me a sense of…security."

He shrugged. "Whatever. I won't be fucking your feet."

He moved his hands to my jaw and tugged my face upwards, lifting me to my toes and angling my face so that our lips could meet and he roughly bit down on my bottom lip, and muffled my cry with his wet hungry mouth.

I pulled my head away from his hold and turned towards the door.

"Do you think you could tell those guys to leave…I'm a little self-conscious… I can…"I huffed nervously and tossed my shoulders. "…get a little noisy."

He stepped away from me and turned to the door. "Of course. I've heard you myself. Wouldn't want you to hold back."

Grinning to himself he crossed the room and three long strides and swung the door open.

"You two have an hour off." He turned back towards me and winked, and I smiled back at him. "Actually make that two hours."

One of the men peered in at me cautiously.

"You sure you'll be okay, sir?"

Negan chuckled boisterously and thumbed over his shoulder towards me. "Will I be okay? Look at her. She's the fucking size of a gold fish." He extended his hand and pointed over towards the bedside table, where his bat was resting. "And I've got my mistress here if she tries anything funny."

The men shrugged and stepped away from the door, and Negan slammed the door shut, shrugged his robe onto the floor, and marched across the room back to me.

In one sweep of his arm he collected me off the floor and carried me back towards the bed and dropped me down on the edge.

My heart thumped, my hairs stood on end, my hands trembled. I was really going to do this.

Negan crawled over me, pressing me back on to the smooth satin sheets. His hot and wet mouth smeared all over my chest and abdomen, while his hands fumbled at the clasp on my bra.

"Hold on there." I gasped, pushing his strong arms away from me. "I'm real nervous. We gotta take this slow."

I slipped out from underneath him, stood and then pushed his thighs down so he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Let me explore this a bit first. Get used to the idea."

I dropped down to my knees in front of him, pushing his knees to the side so I could get closer.

Negan tucked his hands behind his head and smiled at me, amused. "Explore away."

I licked my lips in anticipation, took a deep breath and moved my hands down along his thighs, heading towards his erect shaft.

I wrapped my left hand delicately around his shaft, slowly slid it down to the base, and carefully parted my lips, looking up at Negan gauging his response.

"Your hands are so soft." Negan murmured, pressing his eyes closed and leaning back on the bed. "Bet those lips will be too."

Mandy had said there were two types of women who survived in this world. The ones who killed, and the ones who used what was between their legs. Now I knew which one I was.

My right hand slid down my calf, slipped between the nylon stocking and the leather of my boot, and gripped around my knife.

"They are. The hands of a killer."

In one swift movement, I popped my knife open and slammed the blade into the base of Negan's shaft with a satisfying crunch.

That was just for fun.

Wailing, Negan grabbed for his bleeding shaft , and threw himself back on the bed.

I swiftly scrambled on to the bed beside him, took my blade in two hands and went to slam it into his head, but when I was only inches away, Negan blocked the motion with his hand, and my knife stabbed through his palm instead.

"You fucking, Bitch!" He shrilled, as he grabbed me by the shoulders and tossed me on to the bed straddling above me. "I was gonna fuck you in all your holes with my dick, but now it looks like I'll have to use your little fucking knife instead."

He wrestled with me, prying his fingers into my palm, the slick and sticky blood making it hard to get a good grip.

I curled my foot back, and with a grunt, sent my boot flying into his exposed and bleeding genitals, feeling and hearing the pop at the same time.

Negan let out an animal-like wail and dropped face first into the bed, sticking his behind up in the air and grabbing for the place I had just exploded with my boot.

I slipped out from under him, while he wailed into the pillow, and rocked form side to side in agony.

"You thought giving Daryl to that woman would hurt me, and I would get comfort in you?" I questioned him in a cool and level voice, as I stood on the floor to face him. "You just gave me a believable excuse to get close to you."

I stepped around the bed and grabbed the white swipe card sitting beside the cylindrical red lamp on the bedside table. And then turned back to the moaning naked figure on the bed. "I've cut my own wrists. I've been raped. I've lost my children. I've lost my family. There's nothing you could do that would make me lose my faith. Or my love."

He was struggling into an all fours position now, reaching to the side of the bed for his bat, his face twisted in a furious snarl.

I swung my blade out and embedded it into his arched throat, and beamed, delighted, when he fell back to the bed, fumbling at the blade with his blood soaked fingers.

"You had such a grand scheme to get me to fuck you." I stomped my boot into his exposed genitals one more time for my own pleasure, and he continued to choke and gasp taking one hand to his shrivelled blood drained shaft, while the other tried to pull at the knife in his throat.

"So tell me." I sing-songed in my sweetest possible voice. "Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

I wanted to stay there and watch him slowly fade away, and then turn into a walker, and then I could kill him all over again, but I knew I didn't have the time, so I grabbed up Daryl's poncho, slipped it over my head, and left the gasping, bleeding, over-confident bastard laying on his oversized bed, choking to death on his own blood.

The fifth floor hallway was still empty when I entered it the only sign of life coming from the flickering light of the chandelier. I carefully closed the door to the penthouse behind me, and then wiped away the finger smears of blood with the edge of Daryl's poncho, trying to hide the evidence. With any luck, no-one would check on him for a few hours, when Daryl and I would be long gone.

I didn't need to kill Negan. My life wasn't in danger. Daryl's life wasn't in danger. It was only our minds that he was messing with, and that didn't really warrant a death. But I hated him for what he did to Daryl, and for trying to manipulate us, and for keeping us prisoner.

I killed him because I wanted to.

I tugged down on the poncho, and stuck my blood covered hands inside, and scurried off down the hall and towards the stairs, only stopping for a minute to listen to the laughter coming from Negan;s wives rooms. They either didn't hear anything, or they did, and they were celebrating.

I turned into the stairwell and galloped down the stairs at first, taking them two at a time, keeping in time with my thudding heartbeat. The speed was so fast, that I was sure if I didn't keep moving my feet, I would end up tumbling down the stairs head first. It was only the voices echoing up the stairwell that made me slow. I took a few deep breaths to control my panting and then casually descended the next flight of stairs.

Two of Negan's men, different from those guarding the door, had a single girl pressed up against the concrete wall. They reeked of alcohol, and they looked as if they were doing things to her that were better left for the bedroom, but I tried not to examine the scene to closely.

With my eyes down I slipped past them and made my way to the first floor entry.

This hall was much darker than the fifth floor. With only a handful of candles lighting the way. Satisfied the hall was clear, I hurtled down it and straight to Daryl's room, swiped the card and pushed the door open.

The room was dark, the candle had gone out. The only light was a dull beam coming from the open door that cast across Daryl sitting on the mattress, eyes downcast and looking sullen. He had re-dressed somewhat. His jeans were on, belt unbuckled. His shirt and vest were on, open and unbuttoned. His boots were on but unlaced. And He had his bow across his lap and his knife back in its sheath at his hip.

I had left my knife in Negan's throat and my handgun up in the room on the fourth floor. This was all we were going to have to defend ourselves with once we got out.

Daryl looked up at me with dazed and confused eyes. Whatever they had given him to make him go to bed with that women hadn't entirely worn off yet.

I dropped before him and rapidly helped him tie up his laces.

"I didn't fuck 'er, Beth." He muttered, keeping his shadowed eyes down.

"I know." I replied, tugging at his laces forcefully.

"I couldn't of, I was too messed up."

"I know." I repeated. "I read the signs. This room doesn't smell like anyone's been havin' sex in it. You didn't have a room key. You don't snore. You would never let yourself get so drunk that you wouldn't respond to someone moving next to you, or opening the door, or slamming the door. You would never sleep with your weapons so far away. And you would never sleep with another woman."

Daryl smiled as he listened to everything I had picked up on, and I returned the smile. "Are you gonna be able to run?"

Daryl nodded slowly, and then mumbled. "…Negan?"

He only said one word but I knew what he was asking.

"I didn't have sex with him." I grabbed him by his hands and tugged him to his feet, steadying him as he swayed like a weak and spindly birch in the wind. "But I sure as hell fucked him."

Daryl's eyes creased as he looked over me from head to toe, his eyes lingering on the sheer black nylon that covered my knees. "What the hell did you do?"

"Never mind." I said as I picked up his crossbow, attached his knife sheath to his belt and then tugged on the hem of his open shirt in an effort to get him to follow.

"Just a sec." Daryl held up his bandaged hand and I imagined he would've been holding up his index finger. If he had one. He hunched himself over, pressing his hands to his knees, and then his shoulders began heaving. I knew what was coming, and took a step back just before the lumpy stream of puke shot out of his mouth and onto the already filthy floor.

When he had finished hurling, he spat and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, and grabbed for an almost empty bottle of water from the ground, and swirled it around his mouth. After spitting it out he extended his bandaged hand out to me and flicked his good fingers up, indicating he wanted his crossbow back.

"You gonna be okay to use it?" I asked cautiously, eyeing over his stomach contents on the floor.

"I will now." He took the bow, and with a crack of his neck and a stretch of his shoulders followed me out the door, closing it behind him to hide evidence we had been and gone.

We made our way quickly down the stairwell, being extra careful with Daryl who still swayed a little, although he tried his best to hide it.

I stopped short when we got to the glass door that led out to the garage, staring at the two men with rifles on their shoulders leaning against the wall by the door. I had forgotten to consider all aspects of this escape, like getting through the guards at the gate, but there was no turning back now.

Silently I pushed back on Daryl's chest urging him up the stairs.

We exited onto the ground floor, and scampered through the hallway avoiding the foyer area and made our way towards the laundry room stairway.

As I had hoped, the second entry to the garage was not manned, but I could still hear voices resonating through the glass panelled door.

Taking over, Daryl pushed my back against the wall and crawling forward with his bow at the ready. He watched the garage for a moment and then reached up and tugged lightly on the handle.

He turned back to me with concern on his face. "locked." He whispered.

I reached into my boot and pulled out Negan's swipe card. He beamed at me proudly and then took it from me, swiped it on the panel, tucked the card back into his pocket and then slowly, carefully pulled the handle down fully.

"When I open the door, you run for the Nissan. Got it?"

I nodded looking to the silver coloured truck to the side of the laundry entrance, hidden mostly in shadow. I readied myself, pushing up on my toes with my fingers to the ground.

He pushed the door open, and I slipped through the narrow opening, scurried along the concrete floor and then flattened myself on the ground once I had reached my target.

Seconds later Daryl was moving in beside me his breathing quick, but low and steady.

I tried to control my own breathing, hoping it wouldn't echo through the almost empty parking garage and alert anyone to our presence.

From our position we could only see half of the garage. We couldn't see the entrance to the main stairwell, or the outside gate, but there were plenty of vehicles parked to cover our path to escape.

We both listened carefully to the voices that travelled through the open space, bouncing off concrete and steel alike. They were happy voices. Chatty voices. As far as I could tell, Negan hadn't been found yet.

We moved carefully from car to car, keeping low to the ground, with Daryl behind me watching my back. When we came up to the view of two men leaning against a red suburban, smoking cigarettes and playing cards on the hood. Daryl carefully pressed the bow into my chest.

Without talking he communicated to me, pointing to the man who was boasting and slapping cards down on the hood frantically. Daryl pointed to his own temple, and I knew he wanted me to shoot him. He held up a finger telling me to wait and then he made a retreat, pulling out his knife as he made his way to the car nearest to the red suburban.

I aimed the bow, struggling a little with the weight that I had not had to carry for some time, and took in a deep anticipatory breath waiting for Daryl to make his move.

I saw Daryl's shadow move from behind one of the men, and I saw the glint of steel in his hand.

As Daryl lunged for the man I shot the other one with an arrow straight through the temple, right where Daryl had told me.

Daryl carefully caught both the men and lowered them softly to the ground and waved me over.

I kept low and joined him by the bodies while he collected their weapons. He tucked a handgun into the waist of his jeans, looped the rifle over my shoulder and then took back his crossbow and reloaded it with the arrow I had just shot.

We moved from there to another car which gave us a clear view of the gate, where we could see two figures pacing back and forth. I could recognise one, and judging by the reserved look on Daryl's face he recognised him too.

"Wally?" I whispered.

Daryl nodded solemnly.

We crept forward keeping low until we had a clear view of the men and the gate. There was nothing between us but open air. There was nowhere for Daryl to hide and use his knife, and if we fired a gun it would alert everyone to our presence.

Daryl swallowed hard and then made the risky move of stepping out in the open and firing an arrow into the man standing beside Wally and immediately reloading the crossbow with another.

The man dropped heavily to the ground and Wally pulled up his rifle and aimed it towards Daryl hesitating as recognition dawned on him.

His eyes scanned over to me and he lowered his weapon slightly, the he glanced back to Daryl who had the bow reloaded and aimed. Noticeably sighing, Wally tapped himself on the shoulder with two fingers and held his rifle up into the air signifying defeat.

As if they shared a secret language that Daryl understood, Daryl aimed the bow and shot him straight in the shoulder.

Groaning, Wally stumbled backwards and slumped down against the wall, grabbing hold of his shoulder, locking the shaft of the arrow between his fingers.

"Good shot." He grunted, looking up to Daryl and wincing in pain.

With a furrowed brow and a mouth twisted into a grimace, Daryl stepped past Wally, pulled out the swipe card from his pocket and swiped it over the reader on the gate.

"Still think you should come with is." Daryl muttered forlornly down to his friend.

Wally smiled and waved him off dismissively.

"Told you. No place for an old fella like me out there."

A sudden panicked yelling echoing through the garage interrupted their moment of friendship.

"That blonde bitch stabbed Negan!" Someone cried.

"Guard the gate!" Came another furious voice.

Reaching back, Daryl grabbed my arm and tugged me towards the gate that was still slowly rolling open.

"You got no chance on foot." Wally grunted. I turned to him to see he was holding something small and metallic out towards Daryl.

Daryl took it and then glanced back down the driveway towards the thundering sounds of boots on concrete, and then rested them on the motorcycle that had brought us to this place.

We both gave Wally a rushed but grateful goodbye tap on the shoulder and then raced towards the bike.

While Daryl jumped on and started her up, I tucked the rifle into my shoulder and let loose on the men who appeared around the bend, spraying them with bullets, while they yelled and cussed, and dived behind vehicles for cover.

The bike roared to life, and Daryl backed it out and spun it towards the now closing gate. I tossed the now empty rifle to the ground, and threw a leg over the seat, and gripped firmly on to Daryl's vest as he took off with a sharp jerk and raced to the small opening left by the closing gate.

Hearing the pattering of gun fire and the roar of engines fire up behind me I squeezed my eyes shut, and dug my face into Daryl's back, realising that if either of us were to be shot in this chase, it would be me.

I felt the bike tip as I assumed we moved up the ramp, and then I felt the bike sway as if we were turning.

The cool night air, whipped against the bare space on my thighs not covered by stocking or poncho, adding to the chill of fear.

I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to see how close I was to being shot. Daryl, obviously thinking the same things I was, began swerving the bike from side to side, making me dig my knees into his hips so I wasn't tossed from the bike.

My hands, wrapped around his chest, could feel the furious beating of his heart that was met by my own, and with my ear on his back I could also hear what sounded like him cussing furiously.

I opened my eyes and turned my head back to see the bright headlights disappearing behind us, we were getting a good lead on them, and I let myself relax a little as I came to realise their shots couldn't reach me from so far.

Daryl was still cussing loudly, audible over the roar of the engine. I had now begun to realise what the problem was. The smell of gas burned through my nostrils, and I could feel the wet splash against my knees.

We were losing gas, and fast judging by how wet my legs were becoming.

After a few hundred yards, the bike spluttered and choked and shook, and Daryl's mouth called out fouler and louder than ever over the struggling motor, then the bike began to slow, and suddenly stopped jerking me forward.

Daryl kicked his legs off, grabbed up his crossbow and tugged me off the bike with such a force that a stumbled to my knees.

"Sumbitch shot the tank out." Daryl growled as he dragged me back up and pulled me through the matrix of abandoned cars that spread out ahead of us.

The first car Daryl approached had a living corpse in it that threw itself against the glass with a splatter of gore when he touched the handle. We left them and moved ahead.

The second car Daryl tried, he pulled open the door and a skeletal grey body tumbled out and fell to the ground with a crack. Daryl stepped over it, dropped into the seat and tried the engine. Nothing. Not even a click.

He sighed and looked up at me.

"I reckon, they'll all be dead." He slipped out of the seat and scanned over the mass of cars ahead of us. Then down the embankment to the open grass that disappeared into tree growth about a hundred yards out.

"Run for the trees?" He suggested with uncertainty.

I shook my head. "Won't make it." I reached into the car over him, and popped the lever. Then tugged on his shirt to get him to follow me to the trunk.

I climbed in first while Daryl nervously watched the road, then he jumped in behind me and pulled the top down, winding the latch with his trusty red rag.

We shifted into position, our backs against the side of the trunk, our legs interlocked. It was just like how we had hid from the herd those many months ago, but this time I felt like we were in even greater danger.

Just like many months ago, Daryl left the trunk open a crack, and aimed his crossbow outwards, watching and waiting, and just like many months ago, I tugged Daryl's knife from his sheath and clutched it to my chest and waited for the sounds of engines to approach.

It was mere seconds later when we heard the cars drive through slowly and voices calling out over the sounds of the engines.

"That's the bike right there." A voice called.

"You reckon they made for the trees?" another called.

"Maybe, or maybe they took one of the cars." The first voice responded.

"I didn't see a car take off. Maybe they're hiding in a car." A third voice called.

My heart dropped, and Daryl's eyes grew wide with terror as he watched intensely through the opening.

"You lot check the trees. You lot check the cars. We'll drive on ahead."

I heard grunts of acknowledgement and then a car drive away. Judging by the glowing light that could still be made out through the opening there were still one or two cars left behind.

I gripped the knife even tighter in my hand, and braced my other hand on the side of the trunk, ready to slam the blade into whatever opened the top.

Daryl and I sat there frozen in a state of panic, not even daring to breathe as we waited for what came next.

We heard mumbles and grunts and shifting sounds as the men searched the nearby cars. We heard the familiar raspy groans of walkers that were silenced with a wet slicking sound, and at one stage the trunk rocked from side to side indicting someone was in the car, but no one opened the trunk.

"There's no one here. My bet is they drove on out of here. That'd be the smartest move." A voice called

"A'right. Let's catch up with the others."

I heard the sound of doors slamming, of two engines coming to life, and then slowly fade and disappear along with the beams of light.

I breathed for the first time in what seemed like forever, waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and then smiled at Daryl. He was still frowning and looking through the gap cautiously.

"You think they're gone?" I whispered.

Daryl pressed the finger of his good hand to his lips, telling me to be silent. So I obeyed, shifting my grip on his knife and watching through the opening.

We had been sitting there for hours, listening to the sound of frogs and crickets chirping through the open air, and watching as the night slowly got lighter. Every part of me was aching from sitting so still, in the same position, for so long. I wriggled about and pushed my feet into Daryl's side, groaning softly at the relief that movement brought. His steely eyes turned from the opening in the trunk and glared at me, looking kind of stunned, like he had just been woken from a dream, or a nightmare.

"It's been hours." I whispered. "I think we're safe."

Daryl's eyes studied my face, looking blank and bewildered.

"You okay?" I asked, remembering not long before he had been drugged, and then forced to fight and then to run for his life.

"Yeah." He muttered. "Just kinda pinchin' myself that we might actually be a'right."

The tension in his arms and shoulders softened a little and he dropped the crossbow down to his lap, pressed his eye right up to the gap and the looked back to me, a small smile tugging at his lips.

He sighed and stretched an arm up as far as the top would let him, and then reached towards the latch and began unwinding his rag.

Grinning, my mind filling with devilish thoughts, I lifted my leg and pressed my boot against his shoulder to still his movement.

"What's up?" he queried raising a curious eyebrow and nodding down to my boot pressed into his shoulder.

Biting gently on my lip I shifted onto my side and then wriggled myself forward, pushing his knees apart so I could slip between them, and prowled my way forward over his exposed chest.

His eyes watched me carefully, warily, as I moved in toward him, pressing my lips to his and lingering for a moment, inhaling the familiar scent of sweat and cigarette with a slight hint of whiskey. It was enough to drive out the images of Negan's naked form that haunted my memories. I pulled back slowly looking up into his wide eyes.

"You know." I murmured softly allowing the words to drip from my lounge like sweet syrup. "Ever since that night we hid in the trunk, I've wondered if it's possible to…do it…in one."

His eyes dropped down to my lips, and he swallowed, before flinching away from me, blinking and looking annoyed.

"Beth!" He cried incredulously, pushing me away with his good hand. "This is life and death, girl."

I shook my head gently, and grabbing him by his vest tugged him back towards me.

"No it's not. Its' just life. We made it."

His eyes darted around the dark and cramped interior of the trunk, starting to heat up now as our breaths met and heated the air, and the rising sun heated the outside of the car. "What is it with you and wantin' to do it in mothafuckin shoe boxes?"

I shrugged my shoulders and blinked innocently. "Well…you enjoyed it in the car, right?"

He scoffed and smiled. "Yeah, 'course I enjoyed it. But woulda been better in a bed."

"And when do you think we're gonna find a bed again?"

He sighed and chuckled gently, looking down to my fingers tangling through his greying chest hair. "I promise. First thing we do when we get out of 'ere is find a bed. Even before we find food or water."

I slipped my hand into the palm of his bandaged hand prying his loosened grip away from his crossbow, and then pulled the hand to my chest.

"Feel this." I urged, pressing his hand flat against my thundering heart. It hadn't let up since I had gone up to Negan's penthouse. My mind was reeling from what I had done, my whole body still trembling with anxiety and feeling light with adrenaline overdose.

"And feel this." I took his other hand and slid it under the poncho, pushing it down against my belly, slipping into my underpants and leaving it tucked between my legs.

"Holy Christ, girl. It's like Niagara falls down there." He gingerly moved his fingers around examining the state of the inside of my underwear. "What the fuck were you thinkin' of while we were runnin' for our lives?"

I grinned up at him, and squeezed my thighs together, trapping his hand.

"I was thinkin' of gettin' away from hell. I was thinkin' of how wherever we're gonna end up, it's gonna be great, if you're there, and he's not. I was thinkin' of how much I love and want to be with you. And I was thinkin' about how cute you look when you're afraid."

"I weren't afraid." He replied smugly.

"Yes you were. Pussy."

"Pussy am I?" he cocked a brow, and dropped his eyes down to where his hand disappeared under the poncho.

"Uhuh."

"You want me to show you a pussy?"

"Yes please, Mr Dixon." I murmured, unclenching my thighs, allowing him to move once more.

The movement of his fingers, slipping through the slick wetness, downward and then inward was expected, but I still jumped at the sudden stretching sensation as they drove into me.

With his bandaged hand he grasped the nape of my neck and tilted my head back so he could kiss my exposed throat. "Is this…" He pressed his fingers firmly into my tender walls, and I gasped as the pressing sensation turned into a throbbing pulse. "…what you're lookin' for?"

"Uhuh." I uttered, moving my hands to his neck, and pulling my body hard up against his.

He dropped his hold on my neck, letting me tuck my head into his shoulder, and then removed his hand from my underwear and ran both hands over my backside, then grabbed at the hem of the poncho.

"Let's get this off." He tugged it up and over my head, balled it up and tucked it beside him, dug hid hand into his back, pulled out the handgun and rested it on top of the poncho and then let his eyes drift over my underwear.

"One day─ but not fuckin' now─ you're gonna tell me what this was all 'bout."

I nodded and smiled and moved in to kiss him, parting my lips and moving towards his mouth, enjoying the moistness of his breath as it blew gently over mouth and chin.

While his tongue and lips pressed against mine, both his hands moved back to my hips, and slid downward, catching under the elastic straps of the suspenders.

With a tug and a tearing sound, he ripped the clasps through the nylon, and let the stocking spring down to my knees.

I lifted my hips allowing him to tug my underpants down, and then bent my knees carefully to the side so he could slip them down and over my boots, and then let them drop to the dusty carpeted floor of the trunk.

My lips left his and moved through the whiskers on his chin and then to his neck, and then to his collar and chest, biting, kissing, licking, as my hands tugged at his loosened belt, and then at his fly, and then ventured inside to drag the length of him out.

He groaned as I clenched my hand around him, and slid my hand up and down slowly and firmly, relishing in how hard he had become so quickly.

I pulled my knees in towards me, pushing my back into the air, and hitting my backside on the roof of the car with a thud that caused the whole car to shake.

"We gotta try to stay quiet." He murmured. "still might be walkers 'round."

Nodding in acknowledgment, I bent my knees and pressed them to the side of his chest, and then using a hand to guide my way, pressed his end to my opening and slid my way down, gasping and groaning softly as he moved through the bands of aroused muscle.

Watching me with intense eyes, creased at the sides, he gripped my backside firmly in both hands, and forced me down fully on to his hips, letting out a strangled groan as we both adjusted to the sensation of him being fully sheathed within me.

Without shifting his gaze form mine, his warm and rough hands trailed up my back, down over my shoulders and then tugged the straps of my bra down, allowing my breasts to spill out of the cups.

Then his hands moved to the middle of my back and pulled me forward so that my chest was pressed firmly up against his, our heartbeats thudding together, his warm breath, brushing against my neck, just as mine did to his.

Moving his hands back to my hips, he guided the slow and careful movements as our hips rocked and the length of him moved inside me.

I wrapped my arms across his broad shoulders, tucking a hand behind his back and then tangling the fingers of my other hand through his hair as I tugged his mouth into my neck.

He bit down on me, wet and gentle, as I moaned into his ear. He too let out a gusty moan against my skin, as I felt myself beginning to convulse around him.

The trunk was rocking from side to side, as I rolled my hips back and forth over him, the movements getting firmer and quicker, and my moans and groans intensifying and getting harder to control as the shudders and convulsions thrummed and twisted and burned through every part of me.

Desperately he began clawing against the wet and clammy skin of my lower back, tugging me forward, building up the friction and heat where the skin of our chests met.

I threw my head back as I felt myself come completely undone, knocking my forehead into the top of the trunk, I let out a muffled cry of both ecstasy and pain, continuing to twitch my hips back and forth, while he drove up into me, drawing out the peak of my pleasure.

"Fuck." Daryl grunted, slipping his hands below my backside and lifting me quickly into the air.

I dropped down heavily on top of him, panting and puffing , and listening to his short sharp groans as he finished himself off all over my backside.

Between my jagged gasps, I fluttered gentle kisses over his neck and jaw, waiting for him to gain control over his own breathing. When he was done he turned his head to the side, so I could just make out one blue eye.

"That weren't all that bad." He muttered, smirking.

I tilted my head back so I could see his grinning face. "Knew you would like it."

He sighed and then tapped me affectionately on the backside.

"Fun and games are over now. We're all about survival from here on out. Got it?"

I nodded and ran a finger over his chin, and tugged gently on his whiskers. "Until we find a bed?"

He chuckled softly. "Yeah, 'til we find a bed."

A/N: So yeah, this was actually one of the hardest chapters I've written so far. Obviously, I wanted to make all of you think Beth was going to do it with Negan, but writing Beth being all sexual with Negan actually turned my stomach, so I don't think I was all that convincing in my facade. Then I had to write action, and I hate writing action. Then I threw in a sex scene, that would probably be totally unrealistic after nearly being killed, but I really, really wanted them to have sex in a trunk ever since watching 'still', plus I thought you guys needed a reward for making it through all that horrible angst.

Anyhoo I might revisit this chapter and fix some little flaws up now the initial anxiety of getting it published has past.

Thanks for sticking with it, I hope you are happy with how Beth handled the 'situation'. (she looks so badass in the new trailer! I was even tempted to make her escape the hotel though the elevator shaft, but it didn't work for a number of reasons)

Please feel free to call me a bitch in the reviews for putting you through that hell ;)

P.S some slight hell to follow…nothing you cant handle.