Chapter 28

I was becoming accustomed to my new private space although it hardly ever felt truly mine. Negan had given me a small room with a bed, tiny closet, and some furniture. I sat in it now on the one item I was most thankful to have - the bed. Sure, I could've lived well enough with my cot, and privacy wasn't too hard to find here, either; I was mostly left alone before, anyway. But having personal space that no one else could intrude on (well, almost no one) was a commodity that I enjoyed having so far, and a bed with a decent mattress had been the cherry on top. I could now see why people were prone to being sucked in by Negan. When he wanted to be, he could be fairly generous. His trick, however, was that his generosity came at a price, and some were more willing to pay than others.

So far, my price hadn't been too high. I watched over the workers of the compound, made sure every task was managed and complete, and even helped where I could which was almost always. It felt odd suddenly being in charge of people I had worked beside for so long, especially Suzanne. I was more comfortable stepping in to give aid rather than telling them what needed to be done. The other Saviors didn't appreciate me for doing that, but I learned ignoring them usually solved the problem and kept me from worrying about what they thought or saw. As far as I was concerned, I wasn't doing anything wrong.

A week ago, I went on my first run. It was quick and short lived, which was rather disappointing, but the temporary freedom had been invigorating…at first. Granted, I had gone along with Dwight and a couple others, and they kept a close eye on me during that time, but not having a certain dominating presence constantly by my side was like heavy clouds finally parting to show a little sun.

The trip had felt off, though, and not because it was something new to me, but because of the atmosphere with those who I went with. It had been Dwight, Theodore, a woman named Lydia, and me. Theodore and Lydia had flirted a lot, talking to Dwight here and there with me being mostly ignored, which suited me just fine, but I kept getting this strange feeling from Dwight; like he wasn't totally there or he had something else on his mind. He would glance at me every so often, giving me these long, lingering looks that made me feel uncomfortable, and I tried to figure him out, see where his head was at. It wasn't until that one and only night we had settled down to get some rest that I found out what was on his mind. And I'm still not sure I should believe what he said.

Dwight and I were sitting around a small campfire, warming our hands as Theodore and Lydia made themselves more comfortable in one of the two tents set up. She and I were supposed to share one of them, but that idea had apparently flown out of the window when Theodore decided to shove his tongue down her throat. Gross.

I'd had a weird feeling all day since hitting the road with the three of them. Dwight, who was sarcastically abrasive and prone to long sullen silences, seemed less contemptuous today and more apathetic. Any conversation Theodore or Lydia tried to start with him had been met with short responses or random half-hearted laughs. I wondered what was up with him. I looked at him across the fire, trying to gauge what he was thinking before I spoke out loud. I had been mostly quiet on this trip so far, and I didn't want to draw negative attention to myself, but I was too curious to stay quiet.

"Are you okay, Dwight?" I asked. "You don't seem like yourself."

He looked up at me, slightly startled and then let out a snort. "How would you know what my typical self is like?"

There's the Dwight I knew.

"Well," I started, "typically, you aren't this quiet or indifferent. Figured something might be up, but I guess I should've just minded my own business."

I took a drink of water from the flask I had brought and closed the top. I was ready for bed.

"Wait," Dwight called as I started to stand up. I slowly sat back down, crossing my arms and bringing my knees up to my chest to keep in the warmth. I cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm sorry. I know you were just…," he gave me that doleful look again, "trying to help or whatever."

"Or whatever," I agreed. I was in a bad mood now.

"Listen, I've just got a lot of shit on my mind." He picked up a stick and started poking at the fire. We both watched the flames flicker as tiny bits of flaming ash floated in the air.

"About Sherry?" I prodded. Dwight caught my eye again, but his expression didn't look impassive anymore. It looked a bit annoyed.

Way to go, Everly.

"She's part of it, yeah," Dwight answered to my surprise. He shoved the stick into the fire with quick flick of his wrist and held my gaze again, not letting it go. "What I'm thinking, though, mostly has to do with you."

"Wh-what?" I was confused. "What do you mean?"

Dwight smiled then. A small, sad smile that was uncharacteristic of him. I began to feel scared, and I straightened up my posture.

"You're a walking fucking failure staring me straight in the face every time I look at you." His answer astounded me.

I relaxed again, not really sure how to take his reply. My wonderment must've been obvious because he went on. "I don't like you. I think you know that. Shit, I'm sure pretty much everyone knows that…but do you know why? Have you ever wondered about that?"

"Sure, I guess," I swallowed. Dwight's dislike for me was nothing new, just as he claimed. I had known the first time I'd ever laid eyes on him. "And there's no need to wonder why. I think the reason is pretty obvious."

"Is it, though?" He countered. He brought his knees up to hook his arms around them, and leaned forward, the fire further illuminating his damaged face. "What valid reason would I have for disliking you? You've never done anything to me, at least nothing long-lasting. I think we've both said hurtful things to each other… And all those people you guys killed… I didn't give a shit about them."

"Alright," I said. I wanted to argue that I hadn't killed anyone at all, but making that point would've been wasted breath. He'd already said he didn't care. "Then why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you, Everly," Dwight sighed, looking down at the flames again. "Although it certainly does feel like it sometimes. You're stubborn, you say what's on your mind whether it's necessary or not, and you're honest; maybe too honest. You call out shit for the way it is and while I would've really admired someone like you before… I don't so much now."

"I can see how that makes sense. Negan doesn't really let anyone around him have original thoughts. At least, not out loud," I sympathized with him.

"Fuck Negan," Dwight snapped.

His reply had me a bit startled and I twisted to look behind me at the tent Theodore and Lydia occupied. When I heard their soft voices still murmuring to one another, I knew they hadn't heard Dwight's outburst. I turned back to him to give him an indignant look.

"How stupid are you?" I demanded. I really wanted to know.

"About as stupid as you," he countered, but the bashful look on his face let me know he wouldn't make the same mistake again. "Listen, it isn't what Negan thinks that I give a shit about. He can do whatever the hell he wants to me or anyone else. I couldn't care less. It's Sherry. It's always been Sherry. And as soon as he chose you to take back with us, I knew it would be the same fucking thing all over again. I'd be watching exactly what happened to me and her unfold right before my eyes like some sick, twisted playback."

"Wh-How?" The perplexity I had been feeling throughout this entire conversation was intensifying. What did I have to do with his and Sherry's relationship? How was I connected to that in any way at all?

"Because I knew he wasn't taking you back as some sort of leverage even though the excuse fit just as well as any other. He did it simply because he wanted to, because he liked the way you looked and what you could offer him; the position of being another one of his wives. And I was helpless to do anything about it. It was like seeing Sherry being taken away for a second time and just standing by to let it happen."

"Why did you let it happen?" I ventured after a beat.

Dwight didn't stir at first. He stared into the fire, watching it swirl and flick in the night air. I thought maybe I had lost him and resigned myself to never knowing the answer to my question because, honestly, this sort of heart-to-heart was never going to happen again, but then his eyes caught mine.

"What choice did I have?" His whispers were just audible enough for me to catch. I put my legs down so I could lean forward to hear him better. "I tried to take her away. We got far, and they gave up looking soon enough…but we had to go back. I had to take her back because her life was more important than mine. And I'd already let her lose what she fought so hard to keep… She did it on her own, became Negan's wife. She did it to save me and I was too much of a coward to tell her no."

"I have a feeling she wouldn't have let you."

"No," he smiled then, shaking his head. Then slowly, the smile faded. "She wouldn't have."

"I'm really sorry for what happened to you," I said after an extended hesitation.

"There isn't anything to be sorry about," Dwight replied. "I took my punishment and I paid the price for my mistakes, saving Sherry in the process. I'd do it the same way if I had the chance to do it over again."

His words reminded me of Negan's after our intimate conversation. He told me he would have done everything the same way if he had to; killing my friends, taking me and Daryl, torturing us, securing his empire… To him, he never made any mistakes. I was looking forward to the day when he would catch on that he might've made too many and it was too late to do anything about it. I hoped I was part of that realization.

"Do you ever…?" I started to ask, not quite sure how I wanted to phrase my question. "I mean, do you ever think about…being different? Finding another way to live or…get out?"

"All the time," his statement was short and to the point, no embellishments needed. With that simple answer, Dwight had pretty much just told me that there was no way out; for him and certainly not for me or anyone else. He and his ex-wife had both gotten close enough to Negan and he had made it out once before. I figured he would know better than anyone.

"Well, that's a fucking buzz kill," I responded and sighed. The whole secret ops mission Daryl and I had planned with Rick seemed frivolous now. Rick had been right; there wasn't a damn thing we could do and maybe not ever.

"I heard most of the conversation you had with Rick and Daryl in that office. Enough to surmise what the point of it was," Dwight spoke up suddenly.

I knew my eyes were wide and I felt frozen on the spot. I became acutely aware of my surroundings almost instantaneously: the wind blowing through the trees, the snap and crunch of twigs and leaves which sounded suspiciously like approaching footsteps, the sudden quiet from the tent behind my back, the stillness of the creatures around our campsite…

"Relax," I heard Dwight's voice break through the terror laden fog that had clouded my mind. "To be honest, I didn't want to mention anything to you about this because I didn't think you'd trust or believe me…but the night Carl was there I told him I could do something to help."

"Help us with what?" My lips felt numb.

"Getting away from Negan," he whispered. He quickly glanced at the tent behind me before getting up and relocating to sit by my side. He lowered his voice further. "I know of other communities that are tired of being beaten down and dragged through the mud by Negan. I know one in particular that has numbers and may be willing to join any resistance that might form. I can be the initiator. I can speak with their leader; work out if this is something tangible that can happen. And I can also provide any intel to Rick, no worries on your end."

"I think you need to get away from me," I sputtered out and sprang up from my spot, zigzagging to the truck so I could lock myself inside. My shaking hand gripped the handle as Dwight's slammed against the window, blocking my way inside.

"I know what this seems like and I get that it's nearly impossible for you to trust a damn word that I speak, but I need you to know that this is not a trick. Negan is not involved, and if he was, I'd already be fucking dead."

"Move your hand from the door," I demanded, uncertain.

"No, not until you hear me out. Then I'll let you sleep on it and decide if you think I'm telling the truth."

I looked up at him, afraid that if I agreed I would suddenly be illuminated by headlights and I would be in the clearing all over again, except this time, it would be my head Lucille would caress. I was so petrified, I could almost hear Negan's whistle echoing through the woods, and it was so clear that I wasn't sure if it actually was real or just my imagination. I felt the tears forming in my eyes.

"The Kingdom," Dwight revealed, ignoring my distress. "I know the leader, Ezekiel, well. Well enough to know that his patience is running thin with Negan. If I can get him and another large community, Hilltop, to agree to start a mutiny, I know others will follow; namely yours. From there, even more will join. It'll be a snowball effect until Negan won't know what the fuck hit him."

"Move your hand, Dwight," I requested again, my voice no more than a whimper.

"I know there's a lot to gamble on, but I've been tracking this shit for months. This can work if we play it smart and quick. There's even a few of us on the inside who-"

"Move your fucking hand, Dwight!" I screamed at him. I didn't care who heard, even the walkers. I'd almost welcome that over any other prospect at the moment.

Dwight's face hardened and he pressed his lips together as he slowly removed his hand from the window. I yanked the door open, scrambling inside and closing it behind me. I latched all the locks before finding my way to the backseat to lie down, feeling trapped and scared. I lay wide awake all night.

Remembering it still sent chills up my spine; almost more than recalling anything else that had happened to me in this place. It had to be a front of some kind. Negan definitely knew all about the conversation between Daryl, Rick, and I. The whole idea of having such a compromising exchange so close to the enemy was a stupid mistake to begin with. I had a terribly bad feeling about it then and it was evident now that my intuition had been screaming at me to pay attention to that feeling. But what could I do now? And how had Carl responded to Dwight when he supposedly spoke to him about wanting to "help"?

A soft knocking at my door had me jumping to my feet, but my heartbeat slowed a tad when I realized that less than a handful of people here would ever knock on my door like that. I crossed the tiny room and opened it a crack to see Daryl standing on the other side.

"You're back!" I beamed at him, throwing open the door all the way to envelop him in a hug. His arms wrapped around my middle as we held each other for a few moments.

It was always a bit scary to think of him out on a run. Not necessarily because he was out in the world where things could be most dangerous and was prone to run into any type of persons, but because of who he was with. I didn't trust any of these people here. Not all of them, anyway, and it became worrisome when Daryl was forced to go out alone with them. Since he'd taken on the job, I was always afraid he'd come back seriously hurt or not at all.

"I'm here," he replied with a smile. "And I've missed ya."

He started to lean down, but I pushed away from him awkwardly and pretended like I hadn't noticed. I considered telling him about my discussion with Dwight, but it didn't feel like the appropriate time. And Negan hadn't approached me so far… I needed to think on it more before I mentioned anything and dragged him into it. I walked over to the small fridge I had and pulled it open, taking out two sodas.

"Would you like some? I bet you're dying for one," I commented as I sat casually on my bed, trying hard not to meet his eyes.

"Nah, I'm okay," he replied reluctantly. He was still standing in the doorway with his hands at his sides and a defeated look on his face. I was cringing hard on the inside as I placed the sodas on the nightstand by my bed.

"So…you wanna come in or…?"

"I'm thinkin' maybe I should go," Daryl flicked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Okay… Well, come see me later." I nodded and he started to turn away but he stopped and let out a sigh. He turned back around to walk into my room and slammed the door behind him. "Daryl?"

He stomped up to me, his mouth a hard line of determination. As I started to get up from the bed, he put both hands on my hips to pull me up against him and his mouth claimed mine before I could take another breath. Just like the first kiss I had with him, he was passionate and rough, but there was just enough gentleness to it to set the fire off in my belly. I clutched his upper arms hard, pushing myself closer to him as his hands ran over me. I felt the bed touch the back of my legs and I put a hand out to catch myself as Daryl pushed his body down on top of mine. His lips never once left mine.

I parted my legs and brought my knees up, letting him settle in closer to me. I wanted him badly and my hands found their way to the skin of his waist as they went under his shirt. A deep moan escaped him as his hips pressed harder against mine and not a second later one of his hands found its way under my shirt, too.

"Daryl," I gasped, finally breaking away from him. I wanted it to go on; nearly needing it to for the sake of my sanity, but I couldn't no matter how unfair it was to the both of us.

I said his name again, more firmly this time, when he continued to kiss me, leaving a white, hot trail down my neck. He lifted himself up a bit to meet my gaze and his eagerness quickly left him as he saw my expression.

"I can't," I whispered.

Unenthusiastically, he pushed himself up from the bed, and I sat up, hugging my arms to my chest.

"Why?" Daryl demanded. He was twitching with frustration, his anger growing.

I didn't know how to answer him. I didn't want to tell him that I was scared. He would dismiss me as soon as the words left my mouth because he didn't care about Negan or the things he could do like I did. I had thought about Glenn and Maggie so much since his death, how she was a pregnant widow left alone to raise a child in what was left of this broken world. I thought about Sherry, Amber, and all of the other women who were Negan's wives. What were their stories and who had they loved before him? I thought about the one love I'd had in my life before; how vibrantly it started and how painfully it ended.

And I also thought about Mason. The one person I would've given my own life for above anyone else in this world, and how miserably I had failed him. The loss, the regret, the misery; it was all still too raw, the wound too fresh. A crushing weight dropped in my stomach at the possibility of pointlessly losing someone I loved again. It was terrifying. I didn't want to have happiness if it was just going to be stolen from me and extinguished in front of my face. I wouldn't survive it.

The only way to make sure it never happened again was to piss away all the opportunities I had to have it.

"I'm sorry, Daryl," I said, tears burning my eyes. "I just can't."

"Is it because of him?" He demanded. His anger was a fully burning house now.

"No," I whispered.

"You want to fuck him? Not me?"

"No!" I yelled, astonished.

"You wanna be one of his wives? Prance around in a little fuckin' dress hiked up to your ass all damn day?" Daryl's voice was rising to win over mine.

"Stop it," I protested through gritted teeth.

"Alright, Everly. When he gets tired of stickin' his dick in ya, don't come cryin' to me 'cause I ain't one for sloppy seconds."

A stinging spread throughout my hand as it hit the side of Daryl's face. The sound of the slap was an explosion in the room and it brought everything to a halt. I did it without a thought, the hurt I was feeling inside too great to render any coherent reasoning, but remorse was a quick shot to the heart, reviving my senses.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, horrified.

Daryl was already out of the door, slamming it so hard the walls shook. I sank back down to the bed and cried.

Arat was making her way through the halls at a quick pace. She had just gotten done freshening up after arriving back from a run she and six others had gone on. Normally, she'd be passed out in her room, especially since this expedition had been a particularly long one, but she had a date with a bottle of beer, some freshly picked veggies, and a few of her friends; maybe even a few hands of poker.

A loud bang got her attention and she stopped in her tracks, bending her neck in the direction of the noise. She retraced her steps and rounded a corner into hard chest.

"Hey, watch it, fuck face!" She yelled, putting her hands up defensively.

She saw a shamed faced Daryl who didn't say a word to her, which was typical as the past two weeks with him had proved. He shoved past her again to storm down the hallway. She watched his retreating back, wondering what in the hell his problem was and fighting the urge to catch up with him so she could shove his head through the wall. She looked back in the direction he'd come and realized Everly's room was nearby. Those two being closer than a set of conjoined twins, she could only assume some hell had fallen on their paradise. So, she went forward, intent on finding out what had happened. It would be easier to get information out of the girl than Daryl, anyway. She was more prone to talking after a few good smacks, or just in general.

Arat found the right door and walked up to it with a raised fist ready to bang on it when she heard the crying. Not just crying, though, but full on guttural sobs. Whatever did happened just now, it was nothing good, and Arat thought this might be the perfect time for Negan to know. Her fist dropped to her side as she backed away from the door and went for the stairwell. She was about to earn a hell of a lot more points to gamble with in her poker game.

Edited by lolasskicker.

Well, what a mess. Seems like Daryl's insecurities are getting the best of him...and so are Everly's. Wonder how this will turn out? Hmm... Thoughts?