Chapter 31

It was midday. The sun a blazing torch in the sky that set fire to my back as I worked outside, surveying the men who maintained Negan's walker guardians. I was sweating like crazy, even with my hair pulled up to keep it off my neck, but I felt sorry for the ones in the dirty, spray painted sweat suits. I had the advantage of the shade if I wanted it; they did not, and their wet, red faces were evident of that. I stood by the fence near them, feeling no more worthy of the protection from the sun than them. I once wore that suit, too.

"Everly!"

I turned in the direction of the shout, spotting a Savior at the top of the stairs by the railing. I shaded my eyes as he yelled at me again.

"Inside! Negan wants a word!"

I faced the walkers again where the men still worked poking and prodding them out of the way so they could check their bindings and add new ones to the assemblage. They were currently dragging one out to the road, the severely rotted corpse leaving a chunky sludge of a trail as it bit and snarled at the air. They put a shovel through its head once they moved it out of the way, and I waved to them as they came back. They made their way toward me.

"I need to go in. Why don't you guys take a break and get some water. If anyone stops you, tell them I gave you permission."

"Thanks, Everly," one of the men said, a tortured look on his drenched face. They walked past me and into the factory.

I waited a moment longer, letting the sweat roll down my face and back as I prolonged my inevitable conversation with Negan. I wondered what he wanted, and I honestly didn't care nor wanted to know, but I moved my feet anyway, knowing I couldn't refuse. I decided to stop by my room first and cool down a bit, get some water. He could wait for me; I wasn't his lap dog.

I wiped a wet rag across my neck and chest, cooling down my fevered skin and chugged down a bottle of water. The Sanctuary didn't have much in the way of air conditioning. At least, not in the respect that is was available throughout. Negan, his wives, and a few of his leading men expended that luxury for themselves. But what I had was good enough for me. I didn't need a lot and I was getting cooler by the minute.

I got up, discarding the wet rag on the tiny table I used as a dinette, and went to a dresser. I wanted to change my shirt. Not for Negan's viewing pleasure, but for my comfort. I wore a light green tank which showed more skin than I was comfortable with. It had been necessary, working outside in the heat; even if the days were starting to get cooler as fall neared. It was still blistering when the sun was out.

I found a simple t-shirt that was a size too large for me. I set it on top of the dresser and lifted my sweaty tank over the top of my head. It was as I had my arms crossed in the air and the tank pulled behind my head that I heard my door open. I whipped around, clutching the damp fabric to my breasts.

"Shit, if I'd have known you were getting undressed, I would've been quieter," Negan smiled from the doorway, Lucille sitting pretty on his shoulder.

"You couldn't knock?" I demanded, appalled.

"I could've," he answered, stepping through the doorway and shutting the door behind him. He took a couple slow steps to my dinette and propped Lucille in one chair while he took the other, sitting sideways in it to face me. His back was to the wall, and he placed one foot on his knee while he rested a hand on this side of his smiling face, watching me. He gestured for me to continue.

"You could at least have the decency to go back out while I finish." I glared at him.

"You could've had the decency to show your ass up at my door when I requested it," he countered still smiling.

I closed my eyes in frustration and let out a sigh. I turned my back to him, yanking the clean t-shirt off of the dresser. I hurriedly put it over my head and shoved it over myself as I deserted the tank top on the floor. I wrapped my arms around myself as I turned back around to see Negan in the same spot. He hadn't moved an inch. And I couldn't lie, I respected him marginally for that. His propriety might have a limit, but it started somewhere. That was something.

"So, what did you need to talk to me about?" I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed across from him.

He took his hand away from his face and started drumming his fingers on the table. I watched them go up and down as it rattled the flimsy table, the tapping noise a pattern of my forming irritation. I spotted the wet rag not far from his hand and wanted to grab it; I suddenly felt hot and tired again.

"I wanted to invite you out on a run…with me," Negan finally said, his eyes steady on my face.

"Well…," I began, slightly surprised. How do I refuse this offer? I didn't want to go on a run with Negan; that sounded miserable. "I have a job here, though."

"I think your pals will be okay without you for a few days. And frankly, I'm not giving you a choice in the matter. You're coming."

"What if I don't want to?" I asked stubbornly.

Negan leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his gaze much more intense. "Do you honestly think I give a shit what you want to do? You work for me, you take the orders I give you, you follow the rules. Simple as that."

Oh, right. How could I have forgotten? This whole being Negan thing was starting to become bullshit. I wanted to ask him why he couldn't just leave me alone, but the process of even thinking the question was pointless. I kept my mouth shut and lowered my gaze.

"When do we leave?"

"The day after tomorrow. Enough time for you to prepare," Negan paused, his gaze turning curious. "I'm surprised you aren't a bit more eager to go. Get out on the road, get some fresh air."

"I have my reasons," I stated. He could take from that what he wanted, but he and I both knew I meant him. He smiled. "Will Daryl will be going?"

"Now I am fucking shocked," Negan chuckled. "He is going on a run, but not with us. I've got him on the hunt for some fuckwad who bailed on me. Why're you so curious about him? You haven't…seen him recently?"

I knotted my brows together. "Yes, sort of. I mean, I've seen him…I see him every day."

"Huh…," Negan said, a knowing smile creasing his face, "interesting. Have you seen him today?"

"No, not yet," I shifted around, feeling uncomfortable. I didn't know what this was leading to and I was starting to get nervous. He couldn't possibly know about our fight and how distant we've been. Or he could. I guess it wouldn't take a genius to notice that we hadn't seen each other every day this past week.

"Funny fucking thing," Negan began, rubbing his chin, "I saw your friend Daryl at the hideaway last night…which you apparently already know, right?" He waited for me to respond with a questioning look on his face. He smiled when I didn't answer. "No, you don't know damn thing. Well, the shithead seemed pretty out of it, blitzed off his balls and snarling like a rabid pig, and there is the fact that I didn't see you there at all which I found rather fucking peculiar since it's like you two are glued to the goddamn hip. Odd."

"Did something happen?" I questioned. I wanted to know more now, and my first instinct was to be worried. "Is he okay?"

"Oh, he's fucking dandy. Probably more fucking dandy than I am today because not one of my damn wives wanted to fuck me last night. Can you believe that shit? Out of all six of them!"

"Yes, how tragic," I mumbled. I moved the conversation back to Daryl. "So, he was just drunk?"

Negan only stared at me and smiled. I didn't know what to make of this answer and I was growing impatient. I sighed in annoyance and hit the bed beside me.

"Well?"

"Hey, he's fine," Negan said in a soothing tone, getting up to sit by me on the bed. I turned to him incredulously. "He got fucking wasted. He was an angry and surly motherfucker, but I feel like those are the two character flaws he shows most often. I had a quick discussion with him, and he left after that."

"Okay," I breathed out a sigh of relief. I was starting to think he did something stupid or got into trouble somehow. I was happy to know there wasn't much to it. "That's it?"

Negan took in a deep breath, seemingly excited, and put his arm around me. "No, that's not it."

"What happened?" I felt almost numb and my heart started pounding in my chest. Did Negan hurt him? Did someone else? Had he called me in for a meeting to tell me that - I took in a shaky breath and held it - he was locked up again, beaten and alone?

"I'm not privy to the details, just the overall manner of the juncture," Negan spoke ambiguously and I furrowed my brows at him. He squeezed my shoulder. "It could be idle rumors as everyone in this shithole just loves to run their fucking traps, but since I heard it from the whore's mouth itself… Aw, shit! I mean horse's mouth," he was grinning at me again, hiding jovially behind his secret. "I'll take it as truth. Probably exaggerated truth, but truth enough."

"What is it?" I asked him, curious but a sick feeling was forming in my stomach.

"Look, if you're really curious, just ask Daryl. I'm sure he'll tell you what happened. If you aren't satisfied, talk to Roxanne," Negan's smile faded as he regarded me, studying my face. He cleared his throat and looked down momentarily before meeting my gaze again, serious. "And if you aren't happy with what you hear and you need someone to talk to, I'll be here."

"Please leave," I whispered to him.

I wanted to be alone, figure out what he was trying to tell me in his not so subtle game of bullshit sympathy. Whatever happened with Daryl, and possibly Roxanne, Negan didn't feel sorry about it; he actually seemed rather pleased until he pretended to give a shit about my feelings. But the last thing he said set the tremors of worry wriggling in my stomach. Something clearly did occur, and it was something that I would find significant, but not pleasant. I needed to find out what it was.

"If I were you, I'd find out what went on. I'd fucking love tell you, but I think it'll have more merit coming from him," he said before getting up and walking to the door. He stopped and turned back, his hand on the knob. "And once you learn the truth, clear your head. I need you sharp. Remember, day after tomorrow. Be ready."

Then he left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I waited until the evening to look for Daryl, going over all the possibilities in my head of what could've happened and what I could say. I came up with plenty for the former, but the latter was lost on me. When I felt like I had procrastinated enough, I pulled myself together the best I could and headed out. I walked through the compound now, searching everywhere for him and becoming more desperate when he was nowhere to be found. He wasn't in the spots I thought he might be and since we'd been on the outs the past week, I didn't know where else I could look. He hadn't been in his room which meant he could be anywhere in the endless maze of this place.

I was pissed. Mainly at Negan because I felt like he was just taking me for a ride. I told myself not to trust a damn thing that came out of his mouth, but there was a part of me that thought what he said might be valid. Once I found Daryl, I'd know for sure. I didn't need to speak to Roxanne. There was only one person here who I knew would be real with me.

"Fuck," I whined, on the verge of giving up. Daryl was still M.I.A. and I didn't know where else to look after the last place. I was fresh out of ideas. It was possible he was outside somewhere, but I hadn't seen him when I'd been out there earlier.

Bathrooms? I thought. Yes, check the bathrooms.

I burst through the door, startling a handful of people who occupied the facilities.

"Daryl!" I yelled out.

"Shut the hell up! What the fuck are you yelling for? We're not all deaf in here," one woman said, wrapping a towel around her.

"Daryl," I called again, this time a bit lower.

I walked through the room, checking shower stalls by tapping the plastic current and asking for Daryl. I encountered a lot of annoyed people, but I kept looking. Suddenly, a hand grabbed me, pulling me around a corner. It was Daryl.

"What the fuck are ya doin'?" He asked, holding a towel that was wrapped around his waist. Water dripped from his hair and down his chest.

"I'm looking for you. Is it true?" I blurted out, nearly out of breath with anxiety.

"True? What're ya talkin' about?"

"I don't know," I confessed. I really didn't. I tried to organize my thoughts. "Negan came to see me, told me I was going on a run, and then he talked about you. He said something happened last night…and to ask you for the truth."

Daryl's throat moved up and down as he swallowed, his eyes staring straight into mine apprehensively. His shoulders were tense and the hand that held the towel at his waist was suddenly clenching.

"Is it true?" I asked again, feeling the fear I could see in Daryl. "I have the impression… Did you sleep with…? Is that what happened or am I completely wrong?"

Daryl didn't answer, choosing his infamous silence over speaking to me. I wanted to slap him again.

"Am I wrong?" I demanded more firmly.

"I'm…not sure," he finally said, taking in a breath.

"You don't remember?"

"Not a lot."

"What do you remember?"

After another lengthy pause, he started to speak again. His voice was steadier than he looked. "I remember seeing you, in the hall, then drinkin' a lot. I remember kissing Roxanne and…," Daryl cleared his throat, "waking up to her this mornin'."

"Oh," I replied, feeling defeated. I started to back away from him. "I see."

"Everly, it ain't like that," he reached out for me, eyes pleading. "I-"

"No, it's okay," I placated and stayed out of his reach. "I'm not angry with you. I really have no right to be. We aren't together. We never really were. I just thought…"

"Everly, I care about you. I know it ain't no damn excuse, but I wasn't sure if you still did. And I was drunk. It didn't mean nothing."

"It's fine!" I spoke over him. I just wanted him to stop talking, stop trying to explain himself. The hurt was beginning to turn into to anger, but at myself. "Daryl, it's fine, and if I don't get to see you again before either one of use leaves, I'm sorry for hitting you. I should've never done that... I'll talk to you later."

I spun on my heel and hurried through the room, hearing Daryl call out to me as I left, but I couldn't face him again. He couldn't see how hurt I felt because it would hurt him, and I didn't want that. Negan had been right and he'd practically gloated in my ignorance of what he knew. I wanted to talk to him now, question him on his motives, but that could wait. I'd see him sooner than I wanted to and I felt too exhausted at the moment. It was time for bed.

Daryl quickly threw some clothes on, his fingers shaking the faster he tried to go. He had to get to Everly quickly. He wasn't going to let her walk away from the conversation without letting him explain himself further. He needed to tell her he wasn't sure about what happened because he actually didn't know. He remembered kissing Roxanne and feeling aroused, but everything went black after that. And what else was peculiar was that he'd woken up with his jeans still on, albeit shirtless. Roxanne, however, had been completely naked.

Once he was finally, and sloppily, dressed, Daryl rush out of the bathroom and hurried down the hall to Everly's room. It was where he assumed she had went, so he hoped he was going in the right direction when he saw her form up ahead. She was hugging herself slightly hunched over and walking slowly. He rushed up to her and placed a hand on her arm. She spun around, startled.

"I need to talk to you some more…before we both leave. We can't leave it this way," Daryl's tone was somber.

"Alright," Everly agreed and took a step back to set a distance between them. She kept her arms crossed but allowed him to speak.

"I dunno what I can do to make things right. I've never been in this situation before," Daryl sighed and looked at the floor. "I just wanna say that I'm sorry…for hurtin' you and that what happened might not have happened."

"You didn't hurt me," she said flatly, ignoring his last statement.

Daryl met her eyes again in an instant. "Oh."

"I told you it was fine," Everly stammered, looking less foolish than she felt. Of course he had hurt her. It was obvious to them both of them. She continued. "You aren't tied to me. Maybe when we both get back we should just…leave each other alone for a while. Figure out what we want."

"I want you," he said, his words leaving him almost automatically, begging.

"I'm not sure if I believe that," she shook her head, tears forming in her eyes again. She wiped them away. "I know you were drunk and you don't remember much, but you chose to be with her. You didn't come to me. I think that says a lot."

"It doesn't say shit."

"It does to me."

They stared at each other, the silence almost deafening. Daryl wasn't sure what else he could say, and he felt at this point there wasn't much convincing they could do to sway the other.

"You pushed me away, remember?" Daryl said, his emotions getting the best of him as he took a step forward. There was a flash of anger hidden behind the sadness in his eyes.

"I know, Daryl." She found it was easy to sympathize with him because she had pushed him away and shut him out, and it all stemmed from the fear she felt from being with him. Everly felt it wasn't fair of her to be angry at him for finding solace in someone else when she wouldn't let him get it from her. "And I don't blame you. Just do me a favor and stay straight, do what's asked of you, and don't think about me. I think you'll survive better that way."

He felt deflated as she left him standing in the shadows of the hall.

"I'll be damned," Negan's deep voice filled the hallway. Daryl turned around to see him skulking toward him. "You guys didn't just break up, did you?"

Daryl stiffened his muscles, balling his fists and going over the pros and cons of hitting the smiling bastard in the face. And he might would have. He might would've brought the bastard to his knees and kept hitting him until all feeling left his arm, but Negan's men surrounded him. Daryl wouldn't risk Everly's safety either.

"Aw, he looks so sad," Arat fake pouted at Daryl. "How pathetic. You're fucking loving this, aren't you, Negan?"

"I sure as fuck am!" He exclaimed, smiling broadly at her. His face became more serious as he regarded Daryl again. "Aw shit, it wasn't my fault, was it?"

"Did you set me up?" Daryl demanded. He was awfully suspicious of the whole situation.

"Oh, what-the-fuck-ever, I didn't set your dumbass up! You set yourself up," Negan came up to him. "You chose to fuck Roxanne. I didn't pull your dick out and shove it in her, did I?"

"Take a fucking step back." Daryl was over the bullshit. He almost lost it last night. He might not be able to restrain himself now.

Negan leaned forward, his face close to Daryl's, but Daryl refused to move back even slightly. He was standing his ground.

"Easy there, pal. Don't think I won't cave your skull in now, no matter how valuable you might be. Just because you're good at what you do doesn't make you unique. There are plenty more just like you," Negan paused to let that sink in. He leaned in closer still, his voice a whisper. "But she did fuck you. I know she fucked you because I saw it my own damn eyes."

"Bullshit," Daryl argued. Negan shook his head, clicking his tongue.

"Don't worry, Daryl. Everything will turn out fine. I'll try to convince Everly you didn't slide little Richard into Roxanne's v-pocket. I'm a pretty good liar," Negan smirked. "It might take some convincing, though. I may have to show her the credibility in what I say. Perhaps get her to open up to me even if it's just a little. I know she's delicate, so I'll take it slow."

Daryl shoved Negan away from him violently. Simon and Arat rushed him, grabbing onto his arms as Negan managed to keep himself upright.

"You won't go fucking near her," Daryl was growling and nearly ripped his right arm out of Arat's grasp, but Simon held him back and she was able to get a firm hold on him again. She punched him in the side to no effect. It was like he hadn't felt it at all.

"Well, actually," Negan straightened his leather jacket and ran a hand through his hair. He stepped up to Daryl quickly and shoved a solid fist into his stomach. Negan continued as Daryl hunched over, gasping. "She'll be with me all fucking week. You see, I don't make plans without adding a little back-story first. I saw the perfect opportunity with her when you were shitfaced drunk last night, and the real kicker is that Roxanne actually likes you." Negan made a disgusted face and Simon violently yanked on Daryl's arm, wanting to hurt him. "She was more than willing to seduce you last night, her skirt was practically sopping wet before I was finished telling her to go fuck your brains out. Oh, shit, I mean make sure you got to your room safe and sound."

"I'll kill you," Daryl gasped out, his stomach still collapsing in on itself.

"I'm betting on it," Negan replied sarcastically. He bent down, putting his hands on his knees and looked Daryl in the eyes. "But I'll fuck your ex-girlfriend first."

Daryl fought again, struggling against his restrainers. He broke free from Arat and she fell to the floor with a grunt. Simon kept formidable a grip on him, pushing him back against the wall as two other Saviors rushed forward to pin him. Negan watched in boredom, almost annoyed.

"Let me gut the fucker," Arat was practically spitting, a large hunting knife shaking in her hand. Negan pushed her arm down gently, his eyes on Daryl.

"Lock him in his room for the night and tomorrow. Set a guard on him," Negan ordered. He spoke to Daryl next. "Get some rest and clear your fucking head. I suggest you really think things through before you act again. Next time you pull shit like this, I'll make sure you watch while I fuck her. And then if anyone is willing, I'll let my men run a train on you."

In the next moment, Daryl saw the butt end of Lucille shooting toward his face and then all was black.

Edited by lolasskicker.

Have a fun and safe Memorial Day weekend, everyone.