Disclaimer: I don't own "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: I'm not sure why I decided this had to be written, but here we are. I thought it would be interesting to tackle the idea of instead of Father Gabriel, it was Maggie who was left behind with Negan.

Warnings: soul-mates, soul bond, fated love, angst, drama, romance, unresolved sexual tension, post traumatic stress disorder, mild consent issues, dubious consent due to trope. Negan is not a good person and Maggie doesn't deserve this.

What doesn't kill me (makes me)

Chapter Nine

"Maggie?"

She was visiting Alexandria with Jesus and Harlan. Touching base with the others as the doctor made the rounds. Alexandria still didn't have one, so that meant regular trips to treat people when needed. This time the list hadn't been long. It was music to her aching feet as Harlan started packing his bags, chattering with a lingering patient. As much as she liked to visit, Alexandria wasn't home anymore. There was too much of Glenn here. Too many reminders. The ghosts were bolder here.

They were heading back to the vehicles when Rick and Daryl came through the main gates.

"Maggie! Hold up!"

She stopped turned when Rick's voice raised above a yell. Waiting until they'd halved the distance before she started towards them. Putting space between where Jesus was talking to Michonne. She recognized the look on Rick's face and preferred to hear whatever it was alone.

"Good hunting?" she asked, smiling when Daryl grunted non-committedly. Turning so she could see a full brace of squirrels. Reminding her of the days when it was hand to mouth and those squirrels were the only thing they'd eat for days.

"Better than nothing," Daryl rasped, looking over his shoulder as Rosita closed the gates with a metal clang. Hunching in on himself as the sharp sound echoed. No one had asked what the Saviors had done to him. No one wanted to know.

"It's that community," Rick broke in, hands on his hips. Boots digging into the dusty blacktop. "The Amish one from a while back. They sent word. They had a visitor."

The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

"I thought they didn't have dealings with Negan," she replied, mind jumping there like breathing. Immediately wondering if she'd given them away somehow. If Negan had been able to tell where she'd been and-

"They didn't. They don't. Not directly anyway. They had someone they didn't recognize show up. Could be a Savior. Could be someone passing through. But they had one of these," Rick told her, handing her a folded piece of paper.

She only had to touch it to know it was actually painting canvas. Thin, but smore substantial than a normal sheet of paper. It felt like what she'd been using to paint her portraits. Glenn. Abraham. Beth. Daddy. Eventually she'd get to them all. Maybe she'd even run out of room to hang them. Maybe it would get so crowded that even a quick turn could make the room whirl. A nauseous mess of colors and faces.

If it sounded like she was stalling, she was. Because she could feel him. Somehow, she could feel him through the paper. Able to tell he'd touched it. That his hands had lingered on the outline of her face. No matter what he was trying to accomplish, Negan was behind this.

Because of course he was.

When she opened it, for a sickening moment she thought it was a mirror. Because it was a perfect likeness. Hand painted. Professional. Right down to freckles, dimples, moles and skin-tone.

Name: Maggie, 'The Widow.'
Location: Hilltop, Leader. Alexandria, by association.
Wanted: Alive only - REWARD.

She looked up to find Rick and Daryl staring at her. She wondered what they wanted her to say. What they were expecting. What they were thinking. How much they could see on her face. Worse, what they suspected. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this from them.

God, she was tired. Tired of this. Of him. Of all of it.

"Negan has put out a bounty on you and it's persuasive. Anyone who delivers you alive and uninjured gets whatever they want. No holds barred. But anyone who kills you, dies. Along with their family, their friends, their entire community. Why?"

She headed him off before he could dig for the reason. The kid gloves Rick had been treating her with since they'd lost Glenn were still on, but she knew they'd only get her so far.

"He wanted me to join his people, his harem," she replied, lip curling with disgust she didn't have to fake. "That must be what this is about. We'll double security. I'll be fine."

It wasn't a lie.

Not exactly.

"Everyone in the state will be coming for you. You sure he'd go to this much trouble for-"

She knew it was manipulative when she rested her hand on the curve of her belly. But it did its job stopping Rick in his tracks.

"Us escaping hurt his pride," she returned, folding the paper. Barely keeping from crumpling it in her fist. "You've seen what he's capable of. How he keeps people in line. We took their only doctor. Seems like a fair escalation coming from him."

"He had a picture of you," Daryl said hoarsely. "Not Harlan. You sure that's what he wants you for?"

It wasn't the first time she'd thought it, but she was convinced that in another life, Daryl would have made an excellent Detective. He always knew more, thought more, felt more, did more than any of them gave him credit for. The problem was, he was focusing all of it on her. Like he knew there was something she wasn't saying. And while Daryl could respect the reasons behind people's secrets and trust they wouldn't backfire on him, Rick was visibly unconvinced.

She exhaled, letting them see part of what she felt. What the last few months had done to her. Glenn. Negan. The baby. Hilltop. The future. She was barely clinging to the inside of her skin.

"I told him he would pay," she said flatly. Lying again, but only slightly. "I told him he would pay for what he did. What he took. Then I said no to his 'generous' offer. Does Negan strike you as someone who takes no for an answer?"

Rick's boot scraped across the rocky dust between them.

"No."

Her eyes were hard when she met theirs. A self-satisfied smile curling across her lips like a snarl.

"Too bad for him," she replied blandly.

Somewhere, in the wounded dark of Rick's eyes, she saw a predator show its teeth at the sentiment.

There wasn't much she and Rick had in common these days, but maybe there was hope yet.

She stopped going out on runs. Sticking to Hilltop and all the reasons why she already had enough to do. She tripled security and spent long nights on watch herself. Waiting for him to make a move. Waiting for someone stupid enough to try.

It bought her time.

It just didn't buy her enough.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. There will be more to come.