Disclaimer: I don't own "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: I'm not sure why 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, manipulation, 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 Ten
"The Saviors have the scouting party hostage!"
Her head came up with a jerk as Jesus burst into Gregory's old office. Her office. And he wasn't alone. Rick and Michonne were close behind him. Spilling into the room as she set down her paint brush and go to her feet. Abraham's portrait frowned, unfinished, like just the mention of Negan was enough to ruffle his feathers.
"He wants to talk terms, but only through you. Mind telling me why?" Rick asked, more a demand than a question as Michonne closed the door behind them. Cutting them off from prying ears.
"Where?" she asked, looking to Jesus. But he shook his head.
"They left a radio in the vehicle. Daryl is tracking them with Rosita, but they had a five-hour head start, at least. They've probably taken them back to the Sanctuary," Jesus replied, expression meaningful as he angled away from Rick and Michonne to look at her.
She understood.
Negan.
"It's personal," she returned, lifting her eyes to glance at Rick and Michonne. "He can't get to me. And he can't find anyone stupid enough to try and take me. It was a matter of time. It's the third supply mission we've sent out since the bounty. We couldn't wait anymore. We needed supplies, medicine."
She'd approved the mission herself.
This was her responsibility. Her fault.
In the back of her mind, Negan's echo roiled. Irritated. Excited. Impatient.
She'd been ignoring him out of principal.
Maybe she shouldn't have been.
Her eyes strayed to the radio in Rick's hand.
"Rick tried to speak with him, but he wants you," Michonne told her. Eyes heavy with a tired weight she recognized from the mirror. Everyone had their reasons not to be okay lately. She didn't have a monopoly on suffering. Not by a long shot. Even when it sometimes felt like it.
She closed her eyes. Trying to center herself.
Enid had been in the scouting party.
"He only wants you," Rick told her, hands on his hips and one leg turned sideways. Like he knew he didn't have all the facts and was trying to be patient. Or was just treating her with kid gloves. "I can't say I understand it. But that doesn't mean we don't have a problem we need to solve. Will you be okay speaking with him?"
It was ironic, just when she was afraid he'd call her on it. Demand to know what she was hiding. He somehow managed to focus on the part that was least important. Negan lived in her head these days, speaking to him aloud would be a novelty. Nothing more.
She nodded, accepting the radio as Rick handed it over.
She could do this.
She had it in her hand for less than a second when Negan's sarcastic burr echoed through the office.
"I want the Widow. Now. Enough stalling. Gotta say, I don't think you guys understand the seriousness of the situation. It's simple. I have her cubs. She'll want them back. I don't think anyone else needs to be involved. Mama bear and all that. Could get messy."
Her lips were a grim line across her face as she felt his irritation through the bond. Hating the dissonance between the airy, fake tone and what he was really feeling. How his temper - how everything about him felt thin.
"You have my people," she replied tersely, able to feel the exact moment he heard her. His excitement. His pleasure. His relief. It was almost electric.
"There you are," he purred. "I have to admit, I've been looking forward to this. You're a hard woman to get a hold of. It's almost like you're trying to avoid me. Here I thought we were starting to be friends. …Should I guess the reason why you didn't try and sort this out when you knew I was looking for you? Hmm?"
The hand in her lap, hidden under Gregory's precious mahogany desk, clenched into a brutal fist.
"So you took my people?"
Negan's presence forced itself where it was least wanted. Sending her a surge of conflicting images. Her people with their hands bound outside the truck, a ring of Saviors around them. Her people inside the Sanctuary, huddled in a room with tables of food. Enid was there, looking wary but unafraid.
"You didn't give me a choice, darling. It's hard to get your attention. I improvised. And your people? They're fine. Eating me out of house and home, in fact. I want to hand them back to mom, but I want something first."
The next thing that came through the bond was a veiled question.
'Are you alone?'
She let it come through, understanding what he meant.
He wanted to know if they were being overheard.
He didn't want anyone to know anymore than she did.
It took more out of her pride to answer than she was comfortable with, but she did.
'No,' she sent. 'Not alone.'
A huffing sigh echoed back at her.
'Figures.'
"What do you want?" she answered. Already knowing where this was going. She'd known the moment they told her the party had been taken. It was what the bounty was all about. She refused to come to him. To be with him. So, he was trying to force it.
"Isn't it oblivious?" he hummed. Like she should be flattered.
"Stop playing games," she snapped.
"All of this is a game, sweetheart," he drawled. "And I'm giving you a get out of jail free card. You can have your people back, all of them, and your supplies. All I want is a little one on one.
Rick, Michonne and Jesus stiffened like one animal. Suspicion a new kind of oxygen.
"What say I treat you to dinner, hmm?" Negan hummed; satisfaction so rich it was cloying.
Jesus shook his head.
Rick opened his mouth.
She muted the radio.
"We don't have a choice," she said firmly. "He won't hurt me, not until he knows he can't get what he wants from all this."
Rick opened his mouth again. About to ask that question she refused to answer. So she kept talking. Forcing words into a space that had a time limit. Able to feel Negan pressing against the barriers she'd made to keep him out. Daring her to do something. To bite into this entire thing raw. Because if he was going to be hurt, he wanted it to be by her mouth and no one else's.
"I have to get my people back. Trust me," she told them quietly. Looking at each of them in turn.
She was going to be sick.
She waited until Rick nodded before hitting the button again.
"I want a good will gesture," she countered, tone broaching no argument.
Negan laughed. It was a full throat chuckle that made Rick turn on his heel. One hand coming up over his head before he turned away, hiding his expression. She understood why. It was the same laugh from the clearing. The one they all had nightmares about.
"Darlin', every bit of this has been a good will gesture. Your people have been gettin' the feel spa treatment. Fed. Watered. Hell, one of them took me up on a chance to soak in an honest to god jacuzzi tub. They're fine. Stupid, but fine."
She wondered if she was numb to his bullshit or if it was because she held all the cards. Because she was calm. Eerily calm. In an odd way, he was the one negotiating with her. Not the other way around. He was the one that wanted something from her. No matter how he tried to level the playing field, he was the one asking. She liked that. But the truth was, it was like a snake biting at its own tail. The upper hand never lasted long.
"Give me one of them, and I'll consider it."
His amusement was heady through the bond.
He liked her biting back at him.
He was proud of her for it.
But mostly he was happy he had her like this, caught.
She hated him more than she'd hated anything.
"Fine," he chuckled. "Just for you. I'll send one of your cubs home with an escort. You can meet them at the halfway point. The traffic jam on the main road. Three hours. Fair?"
She swallowed, throat dipping.
"Then what? What do you want?"
"Dinner," he purred. "Just you and me, widow."
Her teeth sunk into the inside of her cheek.
"I'll think about it. Don't contact me until I contact you," she bit out, eyes flicking up to meet Jesus'. They didn't need words to know what the other was thinking.
"Yes ma'am," he sing-songed, before cutting the connection and keeping his word.
Her stomach lurched when a blurred image came over the bond. Getting the outline of Negan sitting back in a chair with a grin on his face. The details slowly filling in until she could see other things. Like how he looked thinner, and not in a complimentary way. He was tired too. The kind of tired that sleep doesn't fix. She shook it off.
She had work to do.
"We'll give Daryl and Rosita time. If they can get them without too big of a risk, we'll make a move. For now, if he keeps his word about the hostage, we'll go from there. There's a look out point they don't know about yet. We'll be able to see them coming."
Rick shook his head.
"Maggie-" he started.
But Michonne put her hand on Rick's arm and surprisingly, he let it go.
It was the last reprieve she would get, and she knew it.
She waited until Rick and Michonne left, before she clicked the button on the radio again.
"Yes," she said simply. Feeling the part of her he'd stolen tremble with needy excitement. "Where?"
She hated herself later, for letting him have this, but she didn't regret it.
Not really.
That was what scared her.
A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. There will be more to come.