Captive
She never shuts her eyes, only sits stiff-backed, shoved in the corner of the van. After a few failed attempts Daryl had stopped trying to speak to her, instead he leans against her legs. They pass the time in silence and after a while his breathing deepens, Pandora reaches out and lets her hand sit on his chest to feel the filling and emptying of his lungs. When the van stops he jolts awake, the movement shocks her back into the present moment.
Shifting his frame, he uses his body to hide her. She wants to cry at that. Even now, Daryl is still putting her first. Behind him, Pandora curls into herself as if the darkness could aid in hiding her. Maybe she can make herself small enough and vanish. It's no use. Part of her knows that the moment they come for her she will fight, but right now she wants to hide.
"Yah do whatever they say ok? Ya do whatever you gotta to stay alive." Daryl is panicking now, it's written all over his face. He turns again to face her, trying to read her face in the darkness. He shakes her, hands on her upper arms, "Do ya hear me? You stay alive, yah wait for me."
In the dim light she can make out the look on his face, it's panicked, his eyes wide and searching her own. Panic flares again, the beast threatening to over take what little mental capacity she has left. There is something she should say to him, she should promise him she will try, but she can't. What would happen the moment the doors opened, she didn't know, but she knew it wouldn't include him. They wouldn't keep them together.
"I love you." Her lips ghost over his, just the lightest touch. Her voice shakes, laced with tears. His words ring in her head, live, he wants her to live. She wasn't sure she had it in her anymore to be a captive again. She doesn't say it though, doesn't tell him that somewhere in her head she is already planning how she will end her life. When she tries to kiss him one more time, but the doors swing open.
Light flood the small space, two men outlined by the light behind them.
"Stop standing around and get them the fuck out of there." Negan's voice cuts through everything else, sounding so clear to her. Something in her wants to look for him, needs to see his face to burn it in her mind. If she lives long enough, she will kill him. For a second that thought stops everything, making her numb, she'll kill him and Dwight. For everything he has done, Negan would pay with everything. She will burn this place to the ground if she has to.
There is a rustle of fabric the sound of shifting movements, head snapping up she sees then men moving towards them. They come for Daryl first like she knew they would, she watches them drag him from her side. He fights them, still refusing to go easy. They will come for her next and in those seconds she's wild again. Her brain shuts down and her body refuses to go down without a fight. Sometimes she thinks her mind and her body are two different people. When her mind is ready to give up, her body seems to rebel.
A man steps inside the van now and reaches for her, meaty hand clamping around her upper arm, she screams, sound filling the small space. Her foot flies up to catch him in the chest, or she tries to, but the world around her shifts in her vision. He's fast, a free hand on her ankle to pull her off balance. Her other leg bends, lowering her to ground as she tries to jerk her leg away. She's weak, and she knows it, she's lost too much blood and hasn't eaten in too long. The man jerks her leg, sending her flying down to the floor. The metal floor of the van crashes against the back of her skull.
Fireworks explode in her brain and the last thing she hears is Negan shouting.
Pandora dreams about Abraham in the darkness. In her dreams, they sit on the guard tower in the middle of the night. He is smoking a cigar, she is smoking a cigarette from the pack he found for her. He's laughing at something she said, she can't quite remember what it was. The night is clear and cool, and around them everything is silent.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He asks her, puffing the cigar.
There is a time he asked this before, she doesn't remember it happening here, but she laughs and rolls her shoulders, "Sleep is for the mentally stable."
There is a sound somewhere in the woods, a rustling of leaves. a whistle cuts through the air, something pierces her skin. A glance down relieves blood is seeping from the arrow, she's staring at the sharp point sticking out of her body. "Oh"
"You alright kid?"
Turning, she glances at Abraham, but it's not him anymore, not really. Instead, she is staring at the ruined mess of his head. When she opens her mouth to scream, no sound comes out, and around her everything is different again, Abraham's gone. She is back in the line up, she can hear them, her group. Rosita and Sacha's sobs cut through the night air, but she's alone and kneeling in the dirt next to what used to be Abraham.
Negan's laugh cuts through the sounds and he's there in front of her twirling that god forsaken bat. He laughs and laughs until the scene changes again.
She wakes a few times comes in and out of sleep, hears voices, whispered directions, shouted curses, her own screaming. Every time she goes under again her dreams continue in the same pattern, no matter how they start they always end with Negan swinging his bat.
Pandora isn't sure how many times she comes up from darkness only to go back under she only knows this time when she opens her eyes it's different. Her vision is sharper than before, she doesn't sense the murkiness of drugs in her veins. The room is unfamiliar and for a second she wonders if they had to put her in a different room in medical, her old room might be being used for someone. Her head pounds still, pressure behind her eyelids making the room come in and out of focus. She can't remember how many times she was hit in the head since this whole thing started, but she is sure it has been a lot. They will fix her up though, at home she will be fine.
'This isn't home.' A voice in her head whispers it and blinking again and again she realizes its right, she isn't home. Her eyes close for a second and she sits in the darkness. Images of being shoved into and pulled out of the van flashes behind her eyes. Then it's everyone she loves on the ground their head in a red ruin. A tremor runs through her and she tries to run her hands over her face, but nothing happens. Pandora gives her other arm a hard jerk, nothing happens. Eyes wide and fever bright she glances down only to see the blank bands across her wrists and ankles.
Panic flares for a second when she realizes she's tied down to bed. Shutting her eyes her breathing comes in quick suffocating gasps. The panic is waves rolling over her crashing against each other, she can't breathe now her chest tightens painfully heart threatening to burst through her rib cage. In her head, she thinks of Denise thinks of the lessons on how to stop a panic attack. Focus, she tries to focus, it's harder with her eyes closed so she opens them.
'What do you see? What do you feel?' The voice in her head sounds strangely like Denise, and Pandora pictures the plastic grey elephant toy she used to teach her this. So, with her eyes open now she tries to focus, to map the surrounding room. It doesn't help, the walls are slate grey and empty, no windows just bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling casting harsh white light.
It looks like a prison, it might as well be. The urge to struggle flares again and she twists her wrists a fraction to feel the fabric rubbing against her skin. Instead of letting the panic consume her she tries to listen to the surrounding sounds. Inside of the room is silent but every so often she hears footsteps moving past her door. She listens the way Daryl taught her to see if they belong to the same person. He was always better at it than she was though, and through the storm in her mind she can focus. They leave and in her head she counts to 20 only to hear the same steps return a second time.
When the steps walk by her a third-time self preservation kicks in, and she is twisting her wrists against the bands. Something catches against the bands holding her still, it pinches painfully. Glancing down she finds an IV sticking out of her hand. She's caught it, ripped it half way-out blood dripping down her wrist and hand. The blood soaks her hand and when she pulls again, the IV pulls out ripping the skin blood gushes, but her hand slips free.
Pandora's hand stings painfully, but she ignores it leaning over to unbuckle the bands on her other wrist and ankles. Only then does she take a moment to breathe a moment to let her mind catch up. That's when the tears come again in that moment when she realizes she is alone. She tries to breathe tries to calm the panic clawing its way up into her chest. In her head, she hears Daryl, hears him beg her to stay alive to do anything. But this is too much being a captive again. That's what she is a prisoner of these people, this mad man with a bat.
When she thinks of Negan, she sees the bat again, pictures the red mess of Glenn and Abraham, and there isn't anything to bring her back. The space in her chest gapes open wide, a pit of darkness. A sob breaks through her lips while her hand presses over her mouth the sound. It doesn't help she can't stop it, can't pull herself together long enough to do anything. Like before Pandora tries to plug the hole, tries to fit her body into itself.
She's spinning now thinking about home and Daryl, and how she might never see any of that again. She had big plans for when she untied herself, instead she finds herself frozen. The pain from her wounds is small, blood drips from her hand though staining the crisp white sheets. But soon she doesn't even feel that anymore.
She thinks about Daryl again about his desperate plea for her to live to do as she's told. The blood pooling in the bed from her hand isn't a good start. Absently she takes the tube in her hand examining in between her fingers, the clear liquid drips from the needle tip pooling on to the jeans she's still wearing. It is a poor start, but she never promised Daryl she would try. Maybe she didn't want to try anymore.
Between her fingers the needle tip catches the light. Its sharp still with a well places slash on her wrist she may bleed out before anyone comes to check on her. Daryl's last memory of her would be her cowering in the back of that van she would hate to leave him like that. Her hand shakes as she turns her arm over to expose the vein. The needle shakes between her fingers, it doesn't matter its steady when she presses it down on the pulsing vein at her wrist. She doesn't need to press hard before a small drop of blood collects under the needle. It's a sharp pain a first, it focuses all her sense to that point, to the blood pooling from the needles tip.
Pandora doesn't hear the door open until it's too late and Negan is already in the room. The sound of the door hitting the wall makes her jump snapping her head in his direction. Flying from the bed she finds the corner leaving droplets of blood in her wake. The needle is forgotten in the fog of panic that now fills her head.
"Get her to the fucking doctor." His tone is angry, words clipped at the edges with sharpness.
Her hands fly out to keep them away, even though no one has moved. She doesn't cry again, instead she is silent eyes travelling up to stare at Negan. He has the bat, but it's in his hands hanging down at his side. It's clean now but in her mind's eye it's covered in blood. Two men stand next to him watching her. Negan watches her too open and curious for a few silent seconds then it's gone face hardening again.
"I meant now!"
"But Negan…"
He says something else that she doesn't catch because she's trying to move again to find another corner in the room. For a split second, she considers running for the door but there is movement again this time it's Negan is moving towards her. He reaches for her and the scream she lets out is high pitched verging on hysteria.
"Come on princess." She tries to shove him away her head swims, he has his hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm pulling her upwards.
The pain is bright flashes in her eyes he's holding the arm with the knife wound and she isn't sure he knows or cares. Pandora screams again but this time it's cut short as ice rushes into her veins. She struggles for a moment limbs still thrashing against his hold, it doesn't last long. In seconds her limbs are a dead weight, arms falling to her sides. Negan is still holding her up which is good because she isn't sure her legs could do the job alone. Turning her head she sees one of the men at her side the needle in his hand catch the light and her heart sinks.
Lifting her free hand, she tried to push Negan again knowing she can't do much of anything. "Please." She begs him crying again completely helpless. He is just watching her now then he pulls her towards the door. She wants to fight him part of her knows she should that she needs too. But she's tried now and everything seems hard and for a second she can't remember why she is struggling in the first place. That's a dangerous thought not remember why she should fight, everything is so fleeting thoughts appear and disappear like smoke.
It's a squeaking sound that pulls her back from the cloud of drugs. She realizes she is moving down a hallway. Doors flash past her moving too fast for her to focus on making her head spin more. Her hand moves fingers splaying out on her legs, she isn't walking. It takes her a second to process that, she isn't being carried either. The squeaking is back though going round and round. From the corner of her vision there is movement a gray streak darting past her, she reaches out fingers brushing the smooth rubber surface. It's a wheel chair, the wheels squeak painful as she's pushed.
"Watch out there Princess." It's Negan's voice above her. He must be pushing her because he came to get her she remembers came into the room and dragged her out. Not before drugs she thinks sluggishly, they had to drug her first. It reminds her of the beginning when Daryl found her a screaming mess when they kept her drugged for days before trying to help her. Funny how things come full circle, how she always ends up kicking and screaming.
"Doc will patch you right the fuck up then we can have a chat."
Pandora tries to look at him but her head refuses to obey her command instead it rolls forward until her chin is touching her chest. Everything is fog around her, thought come and go like smoke and she can't seem to lock them down. Somewhere she's knows this is wrong. That she shouldn't sit here allowing herself to be lead down some unknown hallway by a mad man. Yet the moment that thought slips into her brain it's gone again.
Around her there are tiny pops of light. It's too bright against the cold darkness of the walls. Flexing her fingers she lifts her hand to cover her eyes, her hand drips droplets of warm blood onto her face and neck. The movement also causes a pulling in her arm and side but no pain.
"Watch it here." Negan's voice is above her still he shows his steps showing the forward progress of her chair.
Under her she feels the bump on the floor, it's hardly feels like anything. Then as she struggles to see through her fingers the space around her changes. It's a room lights too bright air too sterile. It seems like a hospital and for a moment she pictures she's back in medical. Pandora can almost see the harsh white walls see the empty beds lining the space. This room is different though, and Denise isn't here.
Something to her right she hears something, the sound of a gasp and of flesh connecting with flesh. Lowering her hands she tries to turn in the direction but Negan stands in front of her.
"Well well fuck me didn't even think you'd be here. Let him go Dwight let him see how well we take care of her."
When Negan steps away from her field of vision Daryl is moving towards her. Gasping she reached for him movements slow she lifts her hands out for him. Pandora is sure she's crying but everything is muddled and slow so she can't be sure. Though she hasn't seen her own reflection since she's woken up she imagines that he looks much worse than she does. Dressed in a dirty off white jumpsuit with an A painted on the front in red, his hair hangs listlessly in front of his eyes.
"Hey Pan." Kneeling in front of the wheelchair hands gripping hers, so tight her bones grind together.
Pandora wants to say something, anything thing. She wants to answer him she does she wants to grab his hands with the same tight fierceness that he is grabbing her but her body will not obey. She's swimming underwater everyone else is underwater with her, but she can't find her way to the surface. The most she can do is lean forward, shift her weight trying to get closer. As she moves, it's too much too fast, and she is sure she is about to fall out of the chair. Daryl is fast like always reaching out to catch her as her head falls into the crook of his neck.
"What did you do?" Daryl's voice is hard a dangerous tone underneath his question.
Somewhere to her left Negan only laughs, "Fucking firecracker this one. Won't let us get anywhere near her without a little help."
There is a shifting beside her she doesn't see it not with her face now hidden in Daryl's neck. She feels him though feels Negan standing over her a heavy hand on her shoulder. In front of her Daryl goes stiff hands tightening around her middle, she should move away pull her shoulder from under Negan's hand but she can't. The edges of her vision are darkening, she has a few fleeting moments of consciousness left. With whatever strength, she has left she uses it to speak lips pressed against the side of Daryl's neck she whispers that she loves him and tells him to fight. Her voice is low so low that she is sure Daryl is the only one that hears her.
Then she's gone slipping back into unconsciousness as easily as she wakes up.
Waking up is different Pandora is on her side legs tucked up into her chest, limbs free to move and twist as they please. She doesn't open her eyes right away, instead screws them shut enjoying the last few moments of peaceful darkness. Too many memories play behind her eyes, they mix with dreams making it harder to find the reality in all of it. She starts with the things she knows, Denise is dead, Abraham is dead, Glenn is dead, Daryl has been taken, she has been taken. Again. Her truths are horrible the world she occupies looks too much like the one Daryl saved her from. There is nothing safe anymore, whatever home she thought she had that's gone.
When her tears sting her closed lids again she opens her eyes, intent on stopping the cycle of panic. Laying on her side the pain is a slow steady pulse it keeps her focused, keeps her mind from wandering too far. So she stays like that laying on where the knife stuck her she's sure. It allows her to focus on what she sees. The room is different smaller maybe, but it looks like a room. From where she lays there are two pocket doors, the walls are painted a pale yellow, white doors shining brightly against the paint. When she turns over there is another door, this one larger all steel grey she assumes it leads out. At the end of the bed is a plush chair, and a dresser. It almost looks like a bedroom nothing like a blank empty room she woke up in the first time.
Pandora decides it times to sit up, she's spent enough time coming out of being drugged that she takes it slow rolling up until she's in a sitting position in the bed. In front of her sits another door she doesn't notice before she wonders where it leads but knows better than to check right now. There is a tremble in her frame that speaks to her inability to stand. So instead she sits collects her thoughts in the growing silence.
The pain flares again as she turns to the right. Shaking fingers life the helm of the shirt she's wearing. Before she gets it all the way up she realizes it's not what she came in. Her pants are different to a light grey sweatpants hanging loosely around her legs. There is a flash of herself being awake of a brown haired women helping her dress. It's only bits and pieces chunks of the scene missing like a badly done movie. Her head gets a sharp shake then she's lifting her shirt to look.
On the right side there is a shiny new set to stitches holding her skin shut. It had been deeper than she realized, at the moment she almost didn't feel the pain her brain focused on nothing more than killing the man. The wound was nothing another scar to add to her collection another life to add to the blood already on her hands. Her shirt falls from her fingers, it can only be assumed that her arm looks the same the desire to look is suddenly gone.
The room is silent the type of silent that sets her nerves on edge, Pandora has been sitting now for so long her muscles begin to cramp. So she stands, the movements slow. Left leg first foot pressing down into the ground counting to ten in her head until she is sure she won't fall over. Then her right leg follows the same process, she realizes then she will have to release the death grip she has on the head board now. For a few long seconds she doesn't let go only stands still hands a white grip on the wooden post of the bed.
Pandora is sure she can walk, sure she can make it to check all the doors then back. There is a type of irrational fear in that idea, like that would be what makes it real for her. As if moving away from this bed somehow makes this the real world, she knows it real she does but if she can just hide in the bed a bit longer. If she closes her eyes, she can see Daryl in the back of that van begging her to stay alive. Fighting is how you live she has to reminds herself. Fighting is how she lived through the first time she was taken, not to fight that was to die. And maybe, just maybe she wasn't ready to die yet.
The steps are slow easy every time she feels herself falter or tip she stops, taking long deep breaths before trying again. She made it to the first door, light filtered from under the tiny crack. Her hand grips the handle of the door, it didn't move and she struggled to shove down the panic. That's the outside door, it locked. As it logically would be, but still Pandora panics. Turning she crosses the room in hurried panicked steps, heading for the two white doors.
With her hands shaking around the two knobs she pulled with so much force. The doors fly open almost sending her flying, she reacted quickly though. Tightening on the door handles she could keep herself standing. In front of her was nothing, but a closet filled with dresses, shirts and shirts. Its women clothes she notes. Most of the things inside are black with a few hits of colour here and there.
Tightening her hand on the handle she turned leaving it open and going to the other door. This one was heavier but with a quick jerk it opens, revealing a two-piece washroom with a sink and a toilet. She stumbled inside right away emptying her bladder into the toilet. Finished and standing at the sink she realized that mirror has been taken down. Licking her lips she grabs a towel from the side and runs it under hot water using it to wash her body. When she's finished, she finds herself in the closet finding one of the few pairs of pants she has seen. A skin-tight pair of tights, with a long black t-shirt.
She flicks the light off taking a moment to sit in the darkness. Five breaths later she was coming back into the room, on hand gripped the edge of her shirt the other reached out pulling the covers of the bed. Slipping down she covers herself pulling the blankets up to her chin. Pandora stares unblinking at the door. He'll come back for her, he promised when he told her to wait.
She felt more human than she had in days. But she had been awake for longer than usual giving her time to think. Daryl's plea is forever in the forefront of her mind. When she looks deep inside herself, she isn't sure she can see any fight left. But she did shower, and she did dress herself that was something. She's so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn't hear the door open behind her. Or notice the figure stepping through.
When he sighed, she snapped back into the real world that turning her head to face Negan. He sits comfortably the plush chair near the door the bat leaning on the side. He stared at her silently for a long moment before he speaks.
"Well, well good morning Princess." His voice as a twang to it, a hitch that stops her breath just for a second.
She can't speak can't make her brain form words. So seconds pass in silence as they both stare. She takes him in, he's clean now no longer covered in blood like he is in her dreams. He wears the same black jacket white T-shirt under it. The red scarf is back too she can't look at that for too long it reminds her of blood. Abraham's blood to be more exact on her face chunks in her hair. A shiver runs up her arms pulling her knees to her chest she breaks the eye contact.
"You are quite the handful you know that." He's so relaxed, leaning back casually in his chair watching her. "Don't even know why the fuck I brought you here."
She doesn't answer again not sure if she could even if she wanted too, but she doesn't want to. Instead she keeps her eyes down focuses on her own fingers as she curls them into a tight fist.
"From what I hear you're a fucking force wrapped up in a beautiful crazy package."
"I've killed three of your men I think.." Her voice comes out on its own, like it's a person thinking and feeling separate from her brain. She didn't think those words she is almost sure but there they are hanging in the surrounding air. Pandora can't help but feel a sick sense of pride when she thinks back to the men she killed.
Negan's laughter is loud a booming sound the echo's off the bare walls. Pandora flinches it sounds like it did in her dreams. Her hands tighten into fists again nails biting into the flesh.
"Fuck yes you did Princess. I should be pissed I should be so fucking mad but I'm not you know why?"
Pandora can't answer again can't even look at him. She tried to make herself small again, like she learned at the camp. Negan doesn't allow it though he's not like the wolves, the chair under him groans in protest then his fingers are on her chin forcing her head up.
"Do you know why?" his tone is darker now fingers tightening demanding an answer from her.
"No." The answer is whispered Pandora stills herself fighting the urge to pull her face free of him. As always, she thinks of Daryl wonders what he would do in her situation. Would be fight? Or would be bend allow himself to be frightened into submission. The moment passed, and she knew he would fight he would put all he had into fighting. So, she kept her head up eyes clear.
Grinning Negan let's his hand drop leaning away resuming his casual pose. He doesn't leave the bed though, and that sends Pandora moving back as much as she can, folding herself smaller against the headboard.
"Because you my dear Pandora have a giant set of lady balls and I like that." He's staring at her now unblinking. Clapping he breaks eye contact. "Besides you're a fucking celebrity Pandora you won a gold medal for this great country!"
Pandora flinches turns her head from him to hide the tears now swimming in her eyes. She didn't want to talk to him, doesn't want to think about who she had been before this. Silent crept between them then, Pandora relaxed into it waiting for him to leave. Instead he only sat back got more comfortable in the chair.
"Sorry Princess how stupid of me you must be hungry."
Negan gets up then the mattress springs backup without his weight under it. Pandora watches him move to the door, his stride is long powerful. She can help but stare. The door behind him opens then very quickly someone is placing a plate of food into his hand, and he's snapping the door shut.
"Here I got ya something."
Pandora screams at her body to move at her arms to reach up and take the plate. She doesn't though just can't and then he is doing it for her. He takes her hand and molds them ready, and the moment he puts the plate down does she begins eating. Her body wakes up screaming for food after the first bite, and soon the plate is clear. Sometimes she hates it, hates her body for remember that it is indeed alive. How she would rather curl into a ball in this bed and waste away.
Negan is laughing as he opens the door to trade the empty plate with a full one. It more of the same that he gives her fruit meat and some carrots. Again, she clears it paying little mind to the food as she eats placing the empty plate at the end of the bed.
Negan is back in the chair leaning back casually watching her again, "See Princess I'm not a monster. I'll take good care of you, you're my new insurance policy."