Krešimir Horvát was a man of many things, but in this moment, he was simply a storyteller. A messenger of the carnage past, a voice to remind the living of the atrocities of Man before the Fall.
But above all, a man on a mission to rebuild what once was. For when the King comes, there must be a throne. For when the Saviors arise from the ashes, there must be blood to prevail and take the place of the fallen.
In the beginning no one came to listen, his voice gracing nothing but empty walls as Krešimir began the story he vowed to never let die. Eventually, just as he knew would happen, curiosity overcame those who wondered what the Croat was up to when he took center stage to the Garden in the dead of night.
One survivor became two, and then another and another until one day all of the Burazi came to listen. Even the Dama herself came out from her quarters to listen to the harrowing tale of brotherhood and sacrifice, the war for freedom and salvation. The beginning and the end to those called the Saviors.
Night after night Krešimir would take to the stage, the spotlight shining solely upon him as the rest took to sit and listen. He would speak with flair and excitement when the moment called for it, regale the horrors solemnly and bitterly when needed.
He gripped the hearts of all who listened, taking them with him decades past to relive a different age. A different world. It was a song of loyalty and sacrifice, of tragedy – joys and sorrow, that the Croat sang.
“He saw something in me. In us all. We were nothing! Lambs to the slaughter, left to die. We were villagers, farmers and herders many! None of us knew how to handle a weapon, much less understand what it meant to kill another human being.
‘‘And yet! And yet…our hearts raged. Our blood boiled. The Višegrad Massacres were but the beginning to the war, and I along with the rest of the men vowed to never let such horrors reach our women and children. Our sons would not be put down like dogs! Our daughters would not be enslaved and raped alongside their mothers!’’
The men and women who listened roared and shouted, entranced in the illusion that they themselves were the villagers who saw the shadows of war looming over the horizon. That it was them who stood tall and came forward to rise to the occasion.
‘’Negan saw what we could become, if only we surrendered to his leadership. If only we gave him our loyalty to follow him to the depths of hell and back! He stayed when the other Americans were recalled back to the States. When the United Nations embroiled themselves in the politics of consequences. That man would see us rise, and by his hand we would become the Saviors! As a people we cried out for change! For leadership! And he humbly answered our call…’’
Krešimir snapped his feet together and saluted, putting a fist against his chest and the other behind his back.
‘’The Noble! The Valiant! The Few!’’
The Saviors! The crowd chanted back at him.
Krešimir smiled wide, laughed and nodded excitedly.
‘’Yes! Exactly! To the last man we must endure. Down to the last bullet we must fight!’’
The Saviors! The Saviors! The Saviors!
The Garden trembled beneath the chant, and for a moment the Croat was transported back into time. A time where he stood next to the Savior, his brother and leader. Before them stood their army, the Saviors ready and willing to kill and be killed. Whatever the cost, they would do what must be done to protect those weak and innocent, the ones they love.
Whatever the cost. Buráz…where are you now? Are you still at the Sanctuary? Does it still stand? …Ha! Of course it does! Who could ever defeat you?! Soon I will come for you, and the Saviors will rise once again! To be what should have been. We must. For Mia and my children. For your Lucille.
‘’Some of you perhaps have doubts about the things I say, but Krešimir Horvát is no liar.’’ The Croat chuckled and gestured wide with his arms, bowed low to the proud woman who sat in the far back. ‘’We have a full house in the Garden tonight, and the Dama has once again graced us with her presence. On this night, I would have you all witness the glory and horror of that war – if only a glimpse.’’
The sole spotlight on him faded as the jumbotron above his head came to life, illuminating the audience in a glow of glaring white light. For many of the survivors present, this was their first time in years to have seen the coming of life of such technology no longer easily accessible. Many jumped from their seats in shock, others too stunned to move.
Some of the younger ones knew nothing of it, and yet to see the largest screen in the Garden come to life in this moment would forever remain in their hearts until the day they died.
The Dama herself rose from her secluded seat; her eyes alight with anticipation to see the man who the Croat proposed be crowned King. If he was every bit the man Krešimir said he was, then Negan Smith was indeed the missing piece.
Under his leadership, they could begin to expand beyond the island, wage war and conquer. They had time enough for now until other civilizations began to encroach. And until that time came, they would focus on amassing power, producing fuel and taking in more people to fill the ranks. Slowly but surely solidifying their power.
‘’There are a number of tapes,’’ began Krešimir lowly, ‘’footage of the war taken by a close comrade who fought alongside myself and Negan. My dear brother was given those tapes as a parting gift, but I kept one for myself. That tape will now be played here tonight, so that you can see the man who will lead us to salvation. For when the Savior arrives, the Burazi will be no longer. When the King takes his rightful place, we will be the Saviors once more!’’
Krešimir put a hand on Isak’s shoulder, urging the Private to get up. ‘’We must leave, now! Hurry!’’ An explosion had rocked the foundation to the building they were in, and the Scorpions had breached the levels below, fighting the Saviors on the ground.
Every second they wasted drew death nearer, the ground they stood upon shaking as artillery shells hammered the very earth.
Isak fumbled for the recorder that had slipped out from his hand, grabbing his gun next as Krešimir shouted into the chasm of dust and debris for Negan. What emerged was a hulking beast of a man who wore the patch of the Scorpion, dressed in enemy military fatigues.
Isak struggled to get his feet under him as Krešimir was thrown across the floor. The Scorpion had already drawn his gun, intent on killing the both of them until a towering shadow rushed forward.
Gunshots resounded, but none hit Krešimir or Isak. Blood spilled from Negan’s knife as the enemy’s throat was slashed, but in exchange a flower of blood bloomed on the man’s chest. What should have been a bullet for both men were taken by their leader instead.
‘’Negan!’’ Krešimir rushed forward, not caring for the blood pouring out from his broken nose, but Negan simply waved him off and held a hand towards Isak, to which the Private grabbed and pulled himself up with.
Both men looked to Negan with shock and awe as Negan walked away and towards the sounds of gunfire and shouting.
‘’Pull yourselves together. This is war.’’ Negan jumped down with a smile that never reached his eyes, cracking his neck as he walked deeper into the depths of hell.
The streets were littered with corpses, ash falling like snow. The three men took to the front as the enemy geared up once more to break the line held grimly by the Saviors. They had repelled the coming assault, but another was already on the horizon.
‘’Kres. Translate what I say.’’ Negan turned back to look at the dozens of men who gathered. Men young and old kneeled solemnly as their Savior stood proud and tall, the many wounds and scars he bore for them fully on display.
‘’Men it's been a long war, it's been a tough war. You have fought bravely, proudly for those you would protect and save. There is no more a noble sacrifice than to give your life for those you love and cherish, for a cause in which you sincerely believe. To the left and right of you are those who would die for you. Amongst brothers you are. Amongst family, all of us. We have seen death and suffered together.’’
As Krešimir translated his words with heated passion, Negan turned to look at the enemy forces amassing at the forefront. A blockade sealed Sarajevo, diminishing their supplies and cutting them off from the rest of the world.
In the distance artillery rained down like the wrathful fury of decadent gods. The harrowing screams of the innocent still echoed hauntingly in these ruined streets and buildings, their blood still staining these lands.
‘’The war is not over, brothers! Our suffering is not yet done! There shall be blood! There will be cost to victory! To the last man we must endure. Down to the last bullet we must fight! Freedom is the goal. Rise up if you fall! Great men take their courage from self-doubt! Brave men dare themselves to the sword! And only in death does the duty of a Savior end!’’
Negan’s words pulled the Saviors wounded and bloody up from their knees. These men who sported cuts and bruises, torn flesh and lost limbs, rose proudly and saluted grimly – solemnly. The fire in their eyes once more renewed, they braved themselves for what was soon to come.
They shouted to darkening skies, readied their weapons for the slaughter. For the man ahead of them all, they would not fall until they gave their all. So was the heart of the Saviors! So was the pride of this army born of ashes and blood.
This moment in time was shown to the living who still remained of the new, yet broken world. The survivors of the Outbreak could only watch in awed silence as their hearts were gripped further, their future King leading at the helm of the vanguard to wreak havoc. To endure and seek victory despite the insurmountable odds, and to actually do it.
By his guiding light, no quarter was to be given, nor taken. By his command and example, all would stand unyieldingly, undauntingly. His words enchanted the heart and ensnared the soul, be it the men and woman of the present day or the Saviors of the past dead and buried.
Isak’s recorder captured the image of Negan in all his tattered grace and bloodied glory perfectly. Standing tall and imposing, wounded yet refusing to fall. The Savior, unsung and unknown save for those who followed him to hell for those they loved.
The Noble. The Valiant. The Few.
The Saviors…
Heavy-lidded, eyes blacker than coal gaze down at the young woman squatting between his knees. Her little mouth is full of him, her hands, too. Slippery sounds of wet and want fill the man’s private quarters from corner to corner. They’re not quiet, they never are. He doesn’t care, and neither does she. Not anymore.
He hits the back of her throat and grunts, and then she takes him a little farther still. ‘’Fuck,’’ he growls, all ten toes pulling up towards his ankles as she brings him closer to a razors edge.
Two seams of mossy-green rise to capture his – he knows she’s in the mood to play games but is serious about her efforts all the same. There’s a mischievous mirth that lives there, an unholy prayer of protestation that turns him on to the point of pain. He likes that. Cock so hard and balls so full he feels every beat of his heart with every pass and stroke of her tongue.
She pulls him from of her freshly fucked red lips, gathers a bulk of her own spit and coats her palms and fingers generously. The liquid is thick and dripping, just the way she knows her man loves.
A freshly slick hand encircles him while the other ventures south between her glistening folds to tease an achingly-empty hole slick with want and dripping with need.
‘’You playin’ with yourself, baby girl?’’ he manages to growl, the stirring of an orgasm already tightening the muscles in his lower back at the mere mention of it.
She laps the head of his member and sucks in a leaking droplet of pre-cum.
‘’Mmm,’’ she sounds off to him in affirmation as her mouth is full. ‘’Tastes so good,’’ she whispers, before going down for more. The young woman continues on…teasing, stroking, squeezing and releasing in a chaotic rhythm she knows with certainty her man loves.
His thick and hard cock bobs there a moment as she licks only the tip, her hands momentarily elsewhere. She cups and squeezes her full breasts with both eyes on his as she takes his cock a half-inch at a time. Slow, so very slow.
‘’H-holy hell, baby.’’ He reaches into her mess of chestnut curls and tightens a grasp, feels the silk of her hair burn his skin.
It won’t be long.
A hand returns to grip his cock just a little harder as the other travels south again, encircling the swollen belly above on its way down; she slaps her opening one-two times before noticing a slight shift as Negan tries to bend forward a measure.
‘’Fucking hell…that sounds good. Show me what belongs to daddy, baby girl.’’
He levels to gain a better angle but Maggie swallows his cock, bottoming out, and he can’t do anything but lean against the seat’s rear cushion as his hips snap in response to her gained fervor.
‘’Holy…what in in the…fuck…’’
She pays herself a few more swats and proceeds to push and pull two fingers in and out of her drooling pussy. It’s a rhythmic cadence to her aching sex, loud and begging for her significant other to fill her and stay within her depths. His woman mumbles something then that Negan can’t discern – and it doesn’t matter – but feels a line of tension on the verge of snapping.
It’s a high-voltage cable yanked from its moorings, sparking wild and uncontrollably by the vibrations in her throat.
‘’Oh, fuck. Just like that, baby girl.’’ He heaves in air and claws at the arms of the chair in desperation.
‘’Baby – I…gonna – I’m comin’ –'’
Negan was startled awake in the dead of night to find his cock hard and throbbing, nestled firmly between the cleft of Maggie’s ass. The young woman in question moaned softly in her sleep, seemingly affected by the man who held her tightly throughout the night.
With a shaky breath, Negan tentatively removed himself from Maggie as best he could so as to not wake her. Just as he moved away however, Maggie rolled over to coil her leg over his waist, resting her head on his chest before moving her hand to claim its rightful place over his heart.
Negan was stunned in place at the sudden shift in movement, and for a brief moment he nearly believed Maggie to be awake. Seeing as how her eyes were still closed and she breathed out a small sigh in contentment, he relaxed his vigilance.
Negan put a hand to his face and ran his fingers through his unkempt beard. The older man stared at the ceiling above as he struggled to place himself.
Negan was confused, the dream so vivid and real he had a hard time believing it wasn’t. Most nights he dreams of the war, the screams and suffering. Most fade into a bitter taste of blood lingering on the tongue when he wakes, but this was different.
The man knew he would have no such dreams with Maggie by his side, that her warmth and presence would ward away the nightmares. But this…the dream Negan had was a torture all in its own.
Faintly the man could see the outlined curve to her hip beneath the duvet, the softness of her breasts pressed against his body doing nothing to dispel the raging of his cock. Maggie was intoxicating, a sweetness hard not to devour.
And me…I’m hungry for it all. Damn it, Maggie. Do you know how hard it was for me not to taste you? To ravage you when you put your small hands on my cock? Just the sight of you there between my legs…
His thoughts consumed by the young woman coiled over him, Negan couldn’t help but reach out with his hand. He traced the outlined curve to her ass from atop the sheets, traced her plump lips that fervently kissed him not long ago with his finger.
Slowly, he pushed his thumb past the seams of her lips, imagined that it was his cock instead. Her small mouth would wrap perfectly around me, he thought.
The heat of her mouth, the slickness of her tongue beneath his thumb, Negan felt the maddening urge to just take his cock and thrust mercilessly into Maggie’s little mouth, feel those soft plump lips wrap around his thick length.
It was with a shuddered breath that the man reluctantly withdrew his finger. He moved his other hand to go beneath the duvet, reaching south until his palm stopped atop Maggie’s belly. He thought back to his dream, imagined the swelling where his palm now rested.
It was a maddening thing then, to feel the heat of her smooth and unblemished skin beneath his touch, the thought of spilling his seed into the depths of her womb; having her belly swollen with his child.
So many beautiful dreams. A home out in the meadows with you by my side, husband and wife. You pregnant with our child. And then there’s this one…the one I have yet to wake up from. I’m afraid even now that it ain’t real. Afraid I’ll wake up at Alexandria and see you with those eyes strung up high with hatred.
It all began to be too much for the man weary and still exhausted. His raging lust and fears, his worries and burdens of the past. They would not resolve themselves so long as he stayed a moment longer, but could he ever truly leave?
Negan looked down to see Maggie’s head on his chest, sleeping contentedly as her long mane of curls covered the better half of her face. He cupped her cheek then, stroked her cheekbone gently with the pad of his thumb before deciding to get up and out of the bed.
‘’I’m not leaving you, Maggie,’’ he whispered softly. ‘’I swear.’’
Just as he eased himself out of the bed and turned to walk away, Negan noticed that Maggie was beginning to frown in her sleep, her eyelashes starting to tremble. He could see that the hand that rested over his heart moments earlier was beginning to move once more in search of him.
It touched his heart something fierce to see it, and it broke the man further to know just how dearly Maggie needed him. Even in her sleep she could not rest easy without him by her side.
I’m sorry, babydoll. I just need a breather. A minute to collect myself.
It would be disastrous to say the least if Maggie woke up to see him leaving the bed and putting on his clothes to go outside. Thinking quick on his feet, Negan grabbed the second pillow from his side of the bed and gave it to Maggie, and watched in fascination as she twined her body, arms and legs around the pillow as if it were him.
He waited with bated breath, watched further for any sign of restlessness. Thankfully for Negan, his quick thinking seemed to do the trick. Maggie settled down after that, her expression easing off into peace.
I won’t be long, baby. I promise.
‘’This is my least favorite life
The one where you fly and I don’t
A kiss holds a million deceits
And a lifetime goes up in smoke
This is my least favorite you
Who floats far above earth and stone
We’re wandering in the shade
And wrestle in fallen leaves
A bird on the edge of a blade
Lost now forever, my love, in a sweet memory…’’
Negan blew out a puff of blue smoke from his black cigarette. The woman who sang put down her guitar after finishing her song, her sonorous voice trailing off into silence as she looked to him with a smile in her honeyed amber eyes.
The young man clapped slowly, raised his glass from where he sat at the bar in a gesture of applause. The crowd that surrounded the gorgeous woman dressed in black finally awoke from their stupor when they heard him and followed with a thunderous cheer of their own.
Negan turned back around as the crowd cheered and hollered for another song, taking to his drink the same color as the woman’s eyes. Honeyed amber swirled in his glass, a fire he drank slowly to nurse the wounds of war that ached.
He had stopped paying attention to the commotion behind him, but that otherworldly voice never emerged thereafter. Negan felt a trace of disappointment in his heart but shook his head. He drank the last of the whiskey in his hand before motioning at the bartender.
Just as the man came by, a slender hand held to Negan’s shoulder, that angelic voice that gripped him moments earlier voicing out, ‘’I didn’t think you would come.’’ The woman nodded towards the bartender. ‘’His drink is on me, Mark. I’ll have a daquiri, please.’’
The beautiful woman smiled at Negan as she sat down next to him, a little curl to her glossy red lips as she asked, ‘Offer a lady a cigarette?’’
When he only looked to her stoically in silence, her smile faded into a look of astonishment. ‘’Oh you don’t even smile,’’ she said softly, a trace of sadness to her tone.
The bartender, Mark, had just come around and placed down their drinks. Looking at the honeyed amber in his glass and looking at the woman’s eyes gentle and soft that never left him, Negan couldn’t help but take a deep breath.
‘’You wouldn’t want to smoke these. Take my word for it…’’ His voice trailed off as he looked to her questioningly.
She held out her hand for him to shake, and with a slight hesitation the man took it. Negan couldn’t help but look at her small hand overtaken in his, every inch of his scarred skin a stark contrast to hers smooth and fair.
‘’Lucille,’’ she answered his unspoken question. ‘’And you?’’ she asked softly, that voice of hers plucking on his heartstrings like he’d never felt before – didn’t think possible after all that he’d done and suffered.
Negan cleared his throat and let go of the hand he had held for too long, wanted to look away but found he couldn’t. She smiled again at him when he was just about to, and this time for some reason he couldn’t just brush it off.
‘’Negan,’’ he said hoarsely. ‘’My name is Negan.’’
Lucille took a sip of her drink before looking back at him. ‘’I have to give credit where it’s due. That song you heard just now? Well, I got a bit of inspiration after seeing you smoke against the balcony.’’
‘’Don’t mention it,’’ said Negan as he swirled the amber in his glass. ‘’You got some serious talent. Hearing you strum your guitar in the morning, listening to you sing at night…thank you.’’
Lucille tilted her head at that.
‘’For?’’
Negan shrugged, wanted to keep quiet and enjoy his drink, but the softness in Lucille’s eyes spurned him to speak.
‘’It helps me sleep at night’’ he confessed. ‘’Makes my day, really. I got nightmares, bad ones too. And your voice…’’ Negan chuckled weakly. ‘’You’re like an angel, Lucille. What can I say?’’
A song had come on then just after he spoke, and Negan watched in fascination as her smile grew brighter. ‘’An angel, huh?’’
Lucille got up and held out her hand to him again. ‘’If not a cigarette, then how about a dance with your angel?’’ She spoke in a teasing tone, but her eyes were far from playful; the amber held within strong and serious.
Negan looked to her outstretched hand, and hesitantly took it after a moment’s beat.
Maybe it was the drinks he had beforehand. Maybe it was her song and that voice paired with that gentle amber bejeweled within her eyes, or the warmth of her hand that for a single moment made him feel alive again – Negan couldn’t ever know as to why he reached out to hold her hand.
But he did, and he’d soon come to find it was the best decision he’d ever made.
As if afraid that he’d suddenly change his mind, Lucille held to his arm firmly. She let out a small laugh at the puzzled look on his face as she guided him over to the dancefloor, and the sight of her then wiped away any regret Negan might’ve had for accepting.
The man hadn’t forgotten about his drink on the bar that offered to help him forget all his wounds – if only for a night, but there was a honeyed amber held in this woman’s eyes that made all else pale in comparison.
This woman – Lucille – her eyes promised something real that no amount of alcohol could. A real warmth that was not fleeting. A joy he could only dream of and a happiness just out of reach, and yet…it was there.
None of these things for me…and yet…I want it. Maybe…just maybe…I can have it. Just this once…
Lucille offered her hand, and Negan took it. He didn’t know why exactly he did, but something in him broke before it could bend. Something in him yearned, and maybe this was it. What he wanted but never had.
Negan took it before it could disappear for good.
Lucille spun around and faced him as they finally came to the center of the dancefloor, the jukebox blaring loudly a song Negan would never forget until the day he died.
He held to Lucille’s waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes never breaking from his as the lyrics to the song rung in both their racing hearts.
You are so beautiful…
…to me
Can’t you see?
You’re everything I hoped for
You’re everything I need
You are so beautiful…
…To me
For the first time in a long time, Negan smiled. A slight curve of his lips that didn’t look like much, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the woman in his arms.
Lucille never missed anything when it came to him, this neighbor of hers who captured her curiosity and interest. This man who smoked silently day and night, closed those eyes blacker than coal and listened to her sing and play beneath the stars and waking sun.
No, not at all. This angel never missed a beat, and when the time came she took her opportunity. And so, when she saw the small smile that played on his lips, she grinned with a flutter to her heart.
‘’Anyone ever tell you how handsome you are when you smile, Negan?’’
The man snorted softly and shook his head, that small smile of his never fading. ‘’Didn’t know I could.’’
Lucille didn’t miss the pain and sorrow laced beneath his words, held to him all the tighter for it. ‘’Well, you do. You’re a very handsome man, Negan. It’s good to smile, don’t you think?’’
Negan held to her waist dressed in black, drowned in her sea of honeyed amber as she grinned up at him. He towered over her, Lucille’s chin barely coming up to his chest.
An angel…
Negan nodded, his soft smile growing just a bit brighter because of her, this angel of a woman who gave him a chance.
‘’It feels good,’’ he replied gently. ‘’Makes me feel…alive.’’
On this cold and rainy night, a man and a woman swayed gently to the music – to a song that they would sway softly to every year thereafter on their anniversary.
Negan sat down on the chair he had been chained up to not long ago, the fire held within the metal barrel nothing but embers and ash – a dull glow of a dying warmth.
Bodies of the dead survivors he killed were strewn about, and the memories of the past seemed all but a dream worn and creased.
Looking to the dying warmth – the embers fighting a losing battle against the endless cold – Negan felt much the same in his heart.
‘’Felt this way for a long time ever since you flew up on ahead, my angel. Just a slow death, growing colder every day without you. I…’’ Negan clenched his fist as he felt the stinging tears that cascaded down his cheek, felt all the more exhausted that his emotions were being wrung out of him once more.
His face never changed from its stoic expression, but the eyes were a window to the soul, and his cried silently. For Lucille, for himself, and for the woman upstairs who couldn’t live without him. A woman named Maggie.
‘’I’m afraid, Lucille. I don’t know what’s right anymore. I don’t know the way ahead. Maggie she – you’d have liked her. She’s as tough as they come.’’ Negan chuckled emptily as he combed a hand through his rugged hair.
‘’And like you she doesn’t take no for an answer. She’s unrelenting, fierce and strong. She shouldn’t have to need me. She shouldn’t have had to endure what I’ve put her through, nor what the world has done to her.’’
Negan looked to the glowing embers barely breathing and smiled weakly. ‘’I’m afraid. I’ve been given another chance. Maggie is giving me a chance, and yet…’’
…I’m lost, my angel. Been adrift ever since you flew high on up and left me down here. You were my strength, my purpose. I’m lost without you, and she…I found her. I found Maggie and gained what I lost, but it’s all wrong, baby girl. I’m all that’s wrong…
The man old and weary sighed. More than anything he just needed the time alone to think, far from Maggie. She was affecting him like no other. He’d get lost in her green eyes and forget everything, fall for her smile and infectious joy; let go of all that weighed on him and held him back.
Even now Negan could smell her on his skin, an inviting warmth that called to him to go back to her.
It was that same warmth he found in Lucille. Hard to resist, a promise for something real. And like Lucille, Maggie gave him those same soft eyes, gentle like water. A siren’s call to drown in them and be with her.
Negan licked his lips, tried to recall the touch of hers and the taste of her. He could just as easily return to Maggie, taste those lips rather than sit here in the cold trying to remember. And yet…
‘’I want to do right by her, Lucille. I see her smile and I smile back, but then I remember her looking up at me all those years ago. See Maggie on her knees with tears in her eyes and pain, and I see a monster in those green eyes. I see me.’’
I’m all that’s wrong…
He could allow himself to take care of her, to be by her side. Protect and serve, the duty and honor of the soldier. He could be that for her.
But to be her man, to take root in her heart and love and be loved…Negan just didn’t know. Of course he wanted that, he’d love nothing more than to be her man and Maggie his woman. He fell for her along the way, as much as he tried not to. As stupid and pathetic as it was for him to fall for the woman he widowed.
But I’m poison. I’m the monster. Damn it, Maggie. I’m trying to be a good man, and I’m failing cause of you. I’ve fallen for you…
This need and dependency she had for him; it wasn’t healthy. She wasn’t healed like he’d hoped. Something once broken, even if pieced back together again, will never be the same. He knew that better than anyone, but he’d hoped for Maggie that it wouldn’t be true. That ol’ Rhee would be back and up again just as she had been on that day she confronted him in his cell.
How wrong I was…
Who was this woman embraced within his arms? Who kissed him and washed him free of blood and grime, held to him so desperately and had him swear to never leave her? Where was the woman who wanted him dead, if not to rot? Where was the hatred and the anger? Cause he couldn’t find any of it when he looked Maggie in her long green eyes.
Negan couldn’t exactly push her away. Maggie wouldn’t understand. It would hurt her feelings just beginning to open, and rather than her heart closing on him it might just shatter instead.
She needed him. Him. Negan couldn’t understand, or maybe he did but couldn’t justify going forward thinking it was wrong. That he had somehow taken advantage, manipulated this woman who hated him so wholly and twisted her to where she couldn’t live without him.
Negan only wanted to try and help, to heal what he himself had damaged. He may not have been the first to put a fracture on her soul, to hurt Maggie, but he was one of them.
He’d need to talk to her when daylight broke. He had to. But until then…
Until then…
The man knew his hesitance hurt her. He could see how she visibly reacted, how it pained her physically. But Negan couldn’t help but hesitate. Was he only making her dependency on him grow worse? Should he push her away and distance himself? It would hurt the woman beyond words after everything, but if it meant she didn’t need him the way she did now…
A dark part of the man, the hideous and ugly shadow to his heart delighted in Maggie’s dependency, all but thrived at her need for him. It warred with the man he was trying to be, and Maggie’s actions and enticing words were making his control on himself slip.
It took everything he had not to claim and mark, to make her his in every way. To not bruise those lips of hers and sink his hands into the curved roundness of her ass. It was why he was going back and forth on everything, falling and barely catching himself from going further, doing something he believed she’d come to regret sooner or later.
‘’I shouldn’t know what Maggie looks like under her clothes. Shouldn’t know what it feels like to have my hands on her, or to have such pretty eyes look at me softly like you did. I’m lost, Lucille. Ever since you went on ahead, I’ve been nothing but lost without you. Maggie – she’s everything. She’s the light I lost since you died. I see it again, and I feel. Like you, she makes me feel alive…’’
The light pierced the darkness. Negan grabbed it once, long ago. It came in the form of a kind and loving woman who held her hand out to him, smiled at him with eyes of honeyed amber.
Lucille was his light, and the world grew dark again when she died. Negan was left alone in a sea of dark, left to drown in his sins and sorrow now that his light was gone. Left to fester in rage and bitterness in a world without her.
Years would pass, and the light pierced the darkness once more. It wouldn’t come again, Negan knew. This was his last chance. But it wasn’t the same. The world was darker, crueler than before when the light last shined upon his soul stained black with sin.
The woman who held her hand out to him this time knew the monster that he was. Suffered for it, hurt by it. She came not with amber, but with emerald. The promise of Maggie’s blinding light shouldn’t have been salvation, but eternal damnation.
‘’I can be her soldier. Kill for her, protect her. I was willing to serve until I got her back to her people. That was the plan! Get Maggie back to her peoples and then leave or be killed. I wasn’t supposed to want her. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. And Maggie, she wasn’t supposed to know.’’
Negan chuckled emptily at the thought of it all, clenched his jaw so hard he threatened to break his teeth.
‘’What am I supposed to do, Lucille?! Have I failed after all?’’ Negan sighed and breathed in the cold air, felt it grip his lungs as he looked to the faces of the people he killed frozen over in horror.
‘’This is where I belong!’’ yelled out Negan. ‘’Down here in the cold, amongst the dead,’’ whispered the man. ‘’Not up there in the comfort of her warmth. Maggie, she told me it’s who we are now that matters. Yet, who I am hasn’t changed. The monster in me never stops. Never sleeps. I see it, and it sees me.’’
The Whistler stood just beyond the shadows, staring at the exhausted man with eyes tortured and cruel. The monster came when the silence approached, when Negan was alone. It never came when Lucille was by his side, never when he had Maggie.
No. Negan only came to see his ghost when the silence emerged. When the blood started to drip off his hands and the killing was soon to begin, once it ended.
He saw it when he opened the door to see Lucille a shell of the woman she once was, his monster lurking in the darkness of the room as the man contemplated in silence his wife’s death and his failure.
Saw it when he had Rick and the rest all lined up, his monster towering in the darkness held beyond the trees as he chose Ford. As he spilled blood cruelly and mercilessly.
Always there. Always watching. It was there when he paid his respects to the former soldier and the man named Glenn. When his reckoning was on the horizon.
As the blood spilled between his fingers as he held to his throat torn open once more, felt it pool beneath him as Rick walked away in victory.
It emerged and watched from the corner as Maggie dragged him out of the cell, watched vacantly as Negan was beaten and left to rot – forever denied the mercy of death.
It watched as he sprinted to get to Maggie before what was left of her son could, looked on as Negan took Maggie in his arms and away from the burning ashes of a fallen Alexandria.
The Whistler came when he killed these people for his and Maggie’s safety and survival. Looked to him with those same eyes as the darkness rooted within him flared to life at the prospect of murder, at staining his hands with blood once more.
It was always there in moments of darkness. Waiting and watching. Always present in those cruel moments in time that would forever define the man’s life. When the blood spilled and his enemies replied with a deafening cry. When the man played god like the chosen one and the damage was done.
It was there always, the Whistler watching with quiet interest for the day of its inevitable return.
‘’The hell do you want?’’ whispered Negan brokenly.
The Whistler slowly stepped forward, a towering figure with the physique of a monstrous beast. One more monster than man. His younger reflection emerged from the shadows bare-chested, all the scars Negan bore torn open and weeping.
The Whistler mimicked Negan’s tears with that of red. Tears of blood cascaded as the monster of a broken soldier approached, stopping just before the old man who was his present self.
The Whistler tapped a finger on the black box held in Negan’s lap. After Negan had snuck out from bed, it was the first thing he looked for. Like the ghost of his past, held within was an item of those dark and terrible days. Black as sin, the wooden box. Black as sin, the beauty held within.
You won’t make it.
Negan’s eyes widened with shock at the abrupt emergence of the guttural voice. The Whistler had spoken; made noise. In all his years the ghost of his past had only looked on as Negan went forward with his life. A silent observer unable to speak with its throat torn apart.
For the first time his monster spoke; a snarl of blood, wrath and sorrow that carved the frigid air with an ominous truth.
The embers ceased to live. The dull glow that strugglingly breathed life into the darkness was murdered after the Whistler spoke, leaving Negan to be swallowed completely in utter despair.
Negan looked up from the ashes scattered by the wind and was trapped by his very own eyes. A mirror to his very own soul. Held within the Whistler’s eyes were all the inevitable tragedies that awaited. Reflected within were dark skies and falling rain, a green bird flittering amongst the raindrops before fading…like it never existed.
Negan opened his mouth to speak, but the Whistler shook his head – turned and walked away. His monster whistled a haunting tune as it merged with the howling winds, became one with the vast sea of white.
The man blinked then at the sudden sight of white, not knowing when he had come outside. He had no recollection of leaving, of losing track of time.
Was I even there at all sitting down? Did I leave, or am I just returning? I don’t know…Something’s wrong with me. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Negan turned and looked all around, finding Sanctuary to be far in the distance. Slowly the man looked down, the black box grasped tightly in his trembling hands glazed with frost.
Negan closed his eyes and steadied himself just as he tasted blood, felt the warmth of it roll down his eyes, seeped from the corner of his mouth and nose.
I move beneath the roar of thunder and fall of rain. Among monsters do I bleed, broken and torn. I come from the night , and to the night I shall return.
‘’I know,’’ whispered Negan grimly. ‘’I always knew!’’ yelled out Negan in the direction the Whistler departed, his voice drowned out by the screeching winds.
Honeyed amber and emerald green surfaced in his mind, sacred colors of divine vibrance and purity that should never have been his to keep; be held within their radiant reflection.
Negan laughed crazily, felt the weight of the world pushing down on him like never before. Killing was easy. Being a monster was like breathing air. But to hold and be held, to love and be loved…to be human…a good man…
’’And yet, I will try. For her…’’
Lucille…Maggie…I will try. For you, I will carry the world if that’s what I must. I’ll do whatever it takes. Pay whatever the price. For you…always…
For her, he would never falter.
Negan hid the black box in a secure location before moving to enter the bedroom. The man braced himself for the worst just as walked in, breathing out a silent sigh of relief when he saw that Maggie was still fast asleep.
He hadn’t planned on being outside in the midst of a raging blizzard, but thankfully when he snapped out and realized where he was, it didn’t take any longer than a couple minutes to return to Sanctuary.
Negan kept himself at a distance, going to the bathroom to change out of his clothes and slowly acclimate himself to the warmer temperature before slipping into bed by Maggie’s side.
Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, Negan almost couldn’t recognize the face reflected. Back at his prison in Alexandria, the man grew to hate looking at himself in the mirror. Stopped grooming himself because of it.
He didn’t even want to catch sight of himself, and so he broke the mirror with his fist. In time he grew to hate even looking outside the bars to the world beyond, looking at a freedom he would never have again.
Or so I thought…
And so he broke the mirror, shielded the window to the outside with what he could until he was amidst nothing but the darkness, held himself to the silence that he feared for what it would do to him should he break.
Memories of the past cut him like a blade, of what they did to him during the war. Better to relive the pain than to feel the freedom taken, the light once his now beyond his reach forever more.
And now for the first time in years Negan took a good look at himself, and the man aged and weary didn’t know what to think or feel now that he saw his face after so long. He could hardly recognize himself, and maybe that was for the better.
Damn do I need to shave this shit. Cut all this off. I could rock a fucking manbun with how long my hair has grown, and that shit is not allowed. Way too old for that.
Negan angled his face, stretched his jaw a bit and smirked.
Oh yeah, still handsome. Could definitely break a couple hearts and find myself a…
His brow furrowed in consternation as that last thought trailed away. It slipped his mind for a second that he already had someone. That his was a fierce and unyielding woman named Maggie.
Do I? Is she my woman? I left to clear my head and make a decision, but I’m back now still asking myself the same thing. Still wondering and hesitating.
Negan sighed and held to the corners of the sink, looked to the bathtub and the candles no longer lit. The conversations, the words she spoke to him and the things she did, Negan couldn’t ever have imagined things going down the way they had.
The man didn’t expect her to try and thank him for all he did, to speak to him softly instead of coldly. He expected a thousand different things from Rhee, all of which ended with him having broken bones or spilled blood.
Never would I have thought…could ever have imagined it turning out like this.
Her coming up to him with that baseball bat earlier, that was more in line with what Negan was thinking. He was ready for it. Hell, he was looking forward to the day ever since the years stretched on and the silence grew.
Finally…
Negan was ready to die. To get it over with and be done with it all. And yet, when the moment came and his death seemed near, everything turned out to be false. A test from Maggie to him, a final one from what he gathered.
Dropping the last article of clothing left on his body, Negan checked his stitches and traced the scars littered across his body. He thought back to the Whisperer, the many scars torn open and bleeding.
Weren’t scars just yet back in those days, but wounds freshly made. Sometimes I forget what I went through, easier on the soul than to remember. Damn bastard. Always reminding me. Always ruining my fucking day.
Negan touched his bare skin, made sure he wasn’t seeping the cold from the outside any longer. When he was certain, he finally left the bathroom and moved to get into bed.
The man smiled softly at the sight of Maggie still clinging onto the pillow like it was him, but then Negan frowned at the realization that he’d have to pry the thing out of her clutching hands and coiled legs before he could go to bed.
Shit. I might wake her up if I’m not careful enough.
Negan slowly leaned over the edge of the bed and moved to unclasp Maggie’s hand, but just as he tried Maggie frowned and grabbed at the pillow even harder, clutching it closer to her body. Negan winced at the sudden increase of difficulty but had no other choice than to try again.
Why the hell do I do put myself in these situations? C’mon Rhee, give me something to work with.
The man thought for a second, wondering what he could possibly do to get Maggie to let go. His eyes wandered as he began to think, moving across her lithe body until stopping abruptly at her feet hidden beneath the bedsheets.
Negan remembered how sensitive Maggie was when he held her foot earlier in the bathtub, and it gave him an idea that might just work if he played his cards right.
The man reached beneath the covers until his hand was near Maggie’s feet. Slowly he brushed the edge of his fingernail along the arch of her foot, the pressure he applied as light as a feather.
At first his actions seemed to do nothing at all, but with a bit more pressure Maggie scrunched her nose in displeasure and uncoiled her legs from the pillow, moving to shy away from his playful hand.
Negan didn’t miss the sight of her hands temporarily undoing themselves from the pillow. Seeing what might very well be his one and only chance, the man was quick to replace the pillow with himself, sliding into bed as gracefully as a man over fifty possibly could without breaking something in his body.
Negan looked to the woman by his side, and seeing her eyes still closed he breathed out a silent sigh of relief. After a moment’s hesitation, he kissed her softly on the lips. A gentle press of his to hers before shifting flat on his back, an arm under his head as he began to think.
Well that was fun, but damn if I didn’t nearly pop something out of place. Nearly froze my balls off from the cold, and I don’t even want to imagine the hell I’d be coming to if Maggie was awake when I walked in.
Negan made some minor adjustments and got himself comfortable before closing his eyes. With a slight exhale he began to drift off, let the exhaustion of the day take hold. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or what was right of him to do regarding Maggie, but he made peace with the fact that they lived to see another day.
And that’s what matters. Left, right, left, right…One step at a time. Just keep marching, soldier. One day before the next. Until you fall. Until there’s nothing left worth fighting for.
Just as he was beginning to fall asleep with that harrowing thought lingering in his heart, Negan felt a sudden weight settle atop his waist. A searing pain on his chest and the abrupt weight on his lower stomach caused the man’s eyes to open wide with shock.
What he saw made his thundering heart jump to his throat. Maggie, in all her naked beauty, had climbed atop him; straddled Negan by the waist and cut his chest with her knife. The cold blade gleamed in the night as it carved his skin, and the man felt the warmth of his blood begin to spill.
‘’Why?’’ she uttered harshly. ‘’Why do you always leave me? You swore to me!’’ She swiped at Negan again with her blade as she thought back to all the times he walked away.
Negan with his back turned to her, the veil of snow taking him from her as he walked alone to Sanctuary. Him leaving her alone in the bathtub after all that had happened, denying her request to stay and disappearing into the shadows beyond.
And now again he’s left me!
Negan sucked in a sharp breath as the blade cut him again, but the man kept calm despite the searing pain of the sharp blade held in her hand.
‘’Maggie, what the hell are you talking –‘’
The young woman instantly saw through his lie and cut him again, this time deeper and far more cruelly. ‘’Your only saving grace is the kiss you gave me just now; else I’d have cut you lower down south. The truth, Negan. Now,’’ growled out Maggie.
Negan closed his eyes and sighed before opening them again. He spoke with as best a soothing voice as he could given the circumstances, wanting to defuse the situation before it could escalate further.
‘’Rhee, listen to me I – ‘’
Maggie moved the blade vehemently from his chest to his throat, the pressure she put against Negan forcing him to shut up before he could finish his sentence. ‘’Don’t call me that! Don’t you ever call me that!’’ Maggie screamed at him, snarled viciously at the name he called her.
‘’I ain’t Rhee, you hear me?! That’s not me. Not Greene. Not Rhee. I’m just Maggie…’’ Emeralds militant and mossy gleamed in the dead of night, glared down at the man from high above ferally. The intensity of her eyes and the weight of her words piercing Negan’s heart.
A rivulet of blood cascaded down the man’s throat, the trauma of past memories urging Negan to take the blade away by force. And yet, Negan forced down the rising tension within, slowly moved to instead wrap his large hands gently over the small and trembling one that held the knife to his throat.
‘’Alright, Maggie. I hear you, alright? My mistake. It won’t happen again, so why don’t you put down the knife and we just…’’
…talk peacefully. No need for this to get bloody…
Negan’s next words died on his tongue as Maggie leaned closer, her hair a veil that shrouded her expression.
‘’I won’t let you leave me,’’ whispered Maggie darkly. The blade against his throat kissed his skin harder, and Negan swallowed audibly.
‘’I called out for you, and you didn’t answer. Your clothes were gone, and the door to the bedroom was left open. You weren’t there. Why weren’t you there? Why, Negan?! Why weren’t you by my side? Why did you leave!? I – I was going to…had you not walked in when you did…’’
Maggie woke up when she felt Negan’s side of the bed was freezing cold, opened her eyes to realize that it wasn’t him she was coiled around, but a pillow. How confused she was, how scared she felt in her heart as she searched the darkness madly – crazily for the man who promised to never leave her.
The howling of the wind beyond the glass mirrored that of her despairing heart, the imposing darkness of the room perfectly encapsulating how she felt without him; blind and lost. Alone in a world without light.
Maggie was beginning to tremble, and it wasn’t from the cold. Anger and fear swelled at the knowledge that he had been gone and she didn’t notice. That if she hadn’t heard his footsteps coming down the hallway when she did, she’d have given in to the despair that settled in her heart.
Teardrops fell onto Negan’s shocked face, cascaded off his cheeks. The fear and anger in Maggie’s heart spilled out in the form of tears, and it was then that Negan truly understood the consequences to his actions, how grave a mistake it was to leave Maggie alone by herself.
It all came crashing down on the man. The blade in her hand wasn’t meant for himself, not at first. The implications behind her words and what was left unsaid slammed into him and left him gasping for breath.
‘’Y-you weren’t actually going to – ‘’
The realization that Maggie was moments away from killing herself had he not rushed back to Sanctuary shook Negan to his very core.
He didn’t care for the blade at his throat. Negan took Maggie into his arms and pressed her close against his wounded and bloody chest, clutched at her tightly like she would disappear if he didn’t.
‘’Please don’t leave me like this,’’ sobbed Maggie brokenly as Negan held her tightly in his embrace.
Negan blanked at her words, felt a ringing in his ears. Please don’t leave me like this. The written words Lucille left him – her final message to him – was now spoken word for word by the woman in his arms.
Lucille’s parting words surfaced to mind at the very beginning, spurned him to run towards Maggie and take her in his arms and away from a burning Alexandria.
And now…and now…
It nearly broke the man to know his mistake with Lucille had nearly been repeated with Maggie. The cruelty of such a thing, to know it had nearly happened again – that if he hadn’t rushed back…
Negan could picture it in his mind, see the white sheets stained darkly with blood. Could feel his heart sinking to his stomach at the thought that Maggie would have committed suicide believing him to have left her.
The beating of their hearts rung between the silence they breathed, and the two held to one another tightly until the young woman remembered why she cried, why she felt this throbbing pain in her heart.
For the first time Maggie broke free of Negan’s embrace. She breathed shakily as she resisted the temptation to just give in to the man’s warmth, refused to let things go until she knew why.
Looking at Negan’s devastated expression, a dark surge of satisfaction filled her heart. He hurt her, and Maggie wanted him to know her pain, get it through his head that her words weren’t just that. That when she told him she needed him, and that he needed her, it was the truth.
I can’t live without you. I need you, just as you need me, Negan. The only question is…
‘’Just what am I to you, Negan?’’ There was a fragileness to her voice, one that threatened to shatter should he falter for even a moment. Maggie held the knife still to his throat, rested her other hand flat against his chest where she hurt him just as he hurt her – right over his heart.
Her palm pressed firmly against the warm blood, her nails etching half-moons into his skin as she felt for his heartbeat.
Don’t lie to me again. Don’t break my heart any more than you’ve already done.
Negan recovered somewhat from the shocking revelation of what Maggie had nearly done to herself because of him, understood that this moment in time was a defining one for the both of them.
Negan raised his arms up to this naked goddess who looked to him so desperately, cupped her face with both hands and wiped away the tears that streaked down her cheeks.
He didn’t even have to think about it. He knew for a long time what Maggie was to him. Who this woman was in his heart ever since he got a taste of her blinding light, the hope in her eyes that made him continue forward and fight.
‘’My angel,’’ said Negan softly before bringing Maggie down and kissing her with all his heart’s intent. It wasn’t a ravishing kiss, not one of his thirst and hunger for the woman. No. This was the gentlest of kisses, a firm yet soft press to her finely-sculpted lips in an effort to convey his worship and love.
‘’You are everything to me, Maggie,’’ spoke the man after their lips parted. ‘’You steal my breath away with all that you are, baby girl. Those pretty green jewels.’’ Negan traced her lips with the pad of his thumb. ‘’These gracefully defined lips that make me want to kiss them again and again.’’
Maggie’s breath hitched as his hand traced the curvature of her jaw, felt a jolt of pleasure race down her spine as his rough and calloused hands ran down her neck and breasts, the hollow to her stomach before rising once more and resting over her heart.
The young woman snorted as her cheeks flushed with pleasure. ‘’You’ve got a way with words, Negan Smith. You say all that, and yet if an’ it were true, then why’d you leave me?’’ drawled Maggie in her southern accent.
‘’I didn’t leave you, Maggie. I’ll never leave you. I swore to you, remember?’’
Maggie’s hand holding the knife to Negan’s throat began to soften, and Negan gently pried open her fingers to take the blade away. He let it fall to the side of the bed, the clang of the blade hitting the floor hardly noticed by the young woman as she took in all that he said and did.
Maggie knew he wasn’t lying. Not when he called her his angel, not when he spoke every word of his love and sincerity. The way he looked up at her, the kiss of his lips to hers, the beating of his heart that could tell her no lies.
He meant it then when he said he didn’t leave her, making Maggie all the more confused and angrier.
‘’Then what was it then?! What the hell were you doin’ out of bed in the middle of the night? When there’s a damn blizzard outside no less? I thought we agreed, you ain’t going nowhere unless you’re takin’ me with you, Negan. That was final, remember?!’’
Maggie hammered his chest weakly with her fists before collapsing onto him. She had strained her already damaged voice, and abruptly a wave of exhaustion hit her from the rollercoaster of emotions she went through.
She was breathing raggedly, tears stinging the corner of her eyes again as Negan soothingly stroked the curve of her back and her long chestnut curls.
‘’I know, and I’m sorry,’’ said Negan sincerely. ‘’It was stupid of me to sneak out of bed. I wasn’t thinking, just felt the need to get out and let the cold air hit me. I was…I’ve been dreaming, Maggie.’’
So many beautiful dreams. A home out in the meadows with you by my side, husband and wife. You pregnant with our child. And then there’s this one…the one I have yet to wake up from. I’m afraid now it ain’t real. Afraid I’ll wake up at Alexandria and see you with those eyes strung up high with hatred.
Negan tells her of his dreams then, of the first one after the grenade went off. He retells how he fought for their survival, how she came to find him tied to a chair in the first place and the dream that followed.
Maggie’s heart was set with fright when he told her about the grenade, how close he was to really dying. She had heard an explosion following the gunshots, but wasn’t sure what it was exactly, or if she had misheard.
The young woman wondered what he was getting at by telling her all this, but then Negan told her the beginnings to his dream – was unexpectedly happy when he began to describe the beauty of it.
‘’I’d never seen anything like it. Woke up in a rocking chair to the setting sun, and the view we had – I wish you could have seen it, Maggie. Open land far as the horizon, just you and me.’’
Maggie looked up to him from where her head rested on his chest and smiled weakly. ‘’One day I’ll see it with you, Negan. Together.’’
The man smiled softly then, kissed her lovingly on her forehead before continuing on. Maggie’s heart was set aflutter when Negan told her of the meadow, the big white house they lived in and the porch. How she rested atop him just like she was doing now, but as husband and wife.
Maggie’s stomach couldn’t help but dance a spell at how Negan carried her in his dream, how he promised her to never leave just as he did in reality.
‘’Hell, you called me darlin’. You made me swear never to leave you, to take you wherever I went. Swear to god, Maggie. And then you said the exact same thing when you spoke to me for the first time in over a month. Same thing you said just now.’’
‘’It’s a sign that we’re meant to be, Negan.’’ whispered Maggie hoarsely. The young woman took it all as a sign that what they had together now was right. Meant to be, and that in time…
In time that dream will come true. It must. We’ll make it true.
‘’And then after we went to bed, you know how you woke up to a pillow instead of me? Well…’’
Negan sighed when he caught sight of Maggie’s narrowed eyes.
‘’I had a wet dream, alright? I just needed a little fresh air before I did something stupid. So I sneaked out and put a pillow to replace me, just until I came back. Hell, I…’’ Negan chuckled deprecatingly just as it hit him. ‘’…Still did something stupid…’’
Maggie gently scratched at his chest with her nails when he didn’t continue on, catching his attention before he could drift off further into his troubling thoughts.
‘’You mean to tell me a wet dream is the cause of all this?’’ Maggie didn’t know if she should laugh or cry, but the thought of punching Negan was looking really attractive the more she thought about it.
‘’I never would have gone out had I known –‘’ Negan sucked in a sharp breath as Maggie bit him hard on the chest, the opposite pec to where she had cut him.
Maggie let go and scrunched her little nose in displeasure. ‘’You ain’t telling the whole truth. What aren’t you sayin’ to me, Negan?’’
She refused to believe a wet dream alone was the cause to all this. He was telling the truth when he said he needed to get a breather, but there was more than he let on.
What aren’t you telling me?
Negan grimaced when he saw the toothmarks, but cracked a small smiled as a thought came to mind. I sure know how to pick ‘em. Just had to fall for a woman who can kick my ass and pick apart my bullshit. Sharp as a knife, this rose with thorns.
‘’This wet dream of mine…you were pregnant, Maggie. Pregnant with our kid,’’ said Negan with a trace of helplessness. He hesitated to speak on it, to reveal this part of his dream after the recent tragedy she had just went through.
More than the blowjob and her fingering herself, it was her belly swollen with their child that shook the man to the core and grabbed hold of him – spurned him to leave and clear his head. The image of her then and the possibility of making a family with Maggie made him think on everything, had him questioning himself all the more on what was right and wrong.
‘’Maggie?’’ Negan couldn’t see her face all that well in the darkness, couldn’t see clearly how his words affected her. He parted the veil of hair that shrouded her to reveal green eyes gleaming softly in the night, radiant emeralds that looked to him softly.
The way he said it – the emotion in Negan’s eyes as he revealed that final piece to the puzzle – made Maggie understand finally as to why he had to get out and be alone. His first dream of them being married and living peaceful and how he retold it, like an outsider looking in – to then her bearing their child…it finally made sense.
You idiot…you insufferable bastard of a man, thought Maggie both affectionately and sadly.
‘’I choose, Negan. And I chose you. Whether you’re underserving or not, that’s for me to decide. I can’t live without you. Not anymore. And this – ‘’ Maggie moved to put her forehead against his, looked him straight in the eye. ‘’ – I want this just as much as I need it. I need you just as much as I want you.’’
‘’I – I feel like I’m dreaming still, babydoll,’’ replied Negan wearily. ‘’That I’ll wake up for this all to have been a dream. I can’t live without you too. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you. I can’t lose you, Maggie.’’
Maggie moved lower after he spoke his worries, nipped at his lower lip before kissing Negan tenderly. ‘’This is real, Negan. What we have now is real.’’ She pressed her lips hard against his then, conveying to the man all that she desired and longed for. Her need and want for him and him alone.
When finally they broke apart, Maggie held to her man’s jaw and pulled at his unkempt beard. ‘’Let this be the first and last time you pull this shit on me. You hear me, darlin?’’
Darlin…
Maggie called him affectionately the same as she did in his dream, for in her heart it was another step towards making that dream real. Another step forward on making all his dreams she cherished and kept close to her heart of hearts a reality.
All of them…
‘’Never again,’’ said Negan seriously. ‘’Where you go, I go. And where I go, you go.’’ He promised, and Maggie didn’t have to hear the beating of his heart to know the truth of Negan’s promise to her.
The young woman nodded just as she felt her eyelids become heavy. ‘’You didn’t break your promise to me. I know now that you didn’t leave me, Negan. But you still hurt me. Please don’t hurt me anymore,’’ whispered Maggie brokenly.
Negan momentarily closed his eyes just as he felt a lump in his throat. ‘’I’m sorry, baby. I’m so very sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’’
Maggie looked to him as he apologized, and after a moment’s silence the young woman nodded, but not before saying, ‘’I know you didn’t, and that’s why I forgive you. I forgive you, Negan. So stay, and never leave me.’’
‘’I – ‘’ Negan swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned in to give Maggie a kiss on the lips. He coiled his fingers in her hair, held the edge of her jaw and kissed her this time like a man who’d drown if he didn’t. Like a man whose thirst could only be quenched with the taste of her.
Maggie kissed Negan just as fervently, moaned when his tongue pushed past the seams of her lips and twined his tongue with hers in a passionate exchange.
‘’I won’t ever let go of you, Maggie,’’ spoke the man breathlessly after their heated kiss. ‘’How could I ever leave my angel, my goddess?’’
The young woman smiled toothily, hid her growing blush by burrowing her face into the crook of Negan’s neck.
‘’Sweet-talker…’’ Maggie couldn’t meet his eyes then, because she knew he was dead serious.
His angel…his goddess… His words warmed her despairing heart, and with his confession lingering in her heart of hearts, Maggie was healed truly of the wounds given to her on this long and cold night.
Maggie finally gave in to her exhaustion, let her eyes close and give in to her man’s firm and warm embrace. Let those strong arms of his coil around her small body, secure her tightly to him with the intention of never letting go.
Seeing his woman begin to fall asleep, Negan sang softly. ‘’I’ll stay with you, by your side. So close your tired eyes, and I’ll wait…and soon I’ll see your smile in our dreams.’’
The young woman let out a deep breath and fell asleep still straddling Negan. Her small hand rested itself possessively over his heart, her chin tucked away in the crook of his neck with a soft smile to her lips.
Negan stayed up for just a little longer, stroking Maggie soothingly along the curve of her back as he recalled everything that had happened.
The man had almost lost her, and that simple fact destroyed him. It was too close a call, one that never should have been possible.
It just never occurred to Negan how greatly he was needed by Maggie, hard to wrap his head around that her of all people would need him. It never crossed his mind to think that Maggie would have ended her own life because he wasn’t there.
Because of me…
The dark images his mind painted haunted the man. The final message Lucille left him, the horror of what-if and the near reality of returning once more to a loved one who took their own life.
Negan shuddered at the thought, was only able to remain sane through the reassuring weight atop him – of the woman who refused to let him go.
The warmth of her skin pressed against his without any space left between, the beating of her heart against his and her scent of delicate florals and warm, earthy tones – it reminded him of what was real.
Maggie – she’s real. She’s alive and here with me. I haven’t failed. I won’t fail. I can’t…not with her.
Negan kissed Maggie atop her head and wrapped his arms around her. To the woman who refused to let him go, he would stay. Stay and be all that she needed and more.
To the flickering flame that threatened to die, he would shield it from the harsh winds and rain just as he did from the beginning – give himself entirely so that the flame may prosper once more.
‘’I will hold you…and protect you,’’ sang Negan in whispered tones into Maggie’s hair. ‘’So let love warm you…’’
I won’t let go of you, my angel.
