Outcast (A TWD Fanfiction)

Chapter 19: Winds of Change

"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster... When you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you." Friedrich Nietzsche

(PAST)

A few more days passed.

Carson stopped the man about to enter the room. "Negan, with all due respect, I'm not sure you should be here. She's in no state to be seeing anybody right now."

Ellen sat silently in the bed as she recuperated in Carson's office, her eye never leaving the window.

She could still feel the men's hands on her and hear their laughs.

"Doc brought you back from the fucking brink of death!"

She started, alarmed, when the voice spoke, coming from her blindside, ripping her away from her morbid thoughts.

"Shit, sorry!"

She was surprised when the man apologized and corrected himself, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down in a chair beside her.

"How are you?"

Ellen drew in a deep breath, wincing at the piercing pain that shot up from the sudden tightness in her rib. She closed her eye, before opening it and meeting Negan's concerned ones, wordless.

Negan looked down. "Yeah, I figured as much. I can't imagine what you must be--"

"Stop," Ellen growled in warning, clenching her teeth. "Don't want your sympathy."

Negan frowned, silently meeting her dangerous gaze again. He noted her empty, lifeless expression and couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness and anger overtake him.

"I need you to tell me who did this to you, when you're ready," he started slowly, cautiously. "We found one of the men, that guy from the ordeal in the market. Evan. You'd scratched him pretty fuckin good."

Ellen looked away, and Negan saw the sudden wave of rage flash in her eye.

"Ellen."

She felt their hands. That's all she could feel. She wanted to tear her skin off.

She wanted revenge. On her own terms.

"Ellen," he repeated after a minute, his voice sharper.

Ellen's scarred eye flashed back to him, and he was surprised by the sudden hostile look. He was reminded of the first days he'd met her, when her feral behavior reminded him of a cornered animal.

"Get out," she suddenly growled, her voice low, murderous.

Negan sighed, looking down at the floor. "You're not alone here. I want you to know that. What happened to you was--"

"Get out!" she snarled, clutching her stomach, sitting as far forward as she could till she looked like she'd leap out of the bed at him.

Negan stood up, and watched wordlessly as her face fell. He watched her, crestfallen, wiping the wetness away from her eye.

"Laura cares about you. I care about you. Hell, we all fucking care about you."

He felt the reluctance in his body to walk away, but his feet betrayed him. "You don't have to push everybody away like that, don't have to suffer alone. It's okay to be a goddamn human sometimes," he said slowly as he worked his way to the door.

Once he'd reached the door, he took a glance over his shoulder, taking in the woman's unusually frail appearance.

Her face was scrunched up as she looked away, and he noticed her ragged breaths, her chest heaving painfully beneath the covers as she silently cried.