"We have never heard the devil's side of the story, God wrote all the book." Anatole France
Ellen wrapped her knuckles in a bandage, wincing at the raw skin. She looked down into the water, leaf-strewn and babbling, her reflection morphed in the gentle current.
She rubbed at her blood-stained cheek, washing away the dark crimson that had crusted over with a sigh.
There was a pit in her chest, a dull ache at the thought of pushing these people away, and being pushed away, time and time again.
She brushed the feeling of sadness away, replacing it in instead with a hollow resentment. With a frustrated growl, Ellen slapped her hand over the surface of the water, sending the leaves and her reflection scattering.
Gritting her teeth, Ellen tucked her wraps back into her bag before climbing onto Speed's saddle.
---
Negan stood in the midst of uneasy whispers and hushed, conspiring conversations as he strode towards his old keep. Alexandrians slowly dispersed, nervous and watching the gate Ellen had just left through like the woman would come back with a vengeance.
He sighed, not knowing if or when he'd see her again.
"Hey, redneck, you should tighten these cuffs. Feels like they might fuckin fall off."
Daryl turned on him with a wordless glare.
Negan grinned at the welt that was developing on his face from where the woman left her mark, tickled by how easy it was to get on the man's nerves.
As Daryl led him away, Negan waited till they were away from the parting crowd before he spoke up. "Hey, wait."
Daryl hummed. "You got something to say? Keep it to yourself."
Negan stopped. "It's Ellen."
Reluctantly, Daryl turned back around to scowl at Negan. There was venom in his eyes, and for once Negan didn't crack a smile.
"I know you care about her. You can drop the fuckin tough guy act."
"Go on," Daryl growled.
Negan nodded. "I don't think she's okay."
Daryl scowled, before brushing the other man off and continuing. "Come on, I don't got all day."
"Hey, fuckin hear me out--"
"She just sent Michonne to the hospital with her bare hands! She's the toughest bitch I know. She'll be just fine. Get in," Daryl said, motioning to the door leading down to the basement.
Negan didn't budge. "While you two were bumpin' uglies, did she ever... I dunno, say anything fuckin spooky?"
Daryl blinked, the question throwing him off.
He bristled and squared up with Negan, narrowing his eyes. "You wanna try askin' me that again?"
Negan met the other man's eyes, shaking his head. He wasn't surprised. It's not like she told many people. He stepped past Daryl, into the darkness. "Nevermind."
Daryl followed him down the steps and when Negan entered the cell, he frowned, one last attempt before he was left alone with his thoughts.
"Ghosts."
Daryl froze, faltering before closing the cell door.
He eyed Negan warily, unsure what the other man knew. "We all got 'em."
YOU ARE READING
Outcast (A TWD Fanfiction)
Horror(DarylxOCxNegan) A medium prior to the apocalypse, aggressive outsider Eleanor has always had an abnormal connection with the dead. But in this new world, Ellen is forced to rely on her survival skills and nerve to withstand another monster entirely...
