In a world ruled by fear, survival comes with a price.
When her brother's attempt to overthrow the Saviors fails, Tessa finds herself under Negan's watchful eye-protected, controlled, and dangerously close to the man she should hate. As violence, po...
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Negan crouched low in front of Rick, Lucille hanging loose in his grip. Dirt pressed into his boots as he settled there, invading Rick's space deliberately. His grin was all teeth and menace, wide and expectant, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill.
"Here we are. Now, Rick... let me ask you something. Do you even know what that little trip was about?"
Rick stayed silent, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might shatter. His hands trembled against the ground, fingers digging into the dirt as if he could anchor himself there, as if staying still might keep the rest of his world from collapsing further.
Negan's smile slipped.
In an instant, his hand shot out, gripping Rick's face with crushing force, fingers digging into his jaw, knuckles turning white. Rick gasped as Negan forced his head up, making sure there was nowhere to look but straight at him.
"Speak when you're spoken to."
Rick's breath hitched, panic flashing through his eyes. "O–okay. Okay."
Negan released him just as abruptly, straightening like nothing had happened.
"That trip," Negan said calmly, his voice sharp as a blade, "was about the way you looked at me. I don't like that. I wanted to change it. I wanted you to understand. But here you are, still staring at me like I shit in your scrambled eggs."
He tilted his head, studying Rick with mock curiosity, as if this were a simple misunderstanding. "That look ain't gonna work. So... do I give you another chance?"
Rick swallowed hard. His voice cracked, barely holding together. "Yes."
Negan's grin returned, slow and satisfied. "Simon, you got a pen?"
Simon nodded.
Negan's eyes shifted—sharp, deliberate. "Bring her here."
Tessa's blood ran cold when she realized he was staring directly at her.
Her body stiffened, every instinct screaming to run, even as she knew there was nowhere to go. Simon shoved her forward without warning. She stumbled, feet scraping against the dirt, breath knocked from her lungs—but Dwight caught her before she could fall, twisting her arms painfully behind her back. Before she could fight, before she could even scream again, she was forced face-first into the ground.
Dust filled her mouth. The earth was cold against her cheek.
"Let go of me!" she screamed, her voice ragged and torn. Her eyes found Rick through the blur of tears. "Rick!"
Rick surged forward, desperation overriding reason, but two Saviors slammed him back down hard. A broken sound tore from his throat as he hit the ground. "No—please. Please don't."
Negan chuckled, amused. "Me? I ain't doing shit."
He twirled the marker Simon handed him between his fingers, clicking the cap off with deliberate slowness. Then he crouched in front of Tessa. Her chest heaved as he dragged the tip slowly along her forearm, the cold plastic tracing a deliberate line into her skin.
"Rick," Negan said casually, "why don't you take your axe and cut your sister's left arm off. Right on the line."
Tessa's eyes widened in terror. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest. The world narrowed to the sound of her own breathing, ragged and panicked.
Her lips trembled. "Rick..." she whispered, her voice breaking.
Negan's grin stretched wider. "You don't do it? She dies right here. All these people die. Then the people back home die. And then you... eventually."
Rick's entire body shook. His eyes darted between the axe lying in the dirt, his sister trembling beneath Negan's hand, and Negan's unblinking stare. He looked like a man already split in half.
"It can be me," Rick begged, tears streaking down his face. "It can be me. Do it to me. I can go with you."
Negan crouched beside Tessa again, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with mock tenderness. She flinched, hatred burning through her tears, her whole body rigid beneath his touch.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Negan murmured, close enough that she could feel his breath against her skin. "This ain't personal. Well... maybe a little."
He winked, then turned back to Rick.
"You—you don't have to do this," Michonne said, her voice shaking, hands clenched at her sides. "We understand."
"Oh, you understand," Negan replied lightly. "I'm not sure Rick does. I'm gonna need a clean cut. Right there on the line. She'll be fine... probably."
Tessa's chest ached as she looked at her brother. His face was unrecognizable—ravaged, hollow, terrified. "Rick... do it. Just do it."
Silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. The world seemed to hold its breath. Rick's choked sobs filled the space between them, mingling with Tessa's trembling breaths. Slowly, painfully, Rick reached for her hand, fingers shaking as he lifted the axe.
Suddenly, Negan crouched again, forcing Rick to stop. He locked eyes with him, dominance radiating from every inch of his posture.
"You listen to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?"
Rick didn't answer. Disbelief hollowed him out, his eyes glassy, distant.
Negan's hands snapped up, gripping Rick's chin with brutal force, forcing his face up. "Speak when you're spoken to! You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?"
"Right," Rick sobbed. "I belong to you."
Negan smiled and clapped his hands together like it was Christmas morning.
"Right. Now that's the look I wanted to see."
His gaze swept over them all, slow and claiming. "You belong to me. Every. Damn. One of you."
He yanked Tessa back up by the arm, smirking down at Rick's shattered expression.
