Up The Wolves | Negan

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Iron

A/N: Apologies for the extra short chapter, but I hope you enjoy it!

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It was maybe an hour or so before somebody came to 'retrieve' me, presumably because Negan needed something. I recognized the girl at my door and smiled at her, despite her aggressive looks.

"Hi Arat," I greeted her, but she simply rolled her eyes.

"Come on," she spoke plainly, walking past the door, and I followed. I noticed as we walked that it seemed like a lot of people were gathering in the direction we were going. What exactly was going on? We all gathered together in a crowd in the main large part of the building, everybody standing around, nobody exactly looking happy. It didn't take long before the man of the hour appeared, clanging his bat on the metal bars above as he looked over us all. Everyone began to kneel, including Arat, who chopped the back of one of my knees so I'd kneel as well. I rolled my eyes, but stayed in the position for whatever announcement Negan was planning on making with Carl there. He handed Lucille over to Carl, stepping up to the bars and leaning back.

"You know the deal. What's about to happen is gonna be hard to watch. I don't wanna do it. I wish I could just ignore the rules and let it slide, but I can't," the words somehow felt indirectly directed straight at me, "Why?"

"The rules keep us alive," everybody spoke in unison as I glanced around. I could spot Daryl with what looked like a mop kneeling across the room.

"That... Is... Right," Negan stepped down the stairs to the lower platform that was still elevated above us, Carl following close behind, "We survive. We provide security to others. We bring civilization back to this world. We are the Saviors. But we can't do that without rules. Rules are what make it all work. I know it's not easy. But there's always work. There is always a cost. Here, if you try to skirt it; if you try to cut that corner!" the voice started off stern as if giving a true speech, but slowly became that horrifyingly masculine yell of his. He chuckled before continuing, "Then it is the iron for you."

The iron. Even the idea of it sounded terrible. Suddenly, Dwight's face popped into my mind, and the fact that he had previously tried to escape and steal from the Saviors... I knew I would soon find out if my theory was correct, and I worried, looking at the man tied up in a chair in front of a large furnace ahead of me, that I would be.

"On your feet," Negan ordered, and everybody stood, including me. Negan finally made his way to the ground, walking through the crowd and to the man in the chair as I strained to see what was going on over the heads of the taller men in front of me, "D..." I heard Negans voice, "Mark, I'm sorry. But it is what it is," Negan said and the scenario finally clicked in my mind. Mark, the man who had skipped out on redirect to be with Amber, and the reason she was crying in the room. This wasn't about the rules. This was about Negan being cheated on by his unhappy fake wife. Looking around, I could see most of the rest of the girls standing close to the front, specifically consoling Amber. He must have been her husband before Negan got his disgusting hands on her.

As soon as I was able to see the front of the room, I regretted it. Negan had one of those old-fashioned irons for clothes in a mitten-gloved hand and pressed it to the side of Mark's face while he screamed in pain. I covered my mouth to hold in any gasp that may have tried to escape, especially at the pure joy on Negan's face while he did so. Soon, the screaming stopped as Mark completely passed out, and Negan drew the iron away. I watched the burnt skin peel away with it like elastic. And what did he do? He laughed, stomping his foot as he looked down at the unconscious man in front of him.

"Ah, that wasn't so bad, now, was it?" he asked as Dwight stepped forward with some sort of metal hook, taking the iron back from Negan, "Jesus. He pissed himself," Negan stepped out of my line of sight as I stared at the man in the chair, his bleeding and burnt face. Definitely what happened to Dwight, I decided, "Doc, I'm all done. Do your thing," the familiar doctor headed up to Mark to start fixing his face up, "Well, the pussy passed out. But it's settled. We're square. Everything is cool. Let Mark's face be a daily reminder to him, and to everyone else that the rules matter. I hope that we all learned something today because I don't ever... want to have to do that again."

The words disgusted me as Negan stepped back through the crowd with Carl, catching my gaze on his way. I couldn't help but glare at him. He would get no faux-loving gaze today. Not after that show. Still, he shot me an uneasy smile.

As soon as we were dismissed, I stomped my way to my room, only wishing I would never have to leave it for that reason again.