Trespassing (Daryl Dixon x OC)

Dreams

** Belle gives Negan the news **

"It's only me who wants to wrap around your dreams."

Carl was compliant while I adjusted to the whole new situation I'd gotten myself into. He answered my questions, held me while I cried, and told me new things I couldn't have begun to dream about. He seemed to have mastered living this way considering he's been gone for so little time.

"How have you learned all this so fast?" I asked him.

"Time is a social construct, an illusion created by man to make us think we have control over our lives. Time doesn't exist here." I stared at the boy, shocked.

"Alright, Sherlock, remind me not to ask you any more questions."

As Carl and I exited his house, the moon was hung high in the sky. This wasn't his dream world. We were back in Alexandria, I could tell by the heaviness in the atmosphere. I followed Carl aimlessly through the streets like a lost puppy. In a strange sense, I kind of was. We stopped right in front of Negan's cell door.

"Why're we here?" I asked. Carl entered the small basement room, myself following suit.

"You're the one who wanted to tell him," he stated. "You've asked your questions. Now's your chance."

I turned to face Negan, who was lying on his bed throwing a tennis ball in the air. The slight frown curving his lips indicated he was thinking. This was the man he never showed anyone; the man who had feelings that caused his thoughts to run wild, who went through periods of doubt, who was kept awake by the leaps and jumps of his fantasies and theories. This was the side of himself he'd let me see. This time, however, it hurt me. He was kept in the dark, unknowing of the events going on right above him.

"She was 'sposed to be back three days ago," Negan mumbled to himself. Three days. I've been dead for three days. With a final sigh, he placed the ball on the ground and let himself succumb to sleep.

"Go in," Carl said, his voice causing me to jump. I did as I was told, going in and kneeling beside his makeshift bedside. I studied Negan's peaceful expression. I almost felt guilty about what I was about to tell him.

"Put a hand on his forehead." Again, I complied. "Now go to him."

I closed my eyes, trying to understand what Carl meant. He didn't explain how, he just made me do it. I didn't even know what I was really supposed to be doing. I groaned, getting frustrated with all this confusion.

"I can't do it," I complained.

"Focus, Belle. Go to where you want to meet him. Let him see what you want him to see."

***

I was in the Sanctuary, standing in front of Negan's office door. Of all the places I'd go, I didn't expect myself to pick here. Although, this is where he felt safe. This was the place where he was the only one who knew what was said in his room. He didn't have to worry about anyone else but himself. I knocked on the door, hearing a muffled, "Come in," from the other side.

Negan was sitting at his desk looking over the scattered papers on it. He had a pair of black-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. It gave him a studious look, like he could've been a teacher. Although, looking him in the eyes was a challenge.

"Well, hey, doll," he greeted with his warm smile.

"Hi," I mumbled, keeping my head down and fiddling with my fingers.

"What brings you here, darlin'?"

Where do I even begin? How do I tell him something like this? I wanted this to hurt in the least way possible but I didn't even know if that was possible. With these thoughts becoming too much, I began to gently sob.