Within

forty three

Ariana had lost track of the days. The cell walls felt smaller with each passing hour, the dim light from the narrow window above barely enough to differentiate between day and night.

She hadn't seen Negan since their last conversation, since his frustrating attempts to win her over with apologies and promises that felt too empty, too late. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break down again. The silence of the Sanctuary's lower cells was suffocating, and though she tried to keep her mind occupied, there was only so much to think about in the cold, damp space.

Her meals were delivered by some random Saviour every day, no one ever speaking to her, just leaving trays of food that she rarely touched. Her appetite had long since abandoned her, replaced by a gnawing anxiety that kept her on edge. The weight of her conflicted feelings about Negan, and the general hopelessness of her situation all bore down on her, squeezing the air from her lungs.

A soft knock on the metal door pulled her from her thoughts. She didn't respond, why bother? It would just be another guard bringing her food or checking on her like she was some wild animal in a cage.

But then, she heard a familiar voice.

"Ariana?" Eugene's voice came through the door, cautious but carrying a hint of concern. "It's me."

Ariana sat up slowly, her muscles stiff from lack of movement. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see him, but the sound of his voice was a strange comfort after so much time alone.

"Eugene?"

A moment later, the door creaked open, and Eugene shuffled inside, awkward as always. He held a tray of food, more substantial than what she had been getting lately. His face was pale, and his eyes darted nervously around the room before finally settling on her.

"I, uh, I thought you might want something else to eat. Figured the same ol' rations must be gettin' a bit redundant by now." Eugene said, his voice low. "Hope you like pickles. It's all I could scrounge up that's... remotely appetizin'."

Ariana blinked at him, still surprised to see him. The silence hung between them for a moment before she broke it.

"Eugene... you don't have to keep coming down here." She said quietly, though there was no real bite to her words. The truth was, seeing him was a relief after so much isolation.

Eugene shifted on his feet, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, well... I don't reckon that's true. I figure someone oughta make sure you're holdin' up."

Ariana gave a dry laugh, though it lacked any real humour. "Holding up? Yeah, sure. Something like that."

Eugene set the tray down on the small table by the wall and hesitated before sitting down on the chair across from her. He adjusted his feet, clearly uncomfortable.

"You've been in here a while now. Haven't seen Negan come by, so... I take it things between y'all are still on the outs?"

Ariana tensed at the mention of Negan, her jaw clenching. "I told him I didn't want to see him. I meant it."

Eugene nodded slowly, shifting awkwardly. "Well, that's understandable, given, uh... circumstances." He trailed off, glancing at her with uncertainty. "But, uh, it seems like you haven't been eatin' much either. Folks are startin' to talk. You sure you're alright?"

Ariana opened her mouth to respond, but the familiar wave of nausea hit her hard and fast. She shot up from her spot on the cot, clutching her stomach, and rushed to the bucket in the corner. Her knees hit the cold concrete as she hunched over, retching violently.

Her body convulsed as she emptied what little was left in her stomach, each heave more painful than the last. The room seemed to spin, and she could feel Eugene's eyes on her, the air thick with concern and awkwardness.

After what felt like an eternity, the nausea finally eased enough for her to sit back on her heels, panting and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Eugene hadn't moved, still frozen in his seat, his face pale beneath his glasses.

"Think I've caught a bug or something."

Eugene blinked, clearly unsure what to say. "A... bug?" He repeated, his voice full of doubt.

She nodded, still breathing heavily. "Yeah. Probably just something I ate. I'll be fine."

Eugene stared at her for a long moment, then cleared his throat. "I don't mean to be, uh, presumptuous, but... you sure it's just a bug? I mean, it's been a bit since you started feelin' sick, hasn't it?"

Ariana's stomach twisted again, but not from nausea this time. She knew what he was implying, but she couldn't, wouldn't, let herself think about that right now. She was already trapped, both physically and emotionally, and the idea of... that was too much to process.

She gave a small shrug, trying to downplay the situation. "I don't know, Eugene. Could be stress, could be a virus. But I'm not ready to play doctor. I just need to ride it out."

Eugene shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with her response, but he didn't push further.

"Alright." He said softly, though his tone suggested he wasn't convinced. "But if it gets worse, you really should let someone know. You don't wanna get worse down here alone."

Ariana sighed, her energy drained.

"I'll be fine." She repeated, her voice firmer now. She wasn't about to let anyone, especially not Negan, see her vulnerable again. She just had to keep her walls up and get through this.

Eugene stood up slowly, his hands fidgeting as he glanced back at the tray of food he'd brought. "Well... I'll leave this here, in case you change your mind 'bout eatin'. And, uh, if you need anything, don't hesitate to holler."

"Thanks, Eugene." Ariana muttered, her head still spinning, though she wasn't sure if it was from the sickness or the whirlwind of thoughts running through her mind.

Eugene lingered for a moment longer before nodding and slipping out of the cell, leaving her alone once again in the dim, suffocating silence.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Ariana let out a long breath, slumping against the wall. Her stomach continued to churn, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil building inside her mind. She couldn't shake the creeping fear of what might be happening to her body, and what it could mean for her future, for her and Negan, and for everything she thought she had control over.

But right now, she wasn't ready to face it. Not yet.