Panacea - {Daryl Dixon Fanfiction}

Night 185+ - Borrowed

You have to build up someone's trust before you can take them down, and that's what Gabrielle did. She got them plastered three out of five nights by making them play games with the alcohol, saying she needed a drink or wanted to loosen up for the evening. And the men obliged. Where they had gotten so much alcohol, Gabry would never know, but there was enough to host an after-party.

Tonight would be the night that she'd make her move. She saw where they kept their food, stored their guns and had even found a map they were using. That, she knew, must go with her. They'd retrieved baby formula for her like she had asked, but Negan had still not come up with a plan of payment for her.  

She thought Negan had caught onto her plan as she eagerly watched them drink that night, not partaking in with them as much as she had. He wouldn't drink much, just bite his lip as he watched her.They had put little Chaney in the camper now, so she had Negan's full attention. If anything, he was the one she needed to be drunk the most. 

Fake it to make it, She thought to herself and go up from her chair, playing tipsy. She stumbled and brushed against his knees, and he was more than happy to welcome her into his lap. 

"Having fun?" He raised his brow at her. Even though she'd been with them for five days, and although nothing had gone awry, she still had that "I'm being hunted" feeling in her gut when he looked at her. 

"Kiss me." She whispered. "I'll get you drunk somehow...secondhand, if I have to." 

"I'm not sure it works like that." Negan said, but obliged and his lips met hers briefly. In another life, he could have quite possibly been charming. In another life, this would have been Daryl. "What's this for?"

"Payment."

"Payment?" He chuckled. "You don't even know-"

She took a swig of beer, managing not to gag and then pressed it to his lips. He sipped and then pushed her hand away. 

"You're more fun when you're drunk." 

"Oh-ho, am I? Darling, I believe I know how you got pregnant now." She didn't like to be called darling, not by him anyway, so she made him take another sip. She went back and forth like that, taking little sips and making them look long, and then making him chug. She played the part; playing with the his hair, kissing his neck, rubbing his thigh, anything to distract him from what she was really doing.

And when the time came that he was almost paralytic, she got off his lap and went into the camper. And while in there, she emptied out what ammo they had in their spare guns and shoved them down the drain of the sink and toilet. She then took one of the guns, and whatever extra ammo she could find, and shoved it into a backpack, along with extra food and baby formula. 

And with baby Chaney nestled in a sling on her chest, she ran out into the night. She wiped her mouth of that man's kiss, hoping to never encounter the taste again. They were idiots for getting drunk, especially during the apocalypse, but they were no longer her problem. 

* * *

She had run all night until she couldn't feel her legs, but oh how she felt them this morning. Her muscles would spasm and cramp, and if she tried to take another step they'd buckle beneath her. She had stealthily avoided the diseased that roamed the woods, hiding in the shadows of the trees. 

That morning she lit a small fire and boiled Chaney some formula. "You know, kid, I read somewhere a quote. 'Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes in which to sorrow it'. Does that sound about right?" He didn't make the slightest noise, only watched his bottle in the bubbling water. Gabry was beginning to believe in Cormac McCarthy's quote more and more with every hour that passed.