Hold Onto Me

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The first time Negan held his wife in his arms, he thought it was also the last.

Of course at that time she was just another passer-by in the sanctuary, and Negan never made anyone stay if they didn't want to. It didn't matter that he wanted her to stay, he couldn't tell her that. He couldn't let his guard down. Not again.

He wouldn't admit it, but he had grown to care for her in ways he couldn't explain. She didn't want to be one of his wives, she didn't want to share him, and she didn't wish harm on him like his other wives who were only his wives to reap the benefits and put in none of the hard work that everyone else did.

He didn't understand how she was still so compassionate towards him when all he did in retaliation was lash out at her and push her away. He also didn't understand why he had let her walk out of those gates so easily.

The second time Negan held his wife in his arms, she was nearly dying.

After she left the sanctuary, she got caught up with another group. They cared for her for a few months, but when Negan saw her during his trip to Alexandria, he brought her back to the sanctuary without much of a fight on her side.

She was set up in the infirmary for a week and apparently the time Negan spent carrying her back to his truck and the drive home was enough to get him sick as well because he was the company in the bed across from hers for the remainder of said week.

He didn't want to admit it, but the way her lashes fluttered when she got tired and the way her smile could light up even the darkest situation were things he found endearing about her. He tried not noticing these things before; he forced himself not to notice, but it was hard when she was right in front of his face.

The first time Negan kissed his wife, he blamed it on the fever.

They were having one of their conversations to make the passing time more bearable and before he knew it, she was joining him on his bed. He could see the want in her eyes that she tried so hard to fight off during all those months of his cruelty. He could see how desperately she tried not to need him; he was trying just as hard to hide his own desires.

Negan's no kissing policy became void the moment he had a taste of her. The tenderness of her lips against his was like nothing he'd felt since his first wife had passed. He felt needed, and cared for; something he wouldn't let just anyone make him feel. Something he didn't feel deserving of.

Her lips brushed over his as her hands rested on either side of his blanket-covered body on the bed in the infirmary. His large hand pushed her hair back and caressed her cheek as their kiss came to a slow stop. Negan was a man who got what he wanted, but he wouldn't let it go any further than this, even though he wanted it to. As despicable as Negan was, he was a man of boundaries and consent.

The first time Negan took his wife out on a run, he let his guard down.

She worked in the garden. She loved the way the vines would sprout new vegetables that she could bring to the cooks for meals of all sorts, but they were running low on seeds and such.

Negan pleasantly remembered watching her face light up like a kid in a candy shop when she saw the variety of seeds to choose from. She went with the normal things that they always got, but grabbed a few new seeds for the thrill of watching them thrive. He didn't understand how little things such as gardening supplies could make a woman smile like that, but then again he didn't understand her either.

Their run took longer than expected, causing them to stop at a safe house overnight. Negan never took chances when it came to his or his people's safety.