Falling Into Place

Chapter Three

I faded  back into reality. And that reality was me being practically held hostage by Negan.

I was laid across a couch, and I looked around. 

I found Negan, crashed on the comforter across from it.

He had fallen asleep. I stared at him, and stood up to go back into the room upstairs and get my clothes.

"Hey." His gravelly voice grumbled from behind me. You could hear the sleep coating his voice.

"Uh, hey..." I turn around. My body feels sore, and my eyelids heavy.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" He said. It sounded like it was supposed to be angry, but instead it sounded more tired.

I didn't reply. He turned over onto his back, and sat up.

"Why don't you come on over and sit on papa's lap." He smirked. I took a step back. His expression changed.

I had to explain to him that I didn't...

I bit my lip and looked down towards the ground for comfort. I knew watching his face would discourage me.

"I... I don't want to be one of your 'wives'." I stuttered. He tilted his head and a slight smirk lifts his mouth.

"Well, why not?" It sounded almost like a chuckle.

"Because.. I just don't. I'm not like any of the women in there, I'm not mature enough, and, well, maybe because you killed my entire fucking group?" I snapped.

His grin melted into a straight line, and his eyebrows dropped. He sat back, and brought his leg up over his knee.

"And?" He said, "I fucking killed at least someone from all of those women."

"I don't want to be like them."

"Fine. I respect your choice." He stood up with a groan, and stepped around me, "you know, it may seem like it, but we aren't like those other fucking assholes out there. We don't rape, we don't put anyone in a position they can't handle."

I make a seriously? face and he shrugs.

"You're here right now, aren'tcha?" I roll my eyes. "But, holy shit. I killed literally everyone in that group of yours, and you're still giving me that fucking attitude. I do what I do to break people, and just exactly what the fuck went wrong with you?"

"I don't stay strong for myself. I stay strong for other people. The people I fucking loved."

"You stay sassy as shit. I don't like that. I really do not like that. Not one mother fucking bit." He sat down on the couch. "I knew a girl like you. She fucking died."

My eyes widened, and then my gaze fell to the floor.

He immediately stood up again, and leaned over, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt.

"You've really got it fucking good here. But, unless you wanna end up like her, and fucking die instead, I'll gladly do that for you. I'd be glad as fuck fuck fucking fuck." He walked past me and to a closet.

"Test me. See what happens." He glared back at me, and after a second, he looks back into the closet and laughs.

"I do it for my sister."

I don't know what drove me to say it, but I really wanted to. It sounded better, and more badass in my head. Instead, it came out almost like a little squeal from a tiger, and suddenly, I was just a kitten.

He turned around, with an are you kidding? expression.

"She's dead, too." He said.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"She'd be with you, or I would have killed her with your group. I'm not a fucking idiot. You very well might be, though."