Unglued (Desus)

Chapter Three

It was raining non stop. Everyone was constantly wet, no one slept well, and as a result, everyone was very grumpy. Well, Daryl seemed about as grumpy as usual. After all, he was used to the outdoors.

Paul, on the other hand, was completely miserable. He couldn't stand the constant drizzle, along with the stress of trying to talk to Daryl. He was beginning to give up, everything seemed like a lost cause. He had made absolutely no progress the past few days.

Sure, Daryl talked to him occasionally. But it just wasn't enough.

Nearly everyone had left camp to do the daily chores, and only a few people remained at the campground.

Paul was one of the few who decided to stay, and he sat in his tent, staring at the thin, plastic floor. He silently listened to the raindrops pelt against the roof and sides of his tent while he thought about everything. A scream suddenly jolted him out of his dreary daze, and his head snapped up. Had that been Carol?

"Oh man! I thought I made it PERFECTLY clear that you aren't going to resist me!" A voice called.

Paul stuck his head out of the tent, wondering what all the yelling was about. The voice sounded familiar somehow, but he couldn't place it....

He froze at the sight that greeted him. Even though the rain poured down and obscured his vision, he could clearly make out the figure in front of him.

But the figure almost looked like...

No. No, no, no. That wasn't possible. There was no way he was here. It was only a week into the outbreak!

But there he was, clear as day.

Negan.

Paul felt the blood drain from his face. This couldn't be happening. They had already beat Negan. He shouldn't exist in this world. Not here. Not now.

Paul tried in vain to convince himself that he was just hallucinating, that the sight in front of him wasn't real. He blinked several times, trying to erase the horrid sight in front of him. He tried, and he tried, and he tried again. All to no avail.

The only comforting thing about the situation was that Negan didn't appear to have his deadly baseball bat.

It was a small comfort, but Paul would take what he could get.

Negan stood in the middle of the camp, grinning broadly and clutching Carol by the arm. He ran a bloody hand through her hair, and she shuddered.

"Now, come with me, will you? I can always use another pretty wife like you." He murmured.

Carol was shaking violently, tears streaking down her face.

"Like hell you're taking her." A voice rasped.

Paul stiffened. Fuck. He thought that Daryl had gone out with the others. He silently pleaded for Negan to ignore Daryl.

Of course, Negan did not.

Negan smiled widely, but he obviously found no humor in the statement.

"Well. I guess you'll just have to come with me too, then!"

Paul took that moment to step out of his tent.

"No." He begged. "Take me instead."

He knew what Negan was capable of. He didn't think that he could fight the other man on his own, so here he was, reduced to begging. He couldn't bear to see Daryl taken away again. He couldn't lose him. Not now. He couldn't see him tortured again.

He heard Daryl let out a low growl behind him.

Negan raised an eyebrow, an amused look on his face.