Dead Silent

Chapter 23

Daryl steps through the gates of Alexandria, Michonne's eyes widening at the sight of his black eye and busted lip, even more so at the bruises covering his neck.

"Daryl, what happened?" She frowns, making her way over to him.

"Where's Rick?" Daryl asks, his hair covering his face as he drops his head.

Michonne brushes Daryl's hair from his face. "He's at our house. What the hell happened to you?"

"Don't matter, i gotta see Rick," Daryl says.

Michonne places a hand against his chest. "Hey, it does matter. Was this Negan?" Daryl nods. "Did you try to see Kirsty? Is that what this is?"

"Why? Ya gon yell at me? Tell me i should stay away?"

Michonne stares at him, her face softening. "No, why would you think that?"

"Everyone else seems ta think so," Daryl says.

Michonne smiles, placing her hand against his cheek. "You love her. If it were Rick out there, no one could stop me. What i am gonna tell you, is you need to be smart about this."

"I'm tired of waitin," he frowns.

Michonne nods. "I know, i'm tired of waiting too."

~

Kirsty's eyes flicker open. She rubs at them with the back of her hand, stretching out on the sofa with a silent yawn. As she looks over at Negan's empty bed, she frowns, confused as to why he'd leave her alone, especially after last night's speech. But then she leans up on her elbows, light snores filling her ears. Kirsty looks down at the floor, Negan laid in just his boxers, spit drying on his chin as he sleeps soundly in the space between the sofa and the coffee table.

Her emotions lay somewhere between, her heart aching, knowing that he most likely fell asleep watching her, and being creeped out.. knowing that he most likely fell asleep watching her.

She lays her head back against the sofa arm, looking down at him in confusion. His actions are those of someone in love, but yet she's sure he doesn't love her, how could he? Kirsty watches him, hypnotised by the rise and fall of his bare shoulders with every breath he takes. She wonders about Lucille. Lucille obviously meant something to him because he still refused to let her go, he must have loved her. But that was before, she thinks.

"Don't go." Kirsty jumps a little as Negan mumbles incoherently, his body shifting against the floor. She looks down, his eye moving rapidly beneath it's lid as his nose brushes against the rug. He winces, his eyes scrunched as if in pain. "Don't leave me," he whispers, his voice low and gravelly.

Kirsty gazes at him, her heart wanting to hold him, but her head telling her to run, run right now whilst he sleeps. So he dreams about his dead wife, who gives a shit?

"Kirsty.. don't leave," he groans, his breath heavy.

Her heart skips a beat, so sure that he was dreaming of Lucille, that it takes her by surprise. It doesn't mean anything, you're nothing more than a possession to him. Even with that thought in her mind, she leans down, placing her hand against his shoulder. His skin is warm to the touch, and she has to remind herself that he's the bad guy, that he's the reason she's still here.

She shakes him awake, his body twitching as his lashes flutter, his eyes staring at the bottom of the sofa in confusion. He looks up, seeing her gazing down at him. "Kirsty?" He utters, not quite believing she's still there as his dream slowly fades.

I'm here, you okay?

Negan rubs at his eyes before leaning up on his elbows. "Yeah."