Don't Leave Me -DISCONTINUED/READ NEWEST CHAPTER-

The Truth

This is the fifty-ninth chapter... About eight chapters per season. 

Just let that sink in. 

"Higher." Martin commands. 

"I can't!" I cry. 

"You can. Push yourself." Martin holds his hand higher. "Hit it." 

I bring my leg up to just brush against his hand before I fall backwards. 

I sit on the floor for a few moments, panting, trying to catch my breath. 

"Do you think Negan will let me go?" I question. 

"I cannot answer for Negan." Martin shakes his head. "Stand and do it again."

Martin wasn't much for talking. I actually think that he would like it better if I didn't talk at all. 

But he wasn't mean. He showed me a few moves, corrected my stance and gave me feedback. I wouldn't be using the boxing gloves for a few weeks, until my wrist had healed enough. It was just wrapped between two thick pieces of plastic for now since the walker cracked the cast. 

I wouldn't tell them who did it. Negan didn't push. 

I stand from the floor and shake myself out, getting ready to do some more. 

"Go. Take a break." Martin nods towards the door. 

"I'm okay. I can keep going." I insist. 

"No. Go take a break." Martin folds his arms, daring me to argue. 

I let out a sigh but move towards the door. 

"You did good, bub." Martin comments as I pass through the doorway. 

I was going to ask Negan if I could go to Alexandria now. 

I told Dwight earlier that I wanted to talk to him. 

They were leaving tomorrow. I trained, just like he said. 

I wanted to go make sure that Maggie was okay. The baby. Carl. Tank. 

It was getting dark, and I was walking around, doing patrol with Dwight. 

Dwight wanted me to start working with him. He let me lift small things, carry a checklist and he even snuck me out once to do a walk of the border to check for holes in the gate. 

"I'm looking for the kid." Dwight's walkie crackled to life. 

"I'm bringing him." Dwight speaks into the walkie before nodding to me. 

We make our way to Negan's room. The sun was just beginning to set. 

Dwight drops me off just outside the door. 

I enter the room. The wives were gone, in their rooms. 

It was just Negan and me. 

"You said you wanted to talk." Negan mentions, pacing before stopping to look at me. "So talk."

"I wanted to thank you for the lessons..." I start. "They've been really helpful. But that's not why I'm here."

I shake my head, trying to mentally give myself a pep talk. "I wanted to talk to you about Alexandria."

"What about it?" I can't help but flinch a little under Negan's gritted tone.

"Could I... go back?" I question. "To Alexandria. To my mom?"

"Your mom is here." Negan points out. "She's been waiting seven years to see you and you want to abandon her."

"I started to call that woman my mom, because I didn't have mine!" I shout before seeing the look on his face and going to a whisper. "The end of the world... it changes people. That woman. That's not my mother. Not anymore. And I'm not her son. It was seven or so years ago but I've changed. The boy that she left behind is dead."

"You won't accept her." Negan's voice wasn't accusing.

"No." I shake my head. "You said that you were a baseball coach."

"Don't try and change the subject." Negan frowns.

"Hear me out... humor me. Baseball coach." I repeat. "You said that that's where they taught you about recognizing abuse and shit."

Negan nods, confused.

"Did you ever have to use the training. Before this. Before me?" I question.

"Yeah." Negan lets out a sigh. "Yeah, I did."

"Could you tell me?" I look up at him, hands planted on my hips.

"His name was Tommy Lee. He lived with his single, drug addicted mother in a bad part of town. He took up baseball to let out all of his anger." Negan furrows his brow in rememberance. "A lot of people just glanced at him and let him be. Even though they saw the cigarette burns."

"Did you do something?" I ask.

"I had to make a shit ton of phone calls and call in some favors." Negan looks down at me, shaking the memory off. "Why do you keep bombarding me with dumb ass questions."

"Themanwhohurtsmeispeter." I blurt the words from my mouth, head darting to look at the ground. "Pa."

"Peter beats you?" Negan raises an eyebrow.

"It was stupid. Nevermind." I shake my head.

A heavy hand falls onto my shoulder and I look up at Negan.

"Tell me, again." Negan inststructs. His tone was just a smidge softer.

"It's Peter." I say slower. "Peter hurts me."

Negan was silent and panic begins to build in my chest.

He probably didn't believe me. What was I doing telling him anyway.

"I believe you, kid." Negan breaks the silence before letting out a groan. "Jesus. I wish you told me sooner. We don't take kindly to child abusers."

"But he's at the top. He is your right hand man." I protest.

"So as that may be, that doesn't excuse this shit." Negan crouches, resting his forearms on his knees to keep his balance. "It takes guts to spew that shit, kid."

"What are you going to do?" I meekly inquired.

"I'll deal with Peter and I'll move you and Gianna to a new part." Negan tells me.

My face falls, and I try to stop it but Negan notices it anyway.

"What's with the long face. You want Peter to beat you? You a masochist?" Negan frowns. "Ain't you a little young to have kinks?"

"No!" I blurt out. "No. It's just... It's not just Peter."

"Jesus, she's beating you too!?" Negan stands up. "Two of my top people are beating the shit out of kids!?"

I was suddenly a little fearful.

"And I didn't notice jack shit!" Negan turns and slams his fist into the bookcase, causing a multitude of books to fall and clatter to the floor. "What kinda fucking leader am I?"

"Could I..." I leave the question hanging in the air. 

"We'll talk about this in the morning." Negan tells me through gritted teeth. "Go. Get to bed." 

Negan was angry. He was telling me that it wasn't safe to be around him right now. 

I turn towards the door and leave. 

Peter and Gianna didn't come back to the room that night.