Poker Face

Chapter 49 - Real Life

Aven felt pressure around her throat and opened her eyes to see a pair of arms reached out towards her, hands wrapped around her neck and pressing into her throat. It was dark and she couldn't see her attacker's face but she had an idea who it was, his long, bony fingers a vaguely familiar feeling.

Suddenly, her back was to the hard concrete floor and the man was on top of her, squeezing tighter. She reached up to try to tear his hands away but she couldn't get there, her hands stopping a few inches away from his, as though a second person was holding her wrists in place.

She remembered where she was supposed to be, at Alexandria with Negan and the Saviors. But instead she was alone with her kidnapper and the sound of her voice barely made it past her lips as she cried out for Negan.

"Stop," a distorted voice commanded as she continued to try to get her hands up to the ones wrapped around her neck so she could pry them away. "Calm down. You're okay."

The scene quickly dissipated all at once and she opened her eyes to see Negan hovering above her, holding her wrists away from her neck. Her vision was blurry and it took a minute to focus. Her eyes darted around wildly but she began to relax as she realized she was home in bed.

"Doc!" Negan barked, the younger Dr. Carson coming in from the living room right away.

"What's going on?" Aven asked groggily, a dull ache growing in the front of her neck when she tried to lift her head. Negan gently put a hand on the side of her head, urging her to stay lying down.

"Oh, good," said the doctor, seeing Aven awake and becoming alert. "How are you feeling?"

"Um..." she breathed, her voice weak. She felt extremely sick and quite literally drained.

"We were at Alexandria, do you remember?" Negan began. She noticed he was half-kneeling at the bedside, leaning onto the mattress with one arm draped over her stomach and the other still rested at the side of her head. She blinked at him with wide but tired eyes, trying to further get her bearings. "You don't remember what happened?" Aven shook her head, furrowing her brow as she pieced together the situation. Her breathing was labored and her heart was pounding; she had a bad track record of waking up in more than undesirable places after losing consciousness. She knew where she was but it was still too familiar a feeling.

"Um, how...how long was I out?" she asked, noting that Negan looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"The rest of the day," he responded. "It's around eleven now. Doll..." His hand moved to the side of her face, gently slipping his fingers into her hair and he let out a deep sigh, gazing down at her with a mixture of love, relief, fear, and sadness. "I thought I lost you," he said, his voice rough and tired.

"It can't have been that bad if I'm fine a few hours later." Still coming into consciousness, she didn't feel the full extent of the physical symptoms of blood loss.

"That fucking bitch knicked an artery, Aven," Negan growled, the words threatening to bring tears to his eyes. "I shouldn't have let you come. I should have just fuckin' been strict about it. I'm so sorry." His voice cracked slightly and Aven just stared up at him, trying to recall exactly what had happened. That's when she really processed the ache in her neck, which was wrapped tightly in gauze.

"First and foremost, you should know you're okay and I gave you stitches," Carson began, trying to quell her confusion, something with which Negan wasn't helping. "This is probably stressful but try to stay calm so you don't agitate the area. It's a sensitive area and too much movement or physical stress might tear the stitches."