Amnesia (Negan x Reader)

3. Not Worth Saving

Negan interrupts your staring contest by asking  you, "Any chance we can get this arm looked at?" He looks down to his still bleeding arm and you follow his gaze. You'd forgotten about his injury for a moment; too busy keeping your guard up in case he tried something stupid.

You reply with an "Oh yeah", and get up from your seat to look through the set of drawers on the far right of the room. You rummage through them but don't find anything. They're practically empty. You rest your hands on your hips, trying to think of what you're going to do next.

It seems that Negan senses this and says "The first aid kid is in the last drawer, underneath the wooden board." 

"Damn, you seriously look like shit" you admit when you turn to look at him.

"You say that, but you haven't been able to keep your eyes off me this whole time" he smirks, showing his teeth a little. You scoff, trying to ignore what he just said, and resume to retrieving the kit. You open the last drawer for the second time, lift the wooden board and sure enough it's there. You take it out and place it on the table beside Negan and take out what you need.

"Have you done this before?" he asks, there's slight panic in his voice.

You think back to the time when you had to remove a bullet from an older woman you met, when this shitstorm first begun.  You had no idea what you were doing and had no tools to make it a little easier at least. You removed the bullet with your bare fingers. You still haven't been able to forget her screams. You took part of the bullet out, but she had lost too much blood. She didn't make it.

You shake off the painful memory and return to the present moment. "Once", you say. He must have understood that you didn't want to talk about it, because he didn't press you any further.

You remove the belt around his arm and pull his jacket to expose the wound. It makes you cringe looking at it, but you suck it up anyway.

"Okay, this is gonna hurt", you state obviously. You begin removing the bullet and you can see from the corner of your eye that he's clenching his teeth, trying his hardest not to scream. As you grab the bullet with the surgical pliers you found in the kit, he yells "Shit! Shit! Shit" but you don't stop until it's out. You clean the area with some rubbing alcohol and you can't help but snicker when he grunts in pain. You finally stitch him up and cover the area with some gauze.

You look up at him, suddenly becoming aware of how close you are to him, your hand is still pressed gently over the gauze on his arm.

His eyes are closed while his head is tilted, resting on the back of the chair. His breathing is shallow and he looks exhausted. Dark circles have formed under his eyes, his face is drenched in sweat. He needs to rest. He's lost so much blood, and probably getting a fever. Your suspicion is confirmed when you place the back of your hand on his very warm forehead.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"You're getting a fever, you need to rest", you reply back.

You quickly brush any doubts forming in your mind and untie him from the chair, still leaving his hands tied however. You grab is arm and help him walk over to the brown leather sofa to your right. He lies down on the sofa with his eyes shut and you prop his head up with his jacket. You use his scarf to wipe of the sweat on his face and for a brief moment, you feel sorry for him.

You walk back to the first aid kid where you find a box of antibiotics and a flask of water. The saviors are pretty well prepared it seems. You think for a moment about whether you should waste these precious items on him but you choose to ignore that thought.

You kneel next to Negan and say "You need to take these antibiotics", opening the palm of your hand where the pills are. He opens his eyes again and looks between you and his hands. That's when you realize that he can't lift his arms because one, they are tied up and two, his one arm is injured. You bring your hand up to his lips, and he parts them just enough for you to place the pills in his mouth. You do the same with the flask, and allow him to drink some water.

---

He slept for a long time. Hour after hour passed and you've been sitting in the same position with your chest on the back on the chair, facing a sleeping Negan. You haven't let yourself take your eyes off of him. The more you stare at his peaceful, innocent-looking profile, the more you can't understand how this same man has done all those horrible things.

You try to imagine what he was like before the apocalypse; was he just as much of a psycho then? or did he turn into one after everything went to shit? 

If today was the first time you'd met him, you would have had a hard time believing he was Negan. The Negan.

As the sun set, you watched as the shadows moved across his chest, his neck, his jaw..his lightly parted lips, his eyelashes..And that's when your body gave in too and let sleep take you over.

---

You drift back to consciousness, feeling the stiffness and heaviness in your muscles and bones from being slouched over the chair. You figure you couldn't have been asleep for more than a couple of hours; the moon was at its peak, it's light illuminating through the window above a sleeping Negan.

You lie on the floor, using your hands as a cushion. It's far from comfortable, but it's nothing new to you. The hunger pangs in your tummy make it hard for you to fall back asleep. You try to focus on something else, but it's dark and the only sound in the room is coming from Negan's soft breathing. That proves to be just the right distraction, because you completely forget about the emptiness in your stomach.