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Jo

Martinez

I had spent months staring down the barrel of Martinez's gun when I was in Woodbury. But this was different. I realized in that half a second with complete clarity that despite how bad it had been The Governor's power had kept me safe in a way. His desire had protected me for the angry fear that glimmered in Martinez's eyes a second before he pulled the trigger.

I didn't think I just reacted.

I dodged, spinning to the right but I hadn't been fast enough. A slice of fire opened up across my upper arm. I didn't stop moving. I had a knife in my hand and let it fly before I had even completed the turn. I heard Martinez shout angrily and hoped it meant I hit him. When I looked back at the window he was already gone.

"JO!" I heard Negan's angry bellow somewhere behind me.

"I got him!" I yelled and I ran for the window.

"GODDAMMIT!" Was all I heard behind me as I reached the window sill. Looking down it was less than a ten foot drop. Which meant if I hung from the sill it would be less than five feet to the ground. I swung over and lowered myself down.

There was another gunshot but this one came from inside.

Negan

I had left Negan behind. I did the same thing people did to me. I took one look at the tiny female and assumed she wasn't a threat. I hadn't even considered the fact that Marie could have a gun too. Five guns had been stolen. Five. Only one was accounted for. Fear tightened my throat and I started pulling myself back up.

"Negan!" I yelled and I did a pull up, dragging my body back up into the window. The pull up itself wasn't hard, but the metal frame of the window dug painfully into my palms. I was torn. Part of me wanted to run after Martinez while another voice told me to go back, to make sure Negan was okay.

Killing Martinez wasn't worth losing Negan.

A shot zinged off the cement wall to my right and another shattered the glass. I flinched, ducking my head as the glass rained down over me. It bit painfully into my skin and fell inside the collar of my jacket and caught in my hair. I didn't have a choice. I was a sitting duck up here. An easy target for someone as experienced with a gun as Martinez.

I dropped. I hadn't planned or braced for it and when my legs hit I knew it was going to be wrong. I absorbed some of the impact and then fell backwards onto my butt. I heard a gunshot zing, but it wasn't anywhere near me. I whirled around to see Martinez firing another shot at me over his shoulder as he ran for the fence.

Five shots.

I chased after him. He was already over the first fence and half way across the moat when I hit the fence. Distantly I heard the snarling of biters. I didn't question it. If Martinez was here if made sense that they would be too. I jumped and landed halfway up. Fire flared across my left bicep and my fingers were slick on the metal. When I looked down my left hand was covered in blood. I gritted my teeth and forced myself up and over the top. I swung down, landing in a crouch with two knives in hand. He was halfway up the outer fence and I pulled my arm back to throw. A snarl came from my left and I whirled towards it. I sucked in a surprised breath as a herd shambled towards me.

Negan had refilled the moat.

I glanced at Martinez and then back at the biters. They were too close to ignore. Too close to risk letting the knife fly when I had never thrown one through a chain link fence before. It wasn't worth the risk if I wasn't guaranteed a killing throw.

He started shooting again and I ran straight into the herd.

"JO NO!" Someone was yelling but my brain couldn't process it. I was to focused on the gun.

Six shots...seven shots

The biters bodies jerked from impact as they absorbed the shots. I struck at the one directly in front of me and kicked back at the one behind me to give myself some room. I hated guns. I did a roundhouse kick, clearing myself even more room, while still keeping the bodies between myself and the bullets.

Eight shots...nine...

How many did that gun hold? I slid the blade through an eye socket and the next one through the temple. I kicked and twisted but they were all around me. Their hands grabbed greedily at me. Their cold dead fingers slid off my jacket and I was instantly thankful to Regina for insisting on all the leather.

Somehow over it all I heard the gun click empty. Or maybe I just imagined it. Either way the rain of bullets stopped. I didn't think I had been hit again, but it was impossible for me to concentrate enough to tell with this many biters so close.

"Hey! Over here! Over here!" Martinez called loudly. He rattled the fence, drawing even more biters towards me. From behind me I heard his low raspy chuckle. "I'll be seeing you puta...if your boy friend gets here in time. If not," he chuckled again. "I'll see you in hell, yeah?" I glanced up for half a second, just long enough to see him disappear into the trees before I had to face the herd.

There were so many bodies it felt like the rushing current of a river. I kept fighting but there were just more and more and more. For the very first time since getting out of that cage I tasted the first pull of panic. It was almost a shock to realize I was afraid to die. I had felt like I had died in that cage. I had been so sure I didn't care anymore. I was wrong. There were things I wanted, things to live for. Katie and Merle...Negan...he would need my help catching Martinez.

I tightened my jaw as I lost one of my knives. I had been distracted and put too much strength behind the strike. The blade was lodged in the skull of a biter that used to be a teenage boy. I kicked the body away from me, abandoning the knife. I drew another. If I kept losing them I could end up in trouble...I didn't have a gun. I hated guns, but it could mean the difference between life and death today. My tumbling thoughts went to Negan again. I didn't even know if he was still alive.

I couldn't think like that, couldn't let myself think about anything beyond this. I had only lost two knives. I had two knives in my hands and eleven more still strapped to my body. I was letting myself be distracted. I couldn't think about the what if's, I couldn't think about my family. If I wanted to get out of here I couldn't be half in and half out.

Weakness into strength.

Negan said I needed less control. Not more. And at this point I had nothing to lose.

I let go.

I stopped thinking and turned that dark place in the back of my head loose. I shuddered as I let a new focus take control. It was like seeing color for the first time. Instead of fighting my instincts I gave into them. My body moved and twisted and fought.  Every strike was tight and controlled. Every moment, every movement took my full attention. There was nothing beyond this breath, this strike, this heartbeat. Nothing else mattered. I hadn't felt this free since I had been in the ring. I wasn't thinking about Martinez or Kate or how I was going to get out of here I just fought.

"You fight." "For how long?" "Until you can't anymore."

Merle's words from so long ago chased themselves around my head over and over until I was chanting. "Until you can't" under my breath with every strike.

Distantly, I recognized that there was yelling. A lot of yelling. But I couldn't hear it, not like a normal person would have. It was like I was underwater looking up at shapes and shadows moving across the surface in the sunlight. The only thing down here with me were the biters and we were a part of the darkness together. Their growls echoed through my mind like phantom injuries until I didn't know what was real and what was a memory.

It didn't matter.

I moved and swung and kicked and twisted. There was pain in my left arm when I moved a certain way, but I pushed myself to the place past pain. So instead of feeling pain I only let myself notice the slight drag in that arm, the way my grip wasn't as good because of the blood that had dripped down to my hand. I snapped off another knife, but it wasn't going to matter. I realized in a strange moment of clarity that there were too many of them.

It was odd, I should have felt fear or panic, something. But I didn't, I couldn't. Every piece of me was in that fight and there was nothing left. I kicked the next biter back into the herd, trying to slow them down and give myself more room to maneuver. Just because it was over didn't mean I was willing to go down without a fight. I always assumed I would go down fighting.

It was okay.

A warm arm suddenly looped around my waist dragging me backwards. I tried to fight it, tried to surge forward back towards the tide of biters that were still alive. I couldn't leave them alive.

"No! Let me go! Let me go!" I snarled at him, kicking and fighting to get back at the herd. Somehow my body must have recognized him even while my mind was trapped somewhere else because I had no inclination to attack him. I just needed to get away.

"It's not done!" I didn't recognize the sound of my own voice or the words coming out of my mouth.

He dragged me backwards away from the herd and fired into it with a handgun he held over my shoulder.

I flinched at the sound, and he instinctively wrapped himself around me, as though he could shield me from the noise. When it stopped I surged forward once more and he slung me back away from him.

My body hit the fence hard enough to stun me for a second. But that was all it bought him, one second before I pushed off of it ready to fight. I pulled back my arm without thinking and he knocked it down making a noise of impatience. He hit my forearm hard enough with his own that my fingers started to tingle and I had to consciously tighten the grip on my knife so I didn't drop it as my fingers went numb.

I tried to push past him once again but he stepped into me. He locked my arms down at my side and stepped one leg between mine so I couldn't kick without losing my balance. He surrounded me completely and I tried to think of something beyond this but he filled my senses. I couldn't escape him.

His head tilted down as he angled his body to cover mine completely. "Let it go sweetheart," his voice was gruff near my ear. "Let it go," his lips brushed against my ear and his breath fanned against my sweat slick skin.

It felt like it took a long time before I came back but it could only have been seconds. He was alive. When I could think again I realized I had fisted my gore covered hands in his t-shirt. I stared down at my hands for what felt like hours before I seemed to remember I had control of them. I didn't know where the knives were that had been in my hands. I jerked back from him opening my hands as though he was burning me. I tried to back away from him, but my back smashed against the fence where he had me pinned.

"Get her to the doc!" Negan was yelling to someone and all of a sudden it was like I had audio. There was gunshots all around us and yelling as the soldiers killed the biters that were still trying to get at Negan and I. Some of the soldiers were inside the fence with us while others were shooting through the chain links working to clear a path to the gate.

I looked up to see Simon come towards me. He had a rifle in his hand and he handed it off to Negan. He reached towards me to take my arm and I pulled back from him. Negan pushed me towards Simon unrepentantly.

I jerked away from them and pulled two knives out from under my arms. I was not leaving them out here. Simon froze, his eyes on the knives in my hands and I could see fear on his face. I did that. I put that there. Just like with Martinez.

"It's not done," I said in a hoarse voice and I turned back to step up next to Negan. I fought beside him as we and the other soldiers worked their way towards the gate. Negan must have come over the top after me but there was no way to get out of here without the herd closing in.

I could feel the annoyance and anger radiating from Negan's body as I continued to fight beside him and the others. He cut his eyes to Simon dangerously for disobeying his orders. For his part Simon was sticking close to me. He had pulled a handgun and kept shooting, clearing our path towards the gate. Negan watched our rear and I killed anything that came at us from the side, but Simon and Negan were acting like mother hens and there wasn't actually much for me to do. I gave me time to think.

I was more aware now. My strikes less powerful, less concise. My muscles were shaking as the adrenaline started to fade. I was running on empty. I started throwing knives instead of fighting hand to hand because I wasn't as sure of my balance. I had thrown six knives. I couldn't remember how many I had lost before, but I was starting to run low when we finally stumbled through the gate.

As soon as it slammed shut Simon and Negan both collapsed back against the fence. I dropped forward, resting my hands on my knees as I coughed and fought to catch my breath.

Negan was yelling orders, but it felt like I was underwater again. Someone moved towards me and I flinched away from the movement. I didn't have it in me to fight anymore, I just needed to get away. I stumbled over my feet and Negan was there. He caught my arm and pulled me up to my feet beside him.

He took one look at my face and made a noise in the back of his throat.

"Finish cleaning this shit up," he growled to Simon. "And get those crews out looking for that son of a bitch pronto. We got anyone who can track?" he was talking to Simon but I spoke up.

My throat was hoarse and I had to clear it a few times before he could hear me. "Merle," I finally choked out.

Both Simon and Negan turned to face me. I wanted to shirk back from their attention. I was feeling cold and shaky. I was weak and vulnerable and I just wanted to go hide somewhere so I could rest and heal. I wrapped my arms around myself not caring that I was smearing blood over myself even more.

"Dixon?" Simon asked looking at me in disbelief.

I nodded, though I didn't meet his eyes. Negan was staring me hard in the face. He paced around behind me. "We need to have us a little chat," he said, his lips brushing against my ear.

I flinched, but kept my feet in place. I nodded hollowly. I was done. I didn't have it in me to play any more games today. I just couldn't. Fighting the way I had left me exposed, it was everything I was now, and I couldn't wrap myself up in a mask and pretend I was anything else. I wasn't like Negan.

"Good," he said. "After you Hot Friend," he held his arm out towards the door. I frowned. I didn't want to go with him. I just wanted to go to bed. Martinez had gotten away and I was in no condition to go after him. I was done for the day. Couldn't Negan just see that and let me be?

But it wasn't in Negan's nature to back off, especially not when he sensed a weakness. He opened his mouth to say something when someone near the gate called his name. Negan sighed and rolled his shoulders.

"Dwight!" he barked.

Dwight jogged towards us. His eyes ran over me warily and guilt surged through me when I saw the slim cut along his jaw. I had done that. I had felt like I was in control at the time. Now I wasn't so sure. Was I in control now? Or had I been in control then? Maybe I hadn't been in control since Woodbury. Maybe that was the problem. I reached up to scrub my face with my hands and froze when I saw the gore coating up my forearms.

I grimaced at the motion, my arm tugging painfully reminded me that it wasn't just biter blood covering me. Some of it was mine.

"Get her to the Doc," Negan ordered Dwight. Negan glanced back at me, but I wasn't paying attention anymore. I was too busy studying the way the blood covered my hands. "Straight there," Negan muttered almost too low for me to hear. He said some other things but I stopped paying attention. I was just too tired. I did find it interesting that Negan pressed his hand gun into Dwight's hand before he jerked his chin towards the factory. Dwight was a worker and not normally allowed to carry a gun.

"Fat Joey!" Negan called and an overweight man jogged towards us. I pivoted on one heel, keeping him in my line of sight. "Go with Dwight and watch her," he ordered. "You stand guard until me or Simon come. No one else gets through that door, you understand?"

I studied the man objectively, unable to turn that place in my brain off even though I was swaying on my feet and there was no way for me to do anything about it. He was large, maybe close to three hundred pounds, which was impressive considering how scarce food could be. He would be strong, but not fast. More fat than muscle. He was less of a threat than Dwight.

I missed the last half of the conversation but figured I had the gist of it. Negan moved to step around us, his attention already focused on the men at the gate. Without seeming to think about it, he brushed past me his hand touching my low back and pressed his lips into my hair.

"Stay safe," he muttered and then he stepped away from me and stalked towards his men his arms outstretched dramatically.

I didn't even flinch, I just stood there and stared after him feeling like my mind was moving too slowly to keep up with everything that was happened. Martinez was gone, but Negan still felt the threat was still very real. And he was worried about me. I blinked after him. I had no idea how to react to that.

I looked back at Dwight who seemed to be waiting on me. I glanced back down at my left hand to see droplets of blood falling into the dirt. Maybe it was blood loss that had me feeling so foggy. I staggered forward a step and Dwight's eyes widened, but he didn't make any move towards me. I didn't blame him. I caught my balance and nodded to him. He nodded grimly and led the way through the compound towards the infirmary. Joey was surprisingly light on his feet, and followed almost silently. It felt weird having someone trail behind me. It reminded me of being back in Woodbury which led me right back to the problem of Martinez.

I needed to get patched up so I was ready for whatever was going to come next. There was too much happening for me to be this disconnected. I needed to get a hold of myself.

Dwight had reached the door before I realized we had somehow arrived at the infirmary.

"Dwight," I called after him and my voice was hoarse and still sounded far away for some reason.

Dwight hesitated, his hand already lifted to knock. He glanced back at me, his eyes meeting mine for only a second before they darted away.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my gaze dropping to his neck.

He frowned at me as though he didn't quite understand me. That was okay, it made two of us. Then he nodded slowly. I looked away from him, turning my attention back to the door before I could see anything akin to pity on his face. I could handle fear or confusion, but pity put my teeth on edge. I didn't need his pity.

Dwight rapped on the door but didn't bother waiting for an answer before pushing it open. Doctor Carson was waiting when we came through the door. The woman who sometimes acted as a nurse, but who's name I couldn't remember was waiting there too.

"What's going on out there?" Carson demanded. It shouldn't have surprised me that he would be waiting at the ready. The amount of gunfire out in that courtyard had probably sounded like a war zone from in here. And Negan had said they had been attacked before.

"Get her patched up," Dwight ordered gruffly and he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Carson turned to me, looking uncertain. I glanced down at myself. I was coated in gore again, but I didn't see how that was anything new. He jerked his chin towards the exam table.

"Where are you injured?" he asked. "I'm assuming not all of his is your's."

I shook my head. When I looked back at him he was standing closer than he had been a moment ago. I was still losing time. I hadn't been hit in the head so it was something going on in my brain.

I blinked and Carson was staring at the left arm of my jacket thoughtfully. "Were you shot?" he asked and he sounded like he was underwater.

"I think she's in shock sir," a woman's voice came from somewhere behind Carson. For some reason her voice was more clear. I didn't know if it was because I didn't know her, which made her a potential threat, or if I was getting better. I honestly didn't know anymore. I just needed to go someplace safe and dark and think.

Carson made a motion with his hand to quiet her. He was acting like I was being scary, but I was so far beyond that I didn't understand. I felt empty, used up. I was swaying on my feet, my muscles trembling from exhaustion. I didn't understand why he was being so wary. I didn't feel scary. I was the furthest thing possible from scary.

The door opened behind me and in the half a second it took me to process the noise I had whirled to face the door. My hand moved to the knives on my thigh but they were gone. I moved to the one horizontal across my low back. My hand tightened on the handle, but I stilled when I recognized Negan stepping into the room.

I glanced back at Doctor Carson and Theresa and both of them were watching me with wide and fearful eyes. Okay, maybe I was being a little scary.

Negan's head was cocked to the side as he stepped into the room. His eyes going from me to the two people behind me. "What the shit doc?" he asked. "I sent my friend here to be taken care of and what? Are you denying her service?"

"Of course not," Carson said. "We were all just getting acquainted again," the doctor replied smoothly.

Negan stood there and stared at my face for several moments before he moved. It felt like he was moving way too fast, but I knew he wasn't. He was always very careful to move slowly so he wouldn't startle me. He stepped up beside me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I wanted to wrap myself in that heat. I was so cold my teeth would have been chattering if my jaw wasn't aching from being clenched so tightly.

"You need to let the doc look at you Jo," Negan's voice was low and gravely.

I shook my head. "I jus-" my voice was rough and I cleared my throat. "I-I," I shook my head again, or maybe I had never stopped. I closed the distance between us so we were only inches apart. I leaned towards him so no one else in the room could hear me. "I can't do this right now," my eyes were closed and I could feel him, inches away from my lips as I spoke. "I just need to get cleaned up. I'll be fine," I promised him opening my eyes so he could see I was telling him the truth.

Negan looked down at me, from inches away, his face thoughtful. Finally he nodded. He took my arm in his hand and led me towards the door. He glanced back at the doctor over my head and pointed his finger at his chest. "You stay available,"

Negan led the way through the compound and just being away from everyone else made it easier for me to breathe. I wasn't really paying attention where we were headed. I had assumed he was taking me back to my dorm until we passed the guards waiting outside his rooms. I hesitated, not quite pulling away from him, but slowing. I didn't have it in me today to deal with his wives. I was already teetering on the edge and he was going to push me off with one of his charmingly aggressive smiles.

Negan turned to face me. He followed my gaze which was locked on the door that led to the lounge we had been in on my last visit. He made a noise in the back of his throat and he tugged more firmly on my arm, pulling me further down the hall to the last of three closed doors. He opened it and stepped aside, letting me enter in front of him.

I hesitated, it was a room similar to mine, but nicer. To the left was a king size bed, a kitchenette against the fall wall, with an open door that appeared to lead to a large bathroom. To the right was a small sitting area, with a couch, comfy chair and surprisingly a large overfilled bookcase. Next to the bookcase was another door that from it's position I assumed led into the lounge next door.

Shame burned through me. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't need or want to be here. That shame helped me burn away the last of the fogginess, it helped me focus on this new threat that was every bit as dangerous for me.

"I should go," I muttered. "I can-" I started to say.

Negan swung back around to face me. "You're staying here until we can get this shit figured out."

I frowned. "My dorm-" I started to say but he cut me off.

"-Is isolated, easy to break into and bombs aside there are still three guns unaccounted for out there and it's obvious that asshole has a major hard on for you." Negan's eyes were dark and dangerous by the time he finished speaking and I took half a step back. "This is the safest place in the compound," he added, working to lighten his voice when he noticed how I had tensed.

I was hurt and exhausted and probably not thinking very clearly. Which is possibly the only explanation for what I did next. I lifted my chin challengingly and cut my eyes to the door. "Is that because they are here?" I asked. I realized in that moment I was not only mad but also hurt. It was undeniable that there was something between us, but there were women on the other side of that door standing between us. It was something I wouldn't overlook. I couldn't. And just knowing that made my chest ache.

Negan's eyes flared for a second and I knew I had pushed him too far. He was an alpha male who's territory had not only been attacked but also invaded, and he had been unable to keep someone under his care safe. It was a stupid time to challenge him.

"As a matter a fact," he drawled dangerously. "Yes. I keep guards up here full time to keep this part of the compound safe," he paced around me, anger radiating off of him. When he stopped in front of me once more he leaned in, so his lips were only inches from mine. "I protect what's mine," he growled. Then he spun away from me and moved to the bathroom.

I was left trembling with my heart thundering in my ears. I closed my eyes for a moment trying to get myself together. I was in no condition to play games with Negan. He was a master manipulator and I was far from being at my best.

I heard water start and my eyes snapped open. I moved to the door and Negan was bent over the tub, adjusting the water for the shower. Once satisfied he moved to a cupboard and pulled out a large, fluffy navy towel, tossing it onto the toilet lid.

I blinked in confusion as I trailed behind him. "What-?" I started to ask but closed my mouth uncertain what I was even going to say.

"Were you not goddamn listening to what I just said?" Negan growled sardonically. I was testing his patience, I could see that, but there was something else going on here too. Something I was missing.

I nodded. He protected what was his. He took care of what he considered his. I wasn't sure how I felt about him so blatantly claiming me, but today wasn't the day to argue with him. I was vulnerable and raw and just maybe, in a way, he might be too.

"Good," he said nodding briskly. "We are going to have a long talk once you're done," he said firmly and he stepped out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him.

Shaking my overtired head I kicked off my boots and stripped away my socks. I jolted as I felt heat rising up from the tile floor. I snorted. Of course Negan would have figured out a way to have in-floor heating in the middle of the freaking apocalypse. I stepped up to the tub and checked the water temperature. I cranked it hotter and shrugged out of my jacket.

Glass fell out from beneath it, shattering further as it rained down around my bare feet. It scraped against my skin and I shook out my hair and more fell, tinkling to the tile floor.

"Jo!" Negan called from the other side of the door. "What in the name of shit was that?"

"Um..." I called back uncertainly. I was too busy looking around, trying to figure out how I could get out of the glass without cutting up my feet to answer him.

"Did you break my goddamn mirror?" he demanded, impatience making his voice rough.

Unfortunately, I had waited too long to answer him and I hadn't locked the door. Negan shoved it open, his eyes narrowed. He paused when he spotted me standing in the middle of a pile of glass.

"What the shit? Where the shit did all that come from?" he exclaimed in exasperation.

"He ah-" I mumbled.

Negan closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. Then he nodded in understanding before i finished speaking. "He shot that damn window," he finished for me.

I nodded, fidgeting with my hands. I really didn't want to get any more of that glass stuck in me than I already had. "I was right below it."

"Why the shit didn't you say anything?" he practically yelled striding across the large bathroom. His boots crunched the glass where he walked and it was an effort to force my feet to stay glued in place in the face of his anger.

With my only other option being to let him see fear in my eyes, I glared up at him, angry he made me feel like this was somehow my fault. I turned at the waist and pointed at my bloodied left arm. "I was sort of shot," I snarled back, my indignant anger rising to meet his own. "And then there was a damn herd! Forgive me, but a little glass was pretty low on the list of priorities!"

Negan rocked back on his heels and stared at me like he had never seen me before. My hands were balled into fists and my chest was heaving with the effort of keeping my feet in place when all I wanted to do was slap him and then stomp out of here. I just wanted to be alone.

Negan let out a low whistle and a slow, pleases smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Well that doesn't seem to be the case now does it Hot Friend?" he growled, I might have been wrong but there was a hint of playfulness beginning to edge out his simmering anger.

I sighed and hung my head. I gave up. I didn't know what he wanted. "Can you just-" I started to say and then stopped myself. The towel was a little far, but if I could take one step I would be able to reach it and throw it down over the glass.

"Ah, no," he replied glibly and he stepped up next to me and before I could move he scooped me up in his arms. He pulled aside the shower curtain with one hand and set me in the back. The water instantly began soaking my clothes and a stream of red started running down the drain.

Negan jerked the shower curtain closed between us. "Throw your clothes out before they get soaked," he called. The shower curtain suddenly felt incredibly flimsy between us as I peeled away the already soaked clothing. I tossed it out the back like he said, doing my best to keep the curtain between us. The large bathroom suddenly felt a lot smaller and I was suddenly incredibly aware of every move he made.

The towel suddenly appeared over the top of the shower. "Call me when you're done."

The glass crunched beneath his feet, the door closed behind him and he was gone. I spun away from him and let out a strangled sob. I had been holding onto everything, holding everything back and I couldn't do it anymore. I leaned my head forward against the shower wall and just let the spray run over me.

Negan's mercurial moods were as hard to navigate as the internal war I raged every day and I wasn't sure how long I could balance them. He was like two people. There was the persona he put on when other people were around. That was the man who kept us all safe, who kept the entire community running, who had four wives not fifty feet from me. But the other man, the one who sat beside me on the catwalk so I could sleep, who had thrown himself over a fence to fight beside me, who had kissed my hair and told me to be safe. That man was infinitely more dangerous to me. Because that man made me willing to put up with the persona, he made me understand the necessity of it, and even a small part of me respected him for its creation.

I thudded my forehead against the tile. Things were so much easier in that damn ring.

I don't know how long I stood there. It must have been a long time because there was a soft knock at the door. I flinched, nearly falling on the slippery floor.

"Jo," Negan's voice called through the door. "I had some clothes and food brought up," he said and there was no anger or frustration. His voice was gentle as he asked, "Are you ready to get out?"

"Yeah, just about," I called back loudly. I snatched up his shampoo and quickly washed up. I was going to smell like him, but there was no avoiding it. There was no other option. The smell of sandalwood and citrus filled the bathroom as I scrubbed my scalp, trying to get any remaining it's of glass out. I tried not to notice how much I liked it.

I hissed as the soap hit my arm. I glanced down at it. It wasn't bleeding freely anymore but the wound was still oozing. It was deeper than I thought, and was going to be an ugly scar. I flexed the arm and though I winced in pain everything worked. I was lucky it only seemed to be muscle damage.

I turned off the water and pulled down the towel, wrapping it tightly around myself. I opened the shower curtain.

"Okay," I called loudly.

Negan hesitated in the doorway for only a second, then he moved towards me and his eyes darkened. Any other time I had seen them do that it had been sign that things were getting dangerous. This felt like a physical caress along my wet skin and I shivered. He noticed. I tightened my grip on the top of the towel.

Four wives . I reminded myself.

His eyes suddenly zeroed into the gash on my arm and the moment was gone. His face hardened with steely determination and he was all business. I bit back my sigh of disappointment.

Four wives. I reminded myself again.

He scooped me up in his arms effortlessly and carried me across the bathroom. He set me down on the toilet and pointed a stern finger at my chest. "Stay," he commanded and he moved over to the sink.

He pulled a first aid kit out from under the sink and made quick work of wrapping my arm in non-stick gauze and then with vet wrap. "If that keeps bleeding you're going straight back to Carson to get stitched up. I don't care about your feelings."

I nodded, thinking bitterly that he had never spoken truer words. He stepped back out of the bathroom and came back in with a pile of clothes.

"I make no promises, Regina grabbed them from your room," he said gruffly and he pulled the door closed behind him as he left me alone again.

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So...what did you think? I hope you liked it! It was kind of a tough update to write at first, couldn't quite figure out how to get everyone where I wanted them. Don't worry next update coming soon!