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Jo

My foot caught on something and slipped sideways out from under me. I fought to right myself, knowing if I went down it was done. But even I wasn't strong enough to fight gravity. I fell backwards into a cold body. The growls surrounded me as teeth clamped down on my forearm.

I froze in shock and horror as I looked down to see the biter latched onto my forearm.

It was like the whole universe slowed. I could feel and hear nothing but my own heartbeat. My eyes widened as the slow horror of what I could see but not yet feel settled down into the marrow of my bones.

I was bitten.

Suddenly, time seemed to catch up. There was movement all around me. When I looked up Tom and Negan were there, killing the last of the biter's. They moved through the remaining herd with brisk efficiency. Their appearance snapped me back into motion. The world didn't end here. I still had things to do.

I slammed my opposite knife straight down through the biter's skull and it jerked once before it's teeth released enough for it to fall backwards away from me.

I staggered a step and suddenly Negan was there. His hands clamped down on me just this side of being painful. He wasn't loud, or angry or anything else I had grown to expect from him. Instead there was a strange, silent intensity to Negan I had never seen before. A sort of grim resolve to deal with whatever was in front of us. This was Negan at his core. Every genuine piece of Negan was shining out his eyes at that moment.

Tom disappeared and I could hear movement and shouts behind us. When I tried to turn to see what was happening Negan gave me a rough jerk.

"Look at me," he ordered but his voice caught in his throat.

I started to look down but he shook me roughly by that arm. The arm he had locked in a vice grip. The arm. Almost without conscious thought my mind began to separate myself from this situation, from what was about to happen. My mind was good at insulating and protecting itself, it learned that skill long ago. This was just more of the same.

"Tom!" Negan yelled. "Where are you?!" He bellowed looking over my head.

Then he looked down at me. "Keep your eyes on my face," he ordered as though I were someone else. Someone who couldn't handle the reality of what was happening. Someone who would panic.

Tom's feet slapped against the ground as he reappeared. Other Savior's surged past us to get to the rest of Matt's people. But Tom stayed right at Negan's side. There was a hatchet in his hands. He pulled out a lighter and held it along the blade.

I felt all the blood drain from my face as I realized what he was doing. It happened so fast I was instantly light headed and I tore my eyes away from the grim sight. My breath started coming too quickly and adrenaline surged through me so fast I was alternately shaking and felt like I was going to pass out.

I kept my eyes locked on Negan's face.

He turned my arm over, inspecting the damage. Trying to decide how far up he was going to have to make the cut. It had been my left forearm. Looked like Merle and I were going to match.

I closed my eyes for just a second as bile rose in my throat.

Merle had cut his own hand off, I couldn't imagine the strength it took to do that. I had seen this happen to others. Seen them fight against the people trying to help them. Seen them thrash and scream. It only made it worse for everyone involved. When I looked up at Negan's grim face I could see how much having to do this would hurt him. 

I locked myself down. I was already numb, unable to feel the pain aside from a distant throb. I gritted my teeth together so hard it felt like I was going to snap my own jaw. I wouldn't make a sound. I wouldn't fight. I wouldn't do that to him.

I opened my eyes. Negan was staring down at The arm. I forced myself to study his face and not think about what was happening to me.

His dark brows were knit together in concentration over his coffee colored eyes which were carefully concealing any emotions he might be feeling. Even this close it was impossible to see the line between his pupil and iris. I let myself notice the lines at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth. Incongruously, his face was lined with laugh lines not frown lines. It spoke to the life he lived before all of this, before me. Before this world made him what he was.

He released my arm suddenly, reached out and jerked my jacket off my shoulders roughly. It fell to the floor. I flinched at his sudden action. I stumbled and nearly went down, but Merle was there. He came up behind me and caught me against him. At first steadying me, but then holding me fast as Negan's hand latched onto my bare forearm.

I had just finished fighting. I had willingly turned all the dark places in my head loose. My blood was up. My heart was thundering in my ears. I was injured.

And I had just been grabbed from behind.

Every piece of me. Every dark and primal instinct that had kept me alive this long kicked in and demanded I fight back.

"Stay with me sweetheart," Negan's voice was a rough command. Somehow, he seemed to sense how little control I had in that moment despite the fact that I hadn't reacted.

I closed my eyes against the compulsion to fight. I was shaking with the effort of containing myself.

"Easy there Barbie," Merle said in a warning voice. I wrapped my free hand around the arm Merle had wrapped around me. I held it against me tighter, forcing myself to stillness.

Stop, reset. They were trying to help me. I knew they were trying to help me.

Negan's brows furrowed further as he moved shaking hands over my skin. He jerked my arm around so fast it felt like he was going to rip it out.

"That's still attached," I managed to grumble. Surprised my voice sounded so normal when it wouldn't be for long. He scowled at my gallows humor but didn't look up.

He ran his hands back and forth over the skin then turned my arm over once again and did the same.

"Jesus, I think I'm going to be sick," Tom muttered and he turned away from us. There was a metallic clang as he threw something across the room. It took my brain a moment to realize it had been the hatchet that he threw.

Negan dropped his hand and Merle released me all at the same time. I swayed for a moment, feeling like I had been cut adrift. I was still shaking and my balance wasn't one hundred percent.

"Shit Barbie," Merle was suddenly there. He pulled me into a one armed hug and kissed the top of my head. Then he stepped back shaking his head. "Ya got yerself one hell of guardian angel."

I frowned first at him and then looked down at my arm. I first turned it one way and then the other. I ran my hands over the smooth, unbroken skin in wonder. A deep purple, almost black bruise the perfect shape of a biter's teeth was forming on my pale skin, but that was all.

Merle stood beside me for a moment, looking back and forth between Negan and I. When neither of us spoke he cleared his throat. "Let's go see how many of these poor bastards made it Tommy boy," he called clapping me on the back roughly and limping after the others. Tom followed behind him a little more sedately. He left the hatchet where he threw it.

When the door clicked shut behind them. I finally let myself look at Negan. He had been silent the whole time. His eyes were glued to the floor between us. I licked my lips but I didn't know what to say.

He moved then, surprising me. He bent down and picked up the jacket. He held it out to me but he still hadn't met my eyes or touched me. It was so unlike him I caught myself holding my breath as I waited for him to say something, anything, but the tension just continued to rise between us.

He slid the jacket back on and I shrugged my shoulders into it. He didn't release me however. Instead, he smoothed his hands over the well-crafted leather. His fingers traced the padded shoulders and down the reinforced arms. What had been designed to protect a biker from road rash if they laid their bike down, was more than strong enough against teeth.

When he looked up at me there was a haunted look in his eyes. "You're okay," his voice was almost a whisper. I could practically feel the fine thread of control Negan had over his emotions.

I nodded and suddenly my throat felt too thick to swallow. The raw emotions in Negan's eyes made tears prick in my own. His hands traveled back up my arms until he was cupping my face. Negan leaned forward pressing his forehead against my own. He was shaking. This incredibly strong, seeming untouchable man was shaking as he cradled my cheek in his hand.

"I don't know why you decided on this jacket but I'm glad you did," his voice was hoarse but he sounded more like himself again so I went with it, allowing him time to regain control of his emotions.

I snorted humorlessly and shook my head. "I didn't. I had picked a grimy old jean jacket. The jacket lady made me take it."

Negan's eyes widened for a moment. "Judy?" He asked.

I shrugged. "I honestly don't know her name," I said feeling a little ashamed. She had been kind to me, I should have learned her name. "But im standing here because of her," I paused and frowned thinking back over the day. "...and Tom." I added because the truth of the matter was I should have been dead several times over on this outing. It hadn't bothered me earlier, but I really felt this one. I looked back down at the sleeve of my coat. I flexed the muscles underneath, the ones I had nearly lost. They were sore already, I was really going to hurt tomorrow, but I was alive.

Negan nodded and smiled his shark grin. "Oh I will." He drew in a deep breath and the grin faded away as he jerked me against his chest in a bone crushing hug. The pressure was uncomfortable against the stitches in my back but I didn't want him to let me go.

There was movement by the doors and I heard Tom giving orders. There was the sounds of fighting and some yelling. I started to pull away, to turn and see what was happening with our people but Negan's grip tightened. "Don't," Negan ordered gruffly. "Tom's got it."

It took everything in me to stay still, knowing Negan needed to reassure himself I was okay. The shaking slowly stopped as we both settled.

Negan shifted and his lips brushed against my temple. "Goddamnit Jo, Don't ever do that to me again," he ordered.

I snorted and nodded. "I'll try not to," I promised.

He just shook his head. "Do more than try. I mean I get it, you have this whole badass thing going on, but Jesus sweetheart-" and he grabbed me once more, this time aggressively. His hands were hot as he grabbed my face and pulled me roughly against him. I stumbled into his chest but he steadied me. His lips smashed against mine desperately. I only hesitated for a moment before I fisted my hands in his jacket and pulled him closer. His hands tightened almost painfully around my waist and I moaned into his mouth.

As soon as he got a reaction from me he pulled back. He was breathing hard as he rested his forehead against mine. "Seriously Sweetheart, you scare the ever loving shit out of-"

"NEGAN!!" Someone yelled behind us.

We turned together, our movements perfectly synchronized as our focus immediately shifted to business. I drew two fresh knives and Negan's gun was in his hand as we ran together towards the fight. Any concern or need for personal reassurance no longer mattered in the face of our people needing us.

We barreled through the first set of double doors into the cafeteria. There were beds set up all over the room and most of the biter's I could see were dead. There was still a small group crowding around what looked like a supply closet. Our people were fighting the herd from the back while someone stood in front of the door and fought to keep them from getting closer.

The danger of friendly fire kept our people from using their guns so they were taking the biter's out with knives. I threw both knives and reached for two more. There were only half a dozen left and by the time my blades cleared their sheaths our people had done their job.

The man standing in front of the door swayed and collapsed back against the wood, sliding down it to the floor. Tom and Merle were there and Tom jumped forward to catch the guy before he hit the ground.

"Ne-" Tom started to call over his shoulder but he stopped as the two of us strided through the carnage to face the man sitting on the floor. The door he was leaning against was a flimsy hollow core closet door, one the herd would have easily broken through.

Negan looked over his shoulder at his men. "Clear the rest of the place. Drag the bodies outside and start burning," he ordered effectively clearing the room.

I hesitated and turned too. I felt out of place giving an order and worried I was overstepping my place, but it was important.

"Use gloves and cover your mouths," I said. "Don't take any chances." I warned them.

Negan grunted in approval and the two of us turned back to the man in front of us. I hardly recognized Matt. He was deathly pale, his skin was slick with sweat and his hair clung to his temples. There was a trickle of blood coming out of one side of his mouth and I sucked in a breath when I saw the two bite marks, one on his thigh and the other on his shoulder. They weren't fresh, and it was too late for us to do anything to help him. He coughed, grimacing in pain as blood coated his lips. He still gripped the handle of a red handled machete that rested across his lap. 

When Negan crouched down in front of him relief flashed in his clouding eyes. "Take care if them," he said sternly. "The ones in here haven't been exposed," he said coughing. "Please keep them safe."

Negan nodded grimly and I could see sorrow on Negan's face. It wasn't very common for Negan to respect anyone. Despite the hard time Negan had given Matt when he came to ask for help it was clear Negan truly respected the other leader. 

Matt nodded weakly and leaned his head back against the door as though it were too heavy for him to hold up. "The rest are dead aren't they?" He asked a little desperately.

"Yeah," Negan said regretfully. "They all died."

Matt drew in a wheezing breath that made my hand drop down to rest on a knife. Matt didn't notice, he was too far gone and his entire focus was on Negan. "Did you take care of it?" He asked Negan weakly.

"Yeah," Negan responded grimly. There was so much emotion in that single word it made something in my chest tighten. Negan took on so much responsibility there were times it was easy to forget the weight of it.

Matt smiled a sad sort of smile that made me realize it was this burden of leadership that led to their camaraderie and respect. "I owe you man," he said and he broke into another coughing fit.

Negan shook his head. "Just doing what needed to be done."

Matt smiled sadly again. "They'll call you a monster for it, but your people will be safe," Matt's eyes cut to me. "Your family will be safe."

I shifted uncomfortably at Matt's implication. I glanced towards Negan, but he never looked away from Matt.

Negan looked moved by Matt's words. I hadn't ever seen so much emotion on his face with anyone but me. After a moment Negan schooled his expression. He cleared his throat. "Is your son in there?" Negan asked motioning to the door Matt was guarding.

I sucked in a breath, suddenly the man's sacrifice made sense. Memories of my family came so fast it took my breath away.

Matt shook his head sadly. "He didn't make it, I had to put him down."

Negan hung his head. "I'm sorry man. I'm so sorry."

Matt coughed so hard he half collapsed forward. I wanted to reach out and pull Negan back, but he was careful to keep his distance from the dying man.

Matt managed to push himself back up. His eyes were bloodshot and blood dripped down his chin. "Do you have a handgun?" Matt asked wheezing.

Negan pulled it from the back of his waistband and held it out to the other man.

"You'll take them as your own?" Matt asked looking down at the gun in his hand. It was resting against his leg as though he lacked the strength to lift it. "Make them strong, make them..." Matt snorted and shook his head like he couldn't find the words. "...Negan," he said shrugging.

Negan smiled sadly, "Yes." Negan agreed.

"Then I know they're safe," and Matt put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Even knowing it was going to happen I flinched. Negan looked up at me grimly before shoving himself to his feet. He grabbed Matt's body by the jacket and jerked it out of the way if the door. He opened the door and there was a hushed whimper from within.

"Alright," Negan called. "Come on out of there." He stepped back and looked at the men working in the room around us. "Merle!" He barked.

Merle limped towards us. It didn't look bad, but the pain must have been excruciating. I knew how tough Merle was and it was rare for him to show when he was in pain. .

"Get these fine people into a truck." Negan ordered.

Merle nodded briskly. He looked over the people grimly and then jerked his chin towards the door. They followed behind him in single file, all looking shell shocked as they took in the carnage around them.

"Eight," I muttered half under my breath.

Negan glanced towards me arching a brow.

I shook my head sadly. "Only eight survivors," I said shrugging. "So few of his people made it and he died saving them."

Negan nodded and shifted his weight. "It was his job," he said tightly and he turned away from me back to his men. "Tommy boy!" he hollered. 

There was a few seconds before Tom appeared, jogging towards us. His eyes flickered over me and landed on Negan, waiting for his orders. 

Negan rocked back on a hip and rested his hand on his bet. "Well Tommy boy, this place is kind of a shit hole, but it's your shit hole."

Tom frowned not following Negan's train of thought. He glanced towards me but I had no idea what Negan was talking about either.

"Matt's gone, what's left of these people are our responsibility. I'm taking them back to Sanctuary. We're getting full up at the Sanctuary though. Might be time to expand our little empire. It'll take some serious clean up and sterilization, but lucky for you," Negan said clapping Tom on the back. "I just found a whole closet full of bleach," Negan chuckled and motioned towards the storage closet the survivors had been hiding in. I glanced behind us to see he was right. It was filled with cleaning supplies and bleach and towels. If it had been me, I probably would have chosen the food storage room to hide in, but the might just be me. 

Negan continued talking to Tom as my tired brain flitted from topic to topic and I lost focus. "It's a seriously defensible outpost. We'll keep it. I'll send a group of Savior's back. A group of fighters and anyone else who volunteers, in the mean time you got yourself a lot of work to do."

Tom looked stunned. "I...don't know what to say..."

"Shut up then. You earned it." Negan clapped him on the back. "Now get to work." 

Negan and I walked back through the cafeteria. The Saviors were making quick work of the clean up. I slowed to help, but Negan's hand rested firmly against my low back as he propelled me through the room. 

"I was just-" I started to say. 

Negan snorted and shook his head. "I know what you were 'just' going to do and forget it. You're hurt and need some rest. They got this," he assured me. 

"I'm fine," I growled at him. 

He just shook his head and chuckled. Negan led the way through the labyrinth of hallways. It was good he had been paying attention because I had no idea how to get out of this place. When we stepped back outside the sky was just lightening. It had been a long night. Negan and I paused, and watched the sunset as Merle worked to get the survivors loaded in one of the other trucks. 

"We'll take this one back," Negan said and he opened the passenger door to the truck we had ridden here with Merle. "Merle'll stay with them," he said when I looked at him in confusion. He slammed the door and walked around, climbing into the drivers seat. It surprised me, other than the motorcycle I had never actually seen Negan drive before. He always had someone else drive him. 

I leaned my head back against the seat and was nearly overwhelmed with how exhausted I felt. It never touched me when I was fighting but sitting still made it rise over my like a wave. I yawned and looked out the window. 

"Is anyone coming back with us?" I asked in surprise. 

Negan shook his head. "Too much to do to secure the outpost. Don't forget there's still plenty of enemies out there. Any perceived weakness and they will run over this place. We are headed back to get you to bed and send back reinforcements."

I scowled and pushed myself up in my seat. A jolt of pain flared across my back. I was fairly certain I had managed to tear through some of my stitches, but I wasn't about to admit to that. "I don't-" I started to say but Negan cut a severe look my way and I settled back against me seat as I stifled another yawn. Maybe he was right, maybe I did need some sleep. 

I felt a little foolish for not considering the possibility of an attack, but thinking of other groups as enemies was a new concept for me. It felt like we were warring tribes and it gave me a headache. There were so many things to worry about, I honestly didn't know how Negan managed on his own. 

I turned to him. The rising sun illuminated his face and I could see the lines of stress. 

"So..." I started to say and I felt him tense beside me. He clearly thought I was going to argue with him some more. "Why Tom?" I asked suddenly. 

Negan threw back his head and laughed. He reached across the bench seat and pulled me into him, wrapping an arm around my shoulders he drove with one hand while he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "And who else would you leave in charge Sweetheart?" he asked in a teasing voice. 

I shrugged, but didn't pull away. Instead, I snuggled myself more comfortably under his arm. "I don't know, Simon? Merle? I'm just curious," I added uncomfortably.  

Negan shook his head. "Simon isn't leadership material," he said evasively. "And Merle..." Negan glanced down at me an impish look on his face. "I don't think I have to tell you Merle is better where I can keep an eye on him. A close eye," he added wryly. 

I smiled in his shirt and wrapped my arms around his waist. He felt so warm and I was so tired. Soon the rocking of the truck lulled me to sleep. 

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Negan

My eyes were gritty when I finally pulled the truck through the gates. Jo had been sleeping for most of the drive. She was more tired than she would ever admit. She was curled against my side. I had one arm looped around her and she felt so tiny. This woman was going to be the goddamn death of me. 

I parked the truck near the door and when she didn't move I scooped her up in my arms. She hummed in the back of her throat and wrapped her arms around my neck. I kicked the truck door closed and Joey opened the door to the Sanctuary. 

"Call a meeting," I ordered Joey in a low voice. 

He nodded and trotted off to gather everyone together. 

When I laid her down in my bed she whispered my name and it was like I couldn't goddamn breathe. I tucked the blankets around her. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with her but there was too much shit to do. 

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