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We Can Change

Negan

"Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can." — Arthur Ashe



Jo could picture Rick’s face when he returned to the Hilltop and realized she was no longer there. Initially, he would show up, none the wiser; get out of the van and probably clump together with the rest of their group for a moment or two. Then he would go in search of Jo. If he didn’t see her immediately outside anywhere, he would assume she was inside somewhere; maybe in Jesus’ office, but likely the bedroom they’d stayed in. When he found both places to be vacant, he would take pause and consider the next option. Rick would pick up his pace as he wandered back out of the house and ask where the medical trailer was, because he knew that was one of the places he had suggested she go to, to get examined by Hilltop’s Dr. Harlan Carson. Jo could assume Rick wouldn’t even get that far before Jesus told him the truth, if he hadn’t done so before they got back.

At first, Rick would probably be confused; trying to process what Jesus was telling him. Then the anger would set in, followed shortly thereafter by fear and worry and more anger. He would immediately run through all the worst case scenarios in his head, he would start pacing and maybe get in Jesus’ face. Maybe he would even take a swing. Daryl would come to Rick like an obedient lapdog and make Rick’s fight his fight as well. Finn would get scared and a little angry. Jesus might try to calm them down, but to no avail. Rick would need to go immediately to the Sanctuary, prepared to fight after all; knowing he would be going headfirst into this and likely not survive, and he wouldn’t want to if he discovered Jo had been killed.

Jo could picture his face. She could picture the way his eyes would be bright and blue as the sky when h first returned, and then change like the sea; growing dark and stormy.

This was one of the upsides of doing all this alone.

She didn’t have to see that look in his eyes. She didn’t have to see his heart break or hear his voice crack as he shouted in anger and fear while trying to figure out what to do next.

And she couldn’t think about the looks she knew he’d give or the sounds he’d make.

She had more pressing matters to deal with.

“Hi. I’m Negan,” the man before her had spoken as he greeted her; Simon appearing just behind him.

She didn’t know why, but he looked exactly like how she had imagined, without actually having thought about it.

Tall, dark and handsome, with a charming smile, menacing gaze, intimidating stance and a very crafty melee weapon she’d already heard stories about? Yeah, she could see how easily he could get people to serve him, grow his numbers and then oppress the outside, surviving population.

“And you are?” He asked when she didn’t react right away.

“Joanna,” she mumbled. “I’m Joanna.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joanna.” Negan smirked, giving her a languid onceover and finding some amusement in how pregnant she was as his gaze seemed to linger the longest over her stomach. “Simon tells me you’ve been on your own a while; been traveling on foot and haven’t eaten in a couple days. That just doesn’t sit well with me. I can’t have some pregnant chick going without food. You got that baby to think about, and children are our future after all.”

“I have a can of lima beans in my bag. I had a knife, but I’m not good at hunting,” Jo remarked; suddenly recalling the Irish woman, Clara, in the woods outside the prison and choosing to borrow bits of her story. “My husband used to do all the hunting for us. He took care of me, kept me safe.”

At that moment, Fat Joey blustered into the room and came to a very abrupt stop when he realized Negan was there. Stepping around Fat Joey was an older man wearing a blue dress shirt, khaki dress pants and a white lab coat. The fact that he was the doctor was unmistakable.

“Fat Joey says I have a new patient?” the doctor asked.

Negan gestured to Jo with his free hand. “Well, she’s not sitting on the exam table for the fun of it. Take a sonogram. Check and make sure mother and child are both doing fine.”

Jo looked from Negan to the doctor, who she had heard earlier being referred to as Dr. Carson. Was he the same Dr. Carson that worked at Hilltop, was the same last name mere coincidence, or were both doctors related? Either way, this Dr. Carson seemed unimpressed by her condition.

“If I’m to examine her, she’ll need to have some privacy,” Dr. Carson spoke, eyeing Negan’s henchmen.

Negan looked between Simon, Fat Joey and Mark. “You heard them doc. Get out.” As the trio retreated from the room without hesitation, Negan turned back toward Jo. “Dr. Carson here is gonna take care of you, and then I’ll have someone bring you some food and get you cleaned up. After that, you and I can talk about your…situation.”

With a wink, Negan lowered his bat and brought it close to Dr. Carson’s leg, causing the doctor to nervously take step back. The reaction brought a chuckle to Negan’s lips before bringing the bat against his own leg and nodding to Jo.

“See ya later, alligator,” he called out, still chuckling under his breath as he grabbed the door and shut it behind him.

Dr. Carson let his gaze hover at the door for a few moments. He looked as if he was terrified that Negan would burst right back inside without warning. The sound of muffled voices, followed by heavy footsteps fading away gave the doctor a reason to finally find ease. His shoulders noticeably drooped with the release of the tension he’d been feeling in Negan’s presence. Turning his attention to Jo, he offered a small, polite smile.

“What’s your name?”

“Joanna Moore,” she replied, giving her full, former married name.

“Joanna would’ve sufficed.” When she made to remark, Dr. Carson continued; pulling a stethoscope from his coat pocket. “Do you know how far along you are, Joanna?”

Jo nodded, watching as he placed the earpieces in his ears and breathed onto the diaphragm. “About eight months, give or take.”

“So, about to pop, it seems.” As he brought the diaphragm closer to Jo’s chest, he hesitated and gestured to the collar of her shirt; silently asking if it was okay that he pulled it down a bit so he could place the diaphragm upon her chest to listen to her heart and lungs. With an equally silent nod of consent from her, Dr. Carson went about his job while Jo just sat there awkwardly. “What happened to the father, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Leaning her head back to give herself some extra personal space between him and her, Jo sighed sadly for show. “My husband died. It happened a couple months ago.”

She said nothing else.

He wasn’t the one her fabricated sob story was for.

Noticing she had fallen silent, he didn’t bother to ask any further personal questions. He didn’t really seem to care about those details anyway and was just there to do a job. So, instead, he busied himself with moving around the room and pulled an ultrasound machine over toward the bed and turned it on. Jo was familiar with the routine from her exams with Nicole. She obliged him by lifting her shirt up over her stomach so he could squeeze the gel onto her skin, press the wand into the gel and then slowly begin to move it around her stomach until he could glimpse an image on the screen. Then, there she was, Jo and Rick’s little bun in the oven.

Jo rested her head back against the headrest and smiled and tears stung her eyes; not because she was playing it up for this doctor, Negan or any other Saviors at this compound, but because the sight always created happy tears, no matter if she was happy or sad.

“Do you want to know what it is?” Dr. Carson asked, unaware that Jo already knew.

“Yes, please.”

After a moment or two of moving the wand around to another spot, the doctor held the wand in place with one hand and, with the other hand, pointed to a spot on the screen. “No penis to be found. You’re having a girl.”

Jo smiled more noticeably. This time it was for show. “I wish my husband was here to see this. He lost a son in the beginning. He never had a daughter of his own. Until now, anyway.”

“Better late than never, perhaps?”

“Yeah,” Jo nodded. “I’ll just have to tell her every day what an amazing man her father was. I just wish I had a photo of him so she can grow up knowing what he looked like.”

“Well, I can’t help you there, but I can print out a sonogram picture for you, if you’d like.”

Jo nodded again as he handed her a towel to wipe the gel off her stomach. “Yes, please. That would be wonderful.” Turning away, Jo cleaned her stomach and pulled her shirt back down while Dr. Carson pressed a few buttons on the machine. A moment later, he was handing her a long stream of multiple pictures from different angles of her baby. “Thank you.”

Dr. Carson merely nodded his own head in response and then pushed the machine aside. “Well, the baby seems to be moving around just fine and positioned well. Have you noticed any spotting at all or had any pains?”

“No pain. And there was some spotting here and there over the last couple months, but I rested then. I didn’t overexert myself unless absolutely necessary.”

“That’s good.” Moving over to a cabinet filled with prescription medicine, he perused the contents once he opened the cabinet doors and then pulled a bottle out. Twisting off the cap, he tipped the bottle until one capsule tumbled into his palm. “Here. Take this with something to drink when you can. It’s a prenatal vitamin. I’m pretty well stocked up with bottles of these. There aren’t many pregnant women these days that require such things, so we lucked out here. You can come back here every day for one. Have you had access to any before now?”

Jo shook her head. “No,” she lied.

She did, back at Mount Vernon, also thanks to Nicole.

“Well, you will now. Also better late than never,” Dr. Carson muttered, returning the bottle to the cabinet. “We’ll make the most of your last month so long as Negan allows you to stay.”

“And what if he doesn’t let me stay?”

Dr. Carson paused and a shadow fell over his face as he grew serious. “I don’t think any of us are in a position to turn you away.”

He had chosen his words carefully. Had Jo not been privy to the things Negan and his Saviors had done to the other communities, she wouldn’t have read into the doctor’s reply. However, she had been made privy. She knew what the Saviors were capable of. She had just met Negan and had just seen for herself the kind of presence he had. His personality and the way he clearly carried himself dwarfed that of the men who served him; all of them falling in line like good little ducks. She could tell simply from those few minutes that whatever respect he must have among his people was demanded of and not earned.

“Well, I hope I can stay,” Jo remarked, plastering a sweet smile upon her face. “This place seems really safe, like it can be protected really well, and that’s important.”

“There are a lot of people here to do that.”

“How many people are here? I mean, how many keep this place safe? I used to live somewhere with my husband that we thought was secure, and it was a group effort to keep it that way.”

“I’m not positive on the exact number. No less than fifty.”

“There’s only fifty people here?”

“No, fifty people who keep this place secure,” Dr. Carson replied. “There’s more than that who are just everyday people like us. Families, with children.”

“How many children are here?” When Jo felt she came off as sounding too eager, she added, “I used to be a teacher before all this. Second grade, and then I taught in another community, briefly, at the beginning. I could help here. I could teach the kids here, if there isn’t a teacher already.”

Dr. Carson shrugged and nodded. “I don’t think there’s a teacher. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask when Negan talks to you.” Looking around at his office, he released a small sigh. “There’s not much else I can do for you right now. You’re clearly not dehydrated, you seem perfectly healthy. There are no visible wounds. You clearly haven’t been bitted because otherwise you’d already be showing signs. You don’t have a fever. You just need to clean up, have something to eat and rest.”

Jo smirked. “Is that your professional opinion?”

“Well, I’m not an OB-GYN and it’s been twenty years since my maternity rotation during my obstetrics residency.”

“What kind of doctor were you?”

He sighed again. “Cardiovascular surgeon.”

“That’s impressive. That’s a heart doctor, right?” Off his nod, Jo smiled. It was easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar. “I think that if you can perform something as intricate as repairing a living heart, than taking care of any other ailments is a piece of cake by comparison.”

“It’s more like comparing apples and oranges.”

Jo sat up completely and turned so that her legs to dangle over the edge of the exam table. “Well, it’s all fruit in the end.”

A knock at the door drew their attention away. Before Dr. Carson could even verbally invite whoever it was in, the door opened up to reveal Simon.

“How’s the patient, doc?” Simon inquired, his gaze lingering on Jo a moment longer than necessary.

Jo couldn’t tell if he was staring because he was suspicious of her or if he just thought she was good looking, even covered in walker blood and dirt as well as sporting a very pregnant stomach. Either way, she allowed her expression to soften more, to give the impression of innocence and naïveté.

“She’s good. Her baby’s doing well—”

“I’m having a girl,” Jo interrupted with a smile.

Simon smiled right back, stepping a bit further into the room. “Well, ain’t that something. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Other than that, she seems to be a picture of health. Just needs a good meal and some rest, is my suggestion,” Dr. Caron finished saying.

“Well, that’s something I’m sure we can manage.” Raising a hand, he beckoned to Jo. “Can you walk okay or do I need to get help in carrying you again?”

“I’m okay. I think the heat and lack of food and exhaustion just caught up with me before.”

With the doctor’s assistance, she hopped down from the exam table. Placing a hand to her stomach she began to walk over toward Simon who still held his hand out toward her. Casting a look to the doctor, she nodded politely to him and then let Simon lead her quietly from the room. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Jo found they were in a grey and poorly lit hallway, but it was lit regardless. Not that she expected to be walking around in the dark. If Dr. Carson had medical equipment running normally on electricity then she shouldn’t be surprised that there would be electricity elsewhere. The Hilltop had electricity, too, and it made Jo realize how much she’d gotten used to not having it, and being around it again was almost a tease; knowing she would go back to Mount Vernon, where the only electricity they had was used to operate the ultrasound machine via the small generator they had.

“We don’t have maternity clothes just lying around the place, despite having had a pregnant chick in the past. We do have a few overweight folks, like Fat Joey, so we’ll be able to find you something clean to wear,” Simon commented, leading her down the hall. And, again, if she hadn’t known any differently about the Saviors, Jo almost felt like this could be a decent place to be. But she couldn’t let their initial hospitality deter her from her goal. “Not gonna throw you in with Gen Pop either. We got plenty of spare rooms around here that go unused most of the time. Most have sinks with running water. This used to be a steam plant, abandoned some twenty or so years ago I think. Turned coal into steam. That’s what they used to do here. So you gotta expect the men working here would wanna shower before going home to their wives and kids. So, there is a shower room. Negan and his soldiers, like me, can use it whenever we want, but everyone else, who works on a point system, has to rely on sponge bathing until they can rack up enough points for the luxury of an actual shower. Only problem is it’s cold water so and the water pressure is shit, but it’s better than nothing.”

“I’m used to sponge bathing,” Jo replied, crossing one arm across her chest and holding onto her opposite elbow and following him still as they turned right down another hall.

Simon looked down at her and smirked slightly. “I’ll find Laura. She’s one of the female soldiers less likely to bitch about babysitting you while you clean up. She’ll stand guard outside the shower room so no one goes in while you’re in there. I’ll get clothes first. Don’t want you to catch your death, standing around naked, soaked to the bone from cold water while waiting on something to wear.”

“Thank you. I really can’t thank ya’ll enough for this. Kindness is not something I’m used to.”

“Well, I won’t lie. We got some assholes within our ranks that’ll shoot first and ask questions later if they’re left unchecked by Negan or myself.”

“Are you like, the vice president to his president? Second in command?”

Simon let out a chuckle as they reached a metal door. Pushing it open, a stairwell was revealed and he allowed her to cross the threshold first. “I might be his right hand man, but when it comes to hierarchy around here, Negan is President, Vice President, Speaker of the House, and all three branches of the fucking government. In comparison, I’m sort of like the Chief of Staff.”

“But if Negan’s not here, are you in charge or is someone else?” Jo asked as demurely as possible as they walked down the stairs, side by side. She gripped the railing tight on her descent; somewhat of a scapegoat for how anxious she was trying not to feel.

“Yeah, I guess in that instance, I am.”

“So, then you’d be next in line to the throne, so to speak? If something ever happened to him, you’d rule the roost?” To deflect any suspicion from him for her line of questioning, she continued on. “My husband, when he was alive and back when we used to have a safe place to live with a bunch of people, he was our leader. If something ever happened to him, or me, his best friend would take up the reins and lead everyone where my husband left off. In the end, it turns out my husband and I were the only ones left of our original group so there was no need to worry about how our people would handle following someone else.”

At the next landing, Simon pulled open the metal door and ushered Jo through. “I try not to think about those things. Better to live in the moment, especially these days.”

Jo nodded, following one step behind as he led her down a new hallway; an exact replica of the one a floor above. They were ground level now; that much was certain, considering there had been no more stairs to walk down. Neither of them spoke after that until they came to stop at a door and he held a finger up to her, signaling her to wait in the hall. Stepping inside, Jo watched as he disappeared from view but could hear what sound like squeaky drawers being yanked open and rifled through. Taking the opportunity with being alone for the moment, no matter how briefly it was, Jo looked around and tried to take in every detail of her surroundings. The direction they’d come from was virtually silent, but there was noise coming from her right, from the direction they’d been walking toward. The noise was muffled and inaudible, but she could tell it was a cacophony of voices.

Simon caught her looking that way as he stepped back out of the room, holding an oversized, grey Led Zeppelin T-shirt with the Icarus logo on it. “Here. Fat Joey won’t miss it. He only ever seems to wear the same fucking shirt anyway,” he remarked tossing the shirt to her. When she caught it, he nodded toward the noises. “That’s the factory floor. You don’t need to worry about that place just yet. All in good time.”

“Thanks for the shirt.”

Simon shrugged and closed the door to Fat Joey’s room and then removed a walkie-talkie from his belt. Lifting it up to his face, he spoke into it. “This is Simon, someone tell me where Laura is.”

After a moment, a voice replied. “She’s outside.”

Simon sighed. “Well, go outside and bring her your walkie. I got something I need her to do.”

“Uh…alright.”

Lowering the walkie-talkie, Simon rolled his eyes and smirked at Jo. “So hard to find good help these days.” With a curl of his finger, he gestured for Jo to follow him as they headed back the way they came, but turned down a new corridor. “Might as well take you to the shower room while we wait.”

They reached the room before Laura made contact via the walkie-talkie. By that point, the two of them were simply standing in awkward silence outside the door; trying to find anything interesting to stare at. For Jo, she used the time to go over her plan in her head once more.

“What’s up, Simon?”

Simon raised the walkie-talkie again. “Hey, come inside and go get a clean pair of underwear and pants from your room. We got a new guest in need of something to wear. Something with a low waistline where the pants are concerned. Clean socks, too,” he replied. “Meet us at the shower room. I need you to do something once you get here.”

“You better not be trying to get me into a threesome.”

Simon turned his back to Jo and lowered his voice in an attempt for her not to hear. “That was one time, and I was more or less joking.” Then, “Bring some shampoo and soap, too.”

“Whatever. I’ll be there in five.”

“Thank you.” Clipping his walkie-talkie back to his belt, he gestured to the door. “I guess I can at least show you where you can shower in there and how it all works. The one knob is a pain in the ass sometimes.”

Those five minutes ticked by and felt like forever. She was shown into the room where there were several bays of metal lockers with a wooden bench within each bay, making her think of locker rooms from her school days. Around the corner were a few bathroom stalls and urinals and across the way was one, large open room. The walls and the floor were all tiled, with about ten shower stalls, separated from each other with privacy walls made up of glass blocks. Jo was actually rather impressed. She couldn’t even remember actual gyms she’d belonged to in the past having privacy walls. It was always just one room with multiple shower heads, which is why she always went home to shower. She was not a fan of being willingly naked in front of strangers. At the prison, the showering was like those gyms, but at least they had rigged up curtains for privacy and no one ever really showered at the same time, with the exception of the couples, like Rick and Jo, of course.

Approximately five minutes later, give or take, a knock came to the door and, before Simon could say it was okay to come in, the door opened right up and a young blonde woman with a nose ring sauntered in, clenching underwear, socks and pants in her left hand and a caddy with shampoo and soap in her right.

“Is this the pregnant chick I’m hearing about?” Laura asked, gesturing to Jo with the clothes in her hand.

“This is Joanna. Joanna, this is Laura.”

“Hi,” Jo greeted, shyly.

Laura clicked her tongue against the inside of her bottom lip and gave Jo a onceover. “How pregnant are ya?”

“About eight months.”

“Dr. Carson did a sonogram on her. She’s having a girl,” Simon informed.

Laura nodded; clearly not interested. “Cool. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” Jo replied, continuing with her shy act.

“So, I want you to stand guard, outside the shower room while Joanna here cleans up. As you can see, she’s fucking disgusting.” He turned and looked at Jo. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Make sure no one comes in so she can shower in privacy. When she’s done, take her up to the Boudoir to hang out with the wives until Negan’s ready to see her.”

Laura nodded obediently; the pecking order made clear to Jo that Laura was merely an underling compared to Simon. This was more useful information Jo chose to store away. Simon left with a simple “see ya later” and Laura didn’t say anything as she handed off the clothing for Jo to wear and the caddy of shampoo and soap. She didn’t even stay long enough to really here the thank you Jo muttered before walking out of the shower room to keep guard.

Jo simply turned around and looked to shower stalls and chose the one furthest away and to her right. Giving the area one last look just to be on the safe side, in case there were any possible lurkers of either the living or dead variety, she stepped into the stall; draping the clean clothes over the privacy wall and setting the caddy onto the metal tray sticking out of the wall underneath the shower head but above the hot and cold knobs. It took a few moments, but she managed to get her boots off, and then peel off her socks, which she tossed away aside. She removed her soiled shirt next, followed by her bra; the latter she draped over the privacy wall with the clean clothes since she didn’t have another one to change into. Next she shimmied out of her pregnancy jeans, which we she was sorry to cast off, since they were really comfortable, but she was making the sacrifice in order for her plan to go smoothly. Lastly, she removed her underwear and tossed them into the pile with her shirt, socks and jeans, just outside the stall with her boots.

Reaching forward, she turned both knobs to the right; forgetting that Simon had told her there was only cold water. The knob didn’t seem to give her a problem and figured Simon probably only ever used whatever stall he’d shown her before. When she was met with the cold stream of water, Jo let out an unintentional yelp and immediately tensed. She stepped back slightly as the water rolled down her body and caused her to shiver.

“Fuck,” she muttered; mentally steeling herself to continue onward with this shower.

It had been a long time since she’d bathed with cold water like this; having gotten so used to boiled and lukewarm water that was dumped into the copper tub back home at Mount Vernon. She grabbed the shampoo first and squeezed a decent dollop into the palm of her hand before replacing the bottle to the metal tray. Slapping her palms together, she then lathered up her hair real good. The entire time she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw as she concentrated on not letting the coldness bother her. Piling her sudsy hair atop her head, Jo reached for the soap, which was contained in its own little rectangular container. Taking it out, she held it under the water and rubbed it between her hands to work up some suds before beginning to scrub her arms clean first. Once her body was lathered up as best as she could reach, not thanks to her stomach getting in the way, she dipped back underneath the shower head again and let the icy water rinse it all away. She focused lastly on her hair, rinsing it all out and when she was done, cursed aloud; realizing she wasn’t given a towel to dry off with.

The only thing Jo could do was squeeze her hair in her hands a few times, as best as she could, to get as much water out as possible and then literally brush the water off her body with her hand. She crouched back down and picked up her soiled shirt, turned it inside out and used it to mop up a few damps spots on her body before tossing it back down to the ground.

She was thankful that the pants Laura had brought fit well. They were baggy, olive-colored cargo pants that had a button and drawstring for keep the pants closed at the top. Jo didn’t bother with the button because that would be pushing her luck. She slipped into the clean underwear first, then her own bra again. Next, came the pants, which were a snug fit and did in fact sit low on her hips because her stomach wasn’t about to allow the pants to go any higher. She tied the drawstring loosely and ignored the button altogether before pulling the T-shirt over her head. Jo stepped out of the stall with the socks and shoved them into her boots. She reached back into the stall only to place the soap back into its container and then place both the container and shampoo bottle back into the caddy. She grabbed the caddy and reached down for her boots; leaving her old clothes to remain on the floor as she made her way out of the shower area and toward one of the locker bays to take advantage of one of those benches.

Sitting down, she set the caddy to her left and her boots to her right. Slowly and one by one, Jo put the socks on and then went forth with the laborious task of getting her boots on; thankful they zipped up and she didn’t have to bother with the time-consuming task of lacing them up. When she was finished, she sat up straight and sighed deeply; already tired from all that exertion. Normally she had Rick to help her with these things lately but, again, she was making a sacrifice for her plans to go forward smoothly.

Rick wasn’t here and she had to do this alone.

She needed to be in that mindset and commit to the story she had created.

After a few moments, and a few extra deep breaths, Jo stood up and grabbed the caddy. Her blonde hair hung damply against the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades; no doubt creating a wet spots on the back of the T-shirt, but she knew it wouldn’t take long to dry.

Walking toward the door, she opened it up and walked out into the hall, startling Laura a little; who tried to play it cool. “I left my dirty clothes outside the shower stall. It was getting too tiring try lean down and I didn’t have enough hands.”

“Don’t worry about it. We got janitors that’ll get it later. We can get that shit cleaned up, too. That way I can get my clothes back soon.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Jo replied; trying to sound genuine and not sarcastic.

Laura shrugged. “No rush.” Giving Jo another onceover, now that she was clean, she smirked. “You clean up well, at least.”

Jo smirked and shrugged as well. “Thanks, I guess.”

“I’ll take the caddy.” Laura took it from Jo and then began to walk forward with a nod of her head. “C’mon. We got a few flights of stairs to go.”

“To the Boudoir?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the Boudoir?”

“It’s this fancy-ass room where Negan’s wives stay most of the day unless they’re occupying their time with their, uh, wifely duties.

“How does he have multiple wives?”

“It was a choice they were offered. Become a wife and they don’t have to worry about working for points. They get the best of everything and they earn it by simply being his wife.”

“There’s gotta be a catch,” Jo remarked, as they reached a stairwell. “There’s always a catch.”

“They gotta be loyal only to Negan. If they had a boyfriend or a husband before, that husband or boyfriend gets to become a solider and not work for points either, but neither can ever be together again. If his wives cheat with their former lover, there are two options. Either she goes back to her boyfriend or husband and has to work for points again, or she stays with Negan and her boyfriend or husband gets the iron.”

Jo knitted her brow in curiosity as they ascended the stairs and reached the first landing. “What the iron?”

“It’s literally just an iron,” Laura answered blandly. “It gets heated up and then Negan presses it to the poor disphit’s face so half his face is permanently scarred. After that, all is forgiven.”

Jo couldn’t react as she normally would’ve—in disgust. She needed to play along, for no one to doubt her intentions and trust her. So, she nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds fair. I mean, if they know what the punishment is for cheating, and risk it anyway, that’s their own fault.”

Laura smiled. “Exactly.”

A few more flights of stairs later and Jo was already out of breath. She tried not to draw attention to herself by breathing in and out, deeply and quietly, once they had come out onto the floor in question. At the end of the hall, they reached a pair of double door and Laura opened them up.

Suddenly, several women seemed to practically jump out of their skins; either sitting or standing tensely where they were in anticipation to greet whoever it was they thought it was going to be on the other side of the threshold. When they were met with the sight of Laura and this new, pregnant female, their shoulders slumped and their features softened. They no longer looked anxious but instead curious and maybe even relieved.

“This is Joanna,” Laura introduced. “Keep her company for a little while.”

Like in the shower room before, the blonde Savior left without a word. She took her caddy back and shut the doors behind Jo; leaving her alone in the opulent room with several beautiful women dressed in short black dresses and black heels.

“Hi,” Jo greeted with a small wave.

A young woman with brown hair and bangs resting softly upon her forehead stood up from one of the lush sofas, peppered with glittery and fuzzy pillows, and properly greeted Jo first. “Hi, I’m Tanya.” Then, she added rather sarcastically, “Welcome to the Harem.”

Jo cast her eyes around at all the women. The smallest of them all, a blonde who looked to be in her very early twenties, seemed just as equally meek as Jo was pretending to be.

Tanya began to point out the others for introduction. “That’s Amber,” she started with the meek blonde, “Frankie, Yolanda and Alicia.” The last three were a ginger, black girl and Latina; respectively.

Each girl gave Jo their full attention and muttered a quiet hello and she did the same.

“Come sit down over here,” Tanya remarked, ushering Jo over to one of the sofas. “Wow, so you’re gonna have a baby?”

Jo nodded. “In about a month,” she replied. “The doctor here performed a sonogram on me a little while ago and showed me I’m expecting a girl.”

“Oh, wow, that’s awesome. Congrats.”

“Is there a father in the picture?” Frankie, the ginger, asked.

Frankie.”

“What? It’s a reasonable question.”

Jo shook her head. “My husband’s dead. A couple months ago. It’s just been me for a while.”

“Damn.”

“How did you end up here?” Yolanda inquired, setting down a notebook she’d been writing in.

“I was just walking, no destination in sight, and I found this place. Saw the dead chained to the fences and figured they were put there on purpose by the living. It was worth a shot to see if there was anyone here and I lucked out. I passed out, though, and had to be carried inside to the doctor’s office. I woke up there. I haven’t eaten in a couple days, and had only half a bottle of water left.”

Tanya knitted her brow together in concern. “Have you been given anything to eat or drink yet?”

Jo shook her head. “No, I was just examined by the doctor and then taken to the showers to clean up. I’m supposed to meet with Negan soon, to talk with him. I suppose he’s interested in how I ended up here and to figure out if he’ll let me stay and, if so, where.”

“Well, he definitely wouldn’t turn you out,” Alicia finally spoke up. “He has a soft spot for the damsel in distress type and you’re clearly that.”

“Especially since you aren’t spoken for,” Frankie added. “If you’re able to spring back to a decent body weight after you have your baby, he might offer you a place among us, if you’re willing.”

“He won’t force that option on you, but it’s a possible option you might be given to consider,” Tanya remarked. Turning toward Alicia, she gestured to the bar where there were trays of finger foods; little sandwiches and pieces of fresh fruits and vegetables. “Make her a plate. Let’s get her fed.”

Jo smiled. She really was starting to feel hungry now. She had definitely worked up and appetite already. When Alicia brought her a plate of food, she also came with a glass of water.

“Thank you,” Jo muttered, taking a few sips of water and setting the glass on the table beside her.

While most of the girls went back to whatever they’d been occupying themselves with before Jo arrived, Tanya sank down beside Jo and kept her engaged in conversation as she began to eat.

“So, do you have any skills? Anything that you can do here to contribute? I mean, you have a baby on the way and don’t seem like much of the soldier type, so that doesn’t seem like the job opportunity for you here. Even if you ‘bounce back’ body-wise, don’t let becoming one of us be your first option. If you have a marketable skill, so to speak, there’s a chance you won’t have to work for points like so many of the others,” Tanya spoke, sounding genuinely concerned. “Like, Dr. Carson, for example. He doesn’t work for points. He earns his keep because of his skill as a doctor and can take what he wants in available food and supplies whenever he wants, as long as he writes down what was taken for, like, inventory purposes.”

“I was a teacher in the old world,” Jo spoke, mid bite of an orange slice; the juice dribbling down a bit from the corner her mouth. Wiping it away with a finger, she set the rest of the slice down on the plate and looked at Tanya. “I taught second grade, and I’ve been given the impression there are at least a few kids here. If there’s no one doing it already, I could teach them. I assume there’s the extra space somewhere in this building to set up a schoolroom somewhere. I mean, just because the world we knew ended, doesn’t mean basic education has to. Reading, writing, math, science…those subjects will always be important and useful as kids transition into adults.”

“I don’t think there’s a teacher. Not in the formal sense anyway. There might be someone looking after the kids, more like a babysitter, to simply keep them occupied while their parents are working, but yeah.” Tanya smiled and nodded as she thought about that. “You should definitely offer that skill up. I think that’s a good idea.”

Jo just smiled back, politely. She didn’t want to be making small talk with Negan’s wives. She wanted a one on one with Negan, getting to the, shall we say, heart of the matter. It wasn’t all worthwhile or a waste of her time though. She fell back on her usual brand of optimism and looked at this as reconnaissance.

“What’s it like, being a wife? I mean, I know what it’s like being a wife in general, but…as one of many wives to one man. Is he a good husband?”

Tanya took a moment before nodding. She even smiled but the smile didn’t reach her eyes; something which wasn’t lost on Jo. “He’s decent. He never forces himself on any of us. Nothing like that. In fact, one of the rules here is no rape. It might even be his number one rule. When he’s in the mood, one of usually volunteers; unless he has a preference that night. The only time we really say no is if it’s our time of the month. He’s not rough or hurtful.”

“He ain’t exactly Don Juan, though,” Frankie muttered, a bit more bitterly.

“What are the downsides?” Jo wondered, trying to come off as naively curious.

“Aside from having sex with him?” Frankie almost laughed. “I’m not saying he’s terrible in bed, but he’s not who I would’ve chosen to marry and spend the rest of my life with if I didn’t have better options. I was a massage therapist in the old world. I’m not cut out for the work floor, so I opted for this life instead. We’re stuck here most hours of the day, with little to do.”

“At least the rest of the assholes here can’t lay a finger on us,” Yolanda remarked and then frowned as she noticed the way Amber began to pout and sulk. “Sorry, Amber. Obviously Mark is exempt from the ‘asshole’ umbrella.”

“Mark,” Jo repeated. “Young guy, blondish-brown hair, blue eyes and could’ve been a model?”

Amber perked up and finally gave Jo her attention for the first time since Jo arrived to the Boudoir. “Yeah. He was my boyfriend before I married Negan,” she spoke in a small voice. “I only married Negan to guarantee my mother medication because she isn’t able to work for it herself. Now she gets it all for free. That’s the only upside for me; that my mother is taken care of.”

“I lived in two different communities before, each with a lot of people, and we all had equal rights to whatever medication and supplies we had. We all worked together; not one person more important than the other. We were happy, or as happy as you can be in this kind of world,” Jo commented; referencing both Woodbury and the prison in regard to the amount of people that had access to medication and supplies.

“What happened to those places?”

“The first place was this small town in Georgia, where I’m from. The streets were blocked off and everything ran smoothly there, like life was before, but the leader turned out to be this real monster. Attacked me, and I was lucky enough to have had a friend who helped me get away. The group I ended up with next is the one that found me and we found this prison to stay in. We made it safe, until it wasn’t.”

“What happened to make it not safe?” Yolanda asked, seeming rather intrigued.

“The leader from the first community attacked us. He lost his town. The people there found how the monster he was. Eventually he found a large group of new people, rallied them together and came for us at the prison. They had a tank and everything. Blew holes into the buildings, ran down our fences with the tank and their trucks. Murdered my friends. My husband and I got away. We lost everything we had there and we’d been on the road ever since. Decided to put it all behind us and come north, with a hope of something better out there for us. But then I lost my husband, so it’s been just me.”

Each of the wives seemed to be on the edge of their seats.

“Oh my god, that’s so horrible,” Tanya remarked. “You lost everyone, like, all at once like that?”

“Pretty much,” Jo nodded.

“I don’t know how I would’ve gone on after that,” Alicia muttered quietly.

“I had to. I was pregnant,” Jo replied. “Everything was for my baby. My husband and I were determined find safety; someplace to call home so we could raise our children and where we didn’t have to worry about when our next meal would be.”

“Well,” Tanya smiled sadly, placing a hand to Jo’s knee, “You’re here now. You have friends in us. Maybe when your baby’s born and when you start to work, we can babysit for you. It would give us something more to do anyway.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Yolanda nodded rather adamantly. “Yeah. We women gotta stick together.”

Jo smiled; liking the sound of that.

That was music to her ears.

While Jo slowly turned her attention back to the finger foods on her plate, a succession of five knocks, followed by two more, came to the door. A moment later, the double doors were opened up and there Negan stood with a smile on his face.

Each of the wives turned and almost immediately tensed at his presence and it didn’t fade away like it had when they’d seen it was only Jo and Laura. They seemed nervous and didn’t look him in the eye; like little children scared to so much as breathe the wrong way in the presence of an abusive parent. It gave Jo a little more insight into how the wives truly felt about their “husband.”

If they truly cared or even loved him, they would’ve looked up at him and smiled. They would’ve even stood up and gone to him. Instead, they just remained where they were; waiting for him to make the first move to see what it was he wanted—or rather who he wanted.

Slowly, he looked around the room, and he did so on purpose. Negan eyed each of wives, giving them his full attention one at a time. Though he smiled and seemed to find amusement in how they evaded his gaze, there was a slight glimmer of annoyance that was unmistakable.

“Well, don’t all of you greet your loving husband at once. Jesus-fucking-Christ on a motherfucking cracker. You look like someone died and I do not recall killing anyone today.” He grinned. “Yet.” When the wives slowly looked up at him, he just rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding. For fuck’s sake.”

“Sorry, Negan,” Frankie muttered, standing up and walking over to him with her hands clasped in front of her. She flashed the briefest of glances toward Jo. “We were just, uh…shaken by what Joanna told us about the things that happened to her, about how she lost her friends and her husband.”

Negan turned and cast his gaze upon Jo; knitting his brow together in what seemed to be actual concern. “You don’t say,” he remarked. “Well, all’s forgiven, my loves. Go back to braiding each other’s hair or whatever it is you do while I’m gone. I came here for Miss Joanna anyway.” When she looked up at him, giving him her full attention, he smiled at her and held out a hand. “Bring that food with you and come with me. Let’s go somewhere private where we can talk.”

Licking at her bottom lip, Jo extended her hand to him; allowing him to take it and help her up to her feet. Her other hand held onto her plate. “It was meeting ya’ll,” Jo remarked, looking back at the wives as she began to exit with Negan.

Shutting the doors behind them, Negan let out a chuckle. “Ya’ll,” he mimicked with the same southern accent she spoke with. “How far south are you from?”

“Georgia. Decatur, specifically,” she answered.

“How close is that to Atlanta?”

“Maybe, like, two miles. It’s a suburb of Atlanta.”

“Nice.”

Jo didn’t have to go far with Negan. They stayed in the same hallway and everything as they came to another set of double doors with a desk outside it. Simon was sitting there, in a chair, with his legs up on the desk and a pocket knife in his hand, cleaning out the dirt from underneath his fingernails.

“Simon,” Negan greeted. “Don’t let anyone inside while I’m having my meeting with Miss Joanna here, okay?”

Simon’s legs shot down and came to rest normally upon the ground; sitting up straight and nodding obediently. “Sure thing, Negan.”

Flashing Jo a smile that screamed “look how important I am”, Negan pushed open one of the two double doors and let her walk in first.

The room was decently lit, not by electricity, but by the wall of windows with thick, dark curtains to her immediate right, where there was a leather couch and two comfortable looking chairs across from the couch, and a coffee table in between. To the right was also a fancy vase atop a small table, a large potted palm plant that may or may not be fake, a couple of high-end lamps, a sideboard behind the two chairs, and an industrial-style shelving unit behind the couch containing several random items that seemed to be mostly for show and not actual use. In the center of the ceiling there was a rather gorgeous chandelier; something Jo would’ve actually love to have had in her home before the apocalypse. To her immediate left was a large, four-poster bed with two small bedside tables next to it with a lamp on each, which matched the other lamps in the room. Beyond that, was a couple small dressers, a black and white cow-print chair in the corner, a few more potted plants and each wall seemed to be adorned small, framed prints or mounted animal heads.

What struck Jo wasn’t the opulence of the room, but how dark it was, and not because of the lighting. Everything seemed to be either black or dark grey. What little color seemed to only come from the rug on the floor between the couch and the chairs or the green plants.

It was rather depressing, and made her long for Mount Vernon with its brightly colored walls and flowery patterns all over the place.

The darkness of the room’s décor said a lot about the man who lived in it.

“This room is beautiful,” she muttered upon entering and taking in its overall appearance.

“Thank you,” he replied, stepping up from behind her. He moved around to instead stand before her and gestured to the chair closest to her. “Have a seat.”

It wasn’t a request.

Jo obliged him and sat down, letting the plate of food rest upon her lap as she waited expectantly to see what he was going to do next. She watched as he lingered for just a moment, before stepping over to his bed and lifting up his barbed wire-covered bat she had seen him with earlier in the infirmary.

“This is Lucille,” he spoke, holding the bat up and admiring it like it was some shapely vixen that had stolen his heart. “You two weren’t properly introduced earlier.” The smile he wore continued as he shifted his gaze from the bat to Jo. “She’s been a good friend. I can always count on her.”

Jo didn’t reply. She wasn’t exactly sure how to comment anyway. Instead, she just smiled politely.

Negan emitted a small smile and stepped over to the couch after giving Lucille a gingerly swing toward the ground; at a safe distance away from Jo’s legs. Turning in his step, he sank down with the fullness of his weight upon the leather cushion and sat back comfortably as he stared across with Jo. With Lucille coming to rest between his legs, he held it up at the knob with one hand over the other. Neither he nor Jo spoke for a few minutes; both seemingly trying to size each other up and read the air in the room for possible threats.

After a moment, Negan smiled again. “So…Joanna…let’s not beat around the bush. Tell me what brought you to my literal door. I’m in the mood for a good story.”

“Stories should have happy endings.”

“You found your way here. I’d call that a happy ending considering you’ve apparently been through enough shit to have my wives enthralled.”

“Where do you want me to begin?” she asked, as meekly as possible.

“The beginning is typically a good place to start,” he replied. “You said you’re from Decatur.”

Jo sighed deeply, partly for show. She was also trying to drum up enough emotion to start crying when she needed to by focusing on the pain, fear and sorrow she’d felt. It wouldn’t be very hard to do considering thinking about all those instances in her life since the world fell apart still made her heart ache something fierce. Right now, she was also have to focus on weaving a tale to tell him that mixed fact and fiction to assist with her end goal.

“In the beginning, I was married to a man named Oscar. He was one of those that got sick and died right away when the entire world was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I tried nursing him back to health but he got worse and worse and there was nothing I could do. When he died and came back, I got scared. When the television networks stopped airing but the radio still went, I heard the reports about how to kill the reanimated with a fatal blow to the head; that their bite was contagious and fatal, but I couldn’t do that to Oscar. I couldn’t kill my husband,” she began. She caught Negan’s eye and noticed he had immediately seemed intrigued and somewhat sympathetic. He looked like her words had already struck a chord with him. “I left. I locked him in our room and took off to find my brother, but couldn’t get to where he lived. It was already overrun, so I went to my father’s house next but he was already dead. He’d been bitten and taken his own life. Didn’t leave a note, probably because he didn’t think neither my brother or me would ever reach him.”

“I’m sorry,” Negan muttered, and seeming genuinely so.

“That was just the first few days,” Jo muttered ruefully. “I went on the road after that. Mostly just driving around the greater Atlanta area but eventually I knew it had to get away from the densely populated areas. After a couple months I found a community, a small town called Woodbury where the main route was blocked off and heavily guarded to keep the undead out and the living safely inside. It was ruled over by a man named the Governor. He was charming, initially. He was polite, a gentleman. But there was something about him that was off and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Coming there had been a mistake. I got to know that real quick when after he’d invited me to dinner one night I wound up with my wine drugged. When I woke up the next morning, I realized he’d raped me.”

Jo let that information sit for a moment before she bothered to move on. She wanted to gauge Negan’s reaction first to see how she would continue. To her surprise, he seemed almost immediately angered by what she’d said; angered on her behalf. And then she remembered Tanya mentioning how raping was against the rules at the Sanctuary.

She’d definitely struck a chord there and was on her way to having herself endeared to him.

Good, she thought to herself.

“I’m am really fucking sorry that happened to you,” Negan muttered; his face entrenched with a glower. “That shit is uncalled for and unacceptable.”

Jo bowed her head and fidgeted with her plate, pretending to compose herself so she could continue. “I truly appreciate the sympathy. It’s very rare to find in anyone these days.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth.” His response was paired with silence that followed; signaling for her to speak next.

“When I realized I was pregnant, I tried to leave. I couldn’t stay there any longer. I didn’t want to bring my child into a world, or even a protected town, where it’s father reigned as a monster and where no one knew what a monster he was,” she spoke on. “Unfortunately, the Governor caught me and we fought. I did whatever I could and ended up taking out his right eye with my thumb. He got the upper hand real quick after that and was going to kill me but I stopped him by revealing my pregnancy to him. It was the only thing that saved me. He knocked me out and while I was unconscious he locked me in a windowless room in the basement of one of the buildings. My left leg was chained to the wall, I had a mattress to sleep on and only a literal pot to piss in.” Jo looked up then, finding Negan leaning forward and drinking in her every word. Looking away from his gaze, she bit her bottom lip and pretended to become overcome with emotion for a moment. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

After a couple of steadying breaths, Jo continued. “He told me I would only be there until the baby was born and then he would kill me and raise the baby. I had no idea what to do or how to get free. At first I loathed the idea of becoming pregnant by this man when I couldn’t even get pregnant by my own husband. But then I fell in love with my child, the first time I felt her move.” Instinctively, Jo placed her hand to her stomach, recalling those moments with Hope in that dark cell. “The days ticked away, slowly, and then all at once. The only way I knew what time of day it was was simply by when I was brought food. In the morning. Always in the morning. The further along in my pregnancy the more frequently the Governor’s scientist friend came to perform exams on me to make sure the baby was okay, and he wasn’t even an actual doctor. Then I caught the attention of a man the door to my cell. I tried explaining what had happened to me, in detail, and initially I didn’t think he cared or who decide to help me. In the last couple of weeks I was there, the Governor began to rape me again and I had almost given up. But then, one night, the man at my door made the choice to help me escape. He was going to come with me, but had me go ahead without him to buy me some time to properly get free.”

Jo was choosing to leave Sophia out of the story. She needed to make this about her, as pathetic as that may have sounded.

“I found an abandoned house. There were a few walkers—the undead—and I had no means to protect myself. I was tired, I was hungry and dehydrated. I made my way upstairs to a bedroom and shut myself in. Eventually I passed out and I’m not sure if it had been hours or days, but soon a group passing by found me. They gave me water to drink and food to eat and promised to take care of me; that I could be with them, no strings attached. Of course, I was skeptical, but I was too tired to question it. That same day the leader of the group and his friend found a prison. It was secure with two layers of chain-link fencing outside the yard and the courtyard was fenced off as well. Inside was overrun, but somehow over the course of that day, all the walkers in the yard were killed and cleared out. The next day, and the days that followed, the rest of the prison was slowly cleared out as well and we all made a home in C Block. The cells there were ideal, because the doors could be closed and we could be locked in for our safety. The place was cleaned up and made to feel like home, little by little, every day, and it did become home. Most of my happiest memories since the world fell apart happened there.” Jo smiled as she reminisced. “One day, after about a month or so, I went into labor, and I was early. It could’ve been stressed that induced it. I don’t know. The leader, he was the one who delivered my child; my daughter. After that, he and I grew closer, and we fell in love. He became the fathered my daughter deserved and over time, my husband.”

Negan still wasn’t speaking; too interested in seeing where her story went.

“I don’t want to talk your ear off,” Jo muttered, trying to seem apologetic.

“No, no…it’s alright. Talk away.”

Jo focused on her plate. Scooting closer to the edge of her seat, she set the plate down on the coffee table and licked her lips. “The Governor found out I was at the prison and attacked us. Killed three of our people, including our only doctor; a lovely old man who had given up his only weapon, a gun, so I could protect myself. After that the Governor demanded I be given back to him, like I was his property, and no one else would have to die. My husband wouldn’t allow it, so a plan was formed to go to Woodbury; to sneak in and attack the Governor on his own soil. My friends succeeded,” she remarked, leaving herself out of the equation where the attack against Woodbury was concerned, “but only in ousting the Governor as the leader of Woodbury. He ran off like a dog with its tail between its legs and Woodbury resumed under new, less sociopathic management, so to speak.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“It was, for a time,” Jo replied. “For several months we lived in peace. Our numbers grew when we accepted residents from Woodbury to live and thrive with us. Then a sickness came, and we lost a lot of those numbers. A different sickness from the one plaguing the world, I mean. It was like an extreme flu. Everyone who contracted it was basically marked for death, though there were a small few who managed to survive. We found medication in time and borrowed a doctor from Woodbury to save as many as we could. And just as the sickness was passing, when we thought we had a moment to breathe, the Governor attacked again; this time with a new group of followers he’d fed lies to and rallied for his cause. They came in trucks and even a tank. I had been outside the fences with a friend, helping to burn the bodies of the sick because it just wasn’t sanitary to bury them inside the fences like the others that had died. My friend and I were unlucky because the Governor found us and took us hostage. He forced us to our knees and threatened to kill everyone unless my husband agreed to give up the prison. But we still had sick people, we had children with us. They wouldn’t have survived being removed from the prison like that. The Governor wouldn’t hear it. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and then made my husband choose which person would die first: my friend or me.”

“No shit.”

Jo nodded, letting the first of many tears she was conjuring up to fall. “My friend offered herself up. She made the choice for all of us and the Governor cut off her head without blinking an eye.”

Negan let out a slight chuckle. “Sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. I understand how horrible that was for you to witness, but you said he didn’t blink an eye and I just find that hilarious because he only had the one left, right?”

Jo couldn’t deny. It was kind of funny. “Yeah. And I wanted to take his other one so badly.”

“No doubt. I would, too.”

“That’s when the fighting began. Things got insane, gun fire was everywhere. The Governor got distracted and I was able to get away from him. My friends were being killed; left, right and center. I found a young woman, sympathetic to my plight, who removed the binding from my hands and then I tried to make my way back to my husband. When I did, the Governor was hovering over him, beating him within an inch of his life, so I did what any good wife would do.”

“Which was?” Negan inquired, literally and figuratively on the edge of seat.

“I found a large blade,” she began, not bothering with the detail of it being her sword, “I came up behind the Governor and I ran him through the chest. When he fell off my husband, I let out all my anger. I unleashed all the fear and sorrow he’d given me and I cut off his head.”

“Well, fuck,” Negan muttered; thoroughly impressed. “That’s hardcore as absolute fucking fuck.”

Jo shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I think it was all adrenaline. He was a very tall and imposing man who could’ve easily taken me down had he seen me coming. The only reason I was able to stab him was because he was so involved with my husband and because his back was turned.”

“Hey. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.”

Jo became much more serious then. “My daughter died that day; collateral damage in the firefight,” she lied. She summoned all her grief over losing hope and found it rather easy to be swept up in it. Without any hesitation at all, the tears began to fall down Jo’s face as she hugged her stomach and hunched forward in the chair. Unexpectedly, though, she felt Negan’s hand as he reached across the coffee table and covered one of her hands.

“I definitely so fucking sorry now,” he commented.

Jo wasn’t looking at him but she could tell by the sound in his voice that his face was probably lined with concern and further sympathy.

“To lose a child like that, and at so young an age; I can’t even begin to imagine.”

Removing her free hand, she brought it up to her face to wipe away a few of the tears, but she made no move to stop herself from crying. Negan was showing himself to be a sucker for a woman crying. It was definitely the exact in Jo had been looking for.

Sucking in a few sobs under the guise of composing herself to soldier on through her story, Jo looked at Negan and attempted to smile appreciatively at him for this kindness she was showing him. “It’s still very hard to come to terms with.”

“I bet.”

A few short, steadying breaths later, Jo continued on again. “My husband and I got away from the prison. There was nothing left for us there. Our friends were dead, our daughter was dead, and our home was destroyed. We went on the road after that, trying to find safety anywhere. We ended caught by a group of cannibals who wanted to kill and eat us when we wouldn’t join them and somehow we managed to escape by the skin of our teeth.” The altering of that tale was done so specifically so that Negan would think it was just her and Rick after the prison fell, and no one else. “Once we were back on the road, we tried for Atlanta, but that fell through. There was a herd that was hard to avoid. We found a car, but it broke down almost as soon as we reached South Carolina. Our goal was to come north. We thought that if any place, anywhere, had a failsafe in check to protect people, that it would be DC. I found out I was pregnant then, with my husband’s child this time and, for the first time, we felt hope again. We were determined, more than ever, to find someplace to start over; someplace safe where we could raise this child and wouldn’t have to worry about going hungry. We bounced from place to place until it was no longer safe anymore, trying desperately to make it to DC.”

“Did you?”

I did,” Jo specified. She lifted her gaze and held eye contact with Negan. “My husband died while he was going on a supply run for food,” she continued to lie. “He said he’d only be a few hours, at most. When he didn’t come back, I went looking for him and that’s when I found him, in between two houses. His face was gone, an arm had been pulled out of its socket and his entire middle had been devoured.” Jo brought on the waterworks again with the added bonus of a quivering bottom lip and chin. “I had a gun with me, the one my husband had left me with for protection. There were only a few bullets and I’ve never been a good shot, but I managed to kill the two walkers that were still eating him. I found a blanket and covered him, because I couldn’t bury him, not without straining myself in my condition. And then, I left.” Jo shrugged, casting a forlorn gaze toward Lucille, though not on purpose. It was just where her eyes had wandered. She wasn’t even focusing on the bat. Her mind’s eye was focusing on the new story she was inventing for the simple act of sympathy and to cast her in a light of being some damsel in distress who needed to be protected by a strong man. “I don’t know how to syphon gas from cars or how to hotwire them. I was left with trying to luck out and find vehicles with enough gas already in them, that ran, and had keys stuck in the ignition. And, believe, it’s not easy to do.”

“Without those skills? No, it sure as shit ain’t,” Negan agreed, finally removing his hand from hers and sitting back. Once more both of his hands encompassed the knob of Lucille; as if he found comfort in holding any part of the bat at all times. It came across as if it were like an extra limb to him.

“I tried to find food, and often enough I’ve been going hungry. Plenty of times I thought I would die and even more times I thought about just killing myself,” she remarked with a dejected shrug. “I barely had any means to protect myself and barely any food to eat or water to drink, let alone any idea how I would bring my child into this world and keep it healthy and safe. But something in me told me to carry on, that something would turn up. And one day, I found a knife, the knife that was taken off me today and again I contemplated using it to kill myself, but instead I used it to defend myself. I tried hunting animals with it, but they’re took quick, and I’ve gotten less so. The stomach kind of gets in the way.” Jo lifted a hand again to wipe away a few extra tears. “Very early this morning I found a walker and killed it. I gutted it and covered myself with its blood and bile so that I could mask my scent. I figured if I did that, and if I came across more walkers than I could handle, they wouldn’t realize I was alive and that they wouldn’t attack me. I didn’t have the chance to test that theory when I came down the road and found this factory.” All at once, Jo began to sob. She tried to make it appear as if it were a sob of relief, full of happy tears at her good fortune of finding safety after all this time. “My husband would be so happy to know I made it to someplace like this; a safe place led by a good man who protects his own, just like my husband did.”

The last part was meant as a very subtle dig; in that Negan had no problem murdering outsiders. At that moment, it was no or never to bring it home; to do what she needed to do.

Gripping the armrests to the chair, Jo slowly pushed herself. Once she was standing, she took a couple steps forward, turning her back to Negan and brought her hands up to her face. She hunched her shoulders forward and cried some more. She stood like that for what felt like forever, wondering when and if he would follow through with what she’d hoped would come next. And, sure as shit, he did.

Negan stood up and came to stand behind Jo; placing his hands on her shoulders as he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Hey, now. You don’t need to cry anymore. You got a place here if you want it.”

“Really?” Jo lifted her head and dropped her hands down to her chest.

“Really.”

“I’ll earn my keep. I don’t expect a free ride.”

“Well, now, you’re not exactly in a position to earn much of a keep right now. At least not for a couple months,” he remarked, slowly slinking along to stand in front of her, just where Jo was hoping he’d move to. “You got about a month left till pop goes the weasel and then that baby is gonna need you full time for the first couple of months. Let’s shoot for three months from now, we’ll revisit how you earn that keep and until then anything you need, just ask for it.”

“I don’t believe in a free ride, though. I can work, I can do something,” she insisted. “I used to be a second grade teacher and I used to teach the children at both Woodbury and the prison. I can do that here, if there are kids of school age and if you don’t already have a teacher.”

“Okay, then,” Negan agreed with a nod. “We’ll set something up for now. I don’t believe we got any teachers here and if the kids are getting educated at all, it’s probably just by their parents when they’re not working. Work until you pop, then take that time off to take care of the bun in your oven. Go back to teaching when you’re ready. How’s that sound?”

Jo smiled up at him, and not because of what he had just proposed and how she was supposed to feel about it. Sure, if the story she’d just given him was one hundred percent accurate and she had come to the Sanctuary unschooled with the evil deeds Negan and his Saviors had carried out, Jo would’ve genuinely jumped at the offer.

However, she was not a fool to the type of man he was and she was unschooled to those evil deeds he had done and would very likely still carry on doing.

“That sounds perfect.” Jo bit her bottom lip and wiped the tears away from both her eyes at the same time with both of her hands. “Can I ask a bold favor?”

“I love bold. Especially in beautiful women.”

Jo pretended to find pleasure with his compliment. “It’s been a long while for me, but I was just wondering if I could hug you?” she inquired; making her voice seem small and nervous. She knitted her brow together and looked at him with doe eyes. “The last person I ever hugged was my husband and it’s just been so long since I’ve felt any ounce closeness and physical safety with another living being? I mean, you can obviously say no…I was just—”

Negan tutted at her and smirked. Bending slightly at the knees so that his face was level with hers, he stared at her and held her shying gaze. “We can hug,” he confirmed. “I’ll consider it a handshake for our deal at you becoming the Sanctuary’s teacher.”

Jo smiled again, expressing relief.

Slowly, she approached him and was welcomed into his arms, which slid easily around her back and held her in place, despite the awkwardness her large stomach presented between their bodies. Casually, she rested her forward against his chest and smiled to herself.

“Thank you,” she whispered, turning her face upward toward his neck and the underside of his chin.

“It’s nothing,” he assured.

“No, thank you,” she repeated, maintaining herself in that position so he wouldn’t pull away.

“What for? Letting you stay? Well, you’re welcome.”

When she felt his arms starting to loosen at her back, it became imperative for her to act quickly.

“No,” she said again, keeping her voice low as her heartbeat began to race with each passing second. “Thank you for dying quickly and quietly.”

Before Negan could pull away and look at her with a questioning gaze to make sure he had heard her correctly, Jo stood up on tip toe within his embrace, raised her hands swiftly to either side of his face and yanked it closer to her as she sank her teeth into the front of his throat.

Jo bypassed the initial taste of blood that quickly filled her mouth, steeling herself against it, and keeping her teeth clamped down as he began to stagger backward. Negan removed his hands from her back in an attempt to swat at her, and she used those few seconds of him pulling away to reach a hand under his chin and grab at the gaping hole she’d created in his neck. With her fingers she tore past the tendons and gripped onto the bone of his trachea and gave a hard tug. His fists, which he had planned to hit her with, felt at his sides as the light began to slowly fade from his eyes. The gurgling sound from his neck was his last attempts to draw breath as he dropped to his knees before her.

Not wanting him to make a sound as he fell, Jo cradled the back of his head and crouched as she helped him lay down upon the ground and drown from all the blood pooling in his throat that wasn’t already seeping from the considerable gash in his neck.

“You’re not a good man,” she muttered quietly; still very aware that Simon was just outside the door, but that was another bridge she would cross soon enough. Right now, Negan was her sole focus. “This was for Hilltop, and for the Kingdom, and for Alexandria, and any other community you’ve been oppressing and the countless innocent lives you’ve taken to keep this place running with no regard to what it did to anyone outside your fences.” Somehow he was still alive, though his body was started to twitch as the last vestiges of his life began to flee. Taking a step back, Jo turned and reached for his beloved Lucille; grabbing it by the handle and lifting it up as if to admire it. She looked down, watching as he stared lamely back up at her. The last traces of light in his eyes starting to glaze over as death quickly came for him. “This is also for my husband, who is still very much alive, as well as my friends, who had the sorry misfortune of crossing paths with a few of your men on the road a month ago and nearly killed my husband and my brother. And this also so you won’t ever do anything like that to anyone else. Ever. Again.”

Standing over Negan, Jo raised the bat and swung down against Negan’s forehead with as much strength as she could muster in her physical state. It wasn’t as easy as it would’ve been for her several months ago. Fortunately, because of how far gone Negan was, she only needed the one strike.

He laid there now, a subtle gash against his had to match the one in his neck. Blood was still spilling from the latter, as well as the former, and also from his nostrils and his mouth. His eyes stared blankly, his body was no longer twitching and the gurgling quiet gurgling ceased.

Taking a step back and lowering the bat—Lucille—Jo inspected what she had done.

A part of her didn’t feel as vindicated as she had when she’d done the same thing to that Wolf at the gas station months ago, but, then again, this time it hadn’t been done in extreme fear and rage. It had been done as a necessary evil.

She looked at it as sacrificing a piece of her soul to do evil in order to prevent further evil from plaguing this forsaken world.

As she told Negan as he lay dying, she did it for everyone else who had suffered because of him so they wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

She did it so that her people—her family—would never suffer the same.

Jo kept her grip on Lucille as she stepped further back from Negan’s corpse and sat down upon the armrest of the couch. After a few moments, she considered that Simon might notice the lack of any talking and come in to check. Her mind began to race with what she should do next.

Setting Lucille down against the couch, she stood back up and walked soundlessly over to the bed and grabbed at the duvet. With a generous yank, she pulled it free and dragged it down to the ground to drape over Negan’s body. But she wasn’t content with just leaving him there like that. Actually, she kind of liked his leather jacket and began to think how it would serve a greater purpose. So, getting down to her knees, she moved as quickly as she could to pull Negan’s arms free from the jacket’s sleeves, occasionally taking brief pause to wipe her hands clean of blood on the dark grey material of the duvet. Leaning over his body, she cradled the back of his head again and pulled him up so she could remove the jacket from underneath him. Once it was free and clear, she set laid him back down and pulled the duvet over him so she didn’t have to look at what she had done.

Even though he had been kind to her, he wasn’t a kind man. He was a manipulative, narcissistic man who was very dangerous.

She felt in her heart she had done the right thing.

Gripping onto the bedpost closest to her, she pulled herself up and sauntered over to one of the dressers. Pulling open the middle drawer, she found a struck gold in the form of a plethora of white T-shirts. Yanking the blood soaked Led Zeppelin shirt up over her head, she spit onto it and attempted to wipe away most of the blood from around her mouth and down her neck and from her hands. She didn’t bother cleaning her arms because she was going to cover them up anyway. Tossing the soiled shirt to the ground, she pulled the clean, white T-shirt on and found it to be quite snug around the middle but it still fit decently enough; just more like a woman’s fitted tee rather than a regular T-shirt meant for a man of Negan’s build.

Stepping back over toward his covered corpse, she crouched down again for his jacket and slipped it on. It actually fit rather well on her, but she blamed that on the pregnancy weight she had gained. Months ago she might’ve been swimming a bit in the jacket.

Stepping away from the body again, Jo sank down onto the leather couch and picked up Lucille again. Breathing in slowly and steadily as her mind continued to race, she laid back down against the cushions and stared up at the ceiling and draped Lucille across her lap; the knob pressed against the back cushion and the bloodied, barbed wire-covered barrel pointed at the coffee table.

Now, the only thing Jo had to do was to figure out the details regarding how in the fuck she was going to get out of there.





Notes

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay again. Even though I knew where I wanted this chapter to end up, I still hit an inspiration wall. Also, this chapter was pretty long, but I'd say it was well worth it and I hope you enjoyed how it culminated. Mwahahahaha. As always, please R&R!

PS. If there are any letter E's missing from words, it's not my fault. My keyboard is being a pain in my ass and for whatever reason the 'E' key has been sticking.

xoxoHolly

Comments

I absolutely love this story. I love how you re wrote the whole story but still kept the basics and changed who dies and when. I absolutely love that you kept Sophia alive because I really wished they had left her alive in the tv show. I love what you did with Negan. Absolutely perfect.

AliKook AliKook
4/23/19

@Grimesgirl63 @Loul461

Thank you :)

The ending is perfect

Loul461 Loul461
7/7/17

Thank you so much for this wonderful story. I'm very excited to hear that you are planning a sequel, and will be working on "The World We Live In".

Grimesgirl63 Grimesgirl63
7/7/17

I know we are getting to the end but I just do not want this story to be over. This chapter was great as usual and I can't wait for the next update. Glad that your ankle is better and you are settling in with your grandmother. Now, if you could just get that "e" key to work again!

Grimesgirl63 Grimesgirl63
6/30/17