#“I’m gonna give him a goatee so grotesque”

[cowardlykrow]

"Ooooo, you wanna get in my toy box SOOO badd"

[abdomented]

dash!whump and harv!angst for the b’day blogger ;)

HBD @distendedbellies! Hope I got enough angst in there for ya!! -Ripley

Dash curled up on his sectional couch, pulling his limbs in and cradling his sore stomach. 

"OooOhh," he moaned, almost snorting at how freaking pitiful he sounded. This incubation was the pits, though. It was less than twenty-four hours after he'd swallowed the specimen capsule, and already he was too bloated to sit up straight – or stand up at all – and had resorted to rolling around in the fetal position like a wuss. 

His abdomen made a hideous, thick "GLLuorp" sound. He chanced a look down at it. It bulged tightly, giving him a "six months pregnant" potbelly that should've only been half that size by now. Dash pressed a splayed hand gently into the taut surface and hissed in pain: his insides were so tender, it felt like pushing on a bruise. He could feel something oblong and solid shift beneath his fingertips… had to be one of the specimen’s grotesque extra limbs.

The localized pain throbbed for another thirty seconds after Dash lifted his hand from the spot, and when he looked again there was an ugly deep red coloring to the skin there. Dash was about to check out the ruddy blotch some more, but suddenly the fledgling creature in his belly started bucking and wriggling so much that a little discoloration was the least of his issues. Dash tipped his head, clenching one set of fingers in his dark mop of hair and hugging the other arm around the shifting, groaning mass in his middle. He could feel the thing inside him flopping and jerking and hammering his guts. Bile surged up his throat and it was all he could do not to spew it heartily onto the living room floor. Dash didn't care how pitiful he sounded anymore: he whimpered, high and painfully. Moments like these were why he kept Harvey on speed dial. 

"And you say this is bigger than you expected to be by now?" Harvey was asking. Dash could barely pay attention: he was concentrating on biting his lower lip to keep from groaning. He took a deep breath and let the feeling of the soft, firm hospital bed against his back steady him. "Ohhhhh yeah," he grunted. "Way bigger. As in. It was only supposed to be half of this." He gestured vaguely at his domed belly, which Harvey had begun examining. Harv held a stethoscope against the slowly undulating skin. "Mmm," he mused, putting his other hand on the opposite side of Dash's bloat like he was trying to hold it steady. "It’s really active. What’s it supposed to be, again...?" "Luren Spiral… Scar-thing? Scab-thing…?” Dash said weakly, trying to remember. "Y'think they gave me two on accident or somethin'? At least I might get bonus pay outta this…”

Harvey held the diaphragm of the scope right below Dash's protruding navel. The doctor shook his head. 

"Yeah, we can check on the quantity," he said. "It's the violence of the movement in there that I think is the real problem, though. Might just be a more rambunctious species than InCube figured. How bad's the pain?" "It's like a si..." Dash started, and then his voice jumped up an octave as one lopsided bulge in his stomach visibly switched switched places with another, “eight! Ahggh shit, eight and a half…”

“Okay, bud, hang in there,” Harvey soothed as he swiped around on his tablet, “we’re gonna have a look and then get you feeling better. You with me?”

“Mmmph… yeahyeahmmkay…”

“Good,” said Harvey, putting his hand on Dash’s shoulder as a large, shiny ultrasound scanner whirred down from the ceiling.

“That's… new…” Dash panted at the ceiling, trying to let his friend’s tech distract him from the violent alien offspring in his aching belly.

“InCube budget’s always good for a couple new toys here ‘n’ there,” Harvey said with a tense smile. He powered the machine up and detached the cordless wand from its holster. A round bubble of gel appeared on the end of the wand and then fanned out into a malleable disc that Harvey held up to his patient’s heaving gut.

“There’s a joke to be made here…” Dash groaned through gritted teeth, “...’bout the wand… producing its own lube… AAUgh Harv owow that spot hurts…”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harvey murmured gently, “just a little longer…” His voice deepened and got more sincere the longer he stared at the monitor. “Oof, Dashie… Hm… I'm really sorry…”

“Would you stop apologizing?” Dash snipped, voice tight from the pain. “It's freakin’ me out a little.”

Harvey didn't want to know how much more freaked out Dash would be if he could actually see the ultrasound output. The screen was turned away from the bed: only Harvey could see the knobby, slimy nightmare that was winding and spreading through Dash’s stomach and bowels. It had at least twenty limbs, and each limb had hundreds of smaller tendrils spiraling off of it, wormy protrusions that spasmed and coiled around each other like colonies of maggots on dead logs. The bigger limbs had multiple joints that looked… almost bony, like little elbows. Once in awhile the entire creature would spasm and shoot a leg or an arm in an awkward direction; the movement was so forceful and jagged that it made Harvey’s grip tighten on the wand. This awful thing didn't seem like it belonged in a human… it didn't even seem to have a face…

Suddenly the thing’s whole body thrashed and a particularly harsh, snarling gurgle from Dash’s overtaxed abdomen jolted Harvey’s attention away from the monitor. Dash held a trembling hand against the left side of his gut, his eyes wide and watery and his breathing fast like… wait, fuck, was he going into shock?

“Harv… I…” Dash stammered, swallowing hard, his expression alternating from slack-jawed dizziness to grimaces of pain, “I… ungh… there's three of you all of a sudden… oWWowOW… ahh…”

Dash’s head fell back onto the pillows as the pulse-ox beeping sped up… Harvey was rushing to get in Dash’s face and tell the younger guy to keep his eyes open when he saw it: a reddish cluster of bruises gathering around Dash’s straining belly button. Cullen’s sign.

Fffffffffuck.

“Dashie, hey,” Harvey said, quietly but urgently, trying to keep fear from creeping into his voice. As he talked, he guided the ultrasound wand around Dash’s lumpy stomach. “Dash, bud, can you help me out? Can you tell me if that last big movement hurt you anywhere specific?” Fuck. Checking quadrants for a bleed. Upper right. Nope. Lower. Nope. Fuck. Keep your hand steady, Edmund…

“Harv…?” Dash whined. He was sweating and shivering, getting less alert by the second. “I think I might…”

“Shhhit,” Harvey said under his breath and got an emesis basin beneath Dash’s chin in the knick of time. There wasn't much, just a weak, guttural cough that brought up yellow bile. Harvey checked “stomach” off the list of places Dash could be bleeding internally.

“I know,” Harvey said in response to Dash’s shaky, threadbare moaning, “I know, you're feeling really bad now but I promise it's gonna be fine…” Jeeeesus, leave it to Edmund Harvey to be so distracted by a crazy alien specimen that he didn't think to look for a god damn bleed. He wanted to comfort Dash more, to rub his back or his hair and be there for his friend, but he needed to keep searching for the hemorrhage. He could kick himself and comfort Dash later.

He paged for a nurse to treat the shock and stay on basin duty while he slid the wand over more of Dash’s swollen abdomen. Right when he was thinking he'd have to open Dash up just to fucking figure it out, he felt a clammy hand close around his wrist.

“Upper left,” Dash croaked, “you goateed fuck…”

And then his eyes slid shut and he fainted for real.

Harvey’s hands flew to get the wand over Dash’s upper left quadrant. No wonder it was difficult to tell… all of the creature’s bony, twitching limbs were in the way. Harvey flicked through the wand’s different settings and finally got one of the ultra-sensitive heat configurations to give him what he wanted… ugh… gnarly hematoma, clear as day. Would explain some of the extra swelling and tenderness, too.

Harvey turned to the nurse. “Tell them to prep OR eight plus a transfusion, specimen containers…”

He looked at Dash belly one more time. It seemed more swollen than even a minute ago, more blotches of red staining the skin and the creature’s movements rapid and chaotic.

“And everybody better bring some tranq guns just in case,” Harvey added.

Even though admitting it made Harvey want to scream and throw a beaker at the wall, he had to keep telling himself. Had to keep telling himself so he would do better next time:

Dash was really, really sick.

Not like, “low grade fever” sick, or “minor obstruction” sick.

This was “Dash has an artificial spleen now because the specimen elbowed him in the old one and popped it” sick.

The artificial spleens were a recent development for Argentis’s medical community. Could humans live without a spleen? Certainly. But would their quality of life improve in the long run if they could have another one? The odds said yes, and the clinical trials had gone well enough that a splenic implant had crossed over from “net harmful” to “you'll be in an InCube board hearing if you don’t give an implant to an eligible patient.”

Dash had been eligible. But Dash was now fighting strained bowel walls, peritonitis, and a phony new organ that was barely out of its trial days.

He was keeping Dash in a medically induced coma until things looked stable enough to wake him up. Harvey snuck pulls of whisky, and slept in a cot next to Dash’s bed, and watched the monitors until he wasn't sure where the data ended and his own thoughts began. He had to constantly, constantly hold himself back from giving the okay to wake Dash up: as heartbroken as he felt now, Harvey had to remember that talking to Dash sooner wasn't worth him dying the same damn day.

On the morning that all of Dash’s vitals were finally clear, Harvey had a raging headache and an awful sense of dread, like waking Dash up would almost certainly put the nail in his coffin.

Harvey shut the door in the lab’s tiny bathroom, took a couple deep breaths, and cried for the following ten minutes.

Dash woke up just fine. Everything worked: his heart, his lungs, his limbs, even his sarcasm (“Harv, if you start crying again I’ll pop my god damn stitches on purpose”).

The next day, they raised the back of Dash’s bed a little, and Harvey relaxed on the cot, and they watched bad movies.

“How are you feeling?” Harvey asked.

“Haaaaaarv, c’mon, I just told you…”

“That was at the beginning of ‘Lair of the White Worm.’ Now we’re more than halfway through, and I'm not pressing play until you tell me.”

“Once again: I am sore, weak, and spectacularly high.”

“So…?”

“Once again: not too shabby.”

Harvey picked his tablet up and pressed “play.”

“Good enough for now,” he said.

Ripley: Heheh. Might’ve rushed the ending there but again. Happy happy birthday, hope you enjoyed!!

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 2 - Beauty and the Beast

It been three hours since, with not even a word from either of the men holding her, Blake was shoved roughly forwards back into the dank and gloomy cell, the door clanging shut behind her.

And since then she had sat here, cold, alone and thirsty…wondering if she would ever get out.

She still didn’t understand how she had got here?

Had the Saviours captured both her AND David?

But whereas she had been out of Alexandria at the time, a little way into the woods, David had, as far as he had been aware, back at the house they shared.

What were the odds of the Saviours picking up both of them like that?

Had David agreed to make a deal with them then they had gone into the woods and found her? Was that it?

But Blake frowned to herself, here in the darkness.

Did any of that even seem likely?

She worried at her lip with her teeth.

She had nothing for them…no intel they probably didn’t already know on Rick and his group. So was her fate to sit in this cell and starve? And then turn into one of those creatures she had been running from this whole time?

Her cheek still stung where David had hit her. But at least for a second that had reminded her that she was indeed still alive…for now.

She was used to it….the bruises and the welts…. but that was the first time David had ever hit her in front of other people before…

Blake remembered back to all those years ago. They had had an apartment together in the city, above a coffee shop.

The place constantly smelled of sour milk, Blake had always been convinced of that…but David had always cuddled her and promised that once day they would buy somewhere out of town…not even in the suburbs….a little place of their own…just the two of them. They had been happy. But that felt like a long time ago now.

Life obviously wasn’t destined to turn out the way either of them had wanted…

Blake’s green eyes drifted over her lap…just as there came the sudden loud sound of a bolt getting pulled across….

She turned her shadowed face upwards, just as the heavy door was tugged open and in stepped a figure…

Blake half-expected it to be David…

But despite the fact she had never seen the man standing in front of her before, silhouetted in the light streaming out from behind him, she still knew who he was…

He was a person of grotesque legend amongst the people of Alexandria. Some had seen him kill Glen and Abraham…..some had seen him kill Spencer….but everyone knew his name…

He was taller than she had imagined, standing there in a leather jacket tossed haphazardly over a white t-shirt, with his signature baseball bat covered in barbed wire, slung over his shoulder as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

Blake pursed her lips, staring up into the face of the face of the man before her.

His features were long and tanned, and he grinned down at her with a line of straight, white teeth.

At this moment she could feel her heart pounding inside her ribcage, but she didn’t want to admit fear. Not to him.

A second passed, as his dark eyes made their way over her features, before he finally, after what felt like an eternity, opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you know who I am?” he said in a low drawl, arching his back with every syllable he spoke.

He lowered the baseball bat from his shoulder and let it fall beside him, swinging it a mere foot or two from her skull.

Blake looked up at him. This man who had caused so much hurt and pain to the people she now knew as her family.

“Yeah, I figured,” she said with contempt in her voice.

At her words, Negan’s grin seemed to widen. He glanced at a man with straggly blonde hair and a goatee to his side for a moment, before staring back down at her.

“Glad to know my reputation precedes me,” he said, with a slight chuckle. “And you are….Blake, isn’t it? Well aren’t you a beauty.”

He narrowed his chocolate eyes at her as he spoke.

Blake’s own eyes flickered down to her knees momentarily. She gave a nod, before staring up at Negan once again.

He was intimidating, she’d give him that, and none of that even had anything to do with the weapon in his hand….or the knife at his hip.

“I just thought I’d call in on you,” he said after another second had passed. “See if you’d prefer to bunk up with your fi-an-ce for the night, instead of sitting in here, peeing into a bucket? Might make your stay a little more comfortable?”

Blake stared up at him, her eyes dark. But she didn’t give an answer.

She knew that this couldn’t be that easy.

“Or maybe,” Negan continued. “After that right hook ol’ lover boy gave you, you’d rather not be sharing a bed? Hmmmm?”

He had seen that.

Blake’s stomach twisted into knots. She knew how David’s act of power and dominance over her must have made him look….like a fucking hero. And her? Like a little mouse, that needed to be stamped on.

But that wasn’t who she was. That was never who she was.

Before all this, she had had a great career. Been earning a good amount of money. More that David anyway…and yet now look at her. Locked up in a cell with a stinging cheek and a bruised ego.

Blake raised a single eyebrow up towards Negan defiantly, she gave a measured smirk.

“Is this our Beauty and the Beast moment?” she said in a mocking tone, titling her head to the side, her green eyes never leaving his chocolate ones. “Offering me a better room? You’ll be breaking into song and asking me to dance with you soon.”

She half expected this to be the end for her. Her stupid words being the last thing she heard as a baseball bat collided with her skull…

But it wasn’t.

Instead to her surprise, she saw Negan’s eyes light up, as he gave a chuckle.

“Fuck me, you’ve got a smart mouth,” he said biting on his lip, almost approvingly. “Anything else I should know about you? You got an AK47 stashed down that blouse of yours too?”

Blake gave a scowl, a sniff and went back to staring at her knees once again.

The need for his approval of her was not high on her bucket list right now.

“Fine,” he said after a long, drawn out moment. “I mean, you are more than welcome to stay in here,” Negan said giving a short sigh. “But I just thought you might like a walk. See what kind of facilities we have here, at-”

But he hadn’t eve finished his sentence when Blake cut across him before she could stop herself.

“What are you? The hotel concierge?” he bit at him, baring her teeth.

God, at this rate she was bound to get herself killed.

Negan’s lips twitched up into another half-smile, but between his brows the slightest of frowns shifted its way onto his face.

He took a step forwards, dangling his baseball bat precariously in front of her face like a pendulum, tolling the mere moments she was likely to have left to live.

“Y'know I like you much better than your boyfriend,” he said in a gruff tone.

Blake continued to stare into her lap.

“Fiancé,” she corrected with a murmur.

She almost heard Negan smile at this one.

“Ooh, fiancé. I do apologise,” he said in a simpering tone. “But you do realise that fiancé of yours has sold you the hell out. He’s told us that you can give us some information on Rick and the rest of his group of pussies. So either you cooperate, or I’m gonna have to start crackin’ skulls.”

Negan gripped his bat menacingly.

Blake gave a hard gulp. Her throat was so dry not having had anything to drink since first thing this morning.

She didn’t want to die. But David had now put her in this terrible position. If she admitted that she had nothing to tell them about the folks from Alexandria, Negan and his men would likely kill both of them…

So Blake knew that she had to play along….for now at least…

Until she could find a way to escape….

Blake gazed up finally into Negan’s dark eyes.

“So what do you say, Doll?” he said, as he took in her nervous features.

The tall man held out his free hand for her to take.

Blake gave a nervous gulp, her heart thudding in her chest. Her mind was whirring at a mile a second.

But what other choice did she have right now. She had to play for time…

And so, making up her mind, without taking Negan’s hand, Blake pulled herself to her feet and stared directly up at the menacing man before her.

Even fully standing, the imposing figure of Negan was still a few inches taller than her, and peered down at her with a bemused smirk plastered across his long features.

“After you …” he muttered standing aside and holding a hand out for her to pass him.

There was something about him….this Negan….

Despite the fact she’d only just met him…it felt like she’d known him for years. She could read him pretty well. She knew what type of man he was.

Blake gave a slight huff, a frown line lingering between her brows…she was nervous alright, but she did not want to show him that.

And so she obeyed. Shoving past him and leaving the cell….

Out in the corridor were three armed men, as well as the blonde guy with long straggly blonde hair that hung about his face. But none of them said a word to her.

In was only a second before Negan was at her side once again. She could feel his eyes looking her up and down, and she breathed in his musky scent at this close proximity.

Almost immediately, one of the men behind her gave her a shove, forcing her to fall into the step with their dark-haired leader.

And with that, they began to walk…..

Blake was surprised that none of them could hear her heart hammering inside her chest. To her, it felt like it was almost deafening.

Oh, how she longed for the days when it was simple. They would kill the ‘dead’, find shelter…find other people. Good people, who were out for exactly the same as they were.

Survival.

But nowadays this was a different kind of survival. It was the survival of the Saviours above everyone else. That was obvious here.

They turned a sharp corner, the only noise that could be heard being the sound of boots on the concrete corridor floor as Negan led Blake through a door and out into the fresh air, that hit her like a well-deserved wall of pleasure.

She found herself on a balcony of sorts, overlooking a large compound. This place must have been a factory in its day and several pieces of disused equipment still littered the pathways that were obviously once parking-lots.

It was early evening now, with floodlights throwing a stark illumination onto fences-upon-fences of walkers, caged up, tied up, emaciated and snarling….as they always seemed to be.

“So…” said Negan suddenly appearing at Blake’s side, making her jump slightly. He leant against the railing beside them, turning to face her fully, a wide smile thrown across his stubbly features. “…as the Beast said to his Beauty….welcome to my castle.”

He gestured to the large compound with his baseball bat.

Blake rolled her eyes.

“It’s not exactly a fairy-tale library, in a fucking enchanted palace, now is it?” she said, flashing him a steely look.

But Negan continued to grin.

He gave a warm chuckle, as his eyes flitted across her face.

“No,” he said arching an eyebrow at her. “But I do have a huge stack of pornos you can read, if you’re inclined.”

Blake tutted, but didn’t gratify him with an answer.

“We’re not the monsters that Rick has made us out to be y'know…” Negan continued after a second, turning away from her and staring out across the lot. “I’ve been very nice to you andyour fiancé, and agreed to make a deal. And if you come good on said deal, I think you’ll find I can be very accommodating….”

The tall, dark-haired leader of the Saviours turned back to face her.

“…and you might just find there’s a place for you here…..with us,” he finished.

Blake glanced down at her feet, her long caramel blonde hair dancing over her shoulders in the warm breeze.

“I wasn’t the one who agreed to make that deal….” she said suddenly, with bitterness in her voice. “David was.”

As soon as she had said it, she felt her heart plummet into her stomach.

From the corner of her eyes she saw Negan frown suddenly, his face becoming grim.

He pushed himself off of the railing, coming to stand just an inch away from her.

“Sleep on it,” he uttered with a low growl. His lips lingering near to her ear. “You might find you’ll change your mind after a night in that cell.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Blake alone, staring out at the darkening night’s sky.

She knew what was coming….

….and as soon as she heard the sound of the door slamming shut behind her and Negan’s footfalls retreating swiftly away, she was grabbed roughly by the arms and pulled back inside.

This was going to be a long, long night…she knew that for certain.

……………

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