#tpwpchap3

[lovingzombiechaos]

The Price We Pay-Chapter 3

Summary: Negan makes his return. Word Count: 3130

NAYNA

Nayna smoothed the crinkled photograph over her thigh. She traced her fingers over the outlines of William's rumpled face. Creases in the paper hid his once kind eyes and parts of his chin. Every time she glanced at the picture, which was less and less as time flew by, a sense of guilt overwhelmed her. They'd been so happy at the beginning. So in love, floating on top of a cloud. She couldn't figure out where it all fell apart.

A slight rap on the door made Nayna start and then scramble to stuff the picture back into the nightstand. “One moment.”

She smoothed the top of her hair down and straightened her clothes before opening the door to Carl. She resisted the urge to brush the hair from his forehead and away from his bandaged eye. As much as she wanted to be his mother, she never would be.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked from side to side. “Can I come in?”

Her brow twitched, but she stepped back and gestured to the bed. Carl scuffed past her and sat down. Nayna shifted between the balls of her feet as she watched him over her shoulder. After a single moment of hesitation, she closed the door and turned to him. “What's this about, love?”

He lay his palms on the edge of the bed and leaned forward. His dark stare bored into her face. “What are we going to do about Negan?”

Nayna bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Looking at him, all she saw perched upon her bed was Mini-Rick. She pressed her knuckles into her lips to hide a smile, though she knew he would see it in her eyes. She wore her heart on her face.

She surveyed Carl as she leaned back against the door, crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you think we should do?”

Carl pursed his lips, the same way Rick did when he lost himself in thought. “I don't know. I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want anyone to get hurt.”

The pain in Carl's voice stung her heart, and so she crossed the room, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me. I can take care of myself.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but she shook her head and bent down so her face was even with his.

“Carl, love. Please trust me. Trust your father. This isn't a problem we can fix overnight. Right now, anything we do would be the equivalent of rattling the beast's cage. For now, we simply have to bide our time.”

He looked down and fiddled with his jacket string. “I just... I don't want to lose anyone else.”

She cupped the left side of his face and tilted his head up to look him in the eye. “There is nothing you can do to stop death. It's a part of life. It's always been a part of life. It's awful and it sucks. You are not alone, feeling the way you do. But you can't be so afraid to lose something that you let it guide your choices. And you can't shut people out either. Somewhere in your heart, you have to find the balance. It's a lesson we all have to learn, love. Hell, I'm almost thirty and I still have trouble with it.”

Carl's face turned to stone. A sigh escaped her lips, but she did not let go of his face.

“Are you and my dad fighting?”

“Why do you think that?”

He shrugged. “I'm not stupid you know. You've been avoiding each other.”

Nayna settled on the edge of the bed next to Carl. She folded one leg under the other and faced him, slipping her hand into his. “I think your father is upset because I didn't consult him before standing up to Negan. And he had every right to be angry. What I did was stupid and irresponsible and very much out of desperation. Tensions are high. They're going to be high as long as this is going on. Everything will be okay once we all cool off a little bit. Don't worry, we're all gonna get through this together, okay?”

“I just want things to be the way they used to be.”

She patted his hand. “Nothing will ever stay the same. Change is part of life. Gotta get used to it.”

Carl's lips twitched. “You're one to talk. You still wear your hair in the same braid, you still wear the same earrings every day, you sit in the exact same place for every meal and when you're patrolling you take the exact same path all the time.”

“Listen you little turd,” Nayna said, a grin spreading across her face, “I am old and set in my ways. Don't become me.”

He squinted at her, and then shook his shaggy head. “Whatever. Look... Keep me in the loop, okay? I know I'm young, but I'm old enough.”

She nodded. “I know... It breaks my heart. I wish you'd gotten to be a kid for a while longer.”

“I don't mind.”

She smiled at him, remembering the self-importance that came with being fifteen and newly responsible. Carl wore that same look of distinct pride, knowing how much everyone counted on him. Unlike Rick, who hated it and fumbled quite often, Carl would be groomed for the role. And when the time came, he would be prepared.

He stood up, still holding her hand. She squeezed it.

“We’re gonna get through this Carl. All of us. In one piece. Trust me. Trust your dad.”

Negan came to the gate at precisely ten in the morning, the exact time he’d told them the previous week. Or he’d told Rick after she’d walked away. Everyone amassed at the town entrance, waiting as Eugene and Rosita dragged the massive gate open.

The tall, broad man himself sauntered in with a thousand watt smile and that goddamn bat swinging from his right hand. His men filed in, armed to the teeth with rifles and guns and swords and other bullshit weapons.

Her stomach clenched as she fingered the bow, the last gift William had given her before he’d gone on cruise. The last time she’d ever seen him.

“Hello, hello, hello all you motherfuckers.”

She could feel the collective grimace of the crowd, though she only wanted to roll her eyes at his over enthusiasm.

A few steps ahead, Rick stood, fists clutched to his sides as Negan strode up to him. “So, this is what’s gonna fucking happen. My men are going to fucking go through the houses, take half of everything and then we should be good to go.”

Negan’s eyes searched the crowd until he found her and he grinned, clapping Rick on the shoulder. “I’m gonna make myself better acquainted with Nayna in the meantime. The rest of you can get back to whatever it is you fucking fucks were doing. Scamper along.”

When the crowd had dispersed Negan turned to her with an almost friendly smile on his face. He hoisted his damned bat over his shoulder and gestured along the road. She fell into step beside him, staring ahead with her jaw locked.

“So, Naaaayna,” he said in a slight singsong voice.

She decided it was best not to respond. Instead she pressed her lips together and kept her eyes glued to the horizon.

“Were your parents hippies or something?”

“No,” she said, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Why?”

He studied her through half lidded eyes. “Trying to figure out where the name Nayna came from.”

She half-shrugged. “Who said it was my given name?”

“What is your given name?”

A twitch on her lips betrayed a smile. “If I won’t tell Rick my name, why do you think I would tell you?”

“Because if you fucking don’t I’ll bash your brains in.”

Laughter burst from her throat at the ridiculousness and earnest sentiment of his statement . “No, you won’t. I’m the only leverage you have over the community.”

His beard twitched, betraying a tiny smile that he tried to mask as a scowl. “One of your fucking friends, then.”

She snorted. “No, you won’t.”

He raised a brow at her, but didn’t push the subject. “Fine, I fucking won’t. But you owe me an answer then.”

“An answer to what?”

“What were your fucking parents?”

Nayna stopped and tilted her head back to stare into his handsome face. She sighed. “My dad was a drug addict and my mom was a shrew. Happy?”

“Drug addict huh? Coke, meth?”

“Narcotics. Painkillers…Look, why do you care?”

“Oh, I fucking don’t. Not really. Just making conversation.”

She said nothing, instead watching as his men wandered in and out of the houses in Alexandria taking what they thought was theirs, what they thought they were entitled to. It made her heart burn hot, but she forced herself to look anyway, to make a mental note of everything they were going to take. After a few pensive moments Negan cleared his throat and she slowly turned her attention back to him with a solitary shake of her head.

“Ah, I see what you’re doing, Negan. You’re trying to make me uncomfortable, anxious, upset. You’re trying to get into my head and manipulate me emotionally. Sorry, I grew up with all that bullshit. You can’t fuck with me. Not like that.”

He twirled Lucille over his shoulder, his eyes over her head, gazing at his men. “Funny, I seem to be getting a fucking rise out of you anyway, doll.”

“Of course you’d say that, asshat. Any tone, warble or quiver to my voice and you’ll assume I’m emotional or sad or what the fuck ever. As long as we’re on that page, I give no fucks how you feel or what you think of me.”

Negan smirked and his fingers curled into the nape of her neck, sending shudders quivering down her spine. She stiffened at the unexpected contact and her toes curled in her boots. Nayna resisted the urge to shove him off. Instead she let him steer her towards the infirmary.

“So,” he began and paused both in speech and movement. He watched her with the intensity of a starving man looking at a buffet. A completely different look than he’d been giving her just a moment earlier. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge as he dragged his calloused thumb back and forth at an achingly slow pace. She wished he would either stop or continue, though her mind was not so easily swayed.  “I figure we’re going to fucking be spending a lot of time together, seeing as how I need to keep my fucking eye on you. Make sure you’re not fucking me over or anything. How about we fucking get to know each other, doll?”

“I’d rather not,” Nayna said with a sniff.

“Too bad you don’t have a choice, sweetheart. Lucille here wants to fucking know all about you,” he said, a soft, malicious grin curving on his lips as he ran the very end of the bat down her leg.

She furrowed her brow up at him as she drew her leg away, causing her to stumble a bit. The hand at her neck kept her steady.

“Why don't you give me the fucking grand tour of this shithole?”

Nayna forgot to curb her temper. She forgot she was supposed to play nice. “Shithole? Fuck you.”

He went on unperturbed, chuckling at her indignity. “You know, because it's the hole where you're storing half my shit—shithole.”

“That's beyond unfunny. Worst joke I've ever heard in my life."

He shook his head as if his sense of humor was lost on her. “That's the fucking joke, doll.”

She shoved his hand off her and stepped back. “Look, I get you need to keep tabs on me to make sure I haven’t run away. I get you can’t take my word for it. Whatever. But you’ve seen me, I’m here and now I’m going to fuck off. Over there. Alone.”

With that she stuck her nose in the air and swiveled about. Behind her Negan started laughing, a great big belly laugh as she stomped down the road towards Daryl’s blue truck.

“Later, doll!”

As tempting as it was to flip him the bird, she didn’t want to push her luck. There was only so far she could push him before he flipped out. Truth be told, she wanted to put as much distance between her and Negan as possible. There was something more than his brutish nature that made her insides squirm. His wolfish smile? That knowing gaze? Whatever it was, she wanted no part of it.

Daryl stood in the bed of the blue pickup, his eyes following her until she reached the truck. She also felt Negan’s eyes boring a hole into her back, but she tried to ignore it. Daryl wiped the sweat from his forehead, however, all he managed to do was smear the dirt across his face. Their eyes met and she tossed her head. One of the things she loved most about Daryl was that he knew when to keep his mouth shut. She climbed up in the bed of the truck and sat on the tailgate with her legs dangling over the edge.

Without a word Daryl dropped a bottle of frigid water into her lap. Nayna took a long drag from the bottle and handed it back to him.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You wanted rabbits,”  he said, gesturing to the empty cages as he set the water bottle on the edge of the truck bed.

She smiled. “ I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Naw, that was Rick.”

She studied her fingernails. “Oh.”

“Y’all still fighting.”

He didn’t phrase it as a question which made Nayna glance up at him. She half-shrugged.

“You were right and he knows it. Both times. It’s hard being leader and admitting you’re wrong.”

Nayna swiped the back of her hand across her nose. “We’re lucky Negan accepted my deal. What would have happened otherwise?”

She was purposely ignoring Daryl’s mention of Rick. The last thing she wanted to talk about was Rick. He occupied enough of her mind…and heart.

Daryl shrugged and his eyes cut over to where Negan was talking to one of his men, laughing and slapping him on the shoulder. “A whole flying shitfest, that’s what.”

She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. “What am I supposed to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Negan. He said he wants to get to know me. He makes me feel…weird.”

Daryl’s brows knitted together in a heavy scowl. “You’re askin’ the wrong person Nayna.”

“It was more of a rhetorical question,” she said, blowing out a puff of air.

“I don’t know. Fuck him?”

She burst out laughing. “Daryl!”

“Everyone saw the way he looked at you.”

It was her turn for her to scowl at him. “The way he looked at me? Like he wanted to kill me?”

“Or fuck you. Or both.”

She rolled her chin side to side, allowing the dizzying effect to wash over her. “Ugh. Not you too.”

He snorted, much like an impatient horse. “Not me too, what?”

“Abraham and…Abraham was teasing me earlier saying I needed to get laid.”

Daryl couldn’t hide his smile. “If the condom fits…”

She stopped moving her head and squinted at Daryl. “You’re such a dickface.”

“The best way to a man’s heart is his dick.”

She wrinkled her nose, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. Not when her belly was a pit full of wriggling snakes.

Daryl shrugged. “Maybe he won’t be so inclined to kill you if you fuck him a couple times.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Great.. Just what I always wanted to be when I grew up. I don’t want this.”

He sighed. “You’re Nayna. I don’t think it matters what you want. Not to you at least. No, you’re going to do what you feel like you have to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Protect us. And if it means fucking Negan, you’ll do it. Because you can’t protect anyone when you’re dead.”

A crisp chill slithered in the pit of her stomach, settling atop the writhing snakes. She began to regret drinking all that water.

“Somethin’ else I’ve been meaning to say, though it’s not my place.”

“You’re talkative today,” she said, stretching her legs out again.

“Yeah, I’m Mr. Fucking Chatterbox. Look, it’s about Rick.”

She pressed her cheek to her shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

"Nayna…Everyone knows.”

The cold water coiled in her stomach, threatening to make a sinister reappearance. She suddenly felt like she had been thrust into a dark, deep tunnel. Daryl’s voice warbled and echoed in a far off place, stretching into long, unrecognizable syllables. Two words and her whole world came crashing down around her.

She didn’t know how long she’d been in love with Rick. Since before the prison. Definitely when Lori was still alive, which made the guilt in her heart only worsen. He’d never returned her feelings, so it had always been a moot point.

But everything she did, she did it for him.

She swiped the tears from her watery eyes. Her voice came out high pitched and fast. “It’s my own fault, really. I kept waiting for him to be ready to move on and then I wanted to wait until we got settled in Alexandria. And then Jesse came. After she died, I wanted to give him space. I did. Too much space.”

Daryl came and sat beside her. He placed one hesitating hand on her shoulder. She made a face at him and he dropped his hand, hurt.

After taking several deep breaths she finally glanced over at him. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“You need to let him go.”

“Why, so I can fuck Negan?”

“Nayna…”

She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut again. “Michonne. Does she know?”

“Yeah.”

A whimper bubbled past her lips. She felt a sense of betrayal on Michonne’s part, but Nayna couldn’t blame Michonne for loving Rick. It was only natural for her to love Rick because Nayna loved him and she loved Michonne too.

An aching loneliness pumped her heart and filled her body with dread. All her life she wanted to be loved. Now she never would. Nayna stared over her shoulder at Negan. She was a marked woman.

He looked up as if he’d felt her gaze and grinned, giving her a wink before turning back to his men with Lucille propped on his shoulder.