Negan awoke bright and early, momentarily surprised when he realized he wasn't alone in his bed. But when he recognized it was Cecelia, he relaxed again, glancing at her a moment. Slumber had erased the harsh scowl she usually wore on her face, and she looked a lot younger than he was used to.

But then he had to turn away. The IV's and needles poking into her arms, bandages littered across her body, and cast on her arm were all too familiar. When he first met her, she'd been underweight, like mostly anyone these days, but now she was waifish, he cheeks sunken and sallow, the color on her face all but 'd gotten used to seeing it after all the time he'd spent in hospitals, but seeing them on someone he cared about made it much more difficult.

He had to admit, he was getting a little too fucking soft for his own liking. A few days earlier when Cecelia basically admitted she felt like she served no purpose and had no one left had left him with a pang in his gut that didn't go away for awhile. He wasn't sure what it was about her that made her stick compared to everyone else. At first, he thought he was confusing his initial sexual attraction with some sort of strange attachment, but he realized pretty clearly now how fucked he really was.

So like with most intrusive thoughts, he pushed it aside to get ready for the day, careful not to wake her. The doctor had instructed that she needed ample sleep in order to recover, anyhow, and he had a lot of meetings to get to.

In the couple days since Cecelia had arrived at The Sanctuary, she'd made a surprisingly quick recovery. She still wasn't able to walk on her own, and could only drink Pedialyte and eat applesauce, but she was certainly doing better than when she'd been sprawled out in the back of a truck barely clinging to life.

Negan was surprised, as most of her spunk seemed to be gone, she spent her time flipping through a couple books and magazine he had in his bedroom, napping, or staring into space, a concerned look on her face, her hands folded neatly on her lap. When he spoke to her, she didn't really respond, just would give a short response before rolling over and sleeping some more. He couldn't tell if she was being rude or if she was just not feeling like herself.

Truthfully, he had bigger fish to fry, and so he quickly went about getting ready for his day and left the room, Cecelia not even stirring once.

When Cecelia awoke, she flexed her appendages one by one, registering the dull ache throughout her entire body that gradually was fading day after day. Negan was gone, as she expected, which was a bit of a relief. She needed some time to be human and alone.

But that didn't last long, because she was overcome with the sudden urge to pee. She'd been on an IV for days, drinking Pedialyte and lots of fluids, so she was surprised she didn't have to go much more often. The issue was….so far she had yet to walk on her own. There was no way for her to get a doctor, so she figured she'd try her hand at it herself - it was a new day right?

Big mistake. She wasn't sure if it was her weakness from being malnourished or the fact that she hadn't moved much, but either way, she ended up on her hands and knees next to the bed. Glancing to see if she could somehow get herself out of this situation, she saw movement underneath the crack of Negan's bedroom door.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice cracking from exertion. "Is someone out there?" she asked. "I need help."

She was able to push herself to at least sit up, and watched the door crack open slightly, a pretty blonde woman looking to be a little younger than her poking her head through the door, looking around cautiously. "What do you need?" the woman asked.

"I really need to pee," Cecelia said bluntly. "Can you help me to the bathroom?"

The girl cleared her throat. "Negan doesn't like it when we come into his room without permission."

"I don't see Negan anywhere around here, do you?" Cecelia cocked an eyebrow. This didn't seem to appease the woman, as she stood still, shifting her weight from one foot to another anxiously. "Listen, if he has a problem with it….I'll take the blame. I just really need help."

The woman reluctantly stepped forward. "So you're Cecelia, then?" she asked, approaching cautiously.

"Yeah," Cecelia answered, and she could hear the confusion in her own voice. "Why?"

The woman shook her head. "No reason in particular. He seems to be more patient with you than others, that's all. I'm Amber."

With her help, Cecelia was able to stand on wobbly legs, leaning heavily against her for support as they made their way into the restroom. "Thank you, Amber," she murmured softly. The woman's black cocktail dress didn't go unnoticed.

Cecelia relieved herself before hunching over the bathroom sink to rinse her face off and brush her teeth. A proper shower sounded intoxicating, but she still wasn't strong enough to stand on her own.

"So, you're one of Negan's wives then?" Cecelia gestured towards the black dress Amber wore.

"Uh, yeah," she looked down at her outfit. "Yeah, I am," she could nearly hear the shame in the woman's voice, but she dismissed it.

Cecelia got back into the bed, taking a sip from the juice glass that was sat next to her. It was lukewarm, but tasted refreshing. As Amber was backing away, however, Cecelia perked up.

"So….what do you do all day then? Do you get to go outside?"

Amber seemed startled by the question, but paused in place. "Not really, no. Sometimes, maybe. We read mostly, drink….play cards."

"Really?" Cecelia perked up. "Do you think I could play something with you all? I'm about to go mad sitting here reading this magazine for the 50th time."

"I don't know if that's a good idea…." Amber trailed off. "Like I said, he doesn't really like when we're in his room without permission."

"I'm sure it's not a big deal," Cecelia pressed. "Please? Just one game?" She was surprised at herself for hanging on to this human reaction, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to another woman this long, and sitting inside Negan's room all day was driving her crazy. She was accustomed to a much more active lifestyle, fending for herself.

Amber looked over her shoulder apprehensively. "I suppose so…"

About an hour later Cecelia found herself sitting cross legged on Negan's bed, two more of his wives, Sherry and Jess, had joined her and Amber, and Cecelia was teaching them to play Euchre. She wasn't really great at it herself, but Ari had taught her a while back and it was definitely more interesting than War or Go Fish.

"Yeah," Sherry sat down the right bower on top of the stack in the middle of them. "That's a game. Ten points, right?" she glanced over at Cecelia, who rolled her eyes.

"Yeah," she huffed. "Beginner's luck."

"Someone want to explain what the hell is going on here?" The three women surrounding Cecelia nearly lept back as Negan's voice cut into the otherwise quiet room. Cecelia stayed put, finding their reactions a little bit dramatic as they all lowered their heads.

He stood in the doorway, clad in his usual jeans and leather jacket, in one hand was Lucille, his beloved baseball bat. Cecelia still didn't understand his obsession with that thing. On his face was a stern expression.

"We're just playing Euchre," she said casually, collecting the cards in her hand and riffle shuffling them effortlessly. It was a trick she'd taught herself when she was bored as a kid.

"I'm pretty sure these women know better than to come into my room when I'm not around," he said flatly. He was clearly exhausted, judging by the look on his face.

"I mean, I don't see the issue, they were keeping me company."

Negan set his jaw, then, and she prepared for some sort of outburst. When he said nothing, simply jerked his head, the women filed out slowly as Negan shut the door behind them, remaining silent.

"You can yell at me now," she said flatly, settling back against the pillows. "Don't take it out on them, Amber helped me to the bathroom earlier and I was the one who asked them to come play cards." She absentmindedly continued to shuffle the deck.

"I'm not going to yell at you," he said flatly. "Actually the fact that you're giving me shit right now must mean you're feeling better."

"Somewhat," Cecelia said. "I still can't walk though, which is getting quite frustrating."

Negan's unreadable expression relaxed then as he smiled slightly. "It'll take some time."

"Anyways," Cecelia looked away absentmindedly. "How's your shit?"

"Shitty," Negan chuckled, then his face fell. "Your friends back at Alexandria are really a pain in the ass."

"They're not exactly people I'd want to fuck with," she said flatly. "How'd you get looped in with them, anyhow?"

"Tried to save them," Negan said. "They don't understand how it works though."

"Save?" Cecelia laughed bitterly, feeling some anger rise in her chest. "Are you so stupid you think that that's what you're doing to these communities? I mean, you're like parasites, sucking the life out of them. You run a dictatorship, you force everyone to bow down to you, you have absolutely no consideration for how things look from the opposite standpoint."

Negan's upper lip curled up, but she cut him off.

"And don't give me shit for telling the truth. You had to know, at some point, that you'd find someone who wasn't afraid to stand up to you. Did you really think you could just do this forever?"

"You ungrateful-" his grip tightened on Lucille.

"I already thanked you for what you did. But you're not going to scare me into shutting the fuck up because you know everything I'm saying is the truth. That's why I'm making you mad. Don't shoot the messenger," she shrugged. It was hard to speak such words when she was basically immobile and lying down, but she managed to be as confident as she could considering her circumstances.

She didn't raise her voice, didn't use a condescending tone. Yeah, she was angry. Not him, necessarily, but at everyone else, everything else she'd experienced. "I know you're too stubborn to listen to anything I'm saying. But I'm just speaking from the opposite side."

Negan didn't respond, just relaxed his grip on the baseball bat and set it on the ground. There was a long pause between them for awhile, somewhere between comfortable and uncomfortable silence.

"Lucille," he began. "Was my wife. Before all this. She died right before the outbreak. Cancer." He sat on the edge of the bed. "The reason I like you so much….you remind me of her."

Cecelia was uncomfortable that he was being so candid, especially after she'd just laid into him. She considered cracking a joke to ease the tension but something told her that wouldn't go over well. Instead, she settled on avoiding eye contact.

"I treated her like shit, and she put up with me. I don't understand why," he shook his head. "The difference between the two of you is you don't put up with my shit. You're the only goddamn person who isn't going to lie to me."

Cecelia tilted her head, finally looking at him as he moved closer to her. "You think you're special," she murmured. "But I've known plenty of men like you."

Cecelia thought of her father, who she rarely saw growing up. Yeah, he was a nice man, to her and her siblings, at least, but she'd never forgive him for how he treated her mother. However, she was pulled away from the memory when she felt Negan's hand on her chin, turning her head towards him.

"I couldn't figure out why I needed you so badly until now," he murmured. He was going to kiss her. Cecelia's body betrayed her as it usually did, her cheeks flushing and breath hitching as he leaned close to her. There wasn't any way out of this.

"David," she said flatly, a last ditch effort to distract him, to anger him before he acted. She knew deep down she wanted this, but that didn't make it okay.

Despite her efforts, all the name did was cause him to smirk slightly before he closed the gap between them, his lips surprisingly gentle yet firm upon hers. It was an affectionate kiss. Not a result of unbridled passion or pent up frustration. No, there was a fondness to it she hadn't experienced in years. It was then, she realized, they were both completely screwed.

Hey all, so I have some unfortunate news. I will be putting this story on hiatus until further notice. I had this chapter written up already so I thought I'd share it with you, as it was only fair.

I started out with so many great ideas and momentum to write for this, but the more I have written it and tried to carry it along with the direction of the show, the harder it has gotten.

The show has taken Negan in such an out-of-character, violent route, that I no longer even feel any sort of excitement or interest to write this story any longer. And I know in the comics he is far from being unproblematic, but the show has just been….too much. He is completely unlikeable and unredeemable in my opinion. Of course, I love JDM, he does a great job with what he's given, which says a lot about his acting abilities.

In general, I've been losing interest in the show for quite some time just because of the lazy writing, lack of character development and weak plot. They consistently kill off characters to further the plot of the men in the show….overall, I'm just incredibly disappointed with several of the choices they have made. Since they've left the prison I've basically just been watching to update these stories. But I can't find the motivation anymore.

I have enjoyed writing for this fandom and the love it's shown me. But for now it is time that I take a break and focus on other projects I am more passionate about. I have a Tumblr (from-the-clouds) that I am much more active on, and I have been taking requests for oneshots, writing mostly for the Dunkirk/Star Wars fandoms. I also have a Poe x OC fic on here I haven't updated in awhile that I will get back into writing soon, so I hope you'll follow me at those locations if that's something you are interested in. If not, I am truly sorry, you have no idea how much it pains me to leave this unfinished. Thank you for all your support.