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The morning had already settled into its usual monotony by the time Amy Larsson stepped into the waiting room. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the rows of empty chairs. It was a quiet shift at the hospital, the kind of day where time seemed to stretch on forever between patients. Amy’s back was sore from standing and moving, her nurse's shoes hardly the most comfortable, but she had grown used to it.At 5’6", Amy wasn’t tall, but her presence was solid. She had a little more curve than what was considered average, but she’d learned to embrace her figure. There was a softness to her that made her approachable—a softness that balanced out the firmness of her attitude when it came to her work. She had brown hair that fell in layers just past her shoulders, always pulled back into a loose bun.Amy was dressed in her usual uniform—scrubs in a soft teal, her colourful stethoscope looped around her neck. There was a quiet confidence in the way she carried herself, though she’d never be the one to stand out in a crowd. It was the kind of subtle self-assurance that came from years of practice, from knowing exactly what she was doing and doing it well.She scanned the room quickly, eyes landing on the clipboard with the patient list she was holding. A few names, all fairly routine. Then she saw his—Negan Smith. Knee injury. A gym teacher, according to the intake form.
"Negan Smith?" Amy’s voice was steady as she called out, stepping forward. The room was filled with the usual waiting room hum—the sound of pages turning, a few murmured conversations, and the occasional cough. But it all seemed to fade as she looked up and saw him sitting near the door, tall and broad. He was the kind of man who seemed to take up more space than his height would suggest. There was an ease in his posture, his movements, the way he didn’t quite stand still, but rather leaned into his surroundings. His black hair, slightly tousled, framed his face with just the right amount of effortlessness. Hazel eyes met hers as he smiled, and Amy felt a momentary flicker of something—something she couldn’t quite place. He was, undeniably, attractive. But it wasn’t just his looks that caught her attention. It was the confident, almost playful glint in his eyes, the way his lips curled upward on his clean shaven jaw as if he were always on the verge of saying something teasing."Right here." he replied with a grin that felt too easy. His voice was low, but there was something comforting about it—like it could easily make you laugh, even on the worst of days. Amy took a steadying breath and forced herself to focus. Just a patient, she reminded herself. Keep it professional.“Mr. Smith, I'm Dr Larsson. If you will follow me please.” She smiled. He followed her to the small treatment room, his long legs stretching to keep up with her, a slight limp visible as he moved. The space was cramped—just enough for a cot, a small counter with medical supplies, and a chair in the corner and her desk. Nothing fancy. But Amy had learned to make it work. She gestured to the cot for him to sit.Negan eased himself onto the edge, his body still radiating that causal energy. His eyes never quite left hers, and she felt a flicker of something in the air between them. It was odd how quickly it had shifted. Usually, Amy could keep things light and professional, but something about this man was… different. She shook the thought away.“So, what exactly happened to your knee?” she asked, flipping through the chart on her desk. She was a nurse, not a detective, but there was a part of her that liked to know the details. It helped her make the diagnosis and kept her mind occupied.
Negan shrugged.
“A kid came at me wrong during a game. One minute I’m coaching, the next thing I know, I’m feeling like my knee’s about to snap off.” He chuckled, though there was a hint of pain behind the joke. “Just one of those days.”
Amy looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly as she gathered her tools. She’d seen enough knee injuries to know that the real problem could be hidden behind a causal explanation.“We’ll get an X-ray to be sure, but from the sound of it, you might’ve torn something. Let’s take a look.”He gave her a mock salute, still grinning. “Aye aye, Nurse Larsson.” Amy rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t quite hide the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She had to admit, there was something about his attitude that made her forget how tired she was. As she stepped closer to him she also grabbed a pair of gloves from the mounted box on the wall, putting them on as she reached for his knee to check for swelling, her hands moving expertly but carefully. She could feel his eyes on her, and it was hard to ignore how intense his gaze was."Looks like some swelling, definitely. We’ll get the X-ray ordered, but I’ll have to press around a bit to get a better idea of where it’s most painful."His expression softened for a second, and for just a moment, Amy thought she saw a flicker of something genuine beneath his usual easy-going façade. But then the grin was back, more mischievous than before.“Don’t worry, Nurse. I’m tougher than I look.” he said, shifting slightly as she gently probed his knee. The touch was professional, but the heat of his skin under her fingers made her mind wander for just a second. She forced herself to snap out of it. Focus. He’s just a patient, she reminded herself, though the thought felt less convincing now."Alright." she said, stepping back, taking off her gloves and opening the bin with the foot pedal, placing them in . “You're all booked for that X-ray, let's get you to the waiting room.” Amy took her key card off her desk and paused to look at him. “You know what? I’m going to put you in a wheelchair just to be on the safe side. Don’t want you putting weight on that leg if it’s worse than we think.”Negan raised an eyebrow and gave her a wry smile. “Oh, I see. Guess I should feel special.” He said sarcastically.Amy smiled, she was pulling a wheelchair out from the corner of the room. She glanced back at him, trying to keep things professional, but there was something about his easy grin and the way he carried himself that made her feel a little more flustered than she cared to admit.“Just following protocol, Mr. Smith,” she said, stepping toward him and guiding the chair toward where he was standing. “Now, come on, take a seat. I’m not risking you making things worse just to look cool.”Negan gave her a mock-sulking look but complied. “Fine. You’ve got me cornered. I guess I’ll take the ride.”With a practiced ease, Amy helped him settle into the wheelchair, guiding his injured leg gently onto the footrest. As he adjusted, his smile never faltered, but there was a quiet undercurrent of something—gratefulness?—that she didn’t want to read too much into.“Comfortable?” she asked, positioning the wheelchair so it faced forward.“More comfortable than I thought I’d be in a wheelchair.” he admitted. She chuckled softly and gave him a gentle push.“If you’re lucky, I’ll get you to the X-ray room without any bumps along the way.”The two of them slowly made their way down the hallway. As Amy pushed him, she found herself hyper-aware of his presence—his broad shoulders leaning slightly back in the chair, his easy going demeanour filling the air between them. She tried to focus on the task ahead, but it was hard not to notice the way his hazel eyes twinkled every time he caught her looking at him.“So, Nurse Larsson,” he said, breaking the silence, “is this just part of the job? Pushing injured gym teachers around?”Amy tried to focus on the hallway ahead, but his voice had a way of pulling her in. “ Not all the time luckily, I’m pretty sure you’re one of many gym teachers I’ve had to wheel anywhere.” she answered, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
He leaned backward in the chair as much as he could, his dimples showing as he tilted his head back to look at her, smirking teasingly.“I thought I was the only one, honestly.”Amy shook her head, laughing softly despite herself. “Unfortunately, you’re not the only one.” The tension that had been building between them since their first encounter seemed to dissipate a little in that moment. Amy found herself at ease with his easy smile and light-hearted approach to the situation. Reaching the waiting room, Amy was shocked to see there were only 3 other patients there. One elderly man with a makeshift sling, A mother and son - the boy was holding his left hand which appeared that there splint on his middle and index finger, and a man and a woman who looked in their early 20’s - the man groaning ever so faintly as Amy panned up his face - a massive bruise spread across his eye and cheeks, a bandage over his nose. Damn rough day at the office, ey? Amy joked to herself. She wheeled Negan toward the front desk, taking a quick glance at the small group of patients. The elderly man looked like he was having a slow day, and the mother seemed to be soothing her son, giving Amy a moment to focus on her patient. She approached the desk, where a woman with short, curly hair greeted her with a smile.“Hey, just here for Negan Smith, for his X-ray.” Amy said as she filled in the paperwork.“Got it.” the receptionist replied, tapping a few keys on her computer. The soft clicking of the keyboard always seemed to calm Amy down, a rhythmic sound that made her feel like things were in control. “We’ll call him back in a minute. You can just have a seat over there for now.”Amy nodded, flashing the receptionist a quick smile before turning back to Negan. She wheeled him toward a slightly more open area of the room, parking his wheelchair next to a row of seats nearest the front.“We won’t be long.” Amy said, leaning down slightly so he could hear her without disturbing the other patients. Her tone was reassuring but light, trying to keep the mood casual.Negan gave her a lazy, crooked grin. "That’s what they all say.” he teased, looking around the room. “But you know what? I’m in no rush. As long as I’m still in one piece by the end of this, I’m good."Amy leaned against the side of the wheelchair, glancing over at the other patients. “Well, as long as you’re not in as bad shape as the guy over there," she said, nodding toward the young man with the bruised face. "I think you’ll make it through just fine."Negan followed her gaze and winced. “That looks like a real rough day,” he muttered. “guess I’m lucky I only got a bad knee, huh?”“Yeah, could’ve been worse,” Amy agreed, a soft laugh escaping her lips. She adjusted her scrub top, still standing next to him. “Though, don’t go thinking you’re invincible just yet. You're still gonna have to sit tight for a bit.”Negan raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Oh, I can sit tight all right. Just don’t be surprised when I charm the whole waiting room before we leave."Amy rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t suppress a smile. “I’m sure you’ll do just that, Mr. Smith. But for now, you get to relax.”Negan smiled, settling in the wheelchair with a slight wince as he adjusted his leg. “You drive a hard bargain, Nurse Larsson. But I’ll play along. No complaints from me.”
As they sat there in comfortable silence, Amy glanced at the other patients again, her thoughts drifting momentarily. A nurse’s job was often a delicate balance of managing patients, keeping calm, and providing reassurance. It wasn’t always easy, but there was something about today that felt different—something in the way Negan’s presence seemed to fill the room without any effort at all.The door to the back opened then, and the receptionist called out, “Negan Smith?”Negan gave Amy a quick smile before pushing himself upright with a slight groan. “Here we go.” he said, with that same easy-going charm. “Time to see what kind of trouble you’ve gotten me into, Nurse.”Amy gave him a quick nod. “Let’s see what’s going on with that knee of yours.”They reached the small, sterile X-ray room, and Amy pulled the wheelchair to the side before helping him out of it. She made sure to move carefully, supporting him as he shifted his weight. “We’ll get this over with quickly.” she said as the technician got situated, a friendly smile on her face.Negan grinned up at Amy as he stood, though he winced slightly when he put weight on his leg. Amy motioned for him to sit on the X-ray table. “You stay still for this, and we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”The X-ray tech quickly set up the machine and moved Negan’s leg into position, and before long, the images were ready. Amy stepped back into the room to view the results, her fingers working quickly over the keyboard to pull up the scans.
As the X-ray images appeared on the screen, Amy examined them carefully. There was no obvious break, which was a relief. A slight tear in the medial collateral ligament. No fractures, but still enough to warrant a good amount of rest and care.
Turning to Negan, she gave him a reassuring smile.“We are going to head back to my room, and I can show you your X-rays and get you a prescription.” Negan nodded, pushing himself off the table and back into the chair Amy had wheeled closer towards him. The ride back was practically the same as it was going, Negan’s constant banter and Amy attempting to keep herself professional. Unlocking her door with her key card, she put a stopper in the door to keep it from shutting as she dragged Negan into the room backwards, kicking the stopper out once he had gotten into the room fully. Amy quickly logged onto her computer, keys clacking and mouse gliding around her Star Wars mouse mat shaped like a stormtrooper helmet as she dug through her emails and files to find Negan's bits and bobs.“Won’t be a moment, just bear with me the computer system we are using is incredibly outdated.” She heard a slight chuckle behind her, she counted that as a win as not many people laugh at her attempt at jokes. Double clicking the email she had managed to find after about a minute of scavenging the depths of her computer system. Pulling up Negan’s X-Ray images she turned the screen to face him better.“You’re in luck. No broken bones, just a partial tear in the ligament. It’s not too serious, but you’ll need to take it easy for a bit.” She said pointing towards the areas that were injured with a pen she had found on her desk.
He let out a breath he’d probably been holding, a small chuckle escaping him. “No broken bones? Guess I can’t use the ‘I broke my knee’ excuse for taking the day off after all.”Amy smiled, standing up and pulling out a pair of gloves from the box mounted to the wall. “Since your knee is only a sprain, for the time being before I am going to put some medical tape around it. Can you try your best to hop up on the bed by yourself for me?”Negan raised an eyebrow at her, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hop? You mean, limp up there and try not to make it look like I’m about to collapse?”Amy couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head. “If you want to make it look dramatic, sure. But I’d rather not have you pass out on me. I will be here the entire time in case you need me.”With a theatrical groan, Negan carefully manoeuvred himself out of the wheelchair, using the armrest for balance. Amy noticed the slight wince on his face as he shifted his weight, but he was managing—barely."You're a real trooper," she said, her voice light, watching him struggle in a way that was oddly endearing.He paused just before the bed, his posture a little exaggerated as he leaned forward, pretending to grimace in pain. "I’m just trying to make sure you don’t think I’m faking it. Gotta keep that sympathy factor high, right?"Amy smirked, rolling her eyes. “Just get up there, or I’ll have you back in that wheelchair.”He sighed dramatically but finally managed to get himself settled on the bed, his injured leg extended carefully, the knee still looking a little swollen. "Okay, doc, what’s the magic cure?" he asked, looking up at her with a smirk.Amy adjusted her gloves, opening a cabinet that is opposite her desk, under was a small table top with a sink and counter space, even a container full of stickers for kids. Moving some things around she grabbed the medical tape. Turning around she moved toward him with a professional air. “I’ll start by applying the tape to keep things stable and reduce the swelling. It’ll help with some of the discomfort too.”She carefully started wrapping the tape around his knee, making sure to avoid too much pressure while still providing enough support. As she worked, she could feel his gaze on her, and it made her feel… unusually aware of him. Focus, Amy. Focus.
Negan broke the silence, his voice light.
“So, no broken bones, but you’re gonna have to put up with me for a few weeks. Not sure how you’re gonna manage, Doc.”Amy resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. "I think I can handle you for a few weeks. Besides, we’re just getting started with your recovery plan."As she finished taping his knee, she gave him a quick smile, making sure it looked reassuring. “This should help for now. But don’t push it.”Negan glanced down at the tape around his knee, nodding. “I’ll try not to be too much of a pain. But, no promises.”Amy raised an eyebrow, stepping back to check her work. She gave him a nod, her voice becoming a bit more business-like. “You should also make sure to ice it for the next 48 hours.”Negan gave her a half-smile, his dimples making another appearance. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Doc. Gotta make sure you’ve got all your bases covered with me.”“You can sit back in the wheelchair if you would prefer.” Amy took off her gloves, putting them in the trash, sitting back in her wheelie chair. He nodded at her, moving to sit back in the chair with a wince. Once he was settled he gave her what she has now labelled as his ‘signature wink’ . Amy smiled, turning back towards the computer and pulling up Negan's clinical notes and typing a new paragraph for the plan going forward.“You’re definitely going to need to rest and get some physical therapy. The gym will have to wait for a little while.”He nodded, giving her an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll try not to miss it too much.” He paused, looking at her with that signature grin. “Thanks, Nurse Larsson. I’ll take your advice... but only because it’s you telling me.”Amy rolled her eyes at his charm but couldn’t suppress the warm feeling that spread through her. “So, try to stay off the leg for at least 2 weeks, rest for the next few days. Hold off doing anything that is physically tasking as you could end up damaging it more.” Pausing to make sure he was keeping up with all the information she was telling him, she looked at him briefly, checking for signs of comprehension.Negan nodded, his expression serious but still with that hint of mischief in his eyes. “Got it. Rest, no gym class for a while... How tragic.” His grin was playful, but she could see he was listening.“So, Mr. Smith." Amy continued, leaning slightly closer to the desk, "I will prescribe you a simple painkiller, and I will schedule you for a follow-up check in a week's time. If the pain gets worse or the swelling doesn’t come down, then don’t wait for the appointment. Just come back here.” She made sure her tone remained professional, but she couldn't deny the way his gaze kept lingering on her.“Damn, that’s a lot of information all at once, Dr Larsson." Negan said, his voice light with a touch of humour. "So, would that appointment be with you?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, his dimples deepening with the grin that seemed to have a magnetic pull on her.Amy rolled her eyes, half-amused, half-exasperated. “I will print you off a copy of the plan for you to keep as a reminder. Yes, the appointment would be with me,” she said, her voice smooth but tinged with a quiet, underlying embarrassment that she hoped he didn’t notice.He nodded once slowly, his smirk never faltering, as if processing that he'd indeed be seeing her again. “Alright then, I guess I’m stuck with you for another round.”Amy barely held back a laugh, quickly pressing a few buttons on the computer. The printer buzzed to life, the sound of the machine filling the small room for a moment before it began to spit out the slightly warm paper. She took it and handed it to him, their fingers brushing just slightly. That brief touch made her pulse skip, and she quickly recoiled but subtlety, feeling her face heat up under the intensity of his gaze.
Bitch, get it together! she mentally scolded herself, quickly reaching a hand to the back of her neck in an attempt to cool down, her fingers lightly grazing her skin. Her pulse still racing, Amy cleared her throat and forced a professional tone back into her voice.
“So, I’ll see you in a week. You can pick up your prescription at your local pharmacy, I have already sent it through so it's ready when you are .” She turned away quickly, feeling embarrassed by the sudden wave of warmth rushing to her cheeks.Negan, however, seemed completely unfazed. He took the paper and gave her a long, considering look, his lips curving into a playful grin. “Guess I’ll see you soon then, Dr Larsson.”Amy’s face flamed even more, and she quickly walked around the desk to grab the chart, hoping the low light in the room would hide how flustered she felt. Her heart racing and her thoughts swirling as she tried to focus on the next step. Focus, focus, she told herself. But all she could hear was the soft sound of his chuckle echoing in her head. “Do you have someone who could drive you home? How did you get here?” Amy asked as she got up noticing him putting his jacket back on.“One of the teachers at my school drove me here, I don't know if that ass has waited for me or not.” Amelia let out a small giggle. What is wrong with me?!? Amy thought did i just fucking giggle? She dragged a hand over her mouth attempting to centre herself.Amy let out a small sigh, trying to regain her focus. "Well, in that case, can you give your co-worker a call and let them know you're ready to go? I’m sure they’re waiting for you outside."Negan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the suggestion. “You just want me to call him so you can make sure I don’t get into any more trouble, don’t you?”Amy shot him a look, her voice deadpan. “No, I just want to make sure you don’t end up limping around the parking lot looking for a ride.”With a teasing grin, Negan pulled out his phone and dialled the number, leaning back against the wheelchair as he waited for the call to connect. Amy busied herself with tidying up the room, trying not to let the steady rhythm of his voice distract her.
A few moments later, Negan’s grin grew even wider. “Yeah, he’s been waiting out there the whole time. Guess I’m just lucky like that.” He hung up the phone and gave Amy a nod. “He’s out in the parking lot, but I can’t exactly walk myself out there right now, huh?”Amy let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “No, you definitely can’t. Let’s get you out to his car. I’ll wheel you there.”Negan raised a teasing eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re up for pushing me all the way to the parking lot, Doc? I mean, I don’t want to be too much trouble.”Amy didn’t miss a beat, her voice light but firm. “You’re fine. Just stay in the chair and keep your leg elevated, alright?”Wheeling him out of the exam room, past the nurses' station, and out through the double doors into the quiet hallway. The faint hum of the hospital’s air conditioning was the only sound as she pushed him toward the front exit.
When they reached the sliding glass doors, she glanced outside, spotting a car near the curb with a tall figure leaning against it. Negan’s co-worker—he was clearly a teacher, judging by the way he was dressed—looked up as they approached.“There you go,” Amy said, bringing the wheelchair to a stop beside the car. “Looks like he was waiting for you after all.”Negan looked up at the man, giving him a quick wave. “Hey, appreciate you waiting for me. I’m sure I was such a joy to have around, huh?”The teacher laughed, giving Negan a once-over. “No problem, man. Are you good to go? Looks like you’ve been through the ringer.”“Yeah, just a sprained knee,” Negan replied, adjusting himself in the chair. “Doc here says I have to be a good boy for the next few weeks. Shouldn’t be a problem, right?”Amy smiled softly, despite herself. “Don’t make me regret telling you that. Take care of your knee, Mr. Smith, or I’ll see you back here sooner than you think.”Negan gave her a playful wink. “I’ll try to be good, Doc, but no promises. Alright, I’ll catch you later.” He turned back to his co-worker, who was now holding the passenger door open.Amy watched as Negan was carefully helped into the car, his injured leg propped up. She felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment as she watched them drive off, the image of his easy smile lingering in her mind longer than she wanted.
Focus, Amy, she reminded herself. She had a job to do.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The sun had barely risen over the horizon when Amy awoke, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She sat up in her makeshift bed, a worn sleeping bag spread across the backseat of an abandoned car. The silence was deafening.Amy’s hands trembled slightly as she reached for her backpack, packing away her sleeping bag and pulling out a black flask. Shaking it, it was apparent she needed to find a water source and fast. Sliding it back into the pocket at the side of the backpack, she fished around the main compartment for some source of nutrients, her hand brushed a wrapper. Grabbing the protein bar, she quickly scoffed it down. Now slightly rejuvenated Amy tugged on her bag, pulling the straps to secure it on her shoulders. Her hunting knife now found a place in her hand, no longer adhered to her thigh.With a deep breath, she emerged from the car, her hand instinctively gripping the handle of her knife. The world around her was a far cry from the bustling hospital corridors she once knew. Now, overgrown grass and debris littered the streets, and the only sounds were the occasional groan of the undead in the distance.Amy’s first task of the day was scavenging. She moved silently through the abandoned buildings, her eyes constantly scanning for threats. In a dilapidated pharmacy, she found a few bottles of painkillers and some bandages - a good haul in this new world.
Finding her way back to a main road, surrounded by dense forest and god knows.Amy decided to try to find a stream, to finally replenish her water source. As she navigated through the forest, her ears perked as the sound of familiar groaning filled her ears. She prepared herself for the worst, turning around three walkers filled her vision. Twirling the knife in her hand she walked up to the closest one- a man who was now a viciously deformed creature. Plunging the knife into its skull, a spray of blood fell on her face. It fell right in front of her, Amy quickly moved on, putting the other two out of their misery.Amy - now out of breath, used her sleeve to wipe off some of the blood covering her face. Since the world fell, she has been forced to wear what she could find or conjure up. Today (or for the past couple months, she thinks) she donned a off the shoulder, ratty, brown knitted jumper, underneath a once white tank top, the pair of black undergarments, a pair of khaki shorts that she scavenged were a size too small and to top it off a pair of worn combat boots. On the occasion- which included today, she wore a faded baseball cap.A twig snapped behind her, prepared to see more of those vile creatures but was surprised to see a man. Pale skin which was extremely clean, light brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a blue coat and a flannel. Amy rose her knife into a fighting stance when the strange man spoke up. “Hi, I'm Aaron.” He said Amy assessed the situation, he looked non-threatening and seemed genuine and there wasn't any sign of others yet.“What do you want?” Amy was still cautious, her defensiveness showing through her actions.
“I have been following you for a while, yea I know that sounds creepy. But I promise I am not going to hurt you.” Aarons hands remained in the air as Amys slowly lowered. Following me?“What do you want? If you want food I ain't got any. Want ammo? Guns? Don't have any either. No group or settlement. So do with that what you will.” Amy listed, hoping it will get this guy off her back.“Well, I have been following you because we think you will be a valuable asset to our community. It's walled and we have shelter.” Shelter? Ooo the things I would do for a proper bed.“Why me? There are probably hundreds of bigger groups, ones who might be more valuable to you than me.” Amy inquired.“Well, when me and another member of our community were out scavenging for other communities, we saw you stitching up your leg with a needle and thread. From the looks of it, it seems that you knew what you were doing.” Aaron pointed to her scarred leg making her feel slightly self conscious.“Yea well, too fucking right I knew what i was doing, I am- well was a nurse.” Amy said slightly annoyed that he thought she was just making it up as she went, those medical school bills thankfully don't haunt her anymore.Aaron chuckled lightly then shifted on his feet. “Our community is called Alexandria and we could use someone with your skills. We’ve got a doctor, but she’s not quite as resourceful as you seem to be. You’d have a real bed, hot meals, and a place where you can rest without worrying about walkers or starvation.”Amy hesitated, her gaze flickering over the man in front of her. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then again, people were unpredictable. Still, the mention of a real bed, a roof over her head, and the chance to finally take a break from the constant fight for survival made her stomach churn with longing."Alexandria, huh?" Amy echoed, testing the name. "And what's the catch? You sure your people would just let me in?"Aaron’s expression softened, sensing her doubt. "No catch. We’re not like those raiders or bands of assholes you might have encountered. Alexandria is a place for rebuilding, not just surviving. We try to keep things as normal as possible."She raised an eyebrow at that, her hands still tightly gripping the knife. "Normal? What does that even mean anymore? You can't just go back to how things were."Aaron looked down briefly, as if collecting his thoughts, before meeting her eyes again. "I know. But we’re trying. That’s all we can do, right? Trying to make this world better for the people who are left."Amy chewed on the inside of her cheek, considering his offer. She could refuse, keep moving on her own, and risk running into more walkers, more people who might not be as... kind as this Aaron seemed to be. Or she could take the chance, join whatever small semblance of society Alexandria might offer, and hope that it wasn't another dead end."Fine," she finally said, her voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling in her gut. "I’ll go with you. But I’m not making any promises. I need to see for myself what this place is about before I do anything."A grateful smile broke across Aaron’s face, his posture relaxing. “That’s all I’m asking. I think you’ll like it there.”Amy nodded once, then turned back toward the path leading deeper into the forest. She kept her knife close, ready for whatever came next.The two of them walked side by side in silence, the crunch of their footsteps the only sound in the otherwise quiet woods. As they came to a clearing, a car was parked on the side of the road. Aaron approached the driver's side.“Hold on sugar plum, this car works?” Amy squealed slightly, the sight of a running car made her happier than she’s been in a while.“Yea, we got it running a while back. Found a gas station for the fuel.” He unlocked the car and sat down in the driver’s seat, motioning for Amy to get in. Amy hesitated for a moment, but the idea of not having to walk for miles sounded too good to pass up.She climbed into the passenger side, grateful for the shelter it provided from the humidity, though the seats still smelled faintly of mould and stale air. The engine sputtered to life as Aaron turned the key, and the car rolled smoothly onto the cement road.“Pretty sweet ride for the end of the world,” Amy remarked dryly, looking out the window as the landscape rushed past. She could feel a sense of trepidation settling in her chest, though she didn’t know if it was from the unknown that lay ahead or the strange comfort she felt in the vehicle. Both were equally unsettling.Aaron chuckled, his fingers gripping the wheel. “You’d be surprised what you can find. People used to leave all sorts of things behind when they panicked. But I guess we’ve learned to make use of whatever we can.”Amy didn’t respond right away. Instead, her mind began wandering. Alexandria—what could it really be like? Was it another false hope, a shiny illusion that would crumble like everything else? Or was it the real deal, a place that could actually provide some semblance of normalcy? She glanced at Aaron, who seemed genuinely at ease despite the world they now lived in. His calmness made her wonder if maybe there was something worth fighting for again.The car bumped over a rocky patch of road, pulling Amy out of her thoughts. She looked at Aaron again, her eyes narrowing slightly. “How long have you been with this group? And how big is it, exactly?”Aaron let out a sigh, his eyes on the road ahead. “I’ve been with them for about a year. We’ve got maybe thirty people at the moment—some families, some single survivors like me. We all pitch in, keep things running. Not exactly a paradise, but it’s stable. For now.”“Stable…” Amy repeated, testing the word. She was tired of hearing it used as a selling point for broken systems. The world had taught her the hard way that stability was a fragile thing, one gust away from blowing apart.“So, you’re a medic?” Aaron continued, trying to keep the conversation going, his voice lighter than before. “If you’re anything like you were in the old world, you’d be a damn asset to have around.”Amy felt her cheeks flush slightly, though she masked it quickly. “I’m not a real doctor. I just patched people up when I could. But yeah, I can help with that. If they’ll let me.”Aaron smiled, eyes twinkling with a hint of warmth. “I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you. We could use someone who knows their way around a bandage as much as we do a rifle.”The car rumbled on, and the silence between them stretched comfortably. Amy couldn’t help but relax, just a little, her shoulders easing as they drew closer to Alexandria—or whatever this community turned out to be. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to sleep in a real bed.——————————————————————————————
The car slowed as they neared a checkpoint, a crude but sturdy-looking wooden gate flanked by two men armed with rifles. One of them raised a hand to signal Aaron to stop, his face expressionless.“We’ve got a guest, Kyle,” Aaron called out, leaning out the window as he pulled the car to a halt.Kyle, a broad-shouldered man with scruffy brown hair, looked at Amy with an unreadable expression. He didn’t say anything immediately, just nodded toward the gate as he turned to his companion.“Take it easy,” Aaron added, giving Amy a side glance. “They’re just… cautious with newcomers. Sometimes it’s a bit much, but they’re protecting everyone inside.”Amy nodded but didn’t speak. Her eyes were fixed on the gate, her pulse quickening. She couldn’t help but wonder what awaited her behind those walls. Would it be the start of something new, or just another dead-end that would leave her stranded again?
As the gate slowly creaked open, allowing them through, Amy swallowed hard. The unknown loomed ahead, but for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself the smallest flicker of hope.The gate creaked open slowly, revealing a wide, well-maintained street lined with modest homes and makeshift gardens. People moved between buildings, some carrying bags, others chopping wood or tending to small fires. The air felt warmer here, the atmosphere quieter and more deliberate than anything Amy had encountered in months. For a moment, she almost forgot the weight of the knife in her hand, the sharp awareness of her surroundings. Here, it felt… different.Aaron guided the car down the narrow road, the vehicle’s tires kicking up dust as they passed a group of children playing in the yard of one of the homes. Amy’s gaze followed them for a moment, noting their carefree laughter and the way their parents watched from nearby. It was a sight so foreign, it nearly made her heart ache.“We’ve been able to keep things together for the most part,” Aaron said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “We’ve got a decent farming operation going, a few hunting parties, and we trade with nearby groups when we can. It’s not perfect, but it’s something.”Amy didn’t respond right away, her mind still processing the image of normalcy around her. The street led them toward the centre of the community, where a larger building stood—seemingly the hub of Alexandria. It was a fortified structure, with high walls and a few armed guards stationed near the entrance. People moved in and out, and Amy could see a small group of them huddled around a firepit, chatting quietly.Aaron parked the car in front of the building, his fingers briefly tapping on the steering wheel. “This is the main hall,” he said as he turned to Amy. “It’s where we meet for group discussions, share news, or make decisions.”Amy nodded, her eyes scanning the area. It felt… safe, almost too safe. She wasn’t used to this, to a place that looked like it was actually thriving.As they stepped out of the car, Aaron led her toward the building’s large wooden doors. The moment they crossed the threshold, Amy was hit with a wave of warmth and the smells of cooking food. A few people turned to glance at them—some nodded, others went about their tasks—but most of the attention seemed to be focused on a small group gathered near a bulletin board, discussing something in low tones.“Welcome to the heart of Alexandria,” Aaron said with a small grin. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the folks in charge.”They walked deeper into the building, passing through a hall lined with simple, but neatly organized supplies—shelves full of canned goods, blankets, and tools. At the far end of the room was a door leading into a larger office-like space. Inside, a middle-aged woman with sharp features sat on a worn couch, writing something down. She looked up as Aaron and Amy entered, her expression neutral but not unfriendly.“Amy, this is Deanna,” Aaron said. “She’s the leader of Alexandria.”Deanna stood up and extended a hand, her posture calm but authoritative. “It’s nice to meet you, Amy,” she said, her voice firm yet warm. “Aaron’s told us a bit about you, and I’m glad you’ve agreed to come. We could use someone with your skills.”
Amy shook her hand, her gaze flicking over Deanna’s face, trying to read her. There was a quiet confidence about the woman that Amy couldn’t help but respect. She didn’t look like someone who would tolerate nonsense, which was a point in her favour. Still, Amy remained guarded. Words were easy, but actions told the truth.“I will be back to give you a tour.” Aaron said, smiling softly at her. Amy nodded.Amy sat across from Deanna, the room feeling suddenly smaller, the air thicker. The camera, with its heavy lens staring at her from the corner, made her feel exposed. Deanna, calm and collected sitting on the couch opposite her, wasn’t the first person to ask questions like these. But for some reason, this time felt different.“Is the camera really necessary?” Amy asked, annoyed she will have to be on camera in such a state.“Just for me to look back on.” Deanna’s response was short, flooding Amy’s head with questions, she decided against speaking and that a nod would suffice.Deanna studied her for a long moment before speaking again, her tone measured. “I want to understand who you are, Amy. It’s important. This community requires trust and trust is built on knowing the people we let in. Your skills are obvious, but I need to know more about you. Your past. You’ve been alone for a long time, haven’t you?”Amy stiffened, the words hitting her like a punch to the gut. She didn’t speak at first, her jaw tight. Her hands were balling into fists in her lap. She could feel Deanna’s eyes on her, probing.“Yes,” Amy finally said, her voice sharp. “Been alone for a while. And I’m fine with that.”Deanna raised an eyebrow. “Fine? Or resigned?”Amy’s lips pressed together in a thin line. There it was again—another question that felt like an accusation. Resigned. As if she had given up. She hated that word. Resigned wasn’t what she was. She was a survivor…at least that's what she wanted people to think.“I don’t need anyone,” Amy said, her voice low, but with an edge to it. “I’ve managed. Just like everyone else.”Deanna didn’t flinch. She just watched her, silent for a moment, letting Amy’s defensiveness build.“What about before?” Deanna asked gently, but with a firm curiosity. “Before everything changed. Were you close to anyone?”The question made Amy’s breath catch. Her eyes flitted toward the camera, almost as if she could block it out by not looking at it. Before. That word again.“Look, I don’t see the point in digging up the past,” Amy shot back, her voice rising slightly, betraying her unease. “I’m not interested in talking about it. What matters is what I can do now.”Deanna didn’t back down. Her gaze remained steady, unyielding. “The past shapes us, Amy. It doesn’t define us, but it informs the way we move forward. I need to understand that. What was your life like before the outbreak?”Amy’s eyes flicked to the door, as if contemplating a sudden escape. But there was nowhere to go. Deanna’s questions were like an invisible rope, tightening around her chest, pulling her deeper into the muck she’d spent so long trying to forget.“I told you, I was a nurse,” Amy said quickly, her voice tighter now, defensive. “I worked in an urgent care centre. People came in—sick, hurt. It was… busy. That’s what my life was. Busy.”Deanna’s gaze softened, but there was still an unspoken insistence there. “Was it just work, Amy? Or were there people you were close to? Friends? Family?”Amy’s heart thudded harder, a familiar ache creeping into her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to suppress the memories that clawed at the surface. Her sister. The phone call. The sound of her mother crying on the other end of the line
.
“I don’t have family anymore,” Amy said, her voice almost brittle. “They’re all gone. And I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it.”Deanna leaned forward, her tone steady and unrelenting. “I understand the pain, Amy. Believe me, I do. I’ve lost people too. But this community is about rebuilding. And part of rebuilding means coming to terms with the things we’ve lost. It’s the only way we can move forward. Otherwise, we stay stuck in the past.”Amy’s breath quickened, and her pulse thudded in her ears. “You think you’re the only one who’s lost people?” she shot back, her voice tight with anger now. “I’ve buried more people than I care to remember. I’ve watched people die—suffocate, bleed out, scream for help. And no one was there to save them. So don’t sit there and tell me what I should be doing with my grief.”Deanna didn’t flinch. She didn’t back down. She just continued to meet Amy’s eyes with a steady, almost knowing gaze. “I’m not telling you what to do, Amy. I’m simply trying to understand. The things we go through—those experiences—they shape us. They inform how we react to things, how we relate to others. You’ve spent a long time surviving alone. That’s understandable. But you’re not alone anymore. You’re here now. And I need to know if you’re willing to accept that.”Amy stood suddenly. She walked to the window, her fists clenched at her sides, staring out into the distance. She hated this. Hated the feeling of vulnerability, of being pulled apart and examined like she was some kind of specimen.“You don’t get it,” Amy muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get what it’s like to watch everyone you love die. To lose everything and still have to keep going. I’m not… I’m not ready to let people back in. I can’t.”Deanna remained silent for a long time, letting the room settle with the tension of Amy’s words. Finally, she spoke, her voice calm but unyielding. “I don’t need you to be ready. I don’t expect you to let people in right away. But this is a place for those who want to try. Alexandria isn’t perfect, but we’re trying to make something better. If you want to be part of that, you need to be willing to take the first step. And that might mean facing what’s left of your past.”Amy didn’t answer right away. She stood at the window, her back to Deanna, her hands still shaking. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold onto this façade of strength. The world had already broken her once. She couldn’t afford to let it happen again. But Deanna’s words lingered in her mind, heavy and persistent. This is a place for those who want to try. Amy wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. But she had to admit, the idea of trying—just a little—was something she hadn’t allowed herself to consider in a long time.Finally, Amy turned back around, her jaw tight and her eyes hard. “I’ll think about it,” she said, her voice cold, though not as defensive. “But don’t expect me to change overnight. I’m not… that kind of person.”Deanna nodded, her gaze softening just a little. “That’s all I ask. Take your time.”Amy didn’t speak again. She just turned and left the office, the door clicking shut behind her with a quiet finality. As she stepped out into the hall, she exhaled slowly, letting the weight of the conversation settle. Turning a corner she almost bumped right into Aaron“You okay?” Aaron said, turning to her with a small, reassuring smile. “Since you're here now I’ll give you a proper tour. Show you where you’ll be working, where you’ll be staying. All that good stuff.”Amy nodded, still feeling like an outsider in this strange, quiet haven. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, trying to soak it all in, trying to figure out where she fit into this place. Aaron led her down a cobblestone path, passing people outside working in gardens, talking in small groups, or simply going about their business as if everything were… normal. They reached a modest but well-maintained building. Aaron pushed open the door, and Amy stepped inside.“This is where you’ll be working,” he said, holding the door open for her. Inside, the smell of antiseptic was still faint, but it was there—comforting, even in this new world. It felt familiar. There were small exam beds, a desk in the corner piled with papers, and a few shelves stocked with supplies. The walls were lined with various medical instruments, and there was a steady hum of activity in the air.“You’ll be working with Denise,” Aaron continued, motioning toward a woman with blonde, wavy hair who was sorting through some medical supplies in the back of the room. “She’s our primary doctor here, but she could use someone with more hands-on experience—someone who knows what they’re doing under pressure.”Amy’s gaze shifted to Denise, who looked up and offered a friendly smile. “Welcome to Alexandria,” she said, extending a hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”“Thanks,” Amy said, shaking her hand.Denise nodded approvingly. “We’re a little short-staffed, so it’s great to have you.”After a moment of standing in the small medical room, Aaron turned and led her out, continuing the tour. They passed a few other buildings and small homes, all neat and well-kept, and eventually found themselves in a central area where people were gathered, talking, working on small projects.“A lot of people like to hang out here,” Aaron explained. “Common area, where folks can eat, relax, or just take a break. We’ve got some kids here now, too, but it’s mostly adults for now.”She couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong here. She’d never been one to be part of a ‘community.’ Always a lone wolf, always the one to stand apart. The tour continued, and Aaron eventually took her to a modest two-story house. It was smaller than the homes she’d seen earlier, but it looked cosy—nothing too fancy, just practical.“This is where you’ll be staying,” Aaron said, opening the door. Inside, the walls were painted a soft cream, and the furniture was simple but comfortable. There were two small bedrooms upstairs, each furnished with a bed, a dresser, and a desk. Walking up the stairs Amy was so close to hugging this man, she made a mental note to thank every deity she could before she went to bed.“This is your room,” he said, pointing to a room just on the left of the staircase. “Luckily you will have this house to yourself for now.”Amy’s heart skipped a beat. My own house? Holy crap these people must be really desperate. Amy nodded, though she felt a pang of uncertainty. Aaron stepped back to allow Amy into the room. The bed looked comfortable. And there was a desk and a chair tucked into the corner of the room. It was so normal—so far removed from the world she had known for so long. Amy stood in the middle of the room for a moment, taking it all in. She felt out of place here, like an intruder who hadn’t earned the right to rest, to feel safe.“I will let you get settled. Feel free to have a shower, unpack your things. I will bring you a set of clean clothes later.” Aaron smiled, Amy couldn't even turn around, her hands covering her mouth in shock still, so she just nodded. When Aaron left her, Amy let herself lean back, closing her eyes as the weight of the day finally caught up with her.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Amy glanced at the clock, tapping her pen against the desk. She knew exactly what time it was—Negan Smith’s follow-up appointment was due. She’d seen him once before, and she wasn’t sure if she was looking forward to the second round or dreading it. He had that effect on her, even though she’d only treated him for a minor injury.Sighing, she stood up, pushing away the stack of files in front of her. She had no choice but to face him again. As she stepped into the waiting room, her eyes immediately found him. Leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, Negan was practically a magnet for attention. His usual cocky grin stretched across his face when he spotted her. “I was wondering when you'd show up,” he said, voice rich with amusement. "I was starting to think you forgot about me. You know, I’ve been sitting here for a whole five minutes without a word from you. Thought I might have to start getting worried."She forced herself not to roll her eyes. "Come on, Smith. Let’s get this over with."Using her keycard to open the double doors leading to her room, holding the door open for Negan to walk through. Noticing his limp has gotten ever so slightly better, she couldn't help but feel the pulse of tension between them. She’d seen plenty of patients, but there was something about Negan that made everything seem just a little… different. She had to admit, it wasn’t just his knee that was keeping her occupied.The way he moved, the way he spoke, even the casual smirk that played on his lips—it all made her feel like she was caught in his orbit. She had to keep it professional. She should keep it professional. He was just another patient, after all.But as they walked into the exam room, she noticed how his presence filled the space, how his scent seemed to linger just a little longer than it should. He was clearly aware of the effect he had on her, Amy shook her head slightly, forcing herself back into her role as a nurse. She could do this. She had to do this. But as Negan settled onto the exam table with a lazy grin, she felt the familiar tension knot in her stomach once again.Clearing her throat she spoke. “So, how has your knee been treating you? You been keeping to the plan?”.The appointment went by in a blur. Their usual banter flowed easily, but there was an underlying tension between them that she couldn’t ignore. And then, as casually as if it were no big deal, Negan asked if she'd like to grab a coffee sometime—outside of the clinic.She hadn’t planned on agreeing, but before she knew it, she was saying yes, caught up in the moment.——————————————————————————————
Amy stood in front of her bathroom mirror, carefully slipping into her navy blue polka dot dress, the fitted bodice and flared skirt giving her a playful yet classic silhouette. The dress featured charming double straps that added a touch of elegance to her look. Over the dress, she pulled on a cosy navy cardigan, its soft knit fabric perfect for staying warm on a cool evening. Her brunette hair was swept back into a loose ponytail.Moving out of her ensuite bathroom into her bedroom. The room was a vibrant explosion of personality and charm, bathed in warm, golden light streaming through patterned curtains adorned with whimsical designs. The walls were alive with eclectic decorations—posters, artwork, and a colourful cuckoo clock that seemed frozen mid-tick. A cosy wooden bed dominated one side of the room, dressed with a patchwork quilt in cheerful hues of red, yellow, and green, layered with textured pillows. Beside the bed, a retro nightstand held a small lamp with a warm glow and an assortment of knick-knacks.A compact wooden dresser stood against the wall, topped with vintage trinkets and a tall, tapered lamp. The floor was covered in a deep red rug, softening the space and adding a splash of bold colour. Near the bed, a small cluttered vanity. The oval mirror adorned in fairy lights and polaroid photos of her and friends. Pulling out her chair from under the desk, cloaked in an old rainbow knitted blanket and a smiling sunshine pillow for back support.Moving an old can of fizzy drink out of her way, Amy reached across her desk to grab a pair of DIY button earrings she had crafted not too long ago from buttons salvaged off an old shirt she didn’t like. As she put them on, she mulled over her makeup options: natural might make it seem like she wasn’t trying, but too much could come across as trying too hard. Finally, she decided on a natural look.Starting with concealer, she dabbed it under her eyes to cover dark circles and dotted it over the occasional red spots on her face. Letting it set for a moment, she swept on a thin layer of brown eyeshadow, blending it carefully to maintain a soft, polished effect. Double-checking her concealer to ensure it was seamless, she dabbed a small amount of blush onto the apples of her cheeks, smiling widely as she did. She knew she likely wouldn’t need the powdered rouge when around Negan—it had a way of showing up naturally with him.Finally, she added a thick coat of mascara to both her top and bottom lashes, curling the top ones beforehand to make her eyes pop. To complete the look, she applied a browny-red lipstick, sealing her smile with the warm, confident hue.Satisfied with her reflection, Amy grabbed her shoulder bag from the end of her bed, tossing the lipstick inside for touch-ups later. She stepped out of her bedroom and into the living room, which was attached to the kitchen. A small corridor separated the two spaces, and from the kitchen, there was a clear view of the living room.Unlike her chaotic bedroom, Amy’s living room had a cosy, welcoming vibe. Against one wall sat a mustard-coloured sofa, complemented by a rustic dark oak coffee table scattered with fashion magazines and an old coffee cup resting on a wooden coaster. A dark red rug—similar to the one in her bedroom—anchored the space, while an ancient TV that looked like it had seen better days perched on a console opposite the couch, flanked by a few thriving potted plants.Behind the sofa hung a framed painting of a Lord of the Rings scene, a subtle nod to her love of fantasy worlds. On the wall behind the TV, vinyl records were displayed proudly, most of them by PJ Harvey. The centrepiece was Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea, an album she never grew tired of.Walking into her kitchen, Amy grabbed a cherry-flavoured energy drink from the fridge. Just outside the kitchen stood her racks of shoes, a colourful collection of various styles. The shelves were mostly filled with fun, vibrant heels, but the top rack held her practical work shoes. For tonight, she chose her slouchy brown suede boots, their relaxed style adding a touch of casual charm to her outfit.She paused at the mirror hanging on the back of her apartment door, checking over her outfit one last time. Nodding to herself with a small smile, she glanced at her phone. “Forty minutes. I’ve got enough time,” she said softly. Grabbing her keys from a hook in the hallway, she stepped out of her apartment, locking the door behind her.In the elevator ride down to the parking garage, she let her thoughts wander. Ideas for conversation started forming in her mind. What’s teaching high school like? What’s your favourite movie? Cats or dogs? The familiar ding of the elevator arriving at the ground floor interrupted her musings, snapping her back to the present.Walking to her parking spot, she spotted her car: a deep red vintage Volkswagen Beetle. Quirky and timeless, the car was a labour of love she’d repaired countless times. Unlocking it with the key, she climbed in, moving an old McDonald’s cup out of the wire cup holder near her feet to make space for the energy drink. She set her bag down on the passenger seat and closed the door, the sunflower air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror swaying gently with the motion.Amy started the engine, the familiar hum of the Beetle bringing a small sense of comfort. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, syncing with the rhythm of ‘Sunrise’ By Norah Jones softly playing through the car’s old speaker system. Shifting into gear, she backed out of her parking spot and made her way out of the garage, the cool evening air brushing against her as she rolled the window down slightly.The streets were alive with the buzz of city life—cars rushing past, pedestrians laughing, and neon signs flickering in shop windows. The drive gave her a little time to relax, though her mind occasionally drifted to the date. What if I run out of things to say? she thought, biting her lip. But she quickly shook the thought away, reminding herself that she was always good at finding common ground.As she reached a stoplight, her phone buzzed in her bag. Quickly fishing it out she gave it a quick glance and revealed a message from her best friend: good luck tonight! you’ve got this! love ya <3 Amy grinned and let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She felt her nerves settle just a little—her best friend always knew what to say.When she finally arrived at the café, Amy parked her Beetle in a spot tucked under a streetlamp. She checked her reflection in the rear-view mirror, smoothing out a stray strand of hair and giving her lipstick a quick touch-up. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she stepped out of the car, locking it behind her.The café was warm and inviting, with soft golden light spilling out onto the sidewalk through large windows. She could see a few patrons inside, chatting and sipping drinks, and her heart fluttered when she spotted him sitting at a corner table. Negan looked relaxed, leaning slightly on the table with a cup of coffee in front of him.Amy took a deep breath and walked toward the entrance, the sound of the doorbell chiming as she pushed it open. He noticed her immediately, standing up with a smile that made her stomach flip.“You made it,” he said, his voice smooth, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he gestured to the seat across from him. “Guess I’m doing something right.”“Of course,” she replied, her voice steadier than she expected. “I wouldn’t miss it.”Sliding into the seat, she set her bag down and glanced at him, taking in the details she hadn’t noticed before—the slight scruff on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to light up when he spoke. It put her at ease somehow. “So,” he began, leaning forward slightly, “What’s your drink of choice, huh? Let me guess— one of those fuckin' ridiculously sweet lattes that’s more sugar than coffee? Yeah, I can totally see it”Amy laughed, the tension in her shoulders melting away. “Not quite. I’m more of a chai latte kind of girl.”“Well, chai latte it is,” Negan said with a grin, signalling to the waiter.After ordering her drink, their conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from light-hearted topics like favourite pizza toppings to deeper subjects like past relationships. Amy hadn’t laughed this much in years, and there was an undeniable buzz in the air—a spark she hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.Her last relationship had been rocky at best. She’d dated her high school sweetheart, Adam, since 11th grade, a literal Avril Lavigne story. Amy, the top student and debate team star, had literally run into him in the hallway when she was late to class. He was the school’s quiet loner with a chip on his shoulder, and for years, Amy thought they balanced each other perfectly.They stayed together for ten years—longer than most of her friends had been married. She was convinced he was her forever, the one she’d marry and build a life with. But everything fell apart when she found out he’d cheated on her with a mutual friend she hadn’t spoken to in years. At first, she refused to believe it, brushing it off as a ridiculous rumour. But the truth was undeniable, and yet, she couldn’t leave him. Her love for him blinded her, and she stayed, hoping things would get better.Instead, one day, she came home from a gruelling hospital shift to find him—and all his belongings—gone. Checking his social media, she discovered he was in Milan with the woman he’d cheated with. Milan had been her dream vacation, a place she’d spoken about countless times, and now he was living that dream with someone else.The breakup gutted her. Years passed without her going on a single date, always holding on to the faint hope that one day he’d come back, admitting he’d made a mistake. But that day never came.“So, I have to ask. Cats or dogs?” she said, leaning forward with playful intent. His answer wouldn’t really change her opinion of him… but she always found this question revealing.“Easy. Dogs,” he said without hesitation, leaning back with a confident smirk. “Dogs. No contest. Loyal, badass, and they’ll stick with you no matter how bad you screw up. A cat? Hell, that furry little bastard wouldn’t even notice if you left as long as it had kibble. What about you? You’re cat person, right?” He raised his eyebrows, pointing at her with the spoon that had come with his americano.“How did you know?” Amy replied, flipping her hair dramatically for effect, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.Negan chuckled, the sound warm and infectious. “I had a feeling. You seem like the type who’d have a cat with one of those fuckin' ridiculous names, like Mr. Fluffypaws or something.”Amy laughed, louder than she meant to, and shook her head. “No ridiculous names, thank you very much. But I do have a soft spot for cats. They’re independent but affectionate when it counts. Plus, I admire their ‘I don’t need anyone’ attitude.”Negan flashed that trademark grin, leaning in with a swagger. “Fair enough. But me? I’m ride-or-die for Team Dog. Loyalty? That, darlin', is the real damn currency.”Amy found herself smiling, her earlier nerves dissolving. There was something about the way Negan spoke—confident but not overbearing, teasing but kind—that made her feel at ease.As the conversation continued, Amy realized how different this moment felt from anything she’d experienced in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t dwelling on the past or waiting for something that would never come. They had talked until the café was nearly empty, only noticing the time when a staff member politely let them know it was closing.Negan checked his watch and cleared his throat as Amy slipped her cardigan back on.“So, the night’s still young. Wanna grab a drink?” he asked, shrugging into his black leather jacket.Amy hesitated. She’d driven here, which made things complicated. A small war broke out in her head: head out for a drink with Negan or go home and dive back into her Gilmore Girls binge. Both options were appealing in their own way. After a moment, she made her decision.“Can I take a rain check? I drove here, and a cab ride home and back tomorrow is out of my pay grade,” she joked, though her words faltered slightly when she caught a flicker of disappointment in Negan’s eyes. Now she felt bad. Could she salvage this? Maybe she could invite him over instead?“Unless…” she began, almost surprising herself, “you’d want to come over to my place? We could order pizza or something?” The suggestion felt like a decent compromise—she could still spend time with him and keep Gilmore Girls on the menu.“Really? I wouldn’t want to intrude…” Negan replied, but the slight smirk playing on his lips betrayed his words.“No, you wouldn’t. I’m inviting you, so there’s no intrusion,” Amy said warmly, though her cheeks burned when he grinned and drawled:“Okay, doll. Whatever you say.”Doll? Her face grew hotter at the casual pet name, but she quickly recovered.“Alright,” she said with a slightly flustered laugh. “There’s a spare parking spot next to mine—my neighbours are in Australia for the month.”Gathering her things, she followed Negan out of the café, both thanking the staff on their way. She caught the quick motion of him slipping a $10 bill into the tip jar. They stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of the café door clicking shut behind them. Amy’s heart was still racing a little—half from the nerves of inviting Negan over, and half from the unusual thrill of doing something spontaneous. She glanced at him, trying to gauge his mood.Negan, for his part, seemed relaxed as ever, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his leather jacket. He was walking a little closer than usual, his presence a warm contrast to the crisp night. Amy’s mind raced again, this time more about the unexpected energy between them than anything else. Was it just the chemistry of the evening, or was there something else?They reached the sidewalk, and Negan paused for a moment, glancing toward the parking lot. “So, you lead the way?” he asked, looking at her with a grin. “I’ll follow you to your place.”Amy smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good with that. I’ll see you there.”She headed toward her car, sliding into the driver’s seat without hesitation. She hadn’t expected anything else—she liked driving herself, and it felt natural to have Negan follow her. She started the engine, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road, making sure to keep a little distance between them.Negan’s car was in her rear-view mirror now, and as she drove, she couldn’t help but notice the way the headlights of his black muscle car followed her down the street. It felt oddly comforting, like he was right there with her, even though they were in separate cars. It wasn’t a long drive to her apartment, but she found herself thinking about how easily they were slipping into this rhythm.The drive was calm, the hum of the engine and the occasional shift in gears as they passed streetlights and the occasional car. She specifically chose ‘Kiss me’ by Sixpence None The Richer as the song of the night. Amy kept her eyes on the road but found herself glancing at Negan’s car every so often, seeing the way his headlights glinted in the rear-view mirror.When they arrived at her apartment complex, Amy parked in her spot. Negan pulled up next to her and stopped, his car’s engine cutting off as he followed her out of the car. He gave her a small wave, his easy grin never fading.“You sure you’re okay with me tagging along?” he asked, his tone light but with that unmistakable edge, his warm gaze locking on hers.Amy chuckled. “I’m fine with it. Wasn’t expecting you to drive me home or anything.” She felt a flicker of something—something that made her stomach flip—but brushed it off. She liked her independence. This? This didn’t feel forced.Negan grinned, his lips curving into that cocky smirk. “Well, sweetheart, I’ll take that as a goddamn compliment. Ain’t every day a guy gets to be part of your ‘I’m Miss Independent’ routine.” He threw in a wink for good measure.Amy rolled her eyes but smiled, unlocking the door and stepping inside. She held it open for him, gesturing for him to follow. “Come on, make yourself at home. Pizza’s on the way—I called it in on the drive—and I’ve got Gilmore Girls queued up. Get ready for some serious drama.”Negan kicked off his boots at the door, his sharp eyes scanning the place. “Well, look at this. Cosy. Feels like it’s got personality… unlike most fuckin' places people call home these days.”“Thanks,” Amy said with a small smile. It wasn’t much—just a modest one-bedroom with mismatched furniture and overflowing bookshelves—but it was hers, and she liked it that way.She texted him the gate code before turning back to face him. “Want anything to drink while we wait? Wine? Beer? Water?”Negan dropped onto the couch, stretching out like he owned the place. “Whatever you’re pouring, doll. Just don’t give me anything that tastes like regret.”Amy rolled her eyes again, grabbing a dusty bottle of wine and two floral glasses her sister had gifted her. She sat down at the far end of the couch, settling in. Silence stretched between them—not awkward, but easy.When the pizza finally arrived, Amy grinned as she set the box on the coffee table. “Alright, Gilmore Girls marathon starts now.”Negan leaned back, tossing her a crooked smile. “Oh, I’ve got thoughts about these people, trust me. But don’t say I didn’t fuckin' warn you—I ain’t holding back.”Amy laughed, folding her legs beneath her. “Bring it on. I’ll defend every questionable choice they make like my life depends on it.”And with that, the evening settled into a surprisingly relaxed rhythm. The two of them enjoyed the warmth of each other's company, though a part of Amy couldn't shake the feeling that something was up. Still, she chose to live in this fantasy for now.
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It had been a year since Amy first arrived in Alexandria, and over that time, the community had gradually begun to feel more like a normal life. During this time, she had grown close to a guy named Heath. Heath has a lean, angular face with a strong jawline which Amy is extremely jealous of and medium brown skin. His expression is often serious and thoughtful, matching his calm demeanour. Amy and Heath were introduced by Denise and, over the past year, they had developed a bond. Amy now considers him like an older brother.Today was different. Today, Alexandria was welcoming a new group of survivors—Rick Grimes and his people—and Amy had been tasked with helping make sure they were all physically well enough to settle in.She had already gone through a few check-ups with the others, but when it was Maggie’s turn, something about her caught Amy’s attention. While the others seemed to be settling in and adjusting to their new surroundings, Maggie sat quietly in the corner of the medical building, her eyes distant and thoughtful. Amy could tell that Maggie had been through her fair share of hardship. She could see it in the quiet strength that radiated from her, even when she tried to mask it.“Hey, Maggie,” Amy greeted as she approached, her voice soft and inviting. “How you feelin’?”Maggie looked up, her face brightening slightly at the sound of her name. “Oh, hey. I’m alright, just a little tired, I guess.”Amy smiled. “I get it. It’s a lot to take in all at once, especially after everything you've been through. Just want to do a quick check to make sure you’re physically alright.”Maggie nodded and stood up, her movements slow but steady. “Sure, I don’t mind.”As Amy began taking Maggie’s vitals, she noticed the subtle exhaustion in her features—though nothing was overtly wrong. She was just weary, like the rest of them. But as she continued her examination, Amy couldn’t help but sense that Maggie was holding something back—something deeper. Maggie didn’t speak about it, but Amy could tell there was a lot more beneath the surface.“How’s the road been for you?” Amy asked casually, trying to ease the tension as she checked Maggie’s blood pressure. “Long journey, huh?”Maggie sighed lightly, glancing away for a moment before meeting Amy’s gaze. “Yeah. It feels like we’ve been on the move forever. Some days it feels like we’ve been chasing hope, but... we’ve made it this far. That counts for something, right?”Amy smiled, nodding. “It does. Alexandria’s a good place to rest, to breathe for a bit. I think we could all use a little peace after everything.”“I agree,” Maggie replied, her voice a little quieter now. “It’s strange, though. Finding a place like this. After so much time on the road... sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s real.”Amy finished up the check and moved to sit beside Maggie. “Yeah, I get it. It’s easy to be sceptical after everything we’ve all been through. But Alexandria is different. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.”Maggie’s gaze softened as she looked down at her hands, her fingers lightly curled into fists. “I don’t know if I ever thought I’d get used to this... the idea of rebuilding. It feels... hard. We’ve lost so much.”Amy’s heart tightened at the words. She knew all too well what Maggie meant. She’d seen that same pain in so many others. The losses, the grief—they never truly went away.“You’re not alone in that,” Amy said softly, glancing at her with empathy. “It’s not easy to just move forward after losing so much.”Maggie nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. Amy felt a slight weight in her chest, the unspoken understanding between them hanging in the air. Maggie had lost a lot, and though she didn’t say it outright, Amy had a feeling she was carrying a lot more than just the grief of the world. There was something about Maggie’s demeanour, the way she moved so carefully, the way she carried herself. Amy wasn’t sure if it was just the weight of the journey or something else, but it felt like Maggie had a secret she wasn’t ready to share.Amy chose not to press. She wasn’t here to pry; she was here to make sure Maggie was healthy. “Alright,” she said, breaking the silence. “Everything looks good physically. No major injuries, no signs of illness. You’re free to settle in. But if you ever need anything... I’m here.”Maggie looked at her with a small smile, the first real smile she’d given since Amy walked in. “Thanks, Amy. That means a lot. I’ll keep that in mind.”As Maggie stood up, Amy couldn’t help but notice the slight way she held herself, protective, almost instinctively. And while she hadn’t said it aloud, Amy wondered if she was hiding something—perhaps something that had to do with the quiet, almost imperceptible changes in her that no one else had noticed. For a moment, their eyes met again. Maggie’s smile widened, but there was a glimmer of something deeper behind it—a strength, a resilience, but also a kind of uncertainty.“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” Amy asked gently, sensing the layers to Maggie that no one had yet scratched.Maggie’s smile faltered for just a second before she nodded. “We all have. But we keep moving forward, right?”Amy returned the smile, more genuinely this time. “Right. One step at a time.”As Maggie left the small medical room, softly shutting the door behind her. Amy took a long exhale out, relaxing into the back of her office chair. Leaning her feet on her desk, she moved papers around her desk to reveal a book Eric had found - ‘Pride and Prejudice’ , a Jane Austen classic she had loved since she was a teen. She quickly found herself getting lost in its pages. In a time when everything felt so uncertain, there was something comforting in the timelessness of a good story. Amy found solace in the quiet escape, her mind momentarily drifting away from the harsh realities of the world._________________________________________________________________________Daryl, Abraham and Sasha had come back from a supply run with an interesting story. They had been stopped by a gang on motorcycles calling themselves the Saviors. Their leader, Bud, takes the trio's weapons and orders another Savior to make Daryl open the back of the truck. He informs Sasha and Abraham that his group of Saviors will be escorted back to wherever they call home and not to ask any questions, that they and everything they owned belonged to ‘Negan’.The name rang through Amy’s head like a bullet.Abraham asks him who Negan is and the 'Savior' pulls a gun on him. Sasha tries to reason with him and so he takes out another gun, now pointing at both of them. After a moment of holding the two at gunpoint in silence, he lowers the guns and says he won't kill either of them. However, he changes his mind after a moment and pulls the guns on them once again, though before he can kill either, he and his entire group are blown up with a rocket launcher by Daryl.Amelia's breath caught in her throat hearing his name for the first time in years. Memories of her life before the outbreak flooded back – the busy halls of the Atlanta hospital, the weekend dates, and the man she thought she knew. Negan. Her ex-boyfriend. The charming, charismatic man who had swept her off her feet, now the supposed leader of the Saviors.Needless to say, Amy didn't believe her ears. Thinking that it was a slip up of words, or she was hearing things but when his name was uttered again– she had no reason to not believe it anymore._________________________________________________________________________Amy and Carol - a member of Rick’s group - sat across from each other at the modest dining table in Amy's’ (Now Amy’s and Carol’s) home in Alexandria. The sun was sinking low on the horizon, painting the room in a soft amber glow. The aroma of simmering stew mingled with the faint scent of herbs, wrapping the space in a rare sense of comfort. Amid the chaos outside Alexandria’s walls, their quiet dinners had become a sanctuary—a fragile moment of normalcy they both clung to.“Want more bread?” Carol's voice cut through the quiet, her eyes flicking to the half-eaten loaf on the table. She didn’t push, just offered, like she always did.Amy hesitated, then tore off a piece. “Sure. It’s good.”They ate without much else to say, the clink of utensils filling the space. It was a comfortable kind of quiet, the kind you only got with people who’d been through things together. Eventually, the talk drifted from supply runs to something heavier.Carol leaned back, studying Amy like she was looking for something beneath the surface. “Been thinking a lot lately... how far we’ve come. Almost feels normal, sometimes.”Amy huffed a soft laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Normal? Not sure I remember what that is.”Carol nodded, her expression turning serious. “Yeah. Not all sunshine and rainbows, huh?” Her gaze stayed steady. “You holding up? Anything you need to get off your chest?”Amy froze, fingers tightening around her fork. She stared at it for a beat too long before swallowing hard. “Actually... yeah,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “I had someone. Before.”Carol didn’t say anything right away, just waited. She was good at that. “Tell me about him,” she said finally.Amy traced patterns on the table with one finger. “He was... charming. The kind of guy who could light up a room, you know? Dimples when he smiled. And his laugh... it could make you forget the world for a while.” A sad smile tugged at her lips.Carol nodded, like she understood more than she let on. “But?”Amy sighed, twisting the napkin in her lap. “But he was married. I didn’t know at first. When I found out, I ended it. Didn’t matter, though. Damage was done.” She blinked hard, voice thickening. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just... I didn’t see it coming.”Carol took a sip of water, her eyes never leaving Amy. “Sometimes we see what we need to see. Makes it easier to ignore the cracks.”Amy gave a small, bitter laugh. “I thought I could help him. Thought maybe... I could fix things.”Carol’s voice was steady, but there was a weight behind it. “That’s not on you, Amy. People make their own choices. Good or bad.”Amy looked up, searching Carol’s face. “I just... I don’t want to make that mistake again. Trusting the wrong person.”Carol leaned forward slightly, her tone firm but kind. “You won’t. Not the same way. We learn. We get stronger. And we keep going.”Silence settled over them, but it wasn’t heavy. It was the kind that said everything without words.Amy exhaled, a little steadier now. “I’m just... I’m glad I’m here. With people I can trust.”Carol’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Yeah. Me too.”Amy smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to hope. The shadows of her past might always linger, but sitting here, across from someone who truly understood, she felt lighter. Healing was possible—even in a world that had fallen apart.As they resumed their meal, the faint sound of laughter drifted in from outside. Life in Alexandria wasn’t perfect, but for now, it was enough._________________________________________________________________________It had been a few weeks since Rick’s group arrived in Alexandria, and the fragile peace inside the walls felt like an illusion. For most of the group, the safety of the community came as a welcome change, but for Amy, it was unsettling. She preferred to keep to herself, wary of forming attachments in a world where survival often meant loss. She hadn't left the gates since their arrival, afraid that stepping outside might mean never returning.Rick, however, was restless. The discovery of the Saviors—a ruthless group extorting supplies from the Hilltop—had given him a new focus. It didn’t take long for him to convince the group that the only way to secure Alexandria’s future was to strike first.When Amy was asked to join the raid, she thought Maggie was joking.The seriousness in her tone, however, told a different story. “We need every hand we can get,” Maggie said. “Even if you don’t fire a shot, just being there matters.”Amy wanted to refuse but couldn’t find the words. Before she knew it, she was sitting in a pew in the church, listening to Rick lay out the plan. The tension in the room was suffocating, the faces around her a mix of determination and dread."We do this for the Hilltop,” Rick spat, his tone venomous. “it’s how we keep this place. It’s how we feed this place.” He scanned the group. “This needs to be a group decision. If anybody objects, here’s your chance to say your piece.” Amy didn’t turn as the group’s eyes shifted to Morgan, who stood.“Are you sure we can do it? We can beat them?” Morgan’s voice wavered, just slightly, but Amy caught it. She glanced around—some of them noticed too, others didn’t. Rick stood firm, unmoved, while Aaron's jaw clenched tight, his knuckles white against his knees. Amy wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.“What this group has done, what we’ve learned, what we’ve become, all of us– yes, I’m sure.” Amy's habit of picking her cuticles had left them raw, a stinging reminder of how bad things had gotten.The musty scent of the old church filled Amy’s nose, mixing with the faint metallic tang of her own blood. She picked at her cuticles again, wincing. The wooden pew beneath her creaked as she shifted, but no one noticed. All eyes were on Rick.“Then all we have to do is just tell them that.” Morgan nodded, determined.“Well, they don't compromise.” Rick responded.“This isn't a compromise. It’s a choice you give them. It’s a way out, for them and for us.” Amy appreciated Morgan’s optimism but she knew this was worse than that.“We try and talk to the Saviors, we give up our advantage, our safety. No, we have to come for them before they come for us.” Rick’s hand found his hip, his stance unwavering. “We can’t leave them alive.” damn Amy thought.“Where there’s life, there’s possibility.” Morgan was going to continue but Rick was quick to intervene.“Of them hitting us.” His voice raised slightly.“We’re not trapped in this. None of you are trapped in this.” Morgan looked around the group.“Morgan…they always come back.” Rick shook his head.“Come back when they’re dead, too.” Morgan added.“Yeah, we’ll stop them. We have before.”“I’m not talking about the walkers.” Morgan said ominously.“Morgan wants to talk to them first. I think that would be a mistake, but it's not up to me.” Rick gestured. “I’ll talk to the people still at home. I’ll discuss it with the people on guard now, too, but who else wants to approach the Saviors, talk to them first?” Rick asked.Amy thought it was a ‘put your hands up’ situation so she slowly raised her hand but quickly lowered it back down when Aaron shot up from his seat.“What happened here, we won’t let that happen again.” Aaron nodded then looked back towards Morgan. “I won’t.” He nodded at Rick, lowering himself back on the pew.“Looks like it’s settled. We know exactly what this is. We don't shy from it, we live.” He nodded. “We kill them all.” Silence settled awkwardly over the group, heavy and unspoken. Amy’s leg bouncing could now be faintly heard on the wooden floor.“We don’t all have to kill.” Morgan sat back down as Rick continued. “But if people are gonna stay here…” Rick walked down the aisle with passion. “They do have to accept it.” The sound of the church doors opening could be heard as everyone took this as the sign to get up and leave. Amy shot up and jogged to her home, eager to have a shower._________________________________________________________________________The next day was the day of the attack. Amy hadn't been at the meeting the previous night, but Maggie had filled her in on the ins and outs. They had set out early to reach the outpost by nightfall. Amy sat in the passenger seat of one of the cars, with Father Gabriel behind the wheel.The RV in front of them came to an abrupt halt, jolting Amy from an accidental slumber.“The fuck is goin’ on?” she muttered, tiredness evident in her voice.“We’re stopping here.” Father Gabriel put the car in park and got out, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder.With a huff, Amy pulled her feet down from where they had been resting on the dashboard. Grabbing the assault rifle that had been given to her a few weeks ago, she shoved the door open.Her boots hit the tarmac, and she noticed everyone else walking toward the RV—toward Rick—so she decided to follow the herd.“Aaron, Rosita,” Rick called, slamming the RV door shut. “You start here. We’ll peel off every quarter mile and meet back here in a couple of hours. See what we got.”Father Gabriel was already heading over to Rick, prompting Amy to veer toward Carol instead who was now stomping out a cigarette._________________________________________________________________________The group now stood in a wide circle behind the RV, Amy leaned against the side of the car she had arrived in nursing a cigarette that Daryl was kind enough to give her, he was perched on the hood.“We’re gonna take a look around, try to get a feel for how many people are in there.” Rick stood in the centre of the group, holding his rifle to his chest. “We like how it looks, we go in. A couple of hours before dawn.” He nodded. “The guards outside’ll be tired. Everyone inside’ll be sleeping.”Amy turned her head and made eye contact with Tara, who leant on the other side of the car. Tara gave her a warm smile which she reciprocated, turning her head back towards Rick taking a long drag of the nicotine.“We don't like what we see, we head back, make a new plan.” Rick gestured. “They don't know who we are. We’ll keep Jesus in the shadows.” Rick looked around the group. “This is how we eat. This is how we eat.” He nodded once more. “We roll out at midnight.”Amy nodded to herself, taking another drag of the cigarette before flicking it away from the others.Amy walked to the front of the RV, where the rewards from today's walker killings lay—three heads that bore some resemblance to Gregory, the gift the Saviors had asked for.Obviously, they weren’t going to cut Gregory’s head off, even though he was a prick, so this was the solution.“What have we got?” Rick walked over, Amy stood next to Andy looking down at the heads, her own tilted slightly.“That one.” Jesus pointed to the middle one.“Yeah that's it.” Andy said.“All right.” Rick nodded.“Though, it's probably good we’re doing this at night.” Rick looked at Jesus then knelt down towards the decapitated head.“The nose. Gregory’s is a different shape.” Jesus nodded.The three watched as Rick picked up the head by its hair and punched it right in the nose. Andy looked away as Amy snorted. Once satisfied Rick placed it back down.“Damn,” Amy muttered. “Didn’t think you’d actually do it.”“He fought back.” Rick pointed. “You broke your hand, right?” Amy looked towards Andy’s bandaged up hand.“Guess there’s no reason to be subtle about it.” Jesus responded. Rick stood up, picking back up his rifle and looked at Andy.“What?” Rick must have seen something in his face.“The Saviors… they’re scary, but those pricks got nothin’ on you.” Amy snorted once more as Andy walked away, a smirk planted on Jesus' mouth._________________________________________________________________________Midnight came too quickly for Amy’s liking. She crouched behind a bush with Daryl, muscles tense as they waited for their cue to strike. Andy’s earlier confrontation with the two guards left a knot of unease in her stomach. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this could spiral into something worse. She prayed she was wrong.When one of the guards stepped inside the outpost, their moment arrived. Daryl sprinted forward, blade flashing in the moonlight as he silently slit the larger man’s throat. The rest of the group surged from their positions like shadows. Amy’s heart pounded against her ribs.“Calm down, you’ve got this.” she whispered under her breath, forcing herself to move with the others toward the outpost’s front entrance. They worked quickly, dragging the dead man’s body out of sight before melting back into the darkness.“Well, well, well... look who it is.”A Savior guard emerged, dragging their hostage from Hilltop. Before Amy could react, Michonne appeared from behind, katana flashing as it drove through the man’s chest with swift precision. He crumpled to the ground, lifeless.Andy stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on the hostage’s shoulder before leading him back to the car, Father Gabriel and Tara close behind. The rest of the group slipped inside the outpost, the stale, metallic scent of sweat and rust assaulting their senses.Weapons raised, they moved cautiously, expecting the worst. Amy’s hands trembled slightly—sure, she’d toughened up since the fall, but she wasn’t desensitized to killing. And these people... were they really innocent? Right? She pushed the thought away. No time for doubt now.The dimly lit hallway stretched before them, lined with rusted lockers and peeling paint. Amy swallowed hard. Focus. Job to do.“Check the doors. Find the arsenal.” Rick whispered, his voice low but commanding.Amy gave a quick nod, falling into step with Aaron and Rosita as they slipped down a side corridor, the air thick with tension. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears as they methodically cleared each room, eliminating the sleeping men before they had a chance to react.Then, the worst happened.An alarm blared—loud, shrill, and unforgiving. Gunfire erupted almost instantly, echoing down the hall in bursts of deafening chaos. Amy’s instincts kicked in, and she regrouped with Rosita as Aaron stumbled back, breathless.“That’s one of the locked ones. We’re gonna cover you. Do it.” Rosita snapped, eyes sharp and focused as gunfire rained down from the parallel hallway.Amy and Rosita returned fire, each shot precise and controlled, dropping hostiles like flies. The acrid scent of gunpowder filled the air.With a grunt, Aaron finally kicked the door open. Expecting an arsenal, they were instead met with a cramped supply room—stacked floor to ceiling with toilet paper and tea towels.Amy stared at the shelves in disbelief, sweat trickling down her temple.“Well, that’s just great.” Amy muttered under her breath._________________________________________________________________________It was daylight when they emerged from the building, the sunlight hitting them like a slap in the face after the dark and musty atmosphere inside. Rick was moving, raising the shutters on one of the doors, his eyes scanning the area like a hawk. The rest of the group filed out behind him, weapons up and ready. Everyone's movements were tense, every creak of the building and rustle of the wind sending them into alert mode, but nothing was out there.Amy stood there for a moment, just breathing it in. It was the first time in hours she could really feel the sun on her skin. Slowly, the tension left her body. When it was clear, she let out a long, relieved breath, lowering her gun and letting it rest on the strap over her shoulder. Finally, she could relax, even if just for a moment.Tara and Heath were already gearing up for their supply trip, making final checks on their packs and guns. Tara glanced over at Amy, giving her a tight smile.“We’ll be back soon.” Tara said, though the hesitation in her voice told Amy she was trying to convince herself just as much as her.“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Amy replied, her smile a little strained. “I’m gonna miss you.”She stepped forward to give Heath a quick hug. He hugged her back, his movements casual but reassuring, swaying her a little in that way he always did, like he didn’t quite know how to be sentimental, but still didn’t mind the gesture.“Yeah, yeah,” Heath said, pulling away with a grin. “You’re gonna miss me so much, you’ll probably cry yourself to sleep at night.”Amy chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I doubt that.”Heath shrugged, looking over at Tara, who was busy checking the RV’s engine. “Nah, but seriously. We’ll be back before you know it. You won’t even have time to miss me.”Amy raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “I’m not so sure about that. You sure you’re gonna be okay out there?”Heath shot her a look that was half-amused, half-serious. “I’m more worried about you keeping yourself out of trouble than me. You know how I roll.”Tara finally finished her check, nodding in approval. “Alright, Heath. Quit giving Amy a hard time. We gotta go.”Heath gave Amy one last quick, playful shove, then turned to follow Tara into the RV. As the door slammed shut behind him, Amy exchanged a quick fist bump with Tara.“Take care out there.” Amy said with a smile, though it was a little forced.Tara nodded, her usual calm demeanour holding steady. “Always.”With that, the RV roared to life, and they were off, the engine’s sounds fading into the distance. Amy stood there, watching them go. Then, from behind, the sound of a revving engine cut through the air. Amy quickly raised her rifle in defense as a motorcycle came barrelling toward them. She was fast enough to shoot him down. A grunt escaped the man as he fell, the motorcycle careening sideways.The Savior attempted to rise, but Daryl tackled him, landing on top and raining punches down on his face.“Where’d you get the bike?!” Daryl snarled, his fist connecting again.The man spat blood, his teeth a grotesque sight. “Just do it! Like you did everyone else, right?”The crackle of static on the radio caught Amy’s attention.“Lower your gun, prick,” a woman’s voice commanded through the walkie-talkie. “You, with the Colt Python. All of you, lower your weapons, now.”Everyone held their ground.“Come on out. Let’s talk,” Rick replied into the radio, his pistol still trained on the Savior’s head, who lay on the ground.“We’re not coming out, but we’ll talk,” the woman’s voice responded. “We’ve got a Carol and a Maggie. I’m thinking that’s something you’ll want to chat about.”Rick’s face twisted with rage. Slowly, one by one, everyone lowered their weapons.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Ever since their first date, Amy found herself drawn to him in ways she hadn’t expected. What started as casual curiosity had quickly become something more—a connection that filled the quiet, empty spaces in her life. Most of her weekends off were spent with him, and although dating was unfamiliar territory for her, she welcomed it with open arms.He had a way of making her laugh, effortlessly breaking through the guarded walls she had spent years building. Their first dates were simple—coffee at a quiet café, a walk in the park, dinner at a cosy diner—but they were enough to ignite something she hadn’t felt in a long time. By their fourth date, Amy was spending hours before each outing, carefully picking an outfit and debating whether to wear her hair up or down. She hated how nervous she felt around him, but she couldn’t deny the thrill of it.“You always look great.” Negan said with a grin when he arrived one evening, his cheeks still flushed from rushing to meet her on time. His dimples deepened as he held the door open for her.She smiled back, trying to hide how much the compliment affected her. “You’re just saying that because you’re late and trying to make up for it.”“Guilty as fuckin’ charged,” he drawled, throwing his hands up like he was caught red-handed. “But hey, at least I ain’t lyin’.”Their banter flowed easily, the kind of back-and-forth that felt like a private language only they understood. Amy found herself smiling more than she had in years. On one of their dates, they visited a carnival that had set up just outside the city. The smell of popcorn and candy floss filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of laughter and carnival games. He insisted on winning her a stuffed bear at the ring toss, despite missing every single shot.“You’re terrible at this, aren't you supposed to be a gym teacher?” Amy teased, stifling a laugh as he handed over more tickets to the game attendant.“Terrible? Nah, I’d go with ‘tactically underappreciated,’” he fired back with that signature smirk, finally sinking a ring. “Boom! Sweet, sweet redemption, baby!”She took the small bear he handed her, its lopsided grin matching her own. “I’ll cherish it forever.” She said dramatically, clutching it to her chest.Moments like these were intoxicating. For the first time in a long time, Amy felt alive. But beneath the laughter and stolen glances, there was always a flicker of doubt.
_________________________________________________________________________The rain came suddenly, a torrential downpour that turned the city streets into glistening rivers. Amy and Negan had just finished a late dinner at a small Italian restaurant, its warmth and soft candlelight now a fading memory as they stood huddled under an umbrella outside; Amy had stashed it in her shoulder bag just in case.“Of course it would rain.” Amy muttered, pulling her brown coat tighter around her as the cold air bit at her cheeks. The umbrella was barely big enough to shield them both, forcing them to stand close.He laughed, his voice cutting through the sound of raindrops pelting the fabric above them. “Hey, I think it’s romantic. Like something out of a shitty rom-com.”Amy rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Only in the movies does rain conveniently stop right after the dramatic moment.”“Well, maybe we’re overdue for one of those dramatic moments.” He teased, nudging her shoulder gently.She glanced at him, the faint light from a streetlamp casting a soft glow on his face. His hair was damp at the edges, and water dripped from his chin, but his eyes—warm and full of something she couldn’t quite name—held her gaze.“What?” she asked, her voice quieter now.“Nothin’,” he said with a small shake of his head, but his smile softened. “I just… I’m glad I met you.”Amy felt her breath hitch, her heart thudding in her chest. The weight of his words hung between them, heavier than the rain. She opened her mouth to reply, but the vulnerability in his expression made her pause.“Me too.” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.For a moment, the world seemed to shrink, the noise of the city and the rain fading into the background. It was just the two of them, standing impossibly close under the umbrella. His eyes flicked to her lips, and Amy felt her cheeks flush. She could feel the heat of him, the scent of his cologne mixing with the rain.“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his voice uncertain in a way she hadn’t heard before.Amy’s lips parted in surprise, but she found herself nodding before she even realized it. He leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, but she didn’t. When their lips met, it was soft at first—hesitant, almost as if they were both afraid to break the moment. Then the kiss deepened, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek, and Amy felt herself melting into him. The umbrella tilted, forgotten as the rain soaked her hair and ran down her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was him, the way he kissed her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, he rested his forehead against hers, his grin infectious. “Guess the rain really is good for dramatic moments.”Amy giggled, her chest warm despite the rain chilling her skin. “Maybe just this once.”
_________________________________________________________________________Days no longer seemed to drag on endlessly for Amy. She had found a rhythm in her shifts, and while the hospital's fluorescent-lit halls were still as exhausting as ever, she made a conscious effort to keep a positive attitude. She even pushed herself to engage with co-workers she had barely exchanged more than a few words with before. A friendly conversation here, a shared joke there—little things that helped make the long hours feel a bit lighter.That didn’t mean the shifts weren’t utterly draining, though. Some days, especially when the hospital overflowed with patients, felt like they would never end.Tonight—well, technically, this very early morning—was one of those nights. Amy refused to acknowledge the transition into Saturday just yet, even though the clock had long since ticked past midnight. Friday evenings always brought an influx of patients, most of them casualties of their own reckless celebrations. Fistfights outside bars, drunken accidents, injuries that could have been avoided if not for poor decisions fuelled by alcohol and end-of-week euphoria. The emergency department was a revolving door of chaos, and Amy had been at the centre of it since the early afternoon.She had hoped to clock out at a reasonable hour, but fate—or rather, the needs of an overburdened hospital—had other plans. The unexpected surge in patients meant she was stuck working overtime, despite her best efforts to escape it.
Now, at last, she had a sliver of rest. Amy let out a deep breath as she sank into the stiff chair in the break room, feeling the weight of the shift pressing down on her shoulders. Twenty five minutes. That was all she had to recharge, to attempt to wake herself up before diving back into the fray.Choosing the seat furthest from the door, she slouched slightly, her phone resting in her lap, wired earphones tangled in her left hand, the other warmed by a cup of coffee she grabbed on the way in. She popped one in her ear and pressed play. Natasha Bedingfield’s These Words spilled through the tiny speakers, its gentle rhythm settling over her like a warm blanket.Lifting a paper cup to her lips, she took a sip of coffee and instantly regretted it. Stale. Weak. Barely passable. But it was caffeine, and at this hour, caffeine was more necessity than pleasure. As the song drifted into its final chorus, Amy found herself sinking into a trance, her mind floating somewhere between exhaustion and mild amusement at the absurdity of the night. It was almost peaceful.Then—DING.Her phone screen lit up, the sudden notification yanking her out of her hazy, robotic-like state. Amy blinked, taking a second to register what just happened before lowering her cup and picking up her phone.
Negan😚: Damn, babe. You ghosting me already? Where the hell you at?
Amy was about to respond but then saw the other texts she had failed to respond to, her eyes flicked between them until they were at two words ‘anniversary dinner’ Shit shit double shit…was that today? Yesterday? Amy screamed in her head and quickly typed out an excuse.
You : OMG i am so fucking sorry!!!!!! we are swamped at work so am working overtime, i will text you as soon as i am off but i have only just had a chance to see your messages!!!!!!! i promise i will make it up to you 😰💕
She could have broken a world record with how fast she typed that. Amy ran a hand over her face. How could I forget?!? It is our 1 year anniversary, we have been talking about what we were going to do for weeks! How could I be so careless? Amy mentally berated herself, but was quickly pulled out of it when Negan replied.
Negan😚 : You don’t gotta stress—I know you’re out there doing important shit, no need to make it up to me. I got us reservations to this fancy ass restaurant for tonight.❤️
Amy smiled down at her phone, her cheeks likely dusted pink. Turning off her phone, she downed the rest of her coffee and let herself relax for the 20 minutes left of her break before heading back into the mayhem of the hospital.
_________________________________________________________________________
You: finally off 💕
Amy jammed into her phone, turning it off and shoving it into her purse. As heart-breaking as it is, Amy’s baby—her beetle—was in the shop as it had broken down while she was on her way to work the previous week. Another reason to fork out money. She always hated it but she had been taking the bus, it was cheaper than a cab and dropped her off right outside her apartment as the stop was right in front of her building.Saying her farewells to her co-workers she headed out the front doors, the fresh air greeted her with a swift hug. Amy took a big deep breath and started her trek to the bus stop but someone familiar caught her eye.Negan sat on a wooden bench outside the hospital entrance, one booted foot tapping idly against the pavement. The glow of his cigarette flared as he took a slow drag, exhaling a thin stream of smoke into the crisp evening air. His leather jacket creaked as he shifted, eyes fixed on the dim light of his phone screen, the bluish glow casting sharp shadows across his face.“Negan? What are you doing out here?” Amy said, a smile plastered on her face, wrapping her coat tightly around her to protect herself from the biting cold.Negan looked up from his phone, worry etched into his face making Amy’s stomach knot slightly.“Hey doll, I came to pick you up, it being our fuckin’ anniversary n’ all.” Negan stood from his seat, flicking his cigarette on the floor and crushing it with his boot, walking over to Amy he embraced her.“Why do you look so concerned?” Amy questioned, but she had a feeling she was overstepping.“Oh…the goddamn baseball results from yesterday. Got beat the shit out of.” Negan smiled, stealing a quick kiss from her lips.“You didn’t have to come all the way out here.” Amy said, nudging him lightly with her elbow as he wrapped an arm around her. “You could’ve waited inside.”“And sit in there with all those sick bastards coughing their lungs out? No thanks, doll.” Negan smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.Amy caught the brief flicker of unease on his face again. It was subtle—most people wouldn’t have noticed—but she knew him well enough to tell when something was off.“Negan—”“Let’s get you home, huh?” He cut her off, leading her toward his car. The engine roared to life as he cranked the ignition, his free hand resting comfortably on her thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot. The roads were quiet, just the occasional set of headlights passing them by.Amy leaned her head against the window, watching the city blur past. “So, fancy dinner, huh?”“That’s right, sweetheart,” Negan said, shooting her a sideways glance. “Gotta treat my lady right on our anniversary. Got us reservations and everything.”Amy smirked. “You? Planning ahead?”“Don’t sound so surprised, doll,” he chuckled. “I’m a man of many talents.”They pulled up to Amy’s apartment, she fumbled with her keys before pushing inside, instantly kicking off her shoes and sighing in relief.Negan followed, shutting the door behind him. “Damn, it’s warmer than hell in here.”Amy rolled her eyes. “It’s called heating, Negan. Some of us don’t enjoy freezing our asses off.”He grinned, shedding his leather jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch. Before Amy could say anything else, he grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him, his lips ghosting over her ear.“You wanna skip dinner and stay in?” His voice was low, teasing.Amy laughed, playfully shoving him back. “Tempting, but no. You promised me a fancy dinner, and I’m holding you to it.”Negan sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. But I gotta head to my buddy’s place to get ready.”Amy frowned. “Why not just get ready here?”“My place is getting renovated, remember?” He shot her a wink before grabbing his keys and jacket. “I’ll be back at 5, doll. Get some fuckin' rest and I will see you then.”She shook her head, watching as he disappeared out the door. Something still felt off, but she pushed the thought away. Tonight was supposed to be special. Whatever it was, she’d deal with it later.Checking her living room wall clock, it had just turned seven in the morning. This let Amy know she had at least eight hours to sleep and she could set an alarm to wake her up so she would have two hours to get ready.Moving into her bedroom, she quickly stripped out of her hospital scrubs and pulled on the discarded Fleetwood Mac shirt she used as pyjamas. She didn’t bother putting her hair up, letting it splay across the pillows as she got comfortable. Her eyes fluttered shut, and sleep quickly overtook her.
_________________________________________________________________________Amy woke up with a gasp as a voicemail played from her phone.
“Hey honey, it’s Mom! I haven’t been able to reach you but I just want to remind you that Nicole is graduating soon and she would appreciate you being here. Just wanted to remind you, love you Amanda.”
Amanda…fuck how long has it been since someone has called me that? Amy thought to herself, groaning as she rubbed her face making a mental note to block her mom once more.She was just about to doze off once more but then something startled her…she squinted at the clock behind her head…three o’clock! Amy ripped her sheets off of her and jumped out of bed.Not only did she have barely any time to get ready, but her apartment was a disaster. Dishes piled in the sink, a half-eaten pizza sat on the coffee table, and empty beer bottles littered the counter. She groaned. Great. First, I have to clean, then I have to make myself presentable. No pressure.Wasting no time, her bare feet padded against the floor. She flung open the door to her en-suite bathroom, flicking on the light. The fluorescent glow reflected off the mirror, highlighting her slightly flushed cheeks and the wide, excited glint in her eyes. She barely had time to process how ridiculous she looked before she yanked her oversized sleep shirt over her head and tossed it into the hamper.The shower knob squeaked as she turned it, and within seconds, steaming water cascaded down, filling the bathroom with warm mist. She stepped in, sighing as the heat soothed her nerves. The tension in her shoulders melted away as she let the water pour over her, grounding her in the moment.She went into full-on glow-up mode, grabbing her razor and shaving every inch of her body with precision. Tilting her leg under the spray to check her work. Satisfied, she reached for her best vanilla shampoo, working it into her hair until it foamed. The scent wrapped around her, warm and sweet, making her feel comforted. Conditioner came next, her fingers gliding through the strands until they felt silky smooth.After scrubbing herself with soap and every scrub, gel, and lotion she could find on her shower shelf, she rinsed off, relishing how clean and refreshed she felt. The second she turned off the water, the cool air hit her damp skin, making her shiver. She stepped onto the plush bath mat and wrapped herself in her cheetah-print dressing gown, the fabric soft against her skin. Grabbing an off-white towel from her towel warmer, she twisted it around her hair, securing it at the top of her head.Sliding on the hotel slippers she had stolen from a weekend trip years ago, she padded back into her bedroom, her mind already jumping to the next challenge—finding the perfect outfit.She wanted to set the right mood, something classy yet effortlessly alluring. With that thought, she pressed play on the orange CD player perched on her dresser. A low hum filled the room as the disc spun, and soon, a smooth jazz melody drifted through the air, setting the perfect atmosphere for a fancy night out.While by her dresser she picked out a pair of undies, since the dress was off the shoulder she chose a black strapless bra and a matching pair of knickers. Last minute decision called for a pair of invisible tights, better than getting any blisters from the heels.
Amy turned toward her closet, a looming battlefield of chaos. She pushed the colourful beads that functioned as doors to the side, rummaging past turtleneck sweaters, jean skirts, and mismatched hangers until her fingers brushed against something familiar. She knew exactly what it was before she even pulled it out.Her garment bag.She carefully laid it on her bed, her heart thudding with anticipation. Slowly, she unzipped the black garment bag, revealing a deep red, sparkly, off-the-shoulder dress. She held it up, inspecting the fabric. It shimmered under the soft bedroom light, elegant and daring at the same time.But there was one problem.She had been a few sizes smaller when she bought it years ago. Back then, it had hugged her figure perfectly, but now? It might be a tight squeeze. Still, it was the fanciest dress she owned, and she wasn’t about to settle for anything less. With her mind made up, she tossed the dress onto her chair and turned to the next task—cleaning.She moved with urgency, scooping up old takeout containers and dumping them into the trash, collecting empty beer bottles and tossing them into the recycling bin. She wiped down surfaces, straightened the cushions on her couch, and even lit a vanilla-scented candle to mask any lingering smells.By the time she finished, she was out of breath. Glancing at her old Muppets wall clock, she saw Kermit the Frog staring back at her, the tiny hands of the clock letting her know she had an hour and a half left.
Plenty of time… right?
She sank onto her shag rug in front of her full-length mirror, positioned right by the living room door. Unwrapping the towel from her head, she ran her fingers through her damp hair before reaching for her blow dryer. As the warm air rushed through her strands, she sectioned her hair and rolled each piece into large velcro rollers, securing them with clips. If all went well, she’d have a bouncy, salon-worthy blowout by the time she was finished.Now for the moment of truth—the dress.Standing up, she smoothed her hands down her robe, mentally preparing herself. If she was going to be humbled, she might as well get it over with now. Unzipping the side of the dress, she carefully stepped into it, pulling it up inch by inch. The fabric stretched slightly, but not enough to make it an easy fit. Holding her breath, she sucked in and wiggled, finally managing to zip it closed. She exhaled, glancing at her reflection.The off-the-shoulder sleeves sat snugly around her arms, slightly tighter than she remembered. The deep red fabric hugged her curves, accentuating her figure more than it had when she was a size two. The neckline dipped lower than she expected, exposing a generous amount of cleavage—not that she was complaining. She turned to the side, giving herself one final once-over. The dress was definitely more fitted than before, but she could work with it.Now, makeup! Amy’s favourite part of getting ready. She perched on her chair in front of her vanity, the desktop cluttered with palettes, lipsticks, and mascaras of all kinds.
Makeup didn’t take as long as she expected—she opted for a natural look to avoid overwhelming the outfit.Ten minutes! Ten minutes to pick a matching pair of heels and a bag. For a little extra flair, she grabbed a small black shoulder bag, adorned with a tiny cat keyring. After shoving in her essentials—deodorant, gum, lipstick, perfume, phone, and wallet—she chose a pair of black polka-dot pumps, each toe decorated with a tiny cat face sporting a red bow on its ear.She hopped toward the living room while trying to put them on, nearly toppling over. Just as she thought she was done, she realized—a coat! Spinning on her heel, she rushed back to her room, grabbing her black suede toggle coat, a piece she rarely had the chance to wear.Reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears, she was met with resistance—the rollers!“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Panic surged through her as she sprinted to the nearest mirror by the front door, yanking out the rollers and tossing them onto the couch. She flipped her head forward, shaking out the curls, and to her surprise, they looked amazing. Thankful for small miracles, she grabbed the hairspray she always kept by the door and gave her hair a heavy dose.Knock. Knock. Knock.“Shit! Coming!” Amy called out, heart racing—only to realize she had forgotten her earrings. Dashing back to her bedroom, she grabbed a random pair of silver dangle earrings, shoved them in, and sprinted to the door, nearly slipping on the rug with a squeal.
At the door, she stole one last glance in the mirror, spraying herself generously with perfume from her purse.Deep breath.She opened the door.There he stood—possibly the most handsome she had ever seen him.Negan’s dark hair was slicked back, the gel giving it a polished sheen that caught the light. His black tuxedo fit him like a dream, hugging his broad shoulders and tapering perfectly at his waist. The crisp white button-up underneath contrasted sharply, the top button left undone just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of his chest hair.His usual cocky smirk was in place, but tonight, it felt different—smoother, more deliberate, like he knew exactly the effect he had on her. In his hand, he held a bouquet of tulips—her favourite. The soft petals were a mix of deep crimson and blush pink, wrapped neatly in crisp brown paper and tied with a delicate satin ribbon. The gesture was unexpected, and for a moment, Amy forgot how to breathe.Negan tilted his head, his dark eyes sweeping over her in quiet admiration before he let out a low whistle.
“Damn, sweetheart. You clean up nice.”Amy felt warmth rush to her cheeks, but she quickly masked it with a scoff, crossing her arms. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got?”He chuckled, stepping closer, his cologne—warm, musky, with a hint of spice—wrapping around her like an invisible touch. “Alright, fine. You look absolutely fuckin’ beautiful. So beautiful I almost forgot how to fuckin’ talk.”She rolled her eyes, but the way her lips curled up betrayed her. Negan held the bouquet out to her, his fingers brushing against hers as she took it. His touch was fleeting, but it sent a spark up her arm.“Let me put these in some water.” Amy turned to walk back into her apartment, mouthing oh my god to herself. Grabbing a spare stained glass vase from her kitchen counter, she ran water into the vase and placed the bouquet inside, removing the paper and fanning the flowers out to fill the vase properly. Turning back to face Negan, he was leaning on the doorframe with a smirk still standing on face.“Ready to go, doll?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk.Amy nodded, gripping his arm a little tighter to keep herself grounded. “Yeah… let’s go.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
His name echoed in her mind, a ghost from a past she had tried to forget. Surely, it couldn’t be the same man who had left her heartbroken and battered years ago. The world was vast, even in its apocalyptic ruin—what were the odds?The sun barely peeks over the walls of Alexandria as Amy stirs from her fitful sleep. She's been up most of the night, haunted by memories and the constant threat of danger. As she laces up her boots, there's a knock at her door."Rise and shine, sunshine!" Amy calls out sarcastically. "What can I help you with?"Rick's voice comes through the door, urgent and low. "Amy, we need to move. Maggie's condition is worsening. We're taking her to the Hilltop."Amy's witty façade drops for a moment. "Shit. Give me two minutes."As the group prepares to leave, Amy checks her weapons, her eyes scanning the faces around her. "On the bright side, traffic’s not gonna be a fuckin’ issue. Perks of no civilization, I guess."Glenn, worry etched on his face, manages a weak smile. "Always the optimist, Amy."The journey starts tense but uneventful. Amy rides up front with Abraham and Rick, staying nearer to Maggie to monitor her condition, her sharp eyes watching the road ahead. "You know," she muses, "I almost miss the days when my biggest worry was whether my date would show up."Abraham chuckles. "Well, darlin', your date today might be a herd of walkers. They're punctual, at least."Their banter is cut short as they encounter the first roadblock. Amy's hand instinctively goes to her weapon. "I've got a bad feeling about this." she mutters.As they navigate through increasingly hostile territory, Amy’s unease grows. When they're finally cornered and forced to kneel in the clearing, her worst fears are realized. The air was thick with tension, the surrounding forest unnaturally silent, as if the world itself held its breath.“Alright, we got a full boat. Let's meet the man.” A moustached man said, knocking on the door of the beaten up RV.Amy looked around at the faces of her new found ‘family’. She was knelt in between Maggie and Abraham, two of the closer friends she had. Maggie was shivering, constantly switching her weight between her weak legs. Abraham stood tall, facing forward showing not an ounce of fear.Amy was a bit of both.Kneeling, she rested her weight on her legs, poor choice of clothing today as she wore her trademark khaki shorts and a tank top, a blue button up flannel was thrown haphazardly over her shoulders. Her hair was down, covering her expression which was a mix of panic and anger.Nothing could prepare her for the moment he stepped out of the old battered RV that was sitting in front of them, a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire resting casually on his shoulder, that infamous smirk curling his lips.“Pissin’ our pants yet?” He wandered closer to the group. “Boy, do I have a feelin’ we're getting close.”In that instant, her world tilted. The Negan everyone feared—the man who had brought entire communities to their knees—was the same man who had shattered her heart. She shot her head down, praying he wouldn’t recognize her, and wouldn't single her out. But her pulse thundered in her ears, and she knew he could hear it.“Yep, it's gonna be pee pee pants city here real soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader?” Negan said, his gaze shifting from one person to another. Until landing on Rick.“It's this one, he’s the guy.” The guy with the moustache spoke up, pointing a greasy finger at the man kneeling a couple feet in front of him. Negan let out an exhale as he walked over to Rick. Amy’s heart rate faltered ever so slightly, he was on the opposite side to where she was knelt.Now she could come up with some sort of story? Pretend she wasn't herself, or a doppelganger. Amy debated putting on an accent to throw him off but knowing him, he would recognise her without a doubt.“Hi, you're Rick, right? I'm Negan and I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people.” He pointed at Rick with his gloved hand, eyes widened with an emotion Amy found hard to recognise. “Not cool, not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re going to be up to speed shortly.” Rick trembled, a bead of sweat fell off a strand of his curly hair.“Yea.” Negan nodded. “You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes.” Negan's grin widened, that smile she had been so attracted to all those years ago now made her stomach churn. “Yes you are. You see Rick whatever you do,” He licked his lips. “no matter what, you don't mess with the new world order. The new world order is this, and it's really very simple so even if you're stupid which you very may well be you could understand it.”The sounds of bugs chirping could be heard, Amy was only focused on the ground. The sound of her heartbeat was louder than those bugs, but not as loud as Negan's voice booming into the night sky. “You ready?” Negan questioned, as if mocking Rick. “Here it goes, pay attention.”He removed the baseball bat off his shoulder and now held it with his gloved right hand, the base of the bat barely off the ground. He moved the bat to the side of Rick's head, making him bend his neck out of the way so as to not get pinched by the wire.“Give me your shit or I will kill you.” Negan's voice was laced in venom, he had been joking around before but Amy knew that this was a threat Negan would make good on. Negan grinned, finally moved the bat away from Rick, holding it up while walking down the line of people. “Today was career day, we invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do.” He stopped two steps away from Amy, standing in the middle of the whole group.“You work for me now.” He used that damned bat to point at Rick. “You have shit? You give it to me. That's your job.” He popped his hips out to look at Rick once more, moving back over to him. “Now I know that is a mighty, big, nasty pillow to swallow but swallow it you most certainly will.” Using the bat at the end to emphasise his sentence.“You ruled the roost, you built something. You thought you were safe, I get it but the word is out. You are not safe, not even close. In fact you are pegged, more pegged if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit and if that's too much you can make, find or steal more and it’ll even out sooner or later.”Amy’s heart pounded, desperate to escape the confines of her ribs. She refused to look up, not even for a second, silently counting her lucky stars that Negan had spent more time on the left side of the group, interrogating Rick, rather than near where she knelt. Her knees were reddening—not just from the biting cold but also from the sharp gravel digging into her skin. She dared not move an inch, convinced that even the smallest shift would draw his attention to her.“This is your way of life now.” His arms spread, gesturing to the group as a whole. “The more you fight back the harder it will be.” He starts walking now, his shadow briefly falling over Amy as the heavy lights from the surrounding vehicles are blocked by his figure. “So someone knocks on your door,” He chuckled as he stopped at Daryl who was covered in a beige blanket. “you let us in.” Motioning towards him with his un-gloved hand. “We own that door.”His gaze was fixed back on Rick now, stopping just a few inches from him. “You try to stop us and we will knock it down.” The bat was thrusted back in Rick's face, causing him to recoil ever so slightly in reflex. “You understand?” No answer. Negan being the comic that he is cupped his ear and leant down to Rick, now expecting an answer. “What?” Negan whispered, Rick exhaled deeply through his mouth. “No answer?” He ran his un-gloved hand down his mouth in mock disbelief.Now moving to address the group fully once more. “You don't really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished now did you? I don't wanna kill you people, just wanna make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me,” He pointed at Rick with that stupid bat once more. “you can't do that if you're dead, now can you?” He turned to face away from Rick.“I'm not growing a garden.” Negan jokes, Amy would have chuckled had it been in different circumstances. “But you killed my people, a whole damn lot of them.” He held his un-gloved hand to his heart. “More than I’m comfortable with and for that, for that you’re gonna pay.” He pointed at Rick with his left hand, now scanning around the group. Amy was shocked, astounded if you will, that Negan hasn't even paused while looking at her, she was thankful for that much. But he knew that whatever was going to happen wasn't good.“So now, I am gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you.” Amy forced her eyes closed. She heard the sound of the bat moving around in his hand. “This-this is Lucille,” Amy’s breath hitched, he named the fucking bat after his wife? Amy thought, rage slowly building inside her. “and she is awesome. All of this, all of this just so that we can pick out which one of you gets the honour.” Amy heard his movements in the gravel, stopping at Abraham she held her breath. “I gotta shave this shit.” He joked.
Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, Negan’s gaze landed on her.“Hey darlin’, let me see that pretty face of yours,” Negan crossed his free hand, biting his lower lip. “-fingers crossed. Wouldn’t want to be missin’ out.” Amy didn’t budge, didn’t even make an attempt to adjust the veil that draped down her face like a waterfall.Negan sighed and stepped closer, the gravel crunching underfoot as he tilted her chin up with the bat, the barbed wire piercing her skin. Her hair, once a shield, had been breached, now falling softly to the sides of her face. Recognition flickered in his eyes, swiftly replaced by something darker and predatory. Amy’s heart rate spiked, her eyes watering—a reflex she couldn’t control.His face, once smooth and unlined, now bore the marks of time. A salt-and-pepper beard framed his strong jaw. The silver flecks in his facial hair glinted in the headlights of the surrounding vehicles. Though age had etched deeper lines across his forehead and around his eyes—proof of both laughter and worry—there was no mistaking the man before her. His dimples, those same boyish creases that had always softened his expression, still emerged when he smiled, undiminished by the passage of years. Time had changed his face, but beneath it all, he was still undeniably him.“Well, well, well.” He drawled, his voice dripping with a twisted charm. “Amy fuckin’ Larsson! Small world huh?” He paused, relishing her expression. “Or should I say, small apocalypse?”Amy's breath catches in her throat as she feels a stream of warm blood down her neck, landing on the rubble beneath her. When their eyes finally meet, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Negan's cocky grin falters, surprise flickering across his face before he masks it with his usual bravado.Amy's reply is cold, her defensive walls slamming into place. "Not small enough, apparently.""Feisty as fuckin’ ever," he drawled, that cocky grin spreading across his face. "Damn, I always did love that about you." She stood her ground, eyes locked on his, cool as ice. Negan leaned in close, his breath warm and slow against her ear. "Nothin’ to say? Huh. Funny, 'cause back in then, you couldn’t shut that pretty mouth of yours."Her cheeks burned with humiliation and anger but she didn't flinch. “That was a different time. People change, Negan. You should try it sometime.”A flash of something - regret? anger? - crosses Negan's face, but it's gone in an instant. He turns his attention to the rest of the group. He laughed, a sound that once thrilled her but now sent a shiver down her spine, his voice booming like a thunderclap in the night air.“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce the goddamn blast from my past. Amy here.” He gestured grandly with Lucille, “Was the one that got away. We had some pretty fun fuckin’ times, didn’t we doll?” Amy felt betrayed and hurt, it became apparent on her face—a mix of shame and anger. Negan’s grin turned predatory and began his terrifying game of choosing a victim.Walking over to the other side of the group, he stopped in front of Carl- Rick’s son. Amy didn’t know him well, but it was clear he was Rick’s kid. “You got one of our guns.” He crouched down to get to his level, gripping the pistol in front of Carl. “Wow, you got a lot of our guns.”Amy refused to look up, the disappointment from her new found friends was palpable in the air. Carl narrowed his eyes at Negan. “Shit kid lighten up, at least cry a little.” Carl stared at the man with unfathomable amounts of rage. Negan chuckled as he rose and shoved the barrel of the gun in the front of his trousers, pulling his leather jacket over it. He cleared his throat as he wandered back over, this time stopping at Maggie.“Je-sus you look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now.” He said, raising Lucille skyward.“No!” The voice, unmistakably Glenn's, shouted. He charged at Negan but was swiftly intercepted by one of Negan's men, who knocked him down with a barrage of kicks and punches.“Stop it!” Maggie cried with all her strength, as a guy with greasy blonde hair and a huge scar pointed a familiar crossbow at Glenn’s temple. Glenn struggles against him, incoherently yelling at him. Negan on the other hand looked bored, scratching his upper lip with his finger.“Nope. Nope, get him back in line.” Negan ordered, as the greasy blonde dragged Glenn to his original spot, who fought him the entire way. Glenn's sobs echoed through the quiet forest; as heart-breaking as they were, Amy refused to cry. She heard Glenn beg—begging him not to kill his wife. Then Negan’s psychotic laugh, followed by an exhale.“Alright listen, don't any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions.” He commanded. “First one’s free, it's an emotional moment,” Negan turned towards Glenn, biting his lower lip and pointing. “I get it.” Amy's ears were filled with the group's whimpers and sobs. Maggie was trying desperately to hold herself together, while Abe stood as tall as ever. “Sucks, doesn't it? The moment you realise you don't know shit.” Negan stood staring at Rick until something clicked in his brain. Turning towards Carl, pointing Lucille in his face he chuckled. “It’s your kid, right?” He laughed. “This is definitely your kid!” Negan nodded.“Just stop this!” Rick finally spoke up, about time Amy thought.“Hey! Do not make me kill the little future serial killer!” He waved his hands theatrically. “Don't make it easy on me. I gotta pick somebody. Everybody’s at the table waiting for me to order.” He sang. Out of nowhere, Negan began to whistle, the soft tune cutting through the tense silence. “I simply cannot decide.” He rubbed his eyebrows in frustration but his tone seemed playful. “I got an idea.” His grin stretched as wide as the Cheshire Cat's. Licking his lips, he pointed Lucille directly at Rick. “Eeny.” is he fucking serious? Amy questioned. “Meeny.” Maggie. “Miny.” Abraham. “Moe.” Michonne. “Catch.” Rick. “A tiger.” Daryl. “By his toe.” Abraham. “If.” Sasha. “He hollers.” Aaron. “Let him go.” Amy. The rest of the song went by like a blur until Negan's enthusiastic voice said-
“It!”
Amy’s eyes clenched closed, bracing for impact. “Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell you're all gonna be doing that.” WHACK. Amy felt a spray of blood on the right side of her face. She shook, attempting to keep her composure. Abraham laid on the ground before rising once more, standing tall.“Oh look at that! Takin’ it like a champ!” Negan laughed triumphantly as he took a step back.“Suck. My. Nuts.” THWAP. Lucille cuts through the night air like a knife as Negan pounds her back onto his head. Abraham was down now, Negan was relentless. Every survival instinct that Amy had was telling her to look, to cry, to do something to help. She dismissed that and stared at the ground which was quickly flooding with blood. Constant splashes of blood hit her, now the front of her face. She refused to look startled or shocked- that's exactly what he wants from them.The sound of Negan's laughter quickly pulled her from her racing thoughts. “Did you hear that? He said ‘Suck my nuts’! Phew.” Negan did a bad imitation of Abe, breathing heavily. The mixture of sobs and laughter were an unsettling sound. Another hit. More sobs. More blows land. Maggie was hunched over now, sobbing uncontrollably. Amy could now see Michonne, standing as tall as Abe was. However Abe was now flattened onto the gravel between them. Amy finally looked up, Negan's eyes were that of a feral animal. Negan didn't stop.“Oh my goodness! Look at this!” Negan swung Lucille around, Abe’s blood splattering on Rick's face. Negan chuckled once more. “You guys, look at my dirty girl!” Negan showed Lucille off like a trophy, moving her around the group but taking notice of Rosita who’s eyes were wide, refusing to look anywhere near him.“Sweetheart…lay your eyes on this.” He shoved Lucille into Rosita's face, blood dripping off and onto her legs. She didn't move her eyes. “Oh, damn.” He pointed with Lucille. “Were you— were you together? That sucks.” Rosita's eyes were still stuck on an area in front of her, ignoring Negan, Lucille was now back in her face. “But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this. Red— and hell, he was, is, and will ever be red.” He quipped. Popping out his hips yet again. “He just took one or six or seven for the team!” Negan yelled.“So take…a damn look.” Thrusting Lucille back into Rosita’s face. She breathed shakily.“Take a damn look!” Negan Bellowed. All of a sudden Daryl shot up, punching a right hook into Negan’s jaw. A group of saviours came in to settle it, one pulling Daryl away, another putting himself between the two. Daryl was wrestled to the ground as Negan was grinning while massaging his sore jaw.“Daryl!” Rick shouted over the chaos.“No!” His grin faltered for the first time in the night, turning into something of pure rage. “Oh, no.” He chuckled. “That? Oh, my! That? Is a no-no. The whole thing– not one bit of that shit flies here.” One of Daryl's apprehenders released as the greasy blonde came up in his place, holding the crossbow over his forehead.“Do you want me to do it?” The greasy mop-head asked his leader. “Right here.” The greasy man spoke. Negan grabbed a fist full of Daryl's hair, then let go.“No, you don't kill them…not until you try a little.” Negan smiled condescendingly. That made the blonde man's shoulders slouch in disappointment, moving the crossbow and grabbing Daryl by his arm. With the help from another two saviours, he was dragged back to his spot in line.“And anyway, that’s not how it works. Now I already told you people, first one’s free, then – what’d I say? I said I would shut that shit down!” His smile sent shivers down Amy’s back. “No exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of lying assholes you’ve been dealing with…but im a man of my word. First impressions are important.” He made momentary eye contact with Amy, grinning wider.“I need you to know me. So…” He held Lucille out in front of him, examining her. “Back to it!” Nothing could have prepared her for what had happened next. Glenn was Negan's next target. Clobbering him over the head with Lucille. Amy wanted so badly to reach out to Maggie, to pull her eyes away from what was unfolding. Or to punch Negan herself but she knew that wouldn't have done them any good."No!" Maggie screamed, grief crashing over her like a wave. Gasps rippled through the clearing as Glenn groaned, each laboured breath a struggle. Blood flowed down his face, a crimson river."Buddy, you still there?" Negan's voice oozed cruelty as he stepped closer, Lucille tucked behind his back. He leaned down toward Glenn, a twisted grin on his face. "I don't know... seems like you're trying to speak, but you just took one hell of a hit." He chuckled darkly, eyes glinting. "I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball popped out. It's gross as shit."Maggie’s face twisted in anguish."Maggie, I'll find you." Glenn rasped, struggling for breath.Negan's grin widened. "Oh, hell. I can see this is tough for you guys. Sorry, I really am. But I did say it." He raised Lucille once more. "No exceptions!" BAM.He sneered, his voice dripping with disappointment. "You bunch of pussies. But I'm just gettin' started."He swung again, the sickening sound of the bat connecting echoing through the clearing. "Lucille's thirsty," he laughed, shaking the bat. "She's a vampire bat." A chunk of Glenn’s flesh hung from Lucille’s end, grotesque and dripping, as Negan pointed toward the others with twisted satisfaction. Amy’s stomach threatened to compress, swallowing the saliva she had could tide her over.“What? Was the joke that bad?” Negan questioned the group, a hint of sarcasm laced his voice. Yes Amy thought“I’m gonna kill you.” Rick said, his voice only just comprehensible. Negan walked over, crouching in front of him Lucille proudly displayed in front of him.“What?” He whispered to Rick. “I didn't quite catch that. You’re gonna have to speak up.”Rick sniffed then spoke. “Not today…not tomorrow…but I'm gonna kill you.” Negan inhaled sharply, examining Rick's face.“Jesus.” He exhaled. “Simon, what did he have, a knife?” Negan asked one of his henchmen, not breaking eye contact.“Uh, he had a hatchet.” Negan blinked in confusion, now looking at Simon."A hatchet?" An amused smile tugged at Negan's lips as he tilted his head. He licked his lips slowly before continuing. “Simon’s my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without them? A whole lotta work.” He paused, eyes flicking over the group. "Do you have one? Maybe one of these fine folks still breathing?"He inhaled deeply, savouring the tension in the air. "Oh... or did I..." He clicked his tongue, making a playful bat-like motion with Lucille.Rick's face was a mask of pure hatred, his silence speaking louder than words."Sure. Yeah. Give me his axe." Negan's voice was a sharp command. Simon approached, footsteps crunching through the gravel, and handed Negan Rick's axe. It had a black head with an oak handle. Negan studied it with his hands for a moment, his eyes never leaving Rick’s.With a grin, he stood, sliding the axe handle down his belt. "I’ll be right back." His voice was almost casual as he grabbed Rick by the collar of his coat, dragging him to his feet. "Maybe Rick will come along. If not… well, we can always turn these people inside out, can't we?"Negan dragged Rick through the gravel, the man thrashing like a cat in water, desperate to break free. "I mean… the ones that are left," he added with a mock-sympathetic tone.
He shoved Rick into the RV, slamming the door behind him with a final, echoing thud.The RV sped off, leaving both groups without a leader. Amy closed her eyes deciding against moving or speaking as there were still a lot of saviours surrounding everyone, probably to keep everyone in line._________________________________________________________________________Amy was exhausted as was probably everyone else, keeping awake was her main priority. The pain in her knees had gone numb as did the heavy scratch under her chin. In a way she was thankful for her choice of attire as the cool breeze kept her alert.
The hours Rick and Negan were gone felt like centuries. It was finally sunlight, she never thought she would be pleased to see him again.Rick was pushed out of the beaten up RV, holding his axe. Negan dragged him back into the group. Instead of putting him back in his space, he left him in the centre of the group.“Here we are. Let me ask you something Rick– do you even know what that little trip was about?” No answer again, Negan sighed loudly. “Speak when you’re spoken to.”“Okay. Okay.” Was all that Rick managed to get out.“That trip was because of the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand.” He smiled widely, his dimples now apparent in the sunlight. “But you’re still looking at me the same damn way…like I shit in your scrambled eggs and that’s not gonna work. So…” He crouched down next to Rick. “Do I give you another chance?” Rick's breath was raggedy as he nodded.“Yeah. Yes.” Negan patted Rick on the back."Okay." Negan chuckled, his grin widening. "Alright. And here it is—the grand prize." He smiled widely, savouring the tension. "What happens next is simple. Your crap day can either become everyone’s last crap day, or just another one of those crap days." He flicked his wrist nonchalantly. "Get some guns to the back of their heads."The person behind Amy was furious, the cold barrel of a gun pressing into the back of her head. She let out a grunt from the force."Good. Now… aim level with their noses, so if you have to fire… pew!" Negan mimicked an explosion, the sound exaggerated. "It’ll be a real mess."He scanned the group with a sickening sense of amusement. "Kid." He waved Carl over with a single finger. Amy’s heart sank in her chest."Right here, kid. Now." Carl slowly rose and walked over, stopping a few feet in front of Negan."Are you a southpaw?" Negan asked, casually removing his belt."Am I a what?" Carl spat, anger sharp in his voice."A lefty?" Negan repeated, not missing a beat."No." Carl growled, his fists clenched."Good." Negan smiled, tightening his belt around Carl’s upper left arm. "That hurt?" he asked, checking the fit."No." Carl’s voice was low but defiant."It should." Negan’s smile never faltered. "It’s supposed to."He clapped Carl on the shoulder before leaning in closer. "Alright, kid. Get down on the ground, next to Daddy. Spread those wings." He laughed, yanking Carl’s sheriff’s hat off and tossing it behind him. Carl hesitated but complied, dropping to the gravel next to his father, lying stomach down."Simon… you got a pen?" Negan called, glancing over his shoulder. Amy’s stomach twisted in confusion. Was he serious?"Yeah," Simon muttered, clearly uncomfortable, but dug a black marker from his pocket. He threw it underhand to Negan, who caught it easily.Opening the cap with his teeth, Negan grinned at Carl. Groaning as he squatted down next to him. "Sorry, kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s ballsack." He pulled up his flannel shirt sleeve, leaning over Carl with mock seriousness. "Just like he was hanging his balls above you and dragging them right across the forearm." He drew a line across Carl’s forearm with the marker."There you go," he said with a satisfied nod, stepping back. "Gives you a little leverage."Carl clenched his teeth, trying to stay still as Negan turned his gaze to Rick. The pleading in Rick’s eyes only seemed to amuse him more.“Please don't.” Rick begged in a whisper. “Please don't.”“Me? I ain't doing shit.” Negan stood, “Ahhh…Rick, I want you to take your axe…cut your son’s left arm off, right on that line. Now I know- I know, you're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies…then the people back home die…and then you, eventually.” Rick kept shaking his head. “I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it.”“You–you don't have to do this.” Surprisingly Michonne spoke up, Negan's gaze now on her. “We understand, we understand.” She repeated, smiling trying to appear friendly.“You understand. Yeah. I’m not sure that Rick does.” Tilting his head towards rick. Crouching back down “I want a clean cut. Right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice– nothing messy, clean, 45 degrees, give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid’ll be fine. Probably.” Negan smirked. “Rick…this needs to happen now– chop, chop– or I will crush the little fella’s skull myself.” Negan said, resting his un-gloved hand on Rick's shoulder.“It can – it can – it can be me.” Rick said, his voice quivering. “It can be me. W-w–” Rick sniffed. “Y-you can do it to me. I c-I can go with – with you.”“No.” Standing up. “This is the only way. Rick…pick up the axe.” He was starting to get impatient. “Not making a decision is a BIG decision! You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing.” He blinked and looked around. “Oh my god! Are you gonna make me count? Okay Rick. You win. I am counting.” Rick was inconsolable. “3” Negan commanded.“Please.” Rick pleaded. “It can be me. Please!”“2!” Negan crouched and yelled in his face.“Please, don't do–” Negan slapped him, which didn't seem to stop his crying. Negan grabbed his face with his gloved hand.“This is it.” Negan shoved his head slightly, leaving Rick screaming on the floor as Negan said- “1!” Rick held the axe but didn't move it from the floor.“Dad…just do it.” Carl said, calm as can be. Rick raised the axe, then Negan crouched down to Rick's level.“You answer to me.” Negan said calmly. Rick nodded furiously. “You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?” Rick nodded. “Speak when you’re spoken to!” Negan grabbed his face once more. “You answer to me. You provide for me.”“Provide for you.” Rick repeated.“You belong to me, right?!”“Right.” Rick repeated.“Right.” Negan pointed at Rick, letting go of his face. “That...is the look I wanted to see.” He stood up, taking the axe with him. “We did it, all of us, together…even the dead guys on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure. Today was a productive damn day!” He sighed. “Now, I hope, for all your sake…that you get it now…that you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you…that is” He chuckled “over now. Ah Dwight, Simon. Load them up.” Pointing at Daryl and Amy with Lucille. Amy's heart sank, she thought she was off scot free but apparently not.Simon grabbed Amy by her upper arms. Through her exhaustion she managed to kick and thrash around. Simon being 6’1 he had the advantage, Amy still managed to punch him in the jaw, knocking him back slightly. Another saviour came and grabbed Amy’s other arms. She kept shouting frantically, begging them to get off, her voice shaking with fear and frustration“Hey, be careful with the woman.” Negan warned. She got chucked into the back of the same van Daryl had been thrown in. Amy tried to scramble out but the doors were slammed in her face. Knocking her back slightly, it was noticeable that Daryl didn't want to talk.Amy couldn't hear the goings on outside, but she and Daryl had sat in the back corners of the van. Amy's head was in her arms, her knees up to her chest. This was a better time than any to try to get a wink of rest, god knows she won't be getting any time soon.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Amy blinked awake, the shrill ringing cutting through the heavy fog of sleep. Her body felt warm and heavy, but the noise was relentless. She groaned, shifting slightly before lazily stretching out her leg and kicking at the solid warmth beside her.“Negan, wake up.” She mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Your phone is ringing.”Negan let out a low grunt in response, barely moving. Instead, he shifted just enough to press a sleepy, half-conscious kiss against her bare shoulder. His body radiated heat, and for a moment, Amy let herself sink back into it, her mind floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.She reluctantly cracked one eye open, reaching for her own phone on the nightstand. The slight glow of the screen illuminated the dark room.
5:43 AM.
Amy furrowed her brows, blinking against the brightness. Who the hell calls at this hour? A wave of exhaustion pressed down on her again, and for a moment, she debated ignoring it. But the ringing persisted—shrill, insistent.Last night felt like a blur. After dinner, they had come back to her place, full and content, both of them savouring the rare quiet of an evening without chaos. She could still remember the way Negan had laughed as she unlocked the door, his arms wrapping around her from behind, his breath warm against her neck.“You know.” He had murmured, lips brushing her skin, “I don’t know how you always manage to fuckin’ con me into ordering dessert when I swear I’m full.”Amy had grinned, twisting in his hold. “It’s not a con if you enjoy it, babe.”Negan had smirked, shaking his head as she pulled him inside. The rest of the night had unravelled effortlessly, with both of them sharing a bed once more. Now, the peaceful haze of sleep was being shattered by that damn phone. Amy groaned again, rolling onto her stomach as she nudged Negan harder this time.“Negan.” She repeated, voice muffled against the pillow. “Answer it.”Negan let out a long exhale before finally shifting. He reached blindly toward the nightstand, fingers fumbling for the still-ringing device. His movements were sluggish, as if his body was fighting to stay asleep. Amy watched as he finally brought the phone closer, squinting at the screen through half-lidded eyes. A beat of silence. Then, his body tensed."Shit." He muttered under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face before answering.Amy’s drowsiness evaporated instantly. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, her heart picking up speed."Who is it?" She asked, her voice no longer groggy but laced with curiosity and a hint of concern.Negan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pressed the phone to his ear, his expression darkening."Hey." His eyes widened ever so slightly, making Amy’s stomach knot. He stood from the bed and walked into the living room, shutting the door behind him.Amy sat up, pulling the duvet around her chest and reaching for the bedside lamp. She sat against the headboard, her mind racing to the worst possibilities. Picking at her cuticles, she tried to ground herself while she anxiously waited for him to return. Through the door, she could hear only muffled voices, but she could tell Negan was pacing—and getting frustrated.Then, suddenly, the door swung open. Negan rushed inside, already pulling on his jeans.Amy bolted upright. "What the hell happened?" Her brain jumped to conclusions all too quickly."Nothing to worry your pretty head about." Negan said, yanking on his shirt. "Just a friend stranded at a bar. Gotta go pick him up."Amy exhaled, letting her body relax as she slid back under the covers. "That scared the shit out of me, good god." She chuckled."Gonna head off now. Happy anniversary, doll." Negan waddled over, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead."Have fun." She laughed, rolling over.She ignored the creeping dread pooling in her stomach and let sleep take her once more._________________________________________________________________________Morning came way too fast for Amy’s liking. Sunday meant grocery shopping and tackling whatever chores she hadn’t gotten to yet.It also reminded her about the voicemail from her mom a few days ago. Maybe she should call back… but she already knew what it was about. Nicole. It was always about Nicole. Amy sighed. This was a mess. Screw it. She wasn’t calling Mom, but she could call Nicole. Maybe her sister would be a little more forgiving about this whole situation. Before she could second-guess herself, she grabbed her phone and hit dial. The ringing felt like it was mocking her, stretching on forever until…“Amanda? Why the hell are you calling so early?” Nicole’s groggy voice mumbled through the speaker.Amy snorted. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”“Ugh. It is not morning yet.” Nicole grumbled. “What do you want?”Amy hesitated. “Uh… Mom called me the other day. Said you’re graduating soon.”“Yep. And you should definitely come. I haven’t seen you in, what, a million years?”Amy groaned. “Nikki, don’t exaggerate.”“I’m not exaggerating. You’re practically a ghost. Why don’t you ever come home?”“You know why.” Amy muttered. “You’re literally the only person in the family I can tolerate. Plus, you guys live a thirteen hour drive away.”“Excuses, excuses.” Nicole sighed. “But seriously, please tell me you’ll come.”Amy hesitated, then smirked. “Yep. I’ll use my annual leave days. Booking the ticket right now.”“Wait, really?!”“Uh-huh.” She scribbled on a sticky note. “Totally.”“You better not be lying.”Amy laughed. “I’d never lie to my favourite sibling.”“Yeah, yeah. I’m your only sibling.” Nicole yawned. “Alright, I’m going back to sleep. Love you.”“Love you too, brat. Talk later.”Amy hung up, staring at the note in her hand. Well… shit. Now she actually had to go.“Damn it.” Amy whispered to herself, another thing to worry about.
_______________________________________________________“So yeah, I’m gonna be gone for a week.” Amy told Negan, picking up a slice of pepperoni pizza and bringing it to her mouth.Tonight was a change of scenery. Instead of hanging out at Amy’s apartment, they were at Negan’s—well, his ‘buddy’s’ house. Apparently, said buddy needed someone to house-sit, so there she was, sprawled across the pristine white L-shaped sofa, her legs resting on Negan’s knees. The fireplace crackled beneath the mounted TV, which was playing her all-time favourite movie, 13 Going on 30.Amy couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this place was off. No photos, no personal effects—just the usual furniture and a few of the buddy’s wife’s clothes in the bedroom and bathroom. It was almost too neat.She wanted to believe Negan was telling the truth, but let’s be honest—he’d been acting sketchy for weeks. Leaving early in the morning, taking frantic phone calls… It all pointed to something being off. And yet, he hadn’t actually given her any real reason to think he was cheating. He was still as loving and attentive as ever. Maybe she was just overthinking things. Right?“Doll, I don’t know how I’ll last that long without you.” He joked, leaning in to kiss her.She shoved him playfully. “Oh, shut up! Actually, shut up—this is one of my favourite parts!” She squealed as the Thriller scene came on. “I would do ungodly things for Jenna’s dress.”“Seriously?”Amy nodded sharply, taking another bite of pizza. “You’re my Matty.” she said matter-of-factly. “Like, in another life, this is us. We were best friends in middle school, I wished to be thirty, flirty, and thriving on my thirteenth birthday, met older you, realized we weren’t friends anymore because I was a bitch, fell in love, went back to my childhood home, saw you getting married, wished to fix everything, and bam—back to the ‘80s, met younger you, still loved you, and then we got married and lived in a cute little house.”She sighed dramatically, sinking deeper into the couch.Negan raised an eyebrow. “That’s… a lot.”“Yeah, well, it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” She said, reaching for another slice.“When are you leaving for New York?” Negan asked, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a hint of something else.“End of next month. Why?” Amy replied between bites of her pizza, barely glancing at him as she reached for her Diet Coke.“Nah, nothin’. Just curious.” Negan muttered, scratching his upper lip in a way that suggested there was more on his mind than he was letting on.Amy narrowed her eyes at him, studying his face for a moment, trying to read between the lines. But after a brief pause, she let it go, turning her attention back to the movie playing on the screen. The flickering light from the TV cast shifting shadows across the room, but the unspoken tension between them lingered, hanging in the air like an unfinished thought.
_______________________________________________________The month had flown by faster than Amy could have imagined. It felt like only yesterday that she had agreed to this trip, but now there was no backing out—not when her bags were packed, her flight was booked, and the reality of leaving had settled in. Her small suitcase sat neatly zipped, half-filled with clothes and toiletries, leaving just enough room for the souvenirs she planned to collect on her New York adventures. Her backpack, however, was stuffed to the brim—pushed to the absolute limit of what the airline would allow—so she wouldn’t have to spend an extra dime on baggage fees.Dressed for comfort, Amy had chosen a hot pink tracksuit set, with a white tank top underneath. Her boots were securely fastened on her feet, not because they completed the look, but because they simply wouldn’t fit in her suitcase. Makeup was the last thing on her mind at this ungodly hour, so she skipped it entirely, sliding on her oversized square-framed blue light glasses instead. With a quick twist of her wrist, she pulled her hair into a messy bun, not bothering to smooth out the stray strands.Triple-checking her belongings, she ran through a mental list—passport, wallet, phone, earbuds. Satisfied, she shoved her phone into her pocket, made a mental note to keep track of her earbuds, and took one last look around her apartment. With a deep breath, she stepped into the cold morning air, wrestling her suitcase through the door. It barely fit through the frame, and she let out a frustrated grunt before finally making it out. Turning back, she locked up and made her way toward the elevator.Amy had debated driving herself to the airport, but the thought of paying for long-term parking made her cringe. A cab was the more sensible choice. The ride was quick, the city still half-asleep, and the streets bathed in the dim glow of streetlights. The sun had yet to rise, but this was the price she paid for wanting to explore New York at its liveliest.Security was, as always, a tedious process—slow, uneventful, and draining—but at least she got through without issue. With a few hours to kill before her flight, she treated herself to a coffee and a doughnut from Starbucks, savouring the warmth against the early morning chill. She wandered the airport afterward, taking in the sights of busy travellers and overpriced duty-free shops, but before long, it was time to board.Flying had never been Amy’s favourite thing, but she had her own ways of coping. As soon as she settled into her seat, she popped in her earbuds and let the Little Shop of Horrors soundtrack loop in the background, the familiar tunes calming her nerves. The flight was short, and before she knew it, the pilot was announcing their descent.The moment they landed in New York, Amy joined in on the light applause for the pilots before unbuckling her seatbelt and pulling her luggage from the overhead bin. Stepping off the plane, she was quick to text her sister:
You: landed, see you soon!
Nicole’s graduation was on Saturday, which meant Amy had nearly a full week to live out her romcom-fuelled dreams in the city. Broadway shows, famous food spots, movie landmarks—she was determined to soak in every bit of it. And for the first time in a while, her thoughts weren’t clouded by worry over Negan.By the time Saturday rolled around, Amy stood in her small hotel room, slipping into a vintage-inspired 1950s pencil dress. She curled her hair lightly, letting the soft waves frame her face before giving herself a final once-over in the mirror. The graduation itself was, as expected, long and monotonous, but when Nicole’s name was called, Amy made sure she was the loudest voice in the crowd, cheering at the top of her lungs.At the end of the graduation ceremony, Nicole sprinted toward Amy, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace.“Ohhh, I am so proud of you!” Amy’s voice was muffled as she buried her face in Nicole’s hair, swaying her from side to side.Nicole hugged her just as tightly. “Thank you for coming!” She said, her voice bright with excitement. Then, catching sight of her mother in the crowd, her eyes lit up, and she pulled away. “Mom!”Amy watched as Nicole ran off, her heart sinking. For fuck’s sake. Before she could slip away, she appeared hand in hand with Nicole.“Amanda, honey!” The woman’s voice was warm, as she stepped forward and wrapped Amy in a hug. Amy didn’t move. Her arms remained stiff at her sides, her body rigid.“Mom.” She said, the word a cold weight on her tongue. She clenched her jaw, staring at the woman who had caused her so much pain. The constant criticism, the screaming matches, the nights she was kicked out with nowhere to go—all of it crashed over her like a tidal wave. Fury burned in her chest, threatening to swallow her whole.“Oh, honey, won’t you join us for dinner? We’re all going out to celebrate!” Her mother beamed at her, just as her father stepped up beside her.Amy barely had a second to breathe before his voice cut through the air like a knife.“Amanda.” Cold. Detached.She clenched her jaw. Goddammit, give me a break.“Dad.” She replied, matching his tone.Her mother, either oblivious or determined to push through the tension, tried again. “So, dinner?”Amy exhaled sharply. “If you’re paying, sure.”The restaurant was a high-end Italian place—linen tablecloths, dim lighting, a menu with no prices. Amy made a point of ordering a cocktail, letting the alcohol take the edge off.When the food arrived, her lasagne was still steaming, the melted cheese bubbling at the edges. They sat at a round table: Nicole to her left, her father to her right, and her mother directly across from her. A perfect little trap. Amy took a long sip of her fruity cocktail, savouring the slight burn of liquor, and picked up her fork. Just as she was about to take a bite, someone cleared their throat.Her mother.“So, Amy, how have you been? It’s been years since you came home.” She twirled a strand of spaghetti around her fork, watching Amy closely.Amy speared a piece of lasagne and shrugged. “Fine.”“No husband yet? Shame.” Her mother remarked, barely glancing up from her plate.Amy rolled her eyes, already exhausted. “I’ll have you know, I have a boyfriend.”The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Shit. Now they’d never let it go. Gasps erupted from both her mother and sister.“Oh my God, really?!” Her sister squealed, practically vibrating in her seat.Amy sighed, knowing there was no escape now. “Yeah… we’ve been dating for a year.”“A year? And you never told us?” Her mother’s eyes widened as she set her fork down.Amy shrugged, taking another sip of her cocktail. “Didn’t think it was relevant.”Her sister practically bounced in her chair. “What’s his name? What does he do? Do you have pictures? When do we get to meet him?”Amy resisted the urge to groan. This is why I don’t tell them anything. She forced a casual smile. “His name is Negan. He’s a gym teacher. And no, you’re not meeting him.”Her mother scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “A teacher? That’s… nice.”There it was. The thinly veiled judgment. The barely hidden disappointment.Amy stabbed her lasagne a little harder than necessary. “Yeah, it is. He’s great.”Her mother hummed, unconvinced, but her sister was still grinning. “You have got to show me a picture!”Amy sighed and pulled out her phone, scrolling until she found a decent one. As she handed it over, she felt a strange knot in her stomach—because she knew exactly what was coming next.Her sister snatched the phone eagerly, her eyes lighting up as she stared at the screen.“Oh my God, he’s hot.” She practically squealed, shoving the phone toward their mother.Amy’s stomach twisted as her mother took it, adjusting her glasses. A tense silence stretched between them before she let out a noncommittal hum and handed the phone back.“He looks… decent.” She said.Amy clenched her jaw. Of course. Nothing was ever good enough.Her father, who had remained silent up until now, finally spoke. “A teacher, huh? Doesn’t make much money, does he?”Amy exhaled sharply, setting her fork down. “Jesus, Dad, is that all you care about?”He shrugged. “Just being realistic. You want a man who can provide.”Amy let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, well, I provide for myself, so I think I’ll survive.”Her sister shifted uncomfortably, but their mother pressed on. “It’s just… you’re not getting any younger, Amanda. If this is serious, you should start thinking about your future. Marriage, children—”Amy held up a hand. “Nope. We’re not doing this.” She took a long sip of her cocktail, willing the alcohol to numb her frustration. “I told you about him because you asked, not because I wanted your opinions.”Her mother sighed as if Amy was being difficult on purpose. “We just worry about you, sweetheart.”Amy shoved her plate away, her appetite vanishing. “Well, don’t. I’m happy—happier than I’ve been in a long time.”Her mother tilted her head. “What about Adam?” Amy froze. The name hit her like a slap.“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” She shot back, her voice sharp.“Amanda!” Her father barked, his tone laced with warning.She let out a bitter laugh. “Nope. I can’t do this.”Pushing her chair back, she stood abruptly, grabbing her coat and purse. She caught her sister’s gaze and mouthed a silent sorry before turning on her heel and striding toward the exit. The cold night air bit at her skin as she stepped outside, but she barely felt it. Her mind was racing. Adam. She hadn’t thought about him in years. Why the hell would her mother bring him up now?Shaking her head, she spotted a small bench near the restaurant’s entrance and sank onto it. Her hands trembled slightly as she dug her phone out of her purse. She scrolled through her contacts until she found his name. Negan. Without hesitating, she pressed dial.
Ring… Ring… Ring…
No answer. Her stomach twisted. She tried again. And again. On the fourth call, it went straight to voicemail.
“Hey, this is Negan. I’m busy doin’ shit. Call back later.”
Amy clenched her jaw. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she muttered under her breath, her pulse pounding in her ears. It is barely 7 o’clock. What the hell was he doing?...maybe he lost his phone or something? Amy tried to reason with herself. One more time. Just one more. She hit dial, gripping the phone tightly.This time, someone picked up.But it wasn’t Negan.“Hello?” …A woman’s voice.Amy’s breath caught in her throat. No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening right now.She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. “H-Hi. Sorry if I have the wrong number, but I’m trying to reach Negan Smith?”A brief pause. Then—“Oh! Yep, this is his wife, Lucille. He’s in the shower right now. Can I take a message?”Amy’s entire world tilted.
Wife.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Amy was jolted awake by the sudden lurch of the van. Blinking groggily, she peeled her eyes open and glanced at her fellow captive. Daryl was already awake; he had been the whole time. She wasn’t sure how long that had been, but judging by how rested she felt, the journey must have lasted a few hours.Suddenly, the van doors swung open, and the Saviors appeared, their guns glinting menacingly. They barked orders, demanding them to step out. Amy, defiant as ever, stayed planted in the back corner, refusing to budge. She knew they wouldn’t actually shoot—it was just another scare tactic.Daryl crawled out of the van like some twisted version of Gollum, his movements slow and deliberate. Amy held her ground.Simon, the Savior she recognized as the one who had shoved her into the van, now sported a darkening bruise on his jaw. His patience snapped. With a growl, he lunged forward and grabbed her leg. Amy lashed out instinctively, her foot connecting with a satisfying thud before he yanked her from the van.Amy’s feet connected to concrete, a rifle of sorts pressed to her back. Her eyes now fully adjusting to the change in brightness she looked up in awe, seeing a massive factory. Amy stood still, her breath catching as she finally laid eyes on the Sanctuary. The structure dominated the barren landscape, its hulking factory walls rising like a monument to despair. Rust-coloured bricks and streaks of grime painted the building in layers of decay.A towering chain-link fence encircled the complex, its barbed wire coiled like serpents along the top. In the distance, she could see the silhouettes of crude guard towers, their inhabitants just shadows against the faint light filtering through the clouds. The space between the outer fence and the main building was eerily still, but she didn’t have to see what was hidden there to feel the weight of it pressing against her chest.The ground beneath her feet was dry and cracked, broken by patches of stubborn weeds. Scattered among the cracks in the concrete were remnants of struggles long past—bits of twisted metal and what might have been a bloodstain darkened to near-black. The air smelled of rust and ash, with a faint sourness she couldn’t quite place but didn’t want to think about too much.“Move woman.” Simon commanded, leading Amy through the large, garage-like doors of the loading dock, revealing shadowy depths within. Inside, the dim fluorescent-lit hallways feel oppressively narrow. The walls are painted in faded grey and yellow industrial hues, streaked with grime and smudges. The air feels even heavier here, tinged with the distant echo of dripping water and muffled voices. Flickering lights overhead buzz intermittently, adding to the eerie ambiance.As they’re marched further, the distant sounds of activity in the main hall fade, replaced by a chilling silence. They pass by the cafeteria, where trays and scraps of food lay abandoned on metal tables. The smells of stale bread and grease linger in the air, making Amy feel queasy.Soon, Simon leads Amy down a corridor, lined with doors. Simon stops suddenly, unlocking the door with a key he fished from his pocket. Amy thought of different ways she could escape from this situation, but even before she could think the door opened and she was shoved into the cells, the clang of the metal door shut. Amy heard the sound of locking, she was in complete darkness other than the strip of light showing from under the door. Amy peeked under the door, not seeing much other than the concrete of the floor.“Damn it!” Amy got up and started to bang on the door, hoping it would attract some sort of attention. She yelled out in frustration. Amy thought of reasons why she would be there, the only one that she could conjure up was because of Negan. She wasn't the talk of the town nor did she know what Rick’s plans were.The cold concrete of the Sanctuary’s cell pressed into Amy’s back as she curled into the corner, using her flannel as a makeshift blanket against the chill. The faint, jarring notes of "Easy Street" echoed down the hall, a harsh reminder that Daryl was enduring torment, just a few cells away. Amy had learned quickly that no one was coming to help her, so she might as well try to find some rest. She hugged her knees to her chest, her head resting against the cold wall as she closed her eyes, praying for sleep to take her, even if just for a moment.
_________________________________________________________________________The door to his private quarters slammed shut with enough force to rattle the walls. Negan placed Lucille onto the leather couch, his hands trembling slightly as he poured himself a generous glass of whiskey. The amber liquid burned down his throat, but it did nothing to wash away the image of those familiar eyes filled with a hatred he'd never seen before."Fuck." He muttered, running a hand down his face. A soft knock at the door made his jaw clench. "Not now, Frankie!""I thought you might want company..." Her voice drifted through the door."What part of 'not now' wasn't fuckin’ clear?" He snapped, immediately regretting his tone but too wound up to care.The sound of retreating footsteps left him alone with his thoughts again. He walked to the window, looking down at the compound he'd built from nothing. The empire he'd created. But tonight, it all felt hollow."Should've seen your face." he said to his reflection in the darkened glass. "Like you'd seen a goddamn ghost." He laughed bitterly. "Maybe you did."The whiskey glass found its way to the wall, shattering in a satisfying explosion of glass and liquor. Of all the people to survive this long, of all the faces he could've seen in that lineup... it had to be Amy. The one person who knew him before. Before the apocalypse, before he became this.He moved to his desk, pulling out an old photograph he kept hidden in the bottom drawer. It was creased and worn, but her smile was still bright, her arms wrapped around his waist as they stood in front of a festive Christmas Tree."You just had to be with them, didn't you?" He muttered to the photo. "Rick's group. Of all the fucking places you could've ended up." He traced her face with his thumb. "Always did have shit timing, sweetheart."The memory of her thrashing at Simon while dragging her into the Van something in his chest aches. Even now, even after everything, she hadn't lost that fire. That spark that had drawn him to her in the first place."Sir?" Simon's voice called through the door. "We've got the inventory reports you asked for.""Leave 'em!" Negan shouted back, quickly tucking the photo away. He couldn't deal with business right now. Not when his mind kept drifting back to the cell block.He grabbed Lucille, his fingers tightening around the familiar wooden handle. "What do you think, baby?" He whispered to the bat. "Should we go pay our girl a visit?"But he knew he couldn't. Not tonight. Not when seeing her again would mean admitting how much it affected him. "Get your shit together." He growled at himself, pacing the room like a caged animal. "She's just another goddamn prisoner. Just another piece of leverage." The lies tasted bitter on his tongue. She'd never been 'just' anything. And having her here, in his sanctuary, behind locked doors... it was both everything he wanted and his worst nightmare combined. "Welcome home, doll." he muttered sarcastically, finally collapsing into his chair.
_________________________________________________________________________Waking up, Amy presumed it was the next day—or at least, she hoped it was. Sleep hadn’t come easily; the muffled sound of ‘Easy Street’ had been constant, but eventually, she managed to block it out. Her mind raced—was she going to die here? Even though she was only here because of Negan, what did he have planned for her? The thought alone made her stomach churn. On top of that, she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning... or was it the morning before? There was no way to tell anymore.To calm her racing thoughts, she closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the crushing reality of her situation. She began tapping her fingers in a familiar rhythm, grounding herself in the only thing that still felt like hers.The heavy footfalls approaching her cell made Amy's body tense, but she forced herself to remain still, her breath shallow and quick. Her heart spiked with dread, bracing for the worst. The unmistakable sound of keys jingling echoed in the silence, enough to send her into full-blown panic. The cell door creaked open, and there he was—the man she had been dreading to see, standing in the doorway like a nightmare come to life.Negan leaned casually against the frame, his ever-present grin stretching across his face. The sight of him made Amy's blood run cold.“Hey, Amy.” Negan said, his voice smooth like velvet, but the undertone was sharp, like a blade waiting to be unsheathed. Amy didn't move, didn't say anything. Just stared directly at the wall in front of her. "You know." He continued. "It's kinda funny. Out of all the people left in this shithole of a world, I run into you. What are the fuckin’ odds, huh?" Amy swallowed hard."What’s the plan here? Huh? Gonna stay real quiet and hope I forget all about you?" Negan said, his voice teasing, but there was a weight to it that made her skin crawl.Her stomach turned at the sound of his laugh—low, gravelly, and so familiar it made her hate herself for reacting to it. Amy turned to look up at him, her heart hammering in her chest, but her expression calm, controlled. She refused to show him any kind of fear. "What do you want from me, Negan?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, cracking slightly from dehydrationNegan’s dark eyes gleamed as his smirk widened. "There’s my girl." he said, spreading his arms in mock celebration. "Knew you couldn’t resist me forever."“Don’t flatter yourself.” Amy shot back, her voice sharp.He chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, there it is. That spark. I missed that about you, you know. Hell, I’d say I missed you, but I’m guessing you don’t wanna hear that, do you?”Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t answer. He crouched down to her eye level, tilting his head, his smile faltering just slightly as he studied her. "You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?" He let out a heavy sigh, though his grin quickly returned, sharper now. "But that’s alright. I like a challenge."Amy shuffled back, pressing herself further into the corner, her pulse pounding as she kept her eyes locked on his. “You didn’t answer my question. What the hell do you want?”He shrugged, his tone light, almost casual. "What do I want? I wanna talk. Catch up. See what you’ve been up to these days." He paused, his smirk twisting into something darker. "And maybe figure out why you’re hiding from me like I’m some kinda goddamn monster."Her stomach twisted. “Maybe I am hiding from you because you are a monster, you fuckin’ asshole.” Amy’s voice was laced in venom. For a moment, the grin slipped from his face, replaced by something colder, something that sent a chill down her spine.“Careful, Amy.” He said softly, the threat in his voice unmistakable. But before he could continue Amy spoke.“No! I don't have to sit here and let you talk to me like I’m just another random person to you.” She yelled. “You are a hellish monster! You got some sick, twisted pleasure from beating my friends to death! What the hell is wrong with you?” Silent tears streamed down Amy’s face as Negan rubbed the back of his neck, his expression uncertain.“This whole situation is fuckin’ insane.” She continued, her voice shaking. “Do you know what it was like for me when I found out my ex was tormenting a sister community? I told myself, ‘No, it can’t be. Negan would never do that! It’s probably someone else.’ But who the hell else could it have been?” She choked on a sob, her body trembling. “I never spoke up about it—never asked for a description, never demanded answers. Nothing! Because I knew... I knew it would all lead back to you.” Her sobs took over, the weight of everything finally crashing down on her.Negan let out a shaky breath, his hand falling away from his neck as leaned Lucille on the wall furthest from Amy. He hesitated for a moment before leaning in. His arms wrapped around her trembling form, pulling her into a firm yet tentative hug. She stiffened at first, but he held her anyway, Amy was too exhausted and weak to push him away.Holding him, Amy knew it was wrong, but the comfort of someone familiar was irresistible. They stayed like that for a while, her head resting on his chest as she let out all the emotions she had been bottling up since the fall. Silent tears slid down her cheeks, soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he held her tighter, his hand gently brushing her back in soothing circles.For a moment, the world outside seemed to dissolve—no guilt, no pain, just the shared warmth of their embrace. But as the seconds stretched, the weight of reality pressed in. Amy pulled back reluctantly, wiping at her face and avoiding his eyes.“Doll, I came to tell you you're getting an upgrade. Moving you to actual quarters, real bed, real walls, all the fuckin' comforts of home." Negan said, clearing his throat."How generous of you." Amy spat, but her voice trembled."Now, is that any way to talk to your gracious host? Especially when I came bearing good news?"Amy let out a hollow laugh. "You really think everything's about you, don't you?""When it comes to you, doll?" His grin widened. "Fuck yeah, I do. Now come on, let's get you settled into your new accommodations. Unless you'd prefer to stay here, serenading the rats?"As the cell door creaked open, Amy slowly got to her feet, her legs shaky. "This doesn't change anything.""Maybe not." Negan mused, reaching out, his grip firm but not rough. "But I’ll tell ya what, sweetheart—you’re still into me. Even after all these years. I hear it." His grin turned sharp. "Right there in that pretty little voice of yours."Amy yanked her arm free, eyes blazing. "You hear what you want to hear. Just like always."Negan chuckled, stepping back, hands raised like she’d actually wounded him. "Guilty as fuckin’ charged, darlin’."As she was led away from the cells, she could still hear "Easy Street" playing, and she silently prayed for Daryl's strength.
_________________________________________________________________________The morning light filtered through the dusty window of Amy's new room, casting long shadows across the sparse furnishings. She sat perched on the edge of the bed - a real bed, not the concrete floor she'd grown slightly accustomed to–trying to process the sudden change in her circumstances. The room wasn't large, but compared to her cell, it felt like a palace.A sharp knock at the door made her jump. "Rise and shine, doll!" Negan's voice boomed through the wood before he swung the door open, not waiting for a response."Ever heard of waiting for permission to enter?" Amy crossed her arms, glaring at him.Negan grinned, all teeth and cocky confidence, stepping inside like he owned the damn air she breathed. "My house, my goddamn rules, sweetheart." He tossed a bundle of clothes onto her bed. "Figured you might wanna get outta those filthy-ass rags. Got you something a little more... comfortable. Thought we’d take a nice little tour today, show you around your new home.""This isn't my home.” She snapped automatically, though her hands were already reaching for the clothes.Negan chuckled, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. "Give it time, darlin'. You’ll come around." He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Now, get changed. I’ll be right out here, unless... you need a hand?" He waggled his eyebrows, his smirk downright sinful."Out." Amy pointed to the door, ignoring the heat creeping up her neck.Negan held up his hands in mock surrender, backing out with a lazy grin. "Alright, alright. No need to have a cow. I’ll be right out here, so just don’t take all fuckin’ day."Once alone, Amy quickly changed into the clothes— low rise dark wash jeans and an off white long sleeve, both were a bit big but were comfy enough, she wondered if he remembered her size from before the fall. She shoved that thought aside real fast."Well, well, well." Negan drawled when she stepped out. His eyes raked over her, appreciation written all over his face. "Lookin’ good, doc. Ready for the grand tour?""Do I have a choice?"Negan laughed, shaking his head. "Doll, there’s always a choice. You can stay locked up in that room, sulkin’ like a goddamn teenager... but then you’d miss breakfast. And we both know how fuckin’ cranky you get when you’re hungry."Like clockwork, Amy’s stomach growled loud enough to make Negan throw his head back with a laugh."See? Fuckin’ told ya!" He motioned her forward. "Come on, princess. Let’s take a little walk."As they moved through the Sanctuary’s corridors, Negan’s presence worked like magic—people dropped to their knees the second he passed, heads bowed, avoiding eye contact. Amy felt a wave of nausea rise in her throat."First stop—the marketplace." Negan announced, spreading his arms wide like some twisted tour guide. "Anything you want, you can get it here. Costs points, though, and you’ll earn yours once we put those fancy medical skills to work.""And if I don’t help?" She challenged, crossing her arms.Negan’s grin didn’t falter, but his eyes darkened just enough to make her pulse spike. "Oh, you will help, sweetheart. Because deep down, you need to. It’s in your fuckin' DNA." He leaned in, voice all silk and steel. "But hey, if you wanna be stubborn, we got plenty of other ways to keep you busy. Shit, I’m practically bursting with options."They continued their tour, winding through the compound like it was some twisted theme park. Eventually, they rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a man sporting a 70’s moustache and receding hairline one could make jokes about for days. His bright smile and confident posture make him approachable, but his eyes still carried that knife’s-edge sharpness.Negan’s booming voice cut through the tense air. “Well, if it isn’t my ol’ pal, Simon!” He spread his arms wide like he was introducing a guest of honour. “Get your ass over here and meet our newest resident!”Amy’s breath caught in her throat. Her blood turned cold, then boiled over into pure, unfiltered rage. How is this guy everywhere? Memories burned in her brain like an open wound, raw and festering.Simon swaggered forward, his bruised jaw still slightly swollen from when Amy had punched him the night of the line-up. Despite the obvious ache, that same infuriating grin haunted his face. “Hey there, sweetheart.” He drawled, his voice oily and smug. “Welcome to the club.”Amy didn’t even register herself moving. Her body acted on instinct, fuelled by years of suppressed anger which she had just so happened to be taking out on Simon. Her fist shot forward again, slamming into the same spot on Simon’s jaw with a sickening crack that echoed like a gunshot.Simon stumbled back, eyes wide in shock as he staggered to find his footing. This time, the pain was undeniable, contorting his face into a grimace. He barely had time to groan before Negan sprang into action, grabbing Amy and yanking her back. His grip was strong, like iron wrapped in leather, pinning her arms to her sides.“Well, shit!” Negan barked, his voice rich with mockery and a hint of amusement. “Somebody’s got a little fire in her belly! Doll, you pack one hell of a punch—twice!”Amy twisted and thrashed in his grip, her face a mask of pure fury. “Let me go, you bastard!” She snarled, her voice raw with rage.Negan didn’t flinch. If anything, her defiance only seemed to entertain him. He threw a quick glance down at Simon, who was groaning and clutching his jaw. “You good, buddy? Need a nap? A little ice pack? Maybe a hug? You look like you’ve been run over by a damn truck.”Simon glared at him, rubbing his jaw gingerly. “I’m just peachy.” He spat, though his voice was tight with pain.Negan let out a booming laugh. “C’mon, don’t be like that. She’s just… adjusting. You know how it is. First day in a new neighborhood always comes with a few bumps and bruises.” He flashed a grin. “So how ‘bout we smooth things over, put this little misunderstanding behind us, and start fresh?”“Start fresh?” Amy spat, still thrashing in his grip. “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m just gonna—”Negan’s arms tightened just enough to steal her breath for a moment. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there, hot stuff. No need to go throwin’ around insults before we’ve even had the welcome party.” His tone was light, but there was no mistaking the steel beneath it. “We’re civilized folk. Friendly. Like goddamn Boy Scouts. So why don’t you take a breath, keep those claws in, and let Uncle Negan take care of things?”Amy glared at him, her rage unshaken. “I don’t need you to take care of anything, and I sure as hell don’t need you telling me to calm down.”Negan chuckled, his grin widening. “That’s the fire I like to see. Keep that spark, doll. You’re gonna need it.”Simon straightened, rolling his shoulders as he shook off the blow. His eyes were still sharp with fury. “She’s got a real attitude problem.” He muttered, voice low and venomous. Negan clapped a hand on Simon’s shoulder, never losing his smirk.“Oh, don’t pout, Simon. You know I hate when my best man sulks.” He tilted his head toward Amy. “Look at the bright side—she’s got guts. Not many people have the stones to swing at you twice.” Amy’s struggles grew more frantic. Fuelled by scraps of food that had been left in her room and sheer adrenaline, she kicked at Negan’s shins, clawing at his arms in a desperate attempt to break free.Negan barely flinched. If anything, he looked entertained. “Damn, girl.” His voice dipped lower, dripping amusement. “You keep putting on a show like this, and I’m gonna have to start selling tickets.” He shot Simon a grin. “Simon, buddy, you better watch out—looks like she’s comin’ for your job!”Simon’s lip curled in a sneer, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.Amy finally stilled, her breath heaving, her fury far from spent. She glared daggers at both men, silently vowing that this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.Negan relaxed his hold slightly, but not enough to let her go. “There we go. See? We’re all friends now. No need to get all punchy again.” His voice dipped into a mocking singsong. “At least not yet.”Amy’s glare didn’t waver. “I’ll never be your friend. Or his.”Negan chuckled, the sound dark and foreboding. “We’ll see, doll. We’ll see. Come on, let's get some fuckin’ food in you before you get even more disagreeable."The cafeteria was busy, but again, people parted ways for them. Negan led her to a private area where better quality food was being served. "Perks of being with me." He winked, loading a plate with bread and fresh fruit."I'm not with you." Amy said firmly, though she couldn't help eyeing the food hungrily."No?" Negan leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear. "Then why haven't you asked about Daryl once this whole tour? Feeling a little... distracted?"Amy jerked away from him, guilt flooding her chest. She had been so caught up in the normalcy of the morning, in the familiar banter with Negan, that she'd momentarily forgotten about Daryl suffering in his cell."There she is." Negan nodded, noting her expression. "That moral compass spinning again. Eat your damn breakfast, sweetheart. You're going to need your strength for what comes next.""What comes next?" She asked warily."Now that's the right fuckin’ question." He grinned, biting into an apple. "But let's just take it one step at a time. Baby steps, right? Just like old times."Amy stared down at her plate, fighting the warring emotions in her chest. She knew she should be thinking of escape, of helping Daryl, of resisting Negan's manipulations. Instead, she found herself taking a bite of a fresh apple, trying to ignore how natural it felt to be sitting here with him, falling back into their old patterns like no time had passed at all—that was a issue…fuck.“Why are you acting like nothing happened?” Amy looked up from her plate to the man in front of her.“The fuck are you talking about?” Negan said, painfully oblivious to the whirlwind of memories and thoughts appearing in Amy’s mind.“I am talking about the last time we spoke.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Amy had left for her hotel, her vision blurred by the stream of tears that refused to stop. No matter how many times she wiped them away, fresh ones would take their place, rolling down her cheeks like raindrops on a window. She had tried to change her flight, desperate to escape the ache in her chest, but there were no earlier departures. She was stuck here for one more agonizing day, forced to endure the unbearable weight of her emotions.Back at the hotel, she barely had the energy to kick off her shoes before collapsing onto the bed. She curled up beneath the thick sheets, pulling them over her head as if they could shield her from reality. As long as she stayed hidden, she could pretend that nothing had changed. The thought of facing it, of stepping out and confronting the truth, was too much. Her phone buzzed once on the nightstand, but she ignored it.The following morning came too soon, and the journey home was nothing short of torturous. Time stretched endlessly, every minute dragging on as if the universe itself conspired to keep her trapped in this limbo. She sat stiffly at the airport gate, staring blankly at the departure screens, her mind far away. When she finally boarded, the plane ride was as dull as ever, a blur of engine hums and murmured conversations that she tuned out completely.She made a mental note to call her sister—just not today. She didn’t have the energy to explain right now, but she needed to apologise for ruining her special day.By the time she stepped out of the cab in front of her apartment building, exhaustion weighed heavy on her shoulders. The driver mumbled a polite farewell, and she forced herself to offer a small nod in return, placing a few bills in his hand before shutting the door. The moment the car pulled away, she let out a slow breath. Home. She was finally home.Coming back to her apartment, Amy wanted to trash everything in sight. Rip everything off the walls, flip every table. She couldn't hold it together, was it her fault? Did she not notice? Was she so in love she missed the band of silver on his ring finger?She dumped her suitcase and bags into her living room and walked slowly and painfully to her bedroom, the familiar environment making her feel slightly better about her situation. Amy walked over to her wardrobe, pushing hangers of colourful clothes aside to reveal a gift bag. A gift that was meant for Negan for his birthday.A bottle of his favourite whiskey and the stuffed bear he won her at the carnival all those months ago, now decorated in clothes she had sewn. A little black jacket to replicate his signature leather jacket and one of her favourite necklaces draped over the bear's chest. She thought the bear was thoughtful enough and it was in her budget, the whiskey she was lucky enough to get it on sale. Guess he wont need this anymore., Amy thought sarcastically. She took the bottle of whiskey from the back, ripped off the decorative bows she had made from old ribbons, and unscrewed the lid. Not bothering with a glass, she drank straight from the bottle, the amber liquid burning her throat.Wincing, she moved toward her bed, falling back onto the springy mattress, not caring that the drink spilled over onto her carpet.The burn in her throat matched the ache in her chest. How could I have been so blind? The thought kept repeating, louder now, as if she could somehow choke out the bitterness that was slowly taking over. She reached for the bottle again, not even sure why. The sting felt good. It was the only thing that made sense right now.She closed her eyes, but his face kept flashing behind her eyelids—the smile he’d worn when he’d said he was “busy with work.” The way his hands had never quite touched her the same way they used too. He had a wife. A whole life without me.The doorbell rang, a sharp, relentless sound that yanked Amy out of her drunken haze. She groaned, rolling onto her side, her head pounding. Who the hell—The ringing came again, louder this time, like whoever was at the door had no intention of leaving.“Fuckin’ leave it.” She slurred, voice muffled against the pillow. But the knocking didn’t stop.With a frustrated grunt, she forced herself up. Her legs wobbled as she staggered toward the bedroom door, grabbing the half-empty whiskey bottle from her nightstand on the way. Her fingers fumbled with the doorknob, her vision swimming.She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before yanking the door open. And there he was. Negan stood in the doorway, smirking like he hadn’t just shattered her entire world.“Hey there, doll. You startin’ the party without me?” He drawled, stepping inside without an invitation. He leaned in to kiss her, but she shoved him back with surprising force.He frowned, his smirk faltering. “What’s with the fuckin' attitude?”Amy ignored him, turning away and stumbling toward the couch. She collapsed onto it, gripping the whiskey bottle tightly.“How was your week?” She asked, her voice slow, slurred—but calculated.Negan’s eyes flickered with confusion before he grinned again, lounging beside her like nothing was wrong. “Nothin’ fuckin’ interesting. Just work, same old stuff. Missed the hell outta you, though.”Amy let out a slow breath, gripping the neck of the bottle so tight her knuckles turned white.“You fuckin’ liar.” Her voice was quiet, eerily calm.Negan blinked, caught off guard. “What?”Before he could say anything else, she took another swig, then shot up from the couch.“Why the fuck did I call you—only to have some other goddamn woman pick up? Calling herself your wife?” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care.Negan’s smirk vanished. His face drained of colour.“Babe, you’re not thinkin’ straight. Put the bottle down.” He said, stepping toward her, hands up like he was trying to calm a wild animal.Amy let out a hollow laugh. “Not thinking straight? You’re a joke.”“It’s not what you think—” He reached for her wrist.She jerked away like his touch burned her. “Don’t you DARE stand here and lie to me!” She screamed, shoving him.The whiskey bottle slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor, glass shattering at her feet. She barely registered the sting as shards embedded into her skin, whiskey soaking into the rug.“How long?” She demanded, voice trembling. “How long have you been lying to me?”She took a step forward, pain shooting up her leg as a jagged piece of glass sliced into her foot. She gasped, stumbling slightly.Negan exhaled harshly, running a hand down his face. And then, just like that, something inside him snapped.“Okay, fuck! You wanna do this? Fine! Not that you’ll even fuckin’ remember this conversation since you’re so goddamn wasted!” He snapped.Amy flinched, her breath hitching.“I was fuckin’ bored, okay?” He threw his hands up. “That what you wanna hear? Huh? Happy now?” He let out a bitter laugh. “This thing—” He gestured between them. ”—was supposed to be a one-time thing. But one thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was in too deep. And now? Now, I’m stuck loving you.”Silence.Amy’s chest ached, her breath coming in short gasps. “Get out.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.Negan stepped closer. “Amy, c’mon, let’s talk about this—”“GET THE FUCK OUT!” She shrieked, grabbing the nearest thing—an empty coffee cup—and hurling it at the wall beside his head. It shattered, ceramic flying everywhere. “I HATE YOU!” Amy said through sobs.Negan flinched but recovered fast, his eyes darkening. “You’re fuckin’ crazy.” He spat before storming out, slamming the door behind him.Amy stood there, her whole body shaking. Then she crumbled. Sobs tore through her as she pressed a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the sound. She wanted to scream, to break something else, to feel something other than this aching betrayal. She needed to shut it all out.With shaky hands, she turned away, ignoring the pain in her foot, and limped toward her bedroom. She grabbed another bottle hidden in her dresser—red wine —and disappeared under the covers, desperate to drown out everything.An hour later the bottle softly clinked to the ground, the burn in her throat no longer sharp but lingering like a dull ache in her chest. The room spun, and her thoughts were scattered, but the anger still pressed down on her like a weight. She needed to talk to him…didn't she?Amy grabbed her phone, her hands unsteady, fingers pressing down on the buttons until Negan’s name appeared. She didn’t even think twice—she tapped the call button.It rang once. Twice. Three times. And then, the voicemail picked up.“Negan, you’re a fucking coward.” She started, her voice thick with a mix of slurring and emotion. “You really thought I wouldn’t find out, huh? You really thought you could just… have both of us? And I’d be the fool who didn’t see it? Well, guess what? That’s not me man. Those damn excuses of you having to be up early…your a fucking high school gym teacher, why did I ever believe you?”She let out a harsh laugh, the sound almost painful, as the alcohol kicked in further, making her words come faster.“You never cared about me, did you? All those promises, all those sweet words, they were all lies. I was just your little side piece, weren’t I? Your backup plan. And you know what? I fell for it. I fell for you. And I’m so fucking angry at myself for that. I gave you everything, and you just… tossed me aside.”Her voice trembled, a deep sob escaping her throat, but she choked it down.“But you know what? I loved you. God, I loved you so much. I still love you, even now, even after all this. And that’s the worst part, isn’t it? That even after everything, I can’t even hate you. I thought maybe… maybe you could actually be the one. But you're just like Ada—.”She paused, breathing heavily, the tears threatening to spill, but she wasn’t going to let him hear her break. She continued, clearing her throat.“This is the last time you will hear from me, hell I didn’t want to call now but like you said, I can't even think straight.”There was a long silence. And then, the sound of her finger tapping the screen to end the message.“Goodbye Negan.”She tossed the phone onto the bed, the words hanging in the air, thick and heavy. It felt like a weight had been lifted, but her body still felt drunk, her mind still spinning. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the finality of it all. But she couldn’t go back now._______________________________________________________It has been almost two months since their ‘break-up’. Amy’s weekends were no longer filled with whimsy and surprise—now, they were just full of alcohol and the presence of the barkeeps.She had ignored the constant buzzing of her phone—calls from her best friend, who had left increasingly concerned voicemails, from co-workers who had noticed her behaviour change and were starting to worry, even from her father, who had never called before now he had grown unusually persistent.She now understood what it was like to be Tom in 500 Days of Summer—constantly hoping and praying he would come back, even when she knew it was pointless. Her life had become a relentless cycle of work and bars. It wasn’t healthy, but Amy didn’t care.
This Saturday was no different. Luckily, a bar was just a short walk from her apartment, so she threw on whatever her hands found first—a pair of low-rise denim jeans, a white tank top she often slept in, and a white zip up. She shoved her hair in a high ponytail and stepped out of her apartment. She slung her bag over her shoulder and slipped on a pair of platform sandals. It wasn’t like anyone would care, and with the weather heating up, it hardly mattered.The familiar scent of stale beer and cheap perfume clung to the air as Amy stepped inside. The bar wasn’t crowded yet, just the usual early-evening regulars—tired souls nursing their first drinks of the night, chatting in low voices or staring at their phones. She made her way to the counter, tapping her fingers idly against the wood while waiting for the bartender to notice her.“Amy.” The bartender, Jonah, gave her a nod. He was a broad-shouldered guy with tired eyes, always looking like he had one foot out the door. “The usual?”She shrugged. “Yeah, why not.”Jonah poured her drink without another word, setting it in front of her. She took a sip, letting the burn settle in her throat.The door swung open, bringing in a burst of humid air along with a small group of newcomers. She didn’t bother looking—until she heard a laugh that made her stomach drop.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse. And there he was.
Negan.
Standing at the entrance, laughing at something someone had said. Same easy grin, same confidence in the way he carried himself. Amy swallowed hard and turned back to her drink.Maybe he wouldn’t notice her. Maybe she could just blend into the background, another girl at the bar. But she knew better. She knew the moment he saw her, that grin would shift. That flicker of recognition would cross his face.Amy groaned loudly, letting her forehead hit the sticky wooden counter with a dull thud. Jonah was busy polishing a set of shot glasses, his movements slow and practiced. He barely glanced up at her dramatic display, but the smirk on his face said he’d noticed.“What’s wrong now?” He asked, chuckling.Amy lifted her head just enough to glare at him. “My ex just walked in with his friends.” She dropped her head back down for emphasis before dramatically looking up at the ceiling, as if appealing to some higher power. “Why me?” She groaned again, turning her attention back to Jonah. “Seriously. Why me?”Jonah snorted, already reaching for the bottle. “Well, Amy, if it makes you feel any better, he ain’t looking this way yet."Amy scoffed. “Yet.”Jonah smirked. “You want my advice? Find yourself a distraction. If you look busy, he might think twice before comin' over.”“Oh yeah?” She huffed. “And what kind of distraction do you suggest?”As if on cue, one of Negan’s friends slid up beside her at the bar. He was the loud one—the kind of guy who always acted like he owned every room he walked into. Grinning, he leaned in, too close already.“Hey there, sweetheart.” He drawled, resting his arm on the bar. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you’re lookin' for a distraction. Lucky for you, I happen to be very, very available.”"I can tell." Amy sighed, casting a quick glance past him. Negan was watching now. Of course he was. His smirk was gone, his eyes locked onto her.“You got a hell of a face, you know that?” The guy continued, clearly mistaking her silence for interest. “A girl like you shouldn’t be drinkin' alone.”Amy exhaled through her nose. She could practically feel Negan’s eyes burning into the side of her face.“And I’m guessing you think you’re the solution to that problem?” She asked dryly.“Damn right.” He said, lifting his beer with a cocky grin. “Let me buy you a drink. Hell, let me take you out sometime. I’ll show you a real good night.”Amy drummed her fingers against the bar. She knew exactly what she was doing before she even moved.Smiling, she leaned in, close enough that the guy probably thought he’d already won. His smirk widened. But before he could say anything else, she grabbed his collar and kissed him.It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was just enough for his hands to land on her waist and enough for the bar to react with a few whistles and laughs, enough for her to know without even looking that Negan was seeing every second of it and that was the point.She pulled away first, patting his chest with a smirk. “Thanks for the offer, dude. But I am good.”The guy blinked, caught between surprise and amusement, but Amy was already turning away, saying a goodbye to Jonah and leaving money to cover her tab.She passed Negan on the way out. He was leaning back in his seat, jaw tight, fingers drumming against his beer bottle. His smirk was gone. His eyes—dark and unreadable—locked onto hers.Amy just smiled, then she walked right past him. Suck on that motherfucker! The cool night air hit Amy’s skin as she stepped outside, sobering her up. She could still feel the weight of Negan’s stare like he was barely holding something back.She wasn’t stupid—she knew exactly what kind of game she was playing. Amy knew the way Negan worked, how he expected people to fall in line, to orbit around him like he was the goddamn sun. But Amy wasn’t built for that, she never had been.Amy stepped out of the bar, the night air cool against her flushed skin. The streets were mostly empty, the occasional streetlamp flickering as she made her way toward her apartment. Her sandals echoed against the pavement, steady and sharp, but her mind was anything but. She should have felt satisfied— triumphant, even, but she didn’t.Because if she was being honest with herself, part of her had wanted him to follow. Had wanted to hear his voice behind her, calling her name. Had wanted to turn and see something real in his eyes, something more than that cold, unreadable stare.But Negan hadn’t moved. And now, alone in the quiet night, the adrenaline from the bar was wearing off, leaving something heavier in its place. Something she didn’t want to name. Her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, blinking against the sudden sting in her eyes.
Fuck.
She hadn’t meant for it to hit like this. Hadn’t meant for the guilt to settle in her chest like a weight pressing down, making it hard to breathe. She hadn’t even thought she cared—not really, not in any way that mattered. But the moment she pulled away from that guy, the second she’d seen the way Negan was looking at her…it had felt wrong.Amy clenched her jaw, shaking her head like she could force the feeling away, but it wasn’t working. The image of him, sitting there, jaw tight, fingers drumming against his beer bottle—it wouldn’t leave her. And it wasn’t just the look on his face. It was the fact that she’d wanted to see something else there.But instead, she’d kissed someone else just to prove a point, and now here she was, walking alone through the dark, arms wrapped around herself like that could somehow hold her together.A choked breath slipped out before she could stop it. Then another. And before she knew it, hot tears were spilling down her cheeks. Amy turned the corner onto her street, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her jacket, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
Why the fuck am I crying?
Maybe it was because she’d never wanted to be this kind of person. The kind who played stupid games for attention. The kind who kissed a guy she didn’t even like just to get under someone else’s skin. The kind who cared what Negan thought—but somehow, she did. And that? That scared the hell out of her. Because now, she was that person.What happened to me? Had the breakup really hit her that hard? Hard enough to turn her into someone she barely recognized? A sharp sob tore from her throat before she could swallow it down.She’d lost herself. The Amy that Negan knew, that anyone knew—she’d been buried these past few months under grief and heartbreak, suffocating under the weight of it all.That woman in the bar? That wasn’t her. That was the version she wanted people to see. Tough. Unbothered. In control. But the truth was, she wasn’t any of those things. As she climbed the steps to her apartment, hands shaking as she fumbled with the key.Amy wasn’t sure if she even remembered how to be her anymore.