Break Me |✧Negan 🍯

5• R-E-S-P-E-C-t

Well, that was some intense shit.

I was dragged like a mafia hit by my poor arm through this silent hill shit-hole by tash-man.
Goddammit, I couldn't even get my bearings.

But all I could think about was how many pictures Lincoln had taken.

We looked almost cosy, up on that hood.
What would Rick think? Michonne? Would they think me some half-lidded whore turned traitor?

Fuck, would they think I was Andrea 2.0?
Would that mean they'd abandon me to the lusty psycho?
Was I abandoned already?
Cut off my head bitch, I didn't care. But I didn't want to croak as a traitor.

The maze of prison paint and chequred tiles welcomed me with the mouldy stench of cholera.
Dave had definitely shit, I was pretty sure it was his remains that felt spongy under my boots as we turned the final corner.

"Cleanin' turds will do that to a person," I muttered aloud.
Maybe it was sleep deprivation, or post traumatic stress, or dehydration induced psychosis, but a manacle chuckle leapt from my throat.

Simon froze. Brows twitching. And he dropped my arm to spin me around and face him.

He was a big fucker too. His bin-lid paws rested on my shoulders as he looked at me like I was clucking. "What?"

"Dave." I quipped as I nodded my head. My eyes strained under the hyper-fluorescent strip lights. "Fuckin' Dave...and the grapes of wrath."

"Huh?" Simon, who I guessed was under strict orders to keep me safe, looked totally perplexed as he scratched his neck.

"I'm a nurse..." I wiped my snotty nose. My tongue finding four cracked teeth and a split in my dry gum. "Was...was a nurse...no I wasn't!

I did the silly me shuffle. "But believe it or not, Ripley. I was in the CDC with America's premiere Doctor and he tried to blow me up."

Everything hurt. My tinnitus was raging. And sweat clung to me like a ill-fitting suit.
I touched my forehead with the back of my hand, it was hot, too hot, and I almost felt delirious. "Cleanin' turds can make you want to kill a person. A nurse told me that. That why you iced el Dave? Because Dave smells dead."

"Awwwwww. Burnin' hot, Brit?" Simon seemed to understand, a treacle grin showcasing his wolf-man chompers. "You feelin' like cold, dead shit?"

And I really didn't like it when his mitt replaced my own and he frowned at my tropical fever.

"Keep walkin', sniper bitch. Don't die yet." He gripped my hair like I was a feral rat, my matted pony screaming as he yanked me back on course and kicked my arse with his boot. "We need you lucid for all the fun and games."

We marched forth. Through cobwebs and the remains of shining human offal, a walk into nothingness as my mind spun light speed.

"Was you the kinda nurse to...uh...give a dignified death by pillow." Tash cackled at his own joke. Imitating an elderly woman suffocating under goose-feather.

My eyes flashed with coloured beads of static. "Yeah, the last pillow I talked to told me you wouldn't stop bitin' it."

He succumbed to some riotous belly laugh, my pathetic stumble and meek yelp only convulsing him further. "Tell me somethin', Brit. You ever been mistaken for a man?"

-"No. Have you?"

Tash punched my arm, and I winced at the fat bruise purpling already. "If I didn't hate your guts I'd like you. Now shut the fuck up and walk."