Chapter Text
There's something so crude about being on the opposite side of a psychological manipulation tactic than normal that Negan truly hates. He doesn't want to hurt anyone any longer- that's not who he is anymore- but he still feels like he would rather step onto the side of evil once again than watch Annie get pulled and slapped and dragged for his sake.
Negan was the mastermind. He was the one who would use love and compassion and human fucking feelings in order to deal the most torture into his victims as he could. It's how he met the people he's now surrounded by- half of the ones he met initially are gone, but he'll never forget the pure fear and horror in Maggie's eyes as he smashed into Glenn's face, the same appearance repeated onto that of Rosita and Sasha as he demolished Abraham, and the loss when he dragged Daryl away with him.
(For some reason, it doesn't make him feel powerful anymore; he feels disgusted, and wakes up vomiting from nightmares more often than he'll admit to anyone that isn't there to witness it.)
It's a dumb, futile attempt at salvation, Negan knows; he's well aware that no matter how many deals he tries to make with these Commonwealth foes, nothing will ever come out of it. He'll end up losing in any way. At this point, Negan's certain that he'll pay with his life for all the little mistakes he's made in begging the soldiers to see his wife.
Annie doesn't need him. Negan knows that she's strong. Annie is more than able to take care of herself, their growing child, and hell, even Negan himself, but he can't help the protective feeling that overcomes him every time she crosses his mind. He loves Lucille, and he probably always will, but there's something so absolutely spectacular about Annie that seems to blow his mind upon every gaze.
Negan's not sure how he got so lucky.
He makes a deal: providing information about whichever prisoners are planning an escape and however they’re doing it in exchange for a visit to his wife. He knows that Ezekiel would immediately think him a traitor, that he's inside of the room spilling on whoever he can for his own gain. He would be wrong, of course- Negan's only plan is to throw himself under the bus for Annie's survival.
When he leaves the Warden's office- he doesn't know the man's name, because apparently names are not important here- a new soldier takes him by the elbow and ties his hands up behind his back, declaring that they'll stay like that until they reach Annie's room, because Negan's not exactly someone that can be trusted.
(Boy, has he heard that one before.)
They walk in silence, for the most part, until they enter a new building on the property. The soldier closes the door behind Negan and sighs as he leads them down a hall. "I don't want to have to kill you," he admits as they walk. Negan glaces over at him, but the soldier stays staring straight ahead. "A nurse will probably stop by during your shift; he's no intruder, so don't go throwing punches at him. That'll be your death sentence."
Negan nods, but confusion grows in his mind. He turns his head to the wall, quietly clearing his throat. A few steps pass in synchrony before he speaks. "You guys have nurses?" he asks. He didn't expect them to- it's not as though this place cares for any of them.
The soldier shrugs, his bulky armor bumping into itself as he moves. Negan can't imagine how annoying that gets. "I'm not really sure where he came from," he discloses. "All I know is that Pamela had used him as more of a servant-" the soldier gestures to turn through a doorway without pausing his words- "'cause the kid lost his fucking arm. You know- fucking sparky wouldn't be too helpful out here on the field with a fucking peg hand."
Negan wants to laugh, but he feels like the anger is too much for it to be all that funny. Duly, it makes him angry- the soldier referred to the guy as ‘kid,’ meaning he’s younger than him, and Negan was never one for dragging children into adult messes in that way.
"He works in the infirmary. Too many of you old assholes pass out on the job for us not to have a few beds." He stops walking at a door, grabbing the rope around Negan's wrist and pulling the knot taught. He unravels the twists and shoves the thread into his pocket. "Well, your wife is in here. You'll be allowed to stay until my boss comes to grab you." He grabs the doorknob and pushes it open, patting Negan on the shoulder as he departs. "Enjoy your time, because there's no telling if it's your last."
Negan waits until the solider walks away to walk in and close the door behind him. A breath of relief leaves his mouth the second his eyes land on Annie's sleeping form. Despite the way she's curled up in on herself, he can still spot her chest rising and falling, and it's the best sight he's seen since the ultrasound they got back at the Commonwealth.
Annie's alive, and Negan has never been happier.
He has the physically will himself to not burst into tears on the spot- he's still standing right behind the door and his knees are feeling weak. Negan takes a deep breath before wobbly stepping forward; he guides himself to the chair positioned by her bedside, repositioning it from the wall so that he has a better view of her face. Negan leans his weight onto his feet and slips his hand into Annie's.
His wife doesn't even flinch. She shifts, but her fingers simply twitch against his gloves, and she doesn't wake at the movement. It hits Negan how tired she must be; sure, they could all use much more rest than they've gotten, but the toll it's taken on her must be far too great. Her mental state has to have tanked from the stress, never mind her body, which is trying to house and nurture the baby they're expecting.
Negan wraps her limp hand in both of his and cradles it as a silent apology.
If it wasn't under the circumstances that they were trapped in, he would be willing to do this all day. Negan would bask in Annie's presence for the rest of his life, if he could, doing nothing but giving her as much love as he could muster up. He would wrap her in his arms and hold her all day, then lie by her side and hold her at night. He would truly do anything and everything for the woman sleeping in front of him.
The door opens gently, but Negan keeps his head down. By looking up sharply at the perpetrator, he knows that it would look suspicious, so he tries not to look like he's plotting an escape from this room.
"Hey," the nurse says as he enters. His voice is familiar, but he can't place it. He's met so many people within the past few years- the past few days- that he's not sure he'd remember the voice of some of his closest and most important companions from the Sanctuary if he tried.
Negan looks up then- he was invited to- but he only sees the man’s back. "Hope I’m not interrupting, but I just wanted to check on her, and-"
Then, the nurse turns around and immediately drops his basket. "You're lucky I don't just fucking kill you on the spot."
Negan doesn't forget faces, though, including the dismantled ones that appear in his dreams. So when he looks up and makes eye contact with the man standing in the doorway, he ignores everything he's heard about death being permanent, because he's absolutely certain that the man is Carl Grimes.