Work Text:
When Hershel tells her Negan killed Fabian and hurt Dillard, her first thought wasn’t about why he did that and trying to find a reason or excuse for his behavior, but if he was alright and if he was hurt instead.
“Mom?” Hershel's eyes widen with worry as she darts out of the door, running down the streets of New York, dodging Walkers left and right. “MOM?!”
She knows her son is hot on her heels, but the only thing present in her mind is Negan. She really couldn’t give two fucks about Fabian, let alone Dillard, right now.
Negan was her only priority right now.
“MOM!” Her son sounded out of breath, just like she was holding on to that one singular thread holding her up as her lungs and legs burned with every step she took. “MOM!! PLEASE, STOP!”
As much as she wanted to stop, she could not slow down for one second until she finally comes to a stop in front of Negan, who better has no hair harmed on his head.
After, Maggie doesn’t know, how many minutes of endless running, she comes to stop outside of Dillards Bar. Renata, Luis and the Dead Squad are already there, guns ready to make Negan compliant.
“STOP!” Maggie heaves, then leans forward, her hands on her thighs as she takes deep, calming breaths. “Let me talk to him before you do whatever you have planned.”
Renata eyes her warily.
“He killed Fabian, Maggie. He needs to be locked up.”
She takes another gulp of fresh air, before she stands back up, head shaking. “No. No he doesn’t. Did he tell you why he did what he did?”
“Apparently Fabian threatened you and me. He wanted to kill us both, so Negan took him out before he could do it. But—” Renata holds her hand up, stopping Maggie from saying whatever she wanted to say. “This is not how we do things here.”
Maggie knew this. But the truth was, she would have done the same if she was the one leading the community. She would’ve taken Fabian out herself, just like she did with Gregory. Maybe letting the light completely win wasn’t who she truly was deep inside. She had a darkness inside herself she knew she needed to survive this new world. She had seen too many unspeakable things humans did to another because the society they knew had crumbled and fallen over night.
“Let me talk to him. He listens to me. I know him better than anyone else here.”
“Okay.” Renata nods and stands back. “You have five minutes. Then all bets are off.”
“Thank you.” With a grateful smile Maggie looks at the door, then at Hershel, who stood next to Luis.
Coming to a stop beside Luis, she pulls Hershel into a hug.
“You stay out here with Luis and Renata. I’ll be out in five minutes tops.”
“Are you sure about this, Maggie?” Luis ask, the uncertainty clear in his voice. “What if he kills you too?”
Maggies eyes snap to his, a raging fire igniting inside her chest.
“Negan would never hurt me.”
Luis looks at her, the disbelieve clearly written all over his face.
“How can you be so sure, Maggie? He just hurt Fabian… unprovoked!”
She shares a glance with her son, who—unlike herself—is completely impartial, before she turns back to Luis, her arms crossed.
“Because I know him. Whatever he does, he has his reasons.” She retorts and rolls her shoulders back, feeling the crack deep in her bones. “Now, if you excuse me.”
Without another word, she takes the last few steps towards the door, opens it and sneaks inside.
It’s quiet.
Way too quiet for Maggies liking—besides Titicaca screeching at no one while Cockenspiel was lying dead in the booth, finally lifeless. She never understood Dillards need for keeping the zombies around, but then she was privileged enough to be surrounded by actual people, unlike Dillard.
“Negan?” her voice is quiet and yet too loud in the bar all at once. “Are you here?”
She makes it towards the pole, before she hears a gun cock and the cold steel of the guns barrel is pressed against the back of her head.
And yet, she did not feel any kind of fear. She knows he would never, ever hurt her.
“Whose side are you on?”
His voice is quiet and she detects a level of fear in his voice as if he is scared she will turn against him.
She turns her head to the side and sees his blurry shape from the corner of her eye. Maggie huffs, not believing he even has to ask.
So she fully turns towards him, the gun now aimed at the front of her head, one eyebrow raised, silently asking him “Really?”
“I don’t want to repeat myself. Whose side are you on, Margaret?”
She lifts her arm and puts her hand over his, gently lowering the gun to the ground as she takes slow, but deliberate, steps towards Negan until the gun is between them. One wrong move and they both get severely injured, but that was a chance she was willing to take.
“Do you really have to ask?” a warm smile spreads across her face as she takes in his scared hazel eyes. “Yours.”
"Oh, thank God,” he wrangles the weapon carefully out between them and lays it on the counter-top, before his attention was fully back on her.
“They out there?”
„Yes. They gave me five minutes.“
He hums in understanding, leaning against the bar, his eyes never once leaving hers.
Hazel and green, unapologetically staring straight into each others soul.
„What happened with him, Negan?“ She motions to Fabians dead body. The dead body she stepped over when she came in, not having paid him any attention nor really realizing he was there. „Renata told me her version, but I want to hear yours.“
„Well,“ Negan starts. „He came here to bitch about you, so I played along. I think he thought we still were at odds… as if I didn’t exchange myself for Sparky. And once he admitted that you are a disease and Renata was the symptom and both need to be eradicated, I saw red and shot him in the head. In front of Renata.“
Maggie rubs the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath, before she looks at Negan, shaking her head.
„Why were you this reckless?“
„Why, Margaret,“ Negan teases, a playful smile on his lips. „I didn’t know you cared that much about me.“
„Can you takes this fucking seriously?“ she retorts, a small smile tucking at her lips, trying very hard to be let loose. „You’re the only one I got left. I don’t want to lose you too.“
Negan sobers up and nods, his hand grasping the gun he used to kill Fabian with.
„Let’s get out of here.“
„What?“ Maggie looks at his slowly retreating form. „I can talk to Renata! You won’t get locked up.“
But all he does is shake his head in return, „You damn well know she never liked me and only tolerated me because of you. Lets go. I really don’t fancy another few years behind bars.“
„But… Hershel?“
She motions towards the outside, where she knows Hershel is waiting with Renata, Luis, Dillard and the Dead Squad.
„His Aunt Renata will protect him, Maggie. He‘ll be fine. She won’t hurt him. Come on, Georgia, let’s go.“
“Georgia?” Maggie chuckles as she follows him out of the back, not once questioning why she was so compliant.
He turns around, a cheeky grin on his face, tongue sticking out.
“You’re from Georgia. Thought it’s a cute nickname.”
She doesn’t even grace him with a reply as she rolls her eyes at him. He was so ridiculous sometimes, but if he weren’t, he wouldn’t be Negan.
„Alright. Let’s go, cowboy.”
Without hesitation she accepts his outstretched hand—it was warm, the complete opposite of her cold hands—and he pulls her into his side, as they quietly make their way from Dillards bar to God knows where.
The Hospital and her apartment were out of the question, but she knows wherever she goes with him, she’s safe and cared for.
She regrets that it took her way too many years to know, and understand, what it meant to be loved and fiercely protected by Negan. She knows he won’t ever tell her out loud—and sometimes she chooses to ignore it for her own sanity—but she knows he’s in love with her, has been for a while.
And if she’s completely honest with herself, she might be a little in love with him too.