It had been so long since this all began and yet, when it counted, when the nights were long and the nights were cold, all Lucille longed for where her husband's arms. To be held close to his chest where she was safe. Negan would have been able to keep her safe from anything that came their way, she was so sure of it. He would have taken charge and done anything he deemed necessary to keep the two of them safe because that was just the type of guy he was. He was all about their little family and had even relented when she had begged and begged him to let her get a chihuahua. He'd rolled his eyes and laughed at her when she squealed in excitement.
Shaking her head at the thought, Lucille curled even tighter around herself. She didn't dare so much as blink, her eyes trained on a little patch of grass in the mud. Michonne was to her left, Rosita to the right. Someone was saying... something but she couldn't focus on the words. She couldn't focus on anything other than the way her heart was racing.
One of them was going to die tonight and there was no saying who it would be. Lucille was terrified, she didn't want to lose anyone else and yet it appeared that she had no choice at all. She hoped, above all, that it wouldn't be Maggie. She was pregnant and she had already lost so much that she hoped it wouldn't be Glenn either. For her own selfish reasons, she hoped that it wouldn't be the man on the other side of Michonne. Abraham reminded her of Negan, he was harsh and rough around the edges but he meant well.
"Let's meet the man.."
It seemed like there was a collective inhale as each person in the lineup prepared themselves as much as humanly possible for what was coming next. We had heard about Negan, a man in charge of the Saviors, but Lucille had never heard the name before and so she had no clue what was coming.
"Pissing our pants yet?"
The four words that made her stomach drop even deeper than it already had. Lucille swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and tried to bend forward further. No, no, no. That voice, she would know it anywhere and yet there was no way that it was her Negan. Not from all the stories she had heard of how cruel this man could be.
The man that had tormenting the group began to tell them about the bat that he swung around and then he let out a twisted sort of grin - told them her name and that admission was enough to send Lucille over the end. She hiccuped back a sob and Rosita, beside her, looked to her long time friend with a frown.
When Lucille and Negan had been separated, she had happened upon a group that Rosita was in. They had all been skeptical, hesitant to trust each other but through time, Lucille was treated as one of their own. Rosita and Lucille were quick to befriend each other, both resided in each other about the secrets that lurked in the dark, that kept them up at night.
Rosita jerked at the sound let out by Lucille and looked down with a raised eyebrow but didn't dare open her mouth to speak. Lucille could only offer the smallest of head shakes. What was there even to say? Lucille exhaled, trying to focus on her breathing because she could feel it getting out of control. Her chest was tightening and it was growing increasingly difficult to keep her composure. Pleaseno. Lucille couldn't bring herself to look up, even as Negan began the little chant. She tensed, stilling in her movements when he would move in front of her.
"If anyone moves..."
Lucille choked on a sob but didn't dare move, didn't dare so much as blink. The only reason she knew someone was being hit, on the opposite end of lineup, was because of the sound. It was squishing and it was violent and..Lucille shuddered and willed it to end. She couldn't do anything about it though, what was there to do?
Negan stopped and began to stroll back toward her, toward the right end of the lineup and Lucille could only shrink further into the mud. Maybe if she wished hard enough she could sink right down into it and maybe she would forget that she just listened to the sounds of her husband killing someone with a bat named after her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daryl lunging forward and let out a silent curse.
"Daryl, stop," Lucille finally hissed through gritted teeth, having to cut her sentence short because she was already breathless. What little oxygen she was managing to pull through her mouth wasn't enough to sustain her well enough to actually speak. "Please," she managed to croak, her eyes raising just enough so that she could lock her eyes on Daryl as he was shoved to the ground beside Negan.
"No more. Please."
October 24th, 2016 at 05:24am