Warning: This whole fic is dark, but this part carries a trigger warning for rape. Please be aware of that as you read.

Princess, Pt. 3

"How are you?" Rick asked as the rest of the group members loaded supplies into the truck you and Dwight had brought from the Savior's complex. It had been four weeks already since you were there last, and it was time for Alexandria to pay their half again.

"I'm fine." You say coldly.

You weren't really fine. Negan was treating you alright, if you didn't talk back or fight him then he was decent. But you missed home, and you were sick of living in fear all of the time.

"Negan hasn't hurt you, has he?" Rick looked concerned and outraged and helpless.

"He hasn't touched me." You say, which was true. He hadn't even hit you again since that first night.

"You eating enough?"

"More than you guys." You say. "We have more supplies than you do."

"Well, just make sure you take care of yourself." He pressed a wrapped bundle of cookies from Carol into your hand. "We worry about you."

"Please don't." You say before walking away and getting in the passenger seat of the truck.

"Ready?" Dwight said as he got in behind the wheel.

"Don't fuckin' talk to me, D-bag." You spit, not even looking at him. You knew he wouldn't dare touch you; Negan had made it clear that anyone who hurt you was going to get Lucilled.

Back at the complex, Saviors set to work unloading and documenting the supplies from Alexandria as soon as the truck parked. You hop down and out of the truck before walking off silently in the direction of your room. You rarely left it these days. "How'd it go?" Negan asked.

"Fine." You say as you walk right past him and to your house.

"There's a group meeting at eight." He calls after you. "Don't be late, Princess."

You slam the door to your house (the complex was set up around a housing development, just like Alexandria) behind you and stomp around the living room, livid.

"Don't be late, Princess." You sneer, your voice dripping with mocking tones and sarcasm. "I'll be as late as I fucking want!" You yell, though you know that you won't. Finally, you rage yourself out, and you end up flinging yourself onto the couch on top of your uncle's vest and crying into the leather.

It was the first time you'd let yourself cry since getting here.

"Ok, shut up everyone!" Dwight yelled right at eight, quieting the crowd before stepping into it himself to listen.

You were at your usual place; standing silently and complacently to Negan's left-hand side, watching Lucille swing casually as he spoke.

"Look," Negan began. "I don't want to have to do this, but that new community, Alexandria did you call it?" He looks at you but you say nothing. "They're not giving us our fair share." There was nothing fair about it. Also, you knew for a fact that Rick was giving exactly half. They just didn't have much to begin with. "So, it's a problem we need to fix."

The Saviors were mumbling now, excited about whatever was about to happen.

"We're going back tomorrow, and we're going to remind them why they should be honest with us." Lucille was swinging faster now and there was an equal parts playful and evil glint in Negan's eye.

"You can't!" You say before you can stop yourself.

"What was that, Princess?" Negan was humoring you. For now. You decide to try.

"They're giving you half." You say. "They just don't have much in the first place."

"Then we need to give them a reason to work a little harder to build up their stocks." Negan smiled that slimy smile that you detested so much.

"That's not fair!" You yell, stepping forward and getting in his face. "You can't punish them for doing what they're told!"

Your cheek was on fire suddenly and you stumble backwards. You can hear Dwight laughing from wherever he was standing. You hold the side of your face where Negan had hit you and step back once more in shock.

"Anybody else object?" Negan asked without taking his eyes off of you. There was silence. "Good. We leave at 9AM." The crowd dispersed and once most of them were gone, Negan walked over and grabbed you roughly by the arm. There was malice in his eyes as he said, "You have worn my patience thin, woman." He shook you roughly and you were trying not to cry. "You are one of us now, so you better start acting like it."

You narrow your eyes at him and whisper, "Never."

That sets him over the edge. He flings you over his shoulder and carries you off across the complex. You struggle a little as he walks, telling him to let you go, but it was useless.

He bursts angrily into his house and carries you upstairs, throwing you roughly onto the bed and tossing Lucille to the side. "You asked for this." He said, unbuckling his belt.

You began to cry.

You hadn't slept all night. Your mind was only playing back the events in Negan's room like a dismal, haunting movie behind your eyes that you were being kept prisoner in. When he had finished with you, he'd let you go home rather than force you to sleep there, but the fabric on your couch felt equally as cruel. You were crying again.

"You asked for this." Negan's voice echoed in your head. The words bounced off your skull like bullets, ricocheting around and lodging in different parts of the bone.

"I did no such thing." You whisper into the itchy fabric of a throw pillow. The spot where he had hit you the night before was purpling quickly, and you couldn't touch the right side of your face. There were other bruises, too. Ones you were too afraid to check on but could feel all the way down to your soul.

The door to your house opened slowly and Negan walked in. "Time to leave." You get up, put on Daryl's vest, and walk, dead-panned and not even trying to conceal your tears, toward the door. "You look like shit." He comments.

Whose fault is that? You think before brushing past him and going to climb into the Jeep. You wouldn't look at nor speak to him for the whole ride.

"Line everyone up!" Negan ordered, pointing to members of Alexandria as the Saviors collected them and put them in a line on their knees.

"Negan, what—" Rick started, but stopped as soon as Lucille was pointed in his direction.

"You don't talk right now, cowboy." Negan paced the line, studying each member of the community separately. "You're not giving us enough." He started. "Either you're cheating us out of half, or you need to step up your gathering game." He smiled, stopping to stand in front of Rick. "I told you, Rick, I didn't want to have to kill all of you, but since our deal has already turned sour, I'm going to have to take one more of your little group. To show I mean business."

No one spoke. Negan began pacing the line again. "This is always the hard part, isn't it?" He said. "Picking which one is going to die." He stopped suddenly and turned to face Daryl, who was watching you instead of Negan. "Tag." He grinned, placing the bat lightly on your uncle's shoulder. "You're it." He raised the bat above his head.

"NO!" You screech, completely coming unhinged.

Negan paused, then whirled around to stomp over to you. "I've had just about enough of you, you little—"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before you had punched him square in the face. He was sent reeling as his nose opened up and blood gushed from the wound. Before anyone else can react, you grabbed the bat and his pistol from the holster on his belt, and send a vicious kick to the back of his right knee. He drops to his knees and you point the pistol to the back of his skull.

No one moves. No one speaks. All eyes are you.

You take a moment to channel your rage and collect yourself. You were probably going to die now. But you were going down swinging.

"So, what are you going to do now, Princess?" Negan asked calmly. He was even smiling. "Shoot me?"

"Maybe." You say deliberately. "But you deserve to suffer so much worse than that." You say evenly. "You're a rapist and murderer. You deserve so much worse." You growl. At the word 'rapist', Daryl was visibly squirming and fuming. You ignore it and examine the bat in your other hand. "This is Lance." You say, claiming ownership of Negan's prized possession by renaming it. Attempting to do to him what he had done to you by refusing to call you by your name. "And he is pretty awesome." You dangle the bat in front of your victim's face, teasing him with the thought of death by his own toy. "And I could totally use him to beat the holy hell out of you right now."

There was silence again as you throw the bat away from you. "You deserve it." You say. "But I won't stoop to your level." Your blood was boiling from the anger and hatred built-up inside of you, and you were almost visibly shaking. "I am the captain of this motherfucking ship!" You yell, not taking your eyes off Negan. "You Saviors belong to me now. Anyone got questions?"

"Yeah—" Dwight started, but as soon as he spoke, you snapped your arm up and sent a bullet between his eyes before dropping it back to press into the hair at the base of Negan's skull once more.

"Anyone else got questions?" There was a thick silence. "I didn't think so." You pull the trigger and the bullet ripped through Negan's spine and throat, and he dropped like a sandbag, falling face-first into the pavement in front of him. You put another bullet into his head to make sure he wouldn't be getting back up.

You look up and everyone is staring at you blankly now. "Um, boss?" James, an older Savior said tentatively. "What do you want us to do?" He lowered his weapon, and the others did the same, accepting the new regime because they had no other choice.

"You're going to go home. One of you is going to pack up my shit from my house and bring it back here, along with HALF of all the supplies in the warehouse. And don't cheat me, James, I know exactly how much is in there. Then, I don't want to see any of your faces again. If I see any member of your group after today, here at the community or anywhere else in the goddamn state, I will kill all of you." You train the gun on a Savior who looked like he was about to protest and say, "Got it?" The Saviors nod, but no one really moves. "GO!" You shout and they scramble to get in their vehicles and drive off.

As soon as they're gone, you collapse, safe and sobbing, into your uncle's arms. "Let's get you home." Daryl whispers into your hair, holding you tight and crying a little himself. He picked you up and carried you to your old room, laying you gently on the bed where you immediately fell asleep. You were exhausted and in pain, but you were safe. Finally.