It would be normal for her to walk around Alexandria with Negan wrapped around her if he was her boyfriend, or maybe a close friend. It is not so normal because he is a psychopath, perhaps twice her age, squeezing her way too tight, nearly stomping on her little feet as they walk. Brooklyn holds her breath, tilting her head away every time he leans down to say something.

"Sorry, doll, is she bothering you?" he gestures to Lucille who is swinging by her side, barbed wire skimming her thighs as they walk.

It's not painful. It's just that the cold sharpness of it takes her by surprise once it is pressed against her legs. Negan chuckles darkly, bringing his bat to the front of her face, "Here. Why don't you hold her? I'll carry your Daddy hat."

Before Brooke can reply, he pries the hat away from her hands and replaces it with his cold bat. She gasps at how heavy it is compared to what she was carrying before. Nevertheless, her hands wrap around the handle and she dangles it in front of her clumsily.

"Just don't fucking drop her," his breath tickles the side of her face, "Be gentle."

Brooklyn watches as Negan inspects her hat, for a moment thinking that he will actually try it on.

A gunshot makes her spin around, searching for a body or a walker or anything that could justify the situation. She sees Rick breaking into a sprint towards his house. It is her instinct to follow. Negan's hand clutches her wrist.

"Woah, sugar," he grins, placing the hat back on top of her head. That gives her some comfort. On top of that, he also takes Lucille. She sighs in relief, "You're supposed to be my tour guide." Tour guide? First time she heard of that, "How about we go check out what the fuck that was all about together?"

Again, his arm goes around her shoulders and she winces, but her hat is on her head. And it makes her feel better.

She inhales the scent of cologne as they walk to Rick's house. Cologne? Where would he find that in an apocalypse? Anyhow, the scent brings her comfort, so she inhales again.

Brooke tries to keep up with his strides as Negan tries his best to hide his worry. It was a gunshot. And he eagerly takes two steps at a time up the front porch, causing Brooke to stumble a little.

They get into the house and a group of Saviours stand around Carl at gunpoint, but still grinning, "The next one goes into your head," he warns.

Anyone could slice the tension with a knife. Somehow Negan is loose and unbothered. Brooke feels his gloved hand slide up her back and onto one shoulder.

"Carl, Carl," Rick breathes, eyes scattering all over the place, "Put it down."

"No! He's taking all of our stuff!" he raises the gun confidently, "They said only half."

Brooke looks up at Negan's sneering minion, noticing how he seems completely fine with a gun pointed at his face. Maybe it's Negan's presence.

"Of course," Negan exclaims, and she feels his grin behind her, "Really kid?"

"You should go," Carl says, glancing up at him, "Before you find out how dangerous we all are."

The room falls silent. Whether it's awkwardness or fear, Brooke can't tell but she desperately wants Carl to keep his mouth shut.

Negan steps forward and tilts his head to look at Brooke, smiling. His tongue passes his bottom lip as he pulls a face at her, as if trying to keep himself from laughing. She holds her breath, wondering how a man so handsome could be so ugly. When Brooke tears her eyes away from him, he speaks up.

"Well, pardon me, young man. Excuse the shit out of my goddamn French but… did you just threaten me?"

Carl stays quiet, keeping the gun pointed at the sneering man. Rick runs a hand down his face, knowing he can't do anything to step in. Negan would have none of that. Brooke bites the inside of her cheek, knowing that she would regret this later, but there aren't many other options available. She steps forward.

"Carl," she whispers, somehow hoping nobody else would hear, but of course the whole room closes in on her, "Just put it down. It's not worth it."

She gasps when Negan's hand snakes down her body and around her waist, pulling her backwards against him. His lips land behind her ear, something warm pooling down her body, "Look, darlin', as endearing as you fucking are," he places a soft kiss on her earlobe, "Try not to get involved in this mess," there is a pause as she tries to catch the breath she never knew left her, "I promise I'll give you my full attention later," he breathes into her ear, making shivers run down her spine, "You don't talk much, do you?"

Negan thrusts his hips subtly against her ass and there is definite hardness there. It may be his belt. It may be his gun. But it may be something else. And with all these people in the same room as her and Negan, she quickly starts to feel uncomfortable.

She remembers the knife tucked behind the waistline of her shorts and it takes her everything not to reach for it and slit his throat. She glances at Carl who is looking as uncomfortable with the situation as she is feeling. It would not be smart to do anything in the heat of the moment.

Brooklyn takes a deep breath and steps away slowly, turning to look at Negan, "My apologises."

Negan seems disappointed at how she conceals her anger in a small, sarcastic smile. He sighs deeply before rubbing his beard.

"Shit, baby doll. I forgive you," he winks and gestures for his men to resume taking everything, his eyes never leaving hers. Brooke is the first to look away. She places a hand on her hip, feeling the handle of her knife. Patience.

The ugly looking shit that was sneering at Carl has now turned his attention to Brooklyn. He slides past her, chuckling at how the situation turned out.

Brooke notices Carl passing the gun to Rick, and as soon as he grabs it, Negan takes it from him, stuffing it into his pants, "It's mine now."