Poker Face

Chapter 9 - Ruminations

Inside you the time moves and she don't fade
The ghost in you, she don't fade
~

Dr. Carson sat alone in his office by the light of a single lamp after a long day of work. He was never off-duty but the only patient he had to tend to was Dwight, who had started healing well but developed an infection that kept him bed-ridden for a few more days. Out of all of Negan's top people, Carson minded Dwight the least. Unlike Negan, Simon, and Gavin, Dwight wasn't a big-headed showboat. He was an asshole who got very irritable without nicotine, but he wasn't a showboat. He kept to himself and didn't complicate the job Carson was trying to do.

Simon, on the other hand, was a patient from hell even though his treatment and recovery were quick. He was in and out with mild pain killers and instructions on what not to do with a head wound, but he'd done nothing but complain about the required precautions like it was the doctor's fault. Carson was sure Simon wasn't fully following his instructions and would therefore take longer to fully heal, which in turn meant he'd have to deal with him for longer.

And then there was Aven. His heart sunk whenever he thought of her, so he'd been trying not to after she was thrown in a cell. At that point, he'd been almost positive she was a lost cause, through no fault of her own. She could have recovered well and adapted to the community but she didn't get the chance. It seemed the only two people in the world who cared about her were himself and Negan. He himself had done all he could with what little power he had, and he had assumed that Negan wouldn't ultimately decide to use his power to help her. So Dr. Carson was relieved and surprised when Negan came to him to say he'd be keeping Aven in the medical room instead of a cell, but when they didn't show up that night like Negan said they would, Carson lost hope again. The poor girl was either going to die one of many gravely unjust deaths or go completely insane.

At least that's what he thought until he was called up to Negan's room and entered to find Aven lying on the couch looking almost as weak as she had when she first arrived, since she refused to eat while locked away.

"Fix her," Negan ordered before leaving to lock himself in his office, intent on getting his shit together. It was quickly becoming all too clear that he couldn't treat Aven like any other member of the Sanctuary or he'd never be able to sleep at night. The obvious solution would be to make her a wife, but among the glaring facts he was forcing himself to accept was the fact that he didn't even want her to know about his wives. He didn't know what that meant.

Yes he did. Of course he knew.

"Fuck," Negan spat, shoving against his desk as he got to his feet. He ran a hand through his dark, slicked-back hair and took in a deep breath, letting it out in a short, conflicted huff. It was too easy to say the words in his head, the excuses and justifications for the the way he was thinking. It was too easy to ignore the little voice in the back of his head calling bullshit. When he ignored that voice he was ineffecient and distracted as a leader, no matter the situation. People thought Negan didn't have a conscience; he couldn't count how many times that accusation had been tossed at him. He did have a conscience but it was still a part of him and who he was. It worked for Negan, in Negan's best interest. Most of the time.

So if he couldn't treat Aven with what he normally deemed fair punishment and he couldn't make her a wife, what was there left to do? You could let her go, said the little voice. Negan burst out with a hearty laugh, and so did the little voice. His conscience had a rich sense of humor.

The easiest option would be to let her off without further punishment and find her a place in the Sanctuary where she couldn't cause trouble. Simon wouldn't be happy to hear he let her off so easy, which didn't matter so much to Negan as maintaining his no tolerance policy, or at least the image of it. How would it look if he let the violent new girl off after a few days of sitting still right after giving the iron to one of his top men? It didn't matter how loyal his people were on any given day; they could always lose faith.

Finally, he came to a decision for the meantime that he knew had the potential to blow up in his face: no one had to know Aven wasn't in her cell. He'd lock the window cover on the cell door and instruct his men to let her rot, threaten castration if anyone so much as picks up the key to the door. He couldn't take her back to the infirmary if he didn't want her to be seen, so he'd have to let her stay in his room until he could find her one of her own.  Of course, if she got her own room he'd have to lock her in and he wondered if she'd react any better than in the cell. He also couldn't help but wonder if he was just making excuses to keep her closer to him.

Negan fell back into his chair and groaned as he ran both hands over his face. He knew he was being ridiculous and he didn't have time to be ridiculous, at least not in this way. But after another brief moment of contemplation, he pushed himself up again and grabbed Lucille before walking out the door. If he wanted to be able to function without Aven popping into his mind every two seconds, he had to just accept the decision he'd convinced himself to make.

You're thinking with your dick, his conscience said.

I know, he thought.

Okay, as long as you know, chimed the little voice.