Beauty and Her Beast (Daryl Dixon Fanfic)

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When the RV came back, it was light out. Glenn and Abraham's blood had soaked into the dirt, glistening in the light from the morning sun. This felt like a nightmare, a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. My heart was pounding as we waited for them to come out, praying that Rick was alive and in one piece. When he finally came out, he dragged Rick across the ground and Rick had his ax in his hand. He threw Rick and he struggled to get up on his knees. His whole body was shaking. "Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you even know what that little trip was about?" Rick didn't answer. "Speak when you're spoken to."

Rick nodded. "Okay. Okay."

Negan smiled. "That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way...like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work. So..." He crouched next to him. "Do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah." He nodded. We could barely hear his answer. "Yes."

Negan pat his back and stood up. "Okay. All right. And here it is, the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads." I flinched when I heard a gun cock directly behind me and I looked around, staring down the barrel, then slowly turning to look at Daryl. "Good. Now...level with their noses, so if you have to fire..." he put his fist in front of his face, imitating an explosion. "it'll be a real mess."

Negan looked at Carl. "Kid..." He motioned for him to come forward. "Right here." Carl didn't move. "Kid...now." He stood up and walked over. Negan took his belt off. "You a southpaw?"

"Am I a what?" Carl asked.

"You a lefty?"

"No."

"Good." Negan tightened his belt around Carl's left arm and I gasped, realizing what was going to happen. "That hurt?"

"No."

"Should. It's supposed to. All right. Get down on the ground, kid, next to daddy. Spread them wings." He took Carls hat, tossing it over his shoulder. Carl got down and Negan pushed him all the way down. "Simon...you got a pen?"

"Yeah." Simon nodded. He pulled a marker out of his pocket, tossing it to Negan.

He pulled the cap off with his teeth and crouched down, pulling Carl's sleeve up. "Sorry kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlocks ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across your forearm." He drew a line on Carl's arm. "There you go. Gives you a little leverage."

Rick started shaking his head. "Please, please. Please, don't."

Negan smiled. "Me? I ain't doing shit." He stood up, walking around Rick. "Rick, I want you to take your ax...cut your sons left arm off, right on that line. Now, I know, I know. Your gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die...and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"You-you don't have to do this." Michonne spoke up. "We understand. We understand."

"You understand. Yeah. I'm not sure that Rick does. I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice. Nothing messy, clean, 45 degrees, give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably." When Rick didn't move, he crouched beside him. "Rick...this needs to happen now, chop-chop, or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."