Poker Face

Chapter 80 - Just Another Morning

Content warning: Mention of rape.

"You don't learn, do you, you fucking cunt?" he spat in her face, the back of his hand connecting hard with her already bruised temple. She fell from her knees to the floor from the impact and stayed down but held back her tears, glaring up at her captor with all the strength she could muster.

"Aven-" Cindy from her cage on the floor tried to appeal to her as usual, begging her to behave and submit so she wouldn't be hurt anymore.

"Shut the fuck up! You're next, whore!" the man hissed. The man's hands wrapped like a vice around Aven's throat and she soon blacked out. It was almost merciful, because when she woke up locked back in her cage, she could tell she'd been raped again. Again tears pricked at her eyes, and she was about to let them fall when she saw the man was still in the room, now shoving Cindy back into her cage.

"You won't get away with this," Aven hissed.

"I gotta keep you safe, doll," the man said as he turned to face her with a sinister grin, his lips moving but a deeper, richer voice filling the room.

All at once the scene faded and Aven forgot it entirely. She was now standing at the door to her and Negan's room. He stood in the hallway facing her, but there were bars between them.

"What the fuck?" she asked, trying to push through to no avail. "Negan, let me out of here!"

"No can do, doll," he replied. His voice was soft and casual, as was his smile, like he was offering a passing compliment rather than locking her in their room. "I gotta keep you safe."

"You can't keep me prisoner! We're supposed to be in this together!"

"We are," he shrugged, ignoring the angry, pleading tone she was taking with him.

"You can't keep me here like this!"

"I'm not." He seemed to really believe what he was saying, but before she could say another word, he was gone, leaving her locked up. Aven tried to shake the bars before her loose but they wouldn't budge. The world around her faded again and she was now standing in the grass in front of the Hilltop mansion, staring out at the wall.

"Aven, we need your input on something." She turned towards the voice calling her.

"Rick?" she gawked, reaching for her knife on her hip and finding that it, her gun, and her holster were missing entirely. Rick was making his way towards her, disheveled and dirty like the first night she'd met him, only this time his demeanor was calm. It was just a normal day for the Hilltop aside from his appearance. "Where's Negan?"

"He's gone, Aven," Rick drawled with pity in his eyes that only served to anger her. "You know that." Rick nodded towards the ground beside her and she stopped breathing: there lay Negan, covered from head to toe in blood, the bright red hue somehow entirely washing over his black attire.

Aven woke with a gasp. It took a few seconds for her to register that she was lying in bed with Negan, albeit facing away from him and curled up at the very edge of the bed. They'd gone to sleep angry after their argument, which hadn't resolved anything. Negan still demanded that she stay home the next day, and she refused, unsure if she'd be able to go anyway with him harping over her.