I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches

An aching silence

The bleak night slipped into a sunny and warm morning, as dawn broke and whispers began to flood the hazy Sanctuary.

It never took long for news to spread in a place like this, and by the time breakfast was over, it seemed that everyone knew the horrific events of the previous night. What had happened to Blake and the baby that they were all joyous to see her carrying.

And there was not a soul there, amongst the workers and even the most hardy of lieutenants, that didn't feel that stab of loss for their queen and the child she hadn't got to bare to full term.

Maybe if Negan had been privy to any of this he'd have got to cry, or yell, or shout. Telling them all to quit with their gossip, used Lucille on anyone who looked at him the wrong way or whispered behind their hand...

...but he got to do none of this.

None of his usual Negan response to the things that hurt him.

No...instead the dark-haired Saviour just sat there....in that hospital room, by that bed.....

...just as he had done all night.

He had got no sleep, and from the sounds of it neither had Blake.

All through the early hours he had heard her crying endless tears.

But all Negan could do was sit there, his eyes on the floor, slumped in that chair, fingers brought up to his cheek.

Now, hours later, she was still....he could see her curled up, still lying beneath that white sheet in his peripherals.

But his own gaze was unfocused...unseeing....

And he only stirred gruffly when what must have been at least a few hours since the sun had risen in the sky, when Carson entered the room, holding a plate full of fruit and bread roll.

Negan glanced up at him but didn't say a word, merely watching as the sorry-looking doctor, today in green shirt and jeans, gave him a nod, moving over to the other side of the bed to peer at Blake.

"Alright, Blake...how are we feeling today?" he said in a gentle voice, placing the plate of fruit down into the small makeshift nightstand by the bed.

But despite not being able to see her turned away face, Negan could sense her unresponsiveness.

Carson frowned down at her for a long moment, before his eyes met with Negan worriedly.

Was her silence what he expected from a woman who had gone through a trauma like this?

Negan, his entire body feeling stiff and strained sat up a little in his seat, blinking his eyes, as Carson dropped his gaze back down to the still blonde woman before him.

"I'm gonna need to check on that dressing on that wound of yours, ok?" Carson told her a little tentatively.

But again Blake didn't say anything.

She didn't even move as Cason pulled back the sheets carefully, just lying there on her side, hair pooling over the white pillow behind her head.

She was dressed in what looked like a lightweight blue smock, and didn't even flinch when Carson lifted up the edge of it and began to change the bandages on the wound at her bare hip.

In fact the trio just remained there wordless and silent as the strawberry-blonde doctor finished his work, and eased the sheet back over Blake's small-looking form.

Normally Negan had a smart-remark for any occasion. It was his defence mechanism, always had been.

But now, it was as though all words were lost on him.

Pointless fucking words.

For what fucking use would they be at a time like this?

Fuck.

Was all this his fault? Should he blame himself now?

Maybe if he'd done something different? Not left her alone today, not run off to Rick like the asshole he was...

Guilt flooded his veins now. But that guilt was soon replaced with a hurt instead

No. He had heard what Carson had told him. Blake was healthy....she had done everything right.

These things just...happened sometimes.

Then who was to blame? Surely there had to be someone Negan could punish for this?

Because sitting here..doing nothing, saying nothing...it was killing him little by little.

"Eat, Blake," Negan heard the doctor mutter again with a lick of his lips, pointing to the plate on the nightstand as he disposed of the bloody bandages. "It'll do you some good."

He walked away from Blake's bed, before pausing at Negan's side. And for a moment it looked as though the doctor was about to pat him on the shoulder, but at the last second thought better of it. "You too," he instead uttered, before leaving the room...shutting the door gently behind him.

Morning soon shifted into afternoon, and afternoon into evening, and by the time the sun began to set in the sky, not a single word had been uttered between the silent pair still sat in that bleak medical room.

The fruit at Blake's bedside remained untouched, and in the hours they had spent in here neither of them had barely moved an inch.

Every part of Negan fucking ached. Not just his old joints, stiff from sitting in that chair for endless hours, but inside him too.

It was as though he had lost a part of him last night...a part of him that kept him going...kept him on track.

But right now the tall Saviour wasn't quite sure whether that missing piece of him was the unborn baby they had lost.... or if it was Blake. Because despite them being only just a few feet away from each other now, there felt like an entire ocean of distance between them.

And so, after hours of doing nothing...of waiting....of pain....Negan gave a frown and got to his feet.

He didn't even have shoes on, and realised just how cold the floor now felt beneath his feet as he paced across the short space between him and the small bed.

Negan wavered for a moment, his breath hitching it his throat, feeling nervous and worried...as though talking to stranger...

...before he finally peeled apart his dry and dehydrated lips and spoke for the first time in almost a day.

"Peaches..." he managed, barely recognising his croaky, defeated voice.

It was full of remorse and sorrow and Negan hoped that just that word alone was enough to have Blake turn to him and throw herself into his arms, where they could mourn together. BE together. Where they were supposed to be.

And not a world away, as they felt right now.

But Blake didn't move at all.

From here, Negan could see her green eyes open...staring.

But to his dismay, her gaze looked hollow, like she wasn't quite there anymore.

"Peaches.." Negan tried again, his voice faltering, as he stared down at her. "...I fucking need you..."

He trailed off, dropping his eyes, unable to utter any more. Hoping she would say something back to him.

Even if she blamed him for everything, yelled at him, screamed at him, it would still be better than this...than nothing.

He stared up again, but Blake remained still, her eyes fixed on that wall dead ahead...

...doing nothing...

...saying nothing...

And so, not knowing what else to do, Negan ran a hand down his exhausted face and turned away, slumping back down in his chair defeatedly....

...resuming their aching silence once more.