RE-WRITING! Guardian Angel. (A Walking Dead/Daryl Dixon Fan Fiction)

Chapter 116.

Luckily Rick managed to retrieve the hatchet, surprisingly, with the help of Negan. After he'd finished talking to Rick, he started up the RV again. Rick sat down beside me, taking my hand. I looked up at him, tears still evident in my eyes. 

"You okay?" He asked me. 

"Yeah." I whispered back, looking up at Negan. 

"What did he want-"

"It doesn't matter." I quickly replied, not really wanting to tell him. I didn't believe it myself, no point in getting others involved. Rick slowly nodded and gripped my hand tighter. After another short drive, we arrived back with the rest of the group. Negan spoke to Rick a little more, talking about what he just did while cleaning the hatchet. I continued to zone in and out, my head still scrambled with the events of this past night. He then ordered Rick to take the hatchet back, and he complied. Negan then stood from his seat across from us, grabbing Rick and throwing him off the RV. He then allowed me to step off the RV.

"Go take your place back in line." He ordered me. With another glare, I walked back over and knelt beside Eugene, my eyes resting back on Glenn's body before I glanced up at Daryl, who looked slightly relieved to see me. I then watched as Negan dragged Rick to the middle of the line up, throwing him to the floor. 

"Here we are." He began, looking back at the group. "Let me ask you something rick, do you even know what that little trip was about?" He asked Rick, who looked around at the rest of the group, making sure everyone else was still okay. He mumbled something before Negan continued. "That trip was about the way you looked at me." He spoke. "I want to change that, I wanted you to understand but you're still lookin' at me that same damn way like I shit in your scrambled eggs and that is not gonna work." Negan explained. "So, do I give you another chance?" Negan then asked, crouching down next to Rick. Rick began to shake, obviously worried Negan was gonna kill someone again. 

"Ye-Yes." He stuttered out. 

"Okay, alright, and here it is the grand prize game." Negan cheered. "What do you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day, or just another crap day." Negan explained. "Get some guns to the back of their heads." Negan ordered before some saviours stepped forward, cocking their guns behind everyone's head. "Now level it with their noses so if you have to fire..." He imitated messy gunfire. "...It'll be a real mess." My eyes shot to Daryl, who's eyes were already on me. "Kid, right here." Negan ordered Carl, who sat still. "Kid, now." Negan demanded, his voice lower. Carl slowly stood up and walked over to Negan. "You a southpaw?" Negan asked as he took off his belt. 

"Am I what?" Carl retorted. 

"You a leftie?" Negan repeated.

"No." Carl responded. 

"Good, Negan smirked, before wrapping his belt around Carl's left arm, tightening it. "That hurt?" He then asked. 

"No." Carl spoke again. 

"It should, it's supposed to." Negan told him, as he wrapped the belt around tighter. "Get down on the ground kid, next to daddy." He then ordered Carl. "Spread them wings." He sang, grabbing Carl's hat and throwing it to the ground. "Simon, you got a pen?" Negan asked, looking over to Simon. 

"Yeah." Simon smirked before throwing a pen over to Negan who caught it before kneeling down towards Carl. 

"Ahh sorry kid, this is gonna be colder than a warlocks ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across your forearm." Negan spoke as he drew a line across Carl's arm. By now, I'd realised what he was going to get Rick to do. "There ya go, that'll give you a little leverage." Negan smirked.