"What's the matter with you?" he asked, lightly nudging her shoulder.

"I don't know," Maisie sighed, bowing her head and looking at her boots.

When a gurgling noise reached her ears, she looked up and cried out as she saw Glenn's eye popping out of its socket through the crimson blood he seemed to be drowning in. She stumbled back, struggling to breathe.

"No!" Maisie wailed, horror flooding her system when Abraham appeared beside Glenn, blood streaming down his face. As he raised two fingers, she let out shuddering sob.

Maisie woke up a complete mess; her heart pounded at an obnoxious rate, she was drenched in cold sweat, and tears dampened her cheeks. She didn't need a mirror to know she looked like shit. Felt the same way, too.

She laid on her back for a few minutes, pressing her hands against the sides of her face until she calmed down enough, as someone started knocking on her door. Go away, she whined internally, hauling herself out of bed, and swiping her fingers under her eyes and over her cheeks. As she pulled open the door, her jaw dropped momentarily.

Dwight stood in front of her, and beside him, held by the collar of his soiled beige sweatshirt, was Daryl. His face formed a strange expression, and Maisie suddenly felt naked standing in the black tank top and grey shorts she'd been sleeping in.

"What do you want?" Maisie sighed, running a hand through her messy hair.

"Negan-"

Before Dwight could finish, he glanced to his left and dropped into a kneel, pulling Daryl down with him.

"What —?" Maisie started, staring down at the pair, before she saw the black boots and dark grey pants walk up behind them. Her eyes slowly travelled upwards until they landed on Negan's smug face.

"I want to see you in my office right now. That's a fucking order," Negan added, seeing her hesitation.

"But — I, uh... Oh, alright," Maisie sighed, abandoning her attempt to find shoes under Negan's hard look. She joined them in the hallway and closed her door.

Maisie followed Negan in the opposite direction from Daryl, and glanced over her shoulder at him; his face had a mixture of confusion and betrayal on it before she turned the corner and he disappeared from view.

He thinks I'm a traitor.

The icy cold floor under her bare feet was torturous enough, coupled with the uncertainty of what exactly Negan wanted with her, and what was so urgent that she wasn't allowed to change or put on shoes.

"What is this, a fucking slumber party?" a Savior called as she scampered in Negan's shadow. Negan stopped to give the man a dangerous glare before he continued his brisk stride.

Once inside his office, he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. As she sat down, Maisie had brief flashbacks of sitting in the principals office during high school. She pulled her knees up to her chest, absently rubbing her toes to warm them up. She glanced tiredly out the window in an attempt to note the sun's position, surprised that it was nearly noon. She was never one to sleep in for so long. Her nightmare had drained her of her energy, and she yawned.

"You're just too fucking adorable, huh," Negan exclaimed, a little too loudly.

Maisie gave him a weak smile, hugging her knees tighter. "Why'd you wanna see me?"

"Because, I would like to know if you wanna be my wife!" Negan boomed, presenting a ring to her.

Maisie was confused; she'd never seen a ring on the fingers of his other seven wives, what made her so different? And then the realization of his question dawned on her, and her confusion was replaced by horror.

"I-I...uh- c-can I think about it?" Maisie squeaked.

Negan's eyebrow raised in a confused way. He had expected her to say yes immediately. "Sure," he said slowly, reaching over and placing the ring on her side of the desk.

"Take this until you figure it out. In the mean time, I'll be at Alexandria, making those little pigs pay for hurting you," Negan said shortly, his demeanor changing immediately at the mention of the incident.

Although she was flattered he wanted to avenge her, she didn't want her friends to get hurt.

"Please, don't hurt anyone!" Maisie blurted before she could stop herself.

"Are you ordering me?" Negan asked in disbelief, his fingers twitching on Lucille as he stared at her.

Think, Maisie, think!

"No, it's just..." Maisie decided to use his sexuality against him. She got up and walked slowly over to him, putting her small hands on his chest and his side, looking up into his face. She could tell it was working by the way he licked his lips.

"It's just, if you really cared about me. even a little bit, you wouldn't hurt my friends..." Maisie simpered, running the tip of her index finger down his chest.

"We'll see. Lucille's got a mind of her own," Negan told her, holding the door open for her.

〄

The ring felt strange on her hand; it was too big, gaudy almost. It didn't look right with her grunge-esque style, and she found herself constantly playing with it, sliding it around on her finger. It was a distraction to say the least and it didn't suit her at all. After a moment, she let out a grumble and pulled it off, swiftly stowing it in her pocket.

Maybe, in an alternate universe where the apocalypse was still a thing in the movies and Negan wasn't a psychotic killer responsible for the deaths of her two best friends, she would have married him. Although, for that to really happen, it heavily, heavily depended on Negan's recovery from Fatal Douchebag Disease.

〄

Negan's surprise visit left supplies low and spirits even lower. It was like the Great Depression inside the walls of Alexandria. Even Jackson had fallen into a depressed silence, following Tara everywhere she went like he did Maisie.

There was barely enough food to feed the adults once, even with another member of their family taken from them.

"I know things look bad, but I promise you, things will get better," Rick reclared loudly, trying to lift the fallen spirits with words he barely believed.

〄

"Maybe you and I should go for a spin before you become private property."

Maisie jumped at the rough voice that whispered in her ear before her blood began to boil. "That's it," she growled, standing up, whipping around and delivering a punch to Dwight's face that sent him sprawling onto the ground.

"What the fuck do we have here?" an amused voice growled. Negan.

"He was trying to have sexual intercourse with her, Sir," a blunt, oddly familiar voice reported.

Maisie looked up, and her jaw dropped for a second time that day. "Eugene?"

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