come away with me

Summary: Imagine having selective mutism and Negan playfully trying to get you to talk to him. It wasn’t that you had been tragically traumatized, you just didn’t like to talk sometimes. The less you talked, the more you could observe. People acted differently when they thought no one had an opinion to give. And you’d been doing pretty good in the Sanctuary, keeping to yourself, minding your own business, until Negan had taken an interest. Characters in this chapter: Negan, Simon, Eugene, female reader Characters mentioned: Dr. Emmett Carson Pairing: None… yet… I don’t know. Maybe I do, and I don’t want to spoil things. Word Count: 1,327 Warnings: Language, Negan and Simon argue, Negan has feelings, as does the reader, what’s happening? Author’s Note: Reader face claim: Sophia Bush POV changes. For the majority of this fic, italics are going to be what the reader is saying in sign language. I am not caught up on The Walking Dead. Besides the fact that Negan is in charge, I have no idea how things work at the Sanctuary or the hierarchy. Please bear with me.  Thank you to @jessica-bones-winchester @raspberrymama @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog & @climbthatmooselikeatree for the idea and support for this fic. It wouldn’t be happening without them. GIF credit [x] Other GIF found on Google.

My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.

PREVIOUSLY ON SILENCE ISN’T GOLDEN:

Shit, your head hurt. You moved to push yourself off the bed, but there was a burst of pain behind your eyes. You didn’t remember falling off the bed, landing on your hands and knees. And you sure as hell didn’t remember screaming in agony.

“It sounds like she has post-concussion syndrome. It isn’t rare, per se, but it is pretty rare for it to happen to a woman as the syndrome tends to favor young males, specifically those that play sports.”

“What can we do?” Eugene wondered, his hands wringing together behind his back.

“Well, to be honest, Y/N shouldn’t be overdoing it. I’m placing her on disability until she is symptom free.” Emmett looked purposely at Negan before continuing. “She needs to be taking it easy; a lot of rest and relaxation. The most she should be doing is going for walks. The fresh air might do her some good. Oh, and don’t get her agitated. The higher her blood pressure goes, the more she risks having another episode.”

Eugene turned to Negan. “We best get workin’ on that sign language if you’re gonna be helping her relax.”

Simon wasn’t happy, and he sure as hell wasn’t shy about hiding it. “She’s not contributin’ in any way, boss.”

“You think I don’t know that,” Negan snapped, hand tightening around the neck of Lucille. “I’m the asshole that threw her down the stairs. Besides, the doc said she’s on disability. Can’t do shit ‘bout that!”

“Come on, she had to have planned it,” argued Simon. “Besides, you didn’t throw her.” Simon rolled his eyes, hand driving through his wayward hair.

Summary: Imagine having selective mutism and Negan playfully trying to get you to talk to him. It wasn’t that you had been tragically traumatized, you just didn’t like to talk sometimes. The less you talked, the more you could observe. People acted differently when they thought no one had an opinion to give. And you’d been doing pretty good in the Sanctuary, keeping to yourself, minding your own business, until Negan had taken an interest. Characters in this chapter: Negan, Eugene, female reader, Dr. Emmett Carson Pairing: None… yet… I don’t know. Word Count: 1,165 Warnings: Language, medical jargon, suspense Author’s Note: Reader face claim: Sophia Bush. POV changes. For the majority of this fic, italics are going to be what the reader is saying in sign language. I am not caught up on The Walking Dead. Besides the fact that Negan is in charge, I have no idea how things work at the Sanctuary or the hierarchy. Please bear with me.  Thank you to @jessica-bones-winchester @raspberrymama @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog & @climbthatmooselikeatree for the idea and support for this fic. It wouldn’t be happening without them. GIF credit [x] Other GIFs found on Google.

My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.

PREVIOUSLY ON SILENCE ISN’T GOLDEN:

You smiled as he showed you the ones he knew. He stumbled through a handful of them, swallowing thickly when you showed him the correct way to hold his fingers. “Not too bad, Negan,” you praised.

“Yeah?” he scoffed, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. He looked as if he were going to say something, something other than a snarky or inappropriate comment, but that moment passed quickly.

“Must be because I’ve got talented fingers.”

With a scoff, you stood, and signed rapidly. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m not feeling well after being thrown down a flight of stairs. You know the way out.” Spinning on your heel, you stormed into your room, and slammed the door loudly.

You couldn’t fuckin’ believe that you were beginning to think that Negan might actually be a nice guy. He even started learning sign language, and it wasn’t because one of his wives was deaf; you were the only person in the Sanctuary that had to use it as a form of communication.

Falling back on your bed made you grunt painfully. You threw your arm over your stinging eyes, focusing on the pain, letting it remind you that it was Negan that was responsible for the pain and agony you were in, it was Negan that didn’t know when to shut his fuckin’ mouth, to use the filter that everyone else on earth seemed to have. Well, not everyone. And what the hell was with the way you were acting towards him mere minutes ago; praising his actions, having some sort of other feeling towards him than disgust? It was like you didn’t even know who you were.

Shit, your head hurt. You moved to push yourself off the bed, but there was a burst of pain behind your eyes. You didn’t remember falling off the bed, landing on your hands and knees. And you sure as hell didn’t remember screaming in agony.

Summary: Imagine having selective mutism and Negan playfully trying to get you to talk to him. It wasn’t that you had been tragically traumatized, you just didn’t like to talk sometimes. The less you talked, the more you could observe. People acted differently when they thought no one had an opinion to give. And you’d been doing pretty good in the Sanctuary, keeping to yourself, minding your own business, until Negan had taken an interest. Characters in this chapter: Negan, Eugene, female reader, Iris [minor ofc] Characters mentioned: Dr. Emmett Carson Pairing: None… yet… I don’t know. Word Count: 1,756 Warnings: Language, Negan is confused about things, so is the reader. Author’s Note: Reader face claim: Sophia Bush. POV changes. For the majority of this fic, italics are going to be what the reader is saying in sign language. I am not caught up on The Walking Dead. Besides the fact that Negan is in charge, I have no idea how things work at the Sanctuary or the hierarchy. Please bear with me.  Thank you to @jessica-bones-winchester @raspberrymama @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog & @climbthatmooselikeatree for the idea and support for this fic. It wouldn’t be happening without them. GIF Credit [x] Other GIFs found on Google.

My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.

PREVIOUSLY ON SILENCE ISN’T GOLDEN:

Negan wasn’t the type of guy to hang around when someone got hurt, let alone go in and see them afterward. Normally, Negan would go about his day-to-day routine, making sure everyone was doing their jobs, keep the Sanctuary running smoothly, making sure no one stepped out of line, and if they did, there was hell to pay.

Y/N sat up slowly and glared at Negan. ”He’s done more for me than anyone else in this fucking camp of yours; yourself included.” Her signing was slower than before, movements almost stuttered, jerky.

Negan narrowed his eyes. “You’d do best not to talk to me like that.”

”What are you gonna do, beat me over the head with Lucille like you did Glenn and Abraham?”

The silence that stretched was thick, filled only by the rapid breathing of Negan as he glared at Y/N. He had to give her credit, she wasn’t backing down, cowering like everyone else before her. She sat up slowly, hiding the wince of pain as it roared in her head.

*Get the fuck out,” she demanded, nostrils flaring, face red, hands shaking.

“My fuckin’ pleasure.” With a huff, Negan stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Negan took all of his frustrations with Y/N out on a herd of walkers. A herd of walkers he had no business fighting. It was after curfew, and Negan was by himself, but he didn’t fuckin’ care.

“Rules are meant to be broken,” he growled as he bashed in the head of a crawling, almost dead walker. “‘Specially when I’m the one that fuckin’ makes ‘em.”

Summary: Imagine having selective mutism and Negan playfully trying to get you to talk to him. It wasn’t that you had been tragically traumatized, you just didn’t like to talk sometimes. The less you talked, the more you could observe. People acted differently when they thought no one had an opinion to give. And you’d been doing pretty good in the Sanctuary, keeping to yourself, minding your own business, until Negan had taken an interest. Characters in this chapter: Female reader, Negan, Eugene, Dr. Emmett Carson, Dwight Pairing: None… yet… I don’t know. Word Count: 1,418 Warnings: Language, injury, slight medical jargon, Negan is pissed off, so is the reader Author’s Note: Reader face claim: Sophia Bush POV changes. For the majority of this fic, italics are going to be what the reader is saying in sign language. Eugene translates sign language for Negan in this chapter. I will not be adding ‘Eugene translates’ for these times. Negan will be answering as if it were a ‘normal’ conversation. I am not caught up on The Walking Dead. Besides the fact that Negan is in charge, I have no idea how things work at the Sanctuary or the hierarchy. Please bear with me.  Thank you to @jessica-bones-winchester @raspberrymama @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog & @climbthatmooselikeatree for the idea and support for this fic. It wouldn’t be happening without them. GIF credit [x][x] Other GIFs found on Google.

My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.

PREVIOUSLY ON SILENCE ISN’T GOLDEN:

Let. Me. Go,” she demanded, taking a step back, a look of repulsion on her face.

“Everythin’ alright, boss?” Simon called from below. The two of them stood there, glaring at each other, for several long, thick moments. But it wasn’t until Simon approached the stairs that Negan said anything.

“Yeah,” he called down. “Y/N was just leaving.” Negan loosened his grip just enough that you had no problem yanking it away from him. Which was a bad idea, given that you already teetering on the edge of a step.

Negan felt like shit, and it had everything to do with the guilt that roared through him when Y/N looked at him after he uttered those three words, ‘someone like you.’ He didn’t fuckin’ mean it the way it came out. As if that weren’t bad enough, to top it off, he was responsible for the fact that she fell down the stairs. He hadn’t intended to hurt her.

Eugene’s surprised tone pulled Negan from his thoughts. “You’re still here.”

“A’course I’m still fuckin’ here,” he snapped. “Where the fuck else would I be?”

Eugene looked down at his hands nervously. “He- here, of course,” he sputtered.

“One of my people gets hurt, I’m right there with ‘em.” Negan squeezed the bridge of his nose, hoping the oncoming headache would pass.

“Y/N is alright,” Eugene said softly, knowing how Negan despised it when people raised their voice to him. “No broken bones.”