-Seven and a half years. That’s how long Negan was locked behind that damn cell, in those four godforsaken walls in Alexandria. He hated it, counting every day, eating the same fucking meal, being without his bat for so long. It nearly drove him crazy, and it would have if he never say anybody. He wanted to die, he begged people to kill him, he got on his knees and begged Maggie to kill him cause he couldn’t do it himself. It was miserable, and he had hoped for his death to come, to be free from it all, to be with Lucille again.

One day, Negan’s luck seemed to strike out. Gabriel had forgotten to unlock his cell. Negan wasn’t stupid, he’d definitely take advantage of this fucking awesome opportunity. He snuck around Alexandria in the dead of night, taking his old leather jacket back, and his precious bat, Lucille. Once he made it over the gates, he ran as fast as he could. He was free, he felt like a chained dog allowed to run free. It was amazing, surviving again, hunting your own food, feeling the adrenaline when there was a walker. His days became nothing but endless euphoria, and he never wanted to go back. He knew Alexandria would send people to look for him, to take him and drag him back in that dark cell, but Negan would die instead of going back there, and he would make sure of it. No one would take his freedom ever again. He served his fuckin’ time, he regrets all his actions, and now he’s earned his fuckin’ freedom.

Negan held his bolt action tight walking through the woods, enjoying how quiet it was. He always loved nature, and he really missed it. It reminded him of how much he loved walks like this with Lucille. Though of course, those days are long gone. Instead of the calm serenity, he’s being hunted by Alexandria. He remembered you, meeting you in the lineup, and capturing you after he took Daryl. You were strong, and he had taken you and broke you down into his pet, his personal toy, and forced you to learn every way to please him, all the things he liked, what really gets him off. He had even branded his name on your forearm as his way of a wedding ring. There was even a point where you were his favorite out of all his little pets, but now that’s over, and he knew you were still broken and angry. He expected you to come after him. And he was ready. He had been wanting to apologize to you anyway, but you never visited his cell.-