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write-havoc · 6 years

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This Is How I Disappear Ch. 1

Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Completed (story continues in The Flame Is Gone, The Fire Remains)

Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut

Readers 18+ of age only

Masterlists in my bio

Tears stream down Chuck’s face as she sits in her small room, writing in her diary. It wasn't always like this. Sure, it’s the apocalypse and all, but it hadn’t always been this bad for her. After the dead started walking, Chuck had wandered around by herself for a while. She knew that people would be scared and desperate and, therefore, dangerous, so she tried her best to stay away from them. Having zero experience with weapons and poor fighting skills meant that simply not engaging groups of the living or the dead was the easiest and most effective way to survive for Chuck. At least for a time, anyway.

Chuck moved from place to place, as long as it was desolate and safe. When other people or the dead got too close, she’d leave to find another place to call home. At first, food and water weren’t that hard to find, but after a while, supplies became severely limited as buildings were picked over by other survivors.

While looking for the provisions that she desperately needed, Chuck ran across what appeared to be a formerly upscale nursing home surrounded by a high fence. There was a faded wooden sign set beside a large gate painted with the words “Rolling Acres”. She staked it out and discovered that a small group of people had made it their home. These people were mostly middle aged and elderly men and women, but there were a few men in their mid twenties, close to Chuck’s age, as well. They had enough land that they utilized by building a large vegetable garden and raising chickens and a few cows. Chuck could see that there was an array of solar panels set up on the roof, as well. As far as she could tell, it seemed like they were doing fairly well for themselves. Chuck weighed the pros and cons of going it alone vs living in a community and decided that she would approach them. She could always leave later if it didn't work out, she figured.

It only took a short while for Chuck to decide to stay permanently. The whole reason she thought that going it alone was the safest option was because she didn’t trust people. But the people at Rolling Acres were good and she did have a good life with them. She had enough food, a safe place to sleep, plus running water and electricity. She even had a job as the assistant to the community's doctor, Dr. Stewart, a kind elderly man. He taught her many things about basic first aid as well as more in depth medical care. Having always been a fast learner, Chuck rather quickly became comfortable working around the infirmary.

Ever since Chuck was little, it had always taken her a long time to feel truly comfortable around people. She was a little awkward and painfully shy, traits that didn't seem to go away with the end of the world. Even though she had always been most comfortable by herself, she had become close with a few of the members of the group, even considering them to be like family. Being one of the youngest and quietest members of the community, most of the others tended to see her as a child. Just a shy girl that stuck to herself. Not that that was any different from the time before the dead started to walk. Chuck had never been the social butterfly.

The group had lived together peacefully without major incident for about two years. But all that changed when a horrible flu had spread through the community, catching everyone off guard. Almost all of the residents fell ill and all of the elderly and infirm had died from the illness. Chuck and the other younger residents tried to prevent the dead from turning, but there were too many to take care of and too few healthy people to do it fast enough. More quickly than Chuck and the others expected, the dead reanimated, and they tore through the rest of the group, quite literally. When all was said and done, only Chuck and three young men had managed to stay alive.

One of the men, Jacob, had stepped up to become the leader. He was in his early thirties and older than the rest of the survivors by at least a few years. His natural charisma and abilities made him a natural choice for leading the small group. Under his leadership, the four of them worked together to try to get their home back to the way it had been. All the corpses were burned and all the rooms were cleaned top to bottom. It was hard work, but necessary if they wanted to resume the lives they had been living before.

Jacob had convinced the other men to focus on scavenging outside the gates, leaving Chuck to do most of the jobs at home. She tried her best to keep up with the work, but it was too much for her to do by herself. She soldiered through it, though, thinking that it was fine because she was safe and fed.

That didn’t last for long. Eventually, Chuck saw the men change. It seemed they got more and more violent with every scavenging trip. They spoke of what happened beyond the walls and it disgusted Chuck. They reveled in the ways that they killed the dead and even bragged about the living that they had slaughtered. Chuck had begun to distance herself from them spending more time alone in her room, hoping they wouldn't turn their wrath on her. Of course, she wasn't so lucky.

In time, being raped became a routine for Chuck. One night, Jacob had asked her to sleep with him. When she refused, he took what he wanted from her. It didn't take too long before all three men would take turns raping her, each having his own night alone with her. Being the leader, Jacob took most nights, though, and he was the roughest of the three. Although this was a living nightmare for her, she never fought back or tried to run. Both options seemed to be like suicide to her, the men were much stronger than her and it had been so long since she had fought off the dead by herself. When they were with her, the only thing she could to was dissociate from what they did to her. Every morning she would wake up, do her jobs, and try to forget the night before.

Currently, Chuck is sitting on her bed worrying about exactly what the rest of the day would bring. Will is on guard duty at the gate while Jacob and Dennis had gone out on a mission. Jacob had been watching a group that seemed to make routine runs for supplies. Supplies that Rolling Acres is in desperate need of. He was confident that he could take the group out and steal the truck with everything inside. Chuck thought it was too dangerous to deal with other people, but she didn't voice her opinions to the men. They wouldn't listen to her anyway.

A little bit later into the night, Chuck’s door swings open and she is met with Jacob’s grinning face.

“Aren't you going to ask me how our mission went, honey?”

I really don't care.

“Good, I'm assuming,” she says apathetically.

“Why don’t you lighten the fuck up?” He spits the callous words out like it‘s nothing. “We got tons of nice shit tonight. We got meds. Fresh fruit. Booze! Even got something for you.” With that, he tosses a hunk of black cloth at her.

She catches it and holds it out in front of her to get a good look at it.

A little black dress? Are you kidding me? Why would I want this?

“Why don't you put that on and join us in the rec room? We're celebrating tonight!” He turns and leaves unceremoniously.

Reluctantly, she does as she’s told, knowing that if he wants her in that dress, she’d end up in it no matter what. It’s a bit too tight, but she gets it zipped up. She’s not sure if that was how a garment like that was supposed to fit, never having the confidence to wear sexy clothes in her previous life. She was always a T-shirt and jeans kind of girl, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself.

She gets up to look at herself in the mirror and all she is embarrassed at what she sees.

My boobs are almost spilling out of the top it’s so low cut and revealing! Ugh, this skirt is so short. If I bend over, my butt will hang out.

I hate being looked at the way they're gonna look at me dressed like this .

There is nothing to this dress, it's so skimpy. God, I'm so uncomfortable. Why can't they just leave me alone?

She leaves her room quickly, not wanting to make Jacob wait. As she walks the empty halls to the rec room, music and laughter slowly drift to her ears. She turns a corner and walks slowly through the double doors to the source of the noise. Will and Dennis sat on a couch with a few open bottles of liquor on the coffee table in front of them, obviously a bit drunk already. Jacob is standing off to the side of the couch, holding his own bottle of liquor and laughing like everything is great. Chuck hates having to pretend like the way they are living is normal, like there is anything worth celebrating tonight or any night.

“Oh shit! You look hot in that dress,” Will proclaims as Dennis lets out a whistle.

“Shut the fuck up, guys. This is all for me tonight,” Jacob says while coming forward and grabbing Chuck’s hand, pulling her into his chest. He wraps his other arm around her lower back and begins to sway with her to the music. He holds her close to him for a few songs, staring intently at her face. “Isn't this nice, honey?” he breaths out, trying to sound sweet but failing. His pet name for her always turned her stomach. He drags his hand across her cheek, tucks a lock of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, and cups the back of her neck possessively. She always hated it when he touched her face.

“Uh, yeah. It's very n-nice, Jacob,” she replies as steadily as she possibly can while looking straight forward into his neck.

“Do you want a drink?” Jacob whispers in her ear. Chuck had only ever had a few sips of wine in her whole life and never had the want to drink anything more.

Maybe I can get hammered and not even remember what will happen tonight. That doesn't sound so bad, actually.

“Yeah. I'll have some.”

Jacob begins to walk over to the coffee table to retrieve the bottle of whiskey he had set there.

“Did you guys hear something?” Dennis slurs out, looking toward the far wall.

“No. What did it sound like-“ Jacob is interrupted by every door in the room opening at the same time. Several men pour into each entrance until the room was virtually filled. Chuck and the three men are completely surrounded in seconds and wildly look around at all the movement. Will tries to stand and pull his gun, but is swiftly taken to the ground and disarmed.

“Alright. I'm gonna need you people to get on your knees right now,” bellows a tall man with a mustache who is walking toward the middle of the room. Will is already on his knees and, after looking around at all the very armed strangers, the rest join him. Chuck kneels down at one end of the lineup with Jacob to her right. The intruders come up behind the group and begin to search them, pulling out all their weapons and pocketing them. Chuck has nothing on her, but is thoroughly searched anyways.

This is so bad. I knew messing with that other group would be dangerous. I knew it! These guys are going to kill us. God, I hope they do it quick.

Oh god, I'm wearing this stupid dress. What if they think I'm a sex slave or something. I don't want them to use me like that. I can just imagine what these men are capable of.

I'm wearing practically nothing. They can see I don't have any weapons. Why won't this guy get his hands off of me?!

Chuck looks up from her thoughts to the mustached guy, who seems to be glaring at the man behind her who is “searching” her very thoroughly. The groper looks to the mustache man and steps back quickly, empty handed, and joins the others behind the group. The mustache man’s gaze lingers on Chuck for several seconds as everyone finishes up.

With the search all done and the group disarmed, the mustache guy calls out, “Good! It's all ready for you, boss!”

The men behind the mustache man part and another man comes through. He is tall and lean with a salt and pepper beard, dressed in a black leather jacket and loose gray pants. The middle aged man has jet black hair slicked back perfectly. But the only thing Chuck can focus on is the barbed wire covered baseball bat he has slung over his shoulder.

“Is this it?” the new man asks with an air of condescension, gesturing to the group.

“Yup. No one else on the property,” mustache man replies casually.

“Really?! No shit! How did these sorry fucks kill four of my men and drive off with a shit ton of my shit?”

This man’s voice ticks something in Chuck’s brain. She no longer focuses on the bat, but on the man’s face. She recognizes him.

Oh my god. That's… my gym teacher from high school! That's Coach Negan! He has a beard now and he’s a bit thinner, but that's totally Coach!

Chuck’s first instinct is to jump up and scream for the familiar man to take her away from here, away from them. The dangerous look on Negan’s face gives her pause, though. She knows this world can change people into monsters, that fact evident with the men currently kneeling beside her. They had been different before, good even, when she had first met them. This Negan standing before her may be wholly different from the one she last saw when she was a senior in high school seven years ago. He could even be far worse than the men beside her and she has no way of knowing just yet. With that in mind, she decides that she doesn’t want to call attention to herself. He probably wouldn’t recognize her if she just keeps her mouth shut. She has to look completely different now than what she did in high school, right?

Who am I kidding? I probably look exactly the same. Same strawberry blonde hair. Same fair skin. Same freckled cheeks. Same big, green eyes. Maybe a little thinner, but not much, really.

Ugh. Maybe he just won't remember me, period. People generally don't pay me any mind. I pretty much try not to be memorable. Sure, I had kind of a special relationship with him back then, but he had to have taught a ton of people, probably had a bunch of favorite students. Surely, he wouldn't remember one kid out of all of them.

Just to make sure he doesn’t recognize her, she keeps her face down to hide it behind her long wavy hair.

Negan starts to pace in front of the group and gestures dramatically as he speaks. “Well this kinda ruins my fuckin’ plan here.” He seems to fake disappointment by dramatically lowering his shoulders. “See, I usually line you guys up, introduce myself,” he puts his free hand on his chest and leans closer to the group, “I'm Negan, by the way,” he stands back up fully, “put on a nice fuckin’ show for y'all, introduce you motherfuckers to Lucille here,” he holds out his bat and gestures to it, “by beating the holy fucking fuck out of one of you cocksuckers. The rest of you piss your pants, cry, the whole nine fucking yards and then,” he pauses to look over the group, “you agree to provide for me. I take half your shit, then you pay me every fucking week not to fucking kill any more of you. Bing bang boom. Home in time to fuck one or two… or three of my wives.” He pauses again. He looks over the men kneeling in front of him, completely ignoring Chuck. Something he sees seems to amuse him and he chuckles. “I mean, shit! I was under the impression that you motherfuckers that attacked my fuckin’ supply truck were part of a fuckin’ bigass group holed up in this big fuckin’ place. But that ain’t the fuckin’ case, apparently. Shit, if I take half the shit that you got in this place right now, that might not be so fucking bad, but what then? How much shit can two guys continue to provide for me? You know. Since one of you sorry fuckers isn't gonna see tomorrow." He chuckles. "Alive, anyway.”

“Three,” Will chimes in, for some reason.

Negan snaps his gaze to him. “Excuse me?”

“There would be three of us… left. If you k-killed one of us. We have four p-people... sir,” Will manages to get out.

Negan glares at Will for a moment then looks over the group. He whips Lucille around to point straight at Will’s face. “You're abso-fuckin’-lutely right, Mr. Smartypants, but don't fuckin’ interrupt me again.” His tone switches from jovial to dark in the span of seconds. Negan glares at Will for a few moments then smiles and turns to face Chuck. “How could I forget about this pretty little lady right here? Though I doubt how much shit she could scrounge up for me out there lookin’ like that.”

Will, you idiot! Don't try to suck up to him! Why didn't you just keep your mouth shut?!

Negan walks over to Chuck and crouches down in front of her. He pauses for a moment, looking her up and down, then takes her chin in his hand, gently lifting her face to meet his. She searches his eyes for some sort of recognition, but sees none. She gives a small internal sigh of relief that he doesn’t remember her.

“What's your name, sweetheart?”

“Ch-,” she starts to say “Chuck” but thinks better of it. “Chuck” isn’t exactly a common nickname for a girl and Negan may remember her for it. “Charlotte,” she answers quietly.

“Hmm.” He’s not really paying attention to what she says, anyway. He seems to be scrutinizing her appearance. He moves her face up and turns it this way and that. He pulls one arm out from her body and turns it out, then he does the same to the other. Chuck is confused as to what he is doing. Is he sizing her up? He shifts his gaze downward and puts his finger under the hem of her already short skirt and lifts it slightly up her thigh while cocking his head to the side.

Oh, no. Not him. Please don't let him do this to me, too. I can't take it if he would hurt me.

“You can have her. Take her. She's real sweet. She doesn't even fight back.” Jacob’s voice calls out and Negan whips his gaze up to glare at the man.

“Yeah. He's right. You can do anything you want with her,” Dennis nods, shifting his gaze between Jacob and Negan. Will is nodding his assent, as well.

“You don't find girls like her anymore. She'll treat you and your men real good. If you just let us go, you can have her. She has to be worth more than the stuff we took.” Jacob tries bargaining with Negan.

Negan looks at the three men then turns his head to look back at Chuck as she fixes her gaze to the ground. Tears begin to stain her cheeks.

I should’ve run away. I'm so stupid. Why didn't I leave? Dying out there probably would have been better than this. Things are going to be so much worse now. I always hope for the best, but things always turn out so much worse than I ever could’ve imagined. Why do I even think there is any good left?

“Is that so? I can just ‘have’ her? You’ll ‘give’ her to me?” Negan says in an odd tone, not looking away from Chuck. He slowly stands, walks over to mustache guy, and whispers something to him. Mustache looks at Chuck and then slowly walks over to her. He gently tugs at her arm and she reluctantly stands up.

“Come with me,” mustache guy says in a neutral tone. Chuck’s not sure what is happening, but she’s nervous.

Is Negan actually taking me? Did he really think Jacob’s deal was a good one? Is this man taking me to their trucks?!

The man leads her toward the front lobby, which is on the opposite side of the building from where everyone is. When they get to the room, he gestures for her to sit on a couch set on the left wall.

Oh. He's not taking me to the trucks. I see. I know what he wants...

She just wants to get this over with, hoping that more men, or Negan, wouldn't follow this one.

“I'm Simon,” he says to her before turning away and looking around the room.

Okay, then. I guess he wants me to know his name before he…

Just let him do whatever he wants and maybe he won't be too rough.

Chuck slowly lays herself onto the couch and begins to remove her underwear. She had found that things would go more smoothly for her if she just cooperated. She gets her underwear to her knees before Simon looks back over to her.

“Oh, shit! No, no, no,” he says hurriedly while quickly making his way back to her. He grabs her hands to halt her motion and pulls them back up her thighs, along with her underwear. He gently grabs her shoulders and pulls her into a seated position, sitting beside her afterwards. “That's not what's happening here, angel.”

Chuck looks away, embarrassed, while wringing her hands harshly in her lap.

“Shit, they really did a number on you, didn't they?” Simon gently takes her chin in his hand. He turns her face this way and that, just like Negan had done earlier. He points at her throat with his other hand. “They leave all these bruises on you?”

Chuck barely even noticed the bruises anymore, they were so commonplace. Simon takes her arms and holds them out, examining the bruises there, as well. Then he looks down to her exposed legs and the dark bruises standing out against her pale thighs.

Negan was looking at my bruises. He wasn't checking me out. Of course, he wasn't. Maybe he isn't a bad guy now. And he wants to take me away from here. Maybe I can trust him. Maybe I should tell him who I am.

Chuck isn’t sure if Simon actually wants an answer to his question so she just nods slightly.

He lets out a sigh and looks away. “We're just going to wait here for a bit until Negan is done. Okay, angel?”

“Did… Is he taking their deal? Is he letting them go and … taking me? Like they said,” she says with a voice not much above a whisper.

“No. He wouldn't do that. We're not like that. Our group… we don't do that to women,” he says genuinely, if not a bit uncomfortably to her. “He's, uh, punishing them back there. You don't need to worry about it, okay?”

“Oh.”

So he's killing one of them. He said that's what he'd do and he was always a man of his word. God, my high school gym teacher is killing someone right now. This world really is crazy. I wonder which one it is. I guess it doesn't really matter.

Wait, why am I out here? I'm part of this group. Shouldn't I be punished for attacking his men, too? Why did Simon say I didn't need to worry about punishment? Maybe they knew that I wasn't really involved. God, I hope so.

After several minutes, Chuck hears a door open and heavy footsteps entering the room. She looks up to see Negan, now without his weapon and leather jacket, walking over to the couch. Simon gets up and gives Chuck a reassuring smile before patting her on the shoulder and leaving. Negan passes Simon and takes his place on the couch beside her.

All Chuck can do is stare at her hands fidgeting in her lap.

I can't look at him. He knows what happened to me, what they did to me. He saw the bruises, heard the men talk about me.

Why am I so embarrassed? I didn't do anything wrong.

I don't want him realizing that he knows me, though. I don’t think I could take it. If I'm just some random girl to him, maybe he won't pity me as much. If I look at his face and see him pitying me, I think I'll break down.

Oh god, I can feel him staring at me. Just leave me alone!

Negan lets out a huff and rubs his bearded face. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

She does as he says after she takes a few moments to build the courage.

“Those rapist pieces of fuckin’ shit won't ever lay their hands on you, or anything else, fuckin’ ever again. That shit does not fly in my world. So, Lucille got very up close and fuckin’ personal with the inside of those fuckers’ skulls.”

Oh my god. He killed all of them. Not just one of them. And not for taking from him, but for hurting me. Negan had bludgeoned them to death. For hurting me.

Did they really deserve that? Does anyone really deserve that? Of course, they deserved it. They were monsters. They had hurt me so much. And they had killed Negan’s men for supplies. They were rapists and murderers.

But they had also been good men once. Maybe they could have changed back, been redeemed. Probably not, though. Does it make me a bad person if I'm happy that they're dead?

Negan snaps his fingers in front of her face to bring her out of her own thoughts. “You're safe now, sweetheart. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Coach.” The words leave her mouth before she can think about it.

Oh, no. Why did I say that?! I am so flustered that I can't think straight!

Negan had drilled into us that we had to address him as Coach. “Yes, Coach. No, Coach. I don't know, Coach.” Everything Coach! That training must still be buried deep inside my brain somewhere just waiting for the chance pop back out at the worst possible moment!

Negan looks at her quizzically. He has to know now that he had taught her at some point in the past. He studies her, seemingly trying to place her.

Chuck gets more and more nervous under his gaze. She can feel her heart speeding up and her breathing is becoming shallow. Sweat starts to trickle down her temples.

*hiccup*

Ugh. Why do I get the hiccups when I'm nervous!? That hasn't even happened to me in years! Since high school, probably. Maybe he won't notice. Please don't notice. Please don't remember me. Just leave me alone and let the earth open up and swallow me. This is all too much for me.

Negan quirks his eyebrows, still staring intently. Then, he lets out a sort of gasp. “ Chuck! That's you, isn't it? Holy fuck, I didn't even fuckin’ recognize you? Why didn’t you just say that your name was ‘Chuck’?” He looks all over her as if he hadn't really looked at her until now.

She lets out a sigh and looks up at him. The instant their eyes meet, truly meet, she starts to sob.

“Oh fuck.” He puts his arms around her and gently pulls her to him. She tenses up at the contact, but doesn’t pull away. “It's okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m here now.”

She continues to cry hard as she lets out everything that she has been holding in for months. All her grief. All her fear. All the hurt. He holds her in his arms and gently strokes her head as she cries herself out. After a few minutes, she pushes herself away from Negan and wipes her cheeks.

“You okay?” He looks at her with a small smile, his arms still on her shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” *hiccup*

“Shit, you still fuckin’ do that?” He laughs slightly and gestures vaguely at Chuck’s chest which is still spasming. “Just hold your fuckin’ breath and get rid of them,” he says between soft chuckles.

She holds her breath as long as she can which calms her down and stops the hiccups. He looks her over for a few moments, his expression turning from slight amusement to something more dour, almost apologetic. That look only lasts a moment before he starts to smirk again.

“This place is nice as fuck so it's mine now. I'll leave some men here and use it as a fucking outpost. And you? I’m taking you back with me to The Sanctuary, the best fuckin’ place to be in this sorry ass world. You'll be fucking safe there, I guarantee it.” His expression turns more serious again as he runs his hand over his beard. He looks down at her bruised thighs and sighs. “You didn't deserve that shit. You were always a good fuckin’ kid. I always liked you.”

“Thanks, Coach.” She gives him a small smile.

He really is the same man I knew before. Or at least that same man is in there somewhere. I can trust him, can't I?

“Why don't you go to your room, change out of this shit,” he gestures to her dress, “and pack a fuckin’ bag. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Coach.”

He chuckles and then sighs. “Just call me Negan. No one needs to know about my past.” Chuck nods and quickly walks off to her room, eager to leave the place she had called home for two years, and hell for one year, behind.

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