Chapter Text
Harley
Chapter One (maybe)
Harley looked over at the selection of males she could choose from. Most were sadly beyond saving. Negan had broken their spirit a long time ago. They trembled in their sweats each with a different letter painted on his sweatshirt to identify him. They were lined up outside The Sanctuary in the cold morning air trying to stand still but most failing miserably. Their malnourishment and maltreatment glaringly obvious. Harley was inexplicably drawn to one in particular but when she approached him, he refused to make eye contact with her. His face was covered with cuts and bruises on the right side and burn scars on the left side. The letter A was painted on his sweatshirt. He needed help that was obvious so without another moment’s hesitation she called out. “A. I’ll take A.”
Negan shook his head mystified. “You sure.”
Harley offered nothing in response.
“Ok no take backs for that thief and traitor.” Negan added. Turning toward another Savior He called out “Gary, Take Dwighty Boy, out back and get him ready.”
Harley’s heart sank as she saw a black man drag him out of line and shove him back inside the Sanctuary. He seemed frail and small and frightened half to death. Harley herself was a hardened woman so the fact that a total stranger could affect her so was a foreign and unsettling concept to her. But she tried to reason if she was taking him away from here, she was doing right by him. She moved to go check on her vehicle, but she was irked further when Negan followed her all the way there. Never one to show all her cards she feigned indifference and asked him why he was still there. “My men will select a few more slaves and then we'll on our way. I'm just making sure they can be transported safely.” In truth she was looking for a blanket and if she were lucky a pillow, but no way would she let on to Negan or anyone else that that was her mission. Eventually Negan left seemingly satisfied with her answers and being ignored shortly after.
There was a big van where most of Negan's prisoners were being loaded into and Harley approached it and gave the order “A. The one with the letter A. He rides with me.” None of her men batted an eye at the request no one dared. He was just shoved unceremoniously out of line toward her.
A young boy called out to him on the verge of tears “No Dwight don't leave me.”
In a near whisper Dwight answered “Tyler, I'll be okay.”
Harley helped Dwight into the back of her SUV and got in beside him signaling to her driver to take off. Dwight leaned his head back and tried to fall asleep, but his adrenaline was pumping, and he couldn’t settle down. As soon as they had put several miles between them and the Sanctuary and they were sure they weren’t being followed by Saviors, Harley started to tend to Dwight in even with the vehicle unable to stop. “How bad are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“Answer me honestly.”
“I just got roughed up a bit by Negan’s men last night.”
Harley leaned over and placed a rough blanket over him. It might not be the most comfortable, but it would help keep him warm and the gesture might help convince him that she wasn’t out to hurt him. “When we get to our destination, I’m taking you up to medical for an intake assessment exam. You want to tell me right now what hurts or we could wait until one of our medics finds out for us.”
“My face as you can tell from the cuts that are bleeding and my ribs mostly.”
“Your scars?”
“They burned me a few months ago because I stole medicine for my sister.”
“Our doctor will want to examine them too in case she can do something to help.”
“Like what?”
“There may be a treatment involving a scar reducing cream or a surgical skin graft. We’ll have to see what she says.” Harley pulled a small first aid kit from her bag and removed a thermometer. “Open up please.”
“Why?”
“You’ve never had your temperature taken before?” Harley looked incredulous.
“Yes of course. But why here and now?”
“Because I’m going to make use of the time, we have enroute to our destination to establish a baseline. We’ll take your vitals again when we get inside and compare the results. Now let me get this under your tongue I promise it won’t hurt.”
He begrudgingly complied and Harley got the distinct impression he was stalling but why he was she had no clue. When she read the thermometer’s readout she started to suspect why. “103? Really? You couldn’t tell me you weren’t feeling well? I asked you what hurt.”
“I haven’t been feeling well for a few days and I guess I got used to it. I honestly didn’t know I had a fever.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I worried a sick prisoner would be executed. I figured whatever I have would go away eventually.”
“Give me your arm. I’m going to finish taking your vitals.”
He pushed his arm out from behind the blanket and thrust it toward Harley. She put a blood pressure cuff on him and checked his pulse which she said was elevated. And that was the last thing he remembered doing before Tyler was standing over him hours later.