We have the thing in our shop. It’s a Michonne katana made of plywood. It’s something special, because you can take it to any place with strict security, plus it’s very lightweight.
A/N:I’ve updated my masterlist so now all the Doc and Simon fics are categorized together. There were just so many that it seemed best to do it that way! Reminder: the Doc and Simon fics aren’t technically part of a series, but a few of them do reference each other.
Word Count: 3.0k
“Does that surprise you?”
There had been quite a buzz going around The Sanctuary for the last few weeks. There was talk and whispers about the new doctor that had been welcomed aboard Negan’s kingdom of Saviors, and how everyone was relieved to finally have medical care back at The Sanctuary. The Sanctuary’s previous doctor hadn’t met Negan’s expectations (for lack of a better explanation) and he had been dealt with promptly. Negan didn’t have a replacement on deck, and there wasn’t anyone at The Sanctuary that was qualified enough to act as an interim medical doctor.
The Sanctuary went far too long without someone with a professional, medical background. Saviors were dropping left and right, because without someone who really knew what they were doing to patch people up – there were going to be unresolved illnesses and injuries. The Saviors were getting crafty with treating themselves, and it was beginning to get dicey. Without proper medical care, they were prone to infections and unsterile environments that would make a mild injury something much more serious. Negan was desperate for a doctor, because he couldn’t afford for his people to keep dropping the way that they were.
To be honest, Negan wasn’t really sure where the hell you came from. Negan didn’t really know where most of his Saviors came from. Most of them were already at The Sanctuary when he arrived, and some of them just kind of wandered in and became part of the clan. You, though, were hand delivered to Negan.
Negan couldn’t help but be surprised when Davey, one of Negan’s most resourceful saviors, escorted you into his “conference room” with a proud smile on his face.
“Boss, we might’a found a doctor for you.” Davey had said.
Negan’s face lit up like a noon summer sky at those words. You were an opportunity to be The Sanctuary’s saving grace, and you were the answer to about 30 of Negan’s problems. Negan had turned on his unmistakable charm then, because he needed to convince you to stay.
Correction: Negan had to convince you to stay.
Negan had personally shown you around The Sanctuary, explaining the ground rules and the do’s and don’ts that he had set into place. He had shown you where your room would be, and it was a clean, nice sized room that was honestly more like a small apartment than a bedroom. He spent extra time in the infirmary, allowing you to look around and get a sense of your work environment. It was actually an impressive exam room given the current worldly conditions. With a little bit of work and a bit of a woman’s touch, you could have this place full operational in no time.
There wasn’t any fine print with Negan’s job offer. He said that you’d be the only medical assistance in the whole place, and that the workload was going to be hefty. Negan explained the dire situation that The Sanctuary was in now and (to directly quote Negan) “they were really damn fucking desperate” for a doctor.
There were hundreds of Saviors after all, and with the kind of work that they had to do to keep this place running – it was no doubt that you were going to have your hands full. Negan also told you that you were going to have to tag along on supply runs when necessary, specifically the ones that were more accident prone. Even with knowing that, you were confident that you could make it all work.
It was an enticing offer, and you would’ve been lying if you had said that it wasn’t the kind of opportunity that you had been longing for. You missed being in practice, and the thought of not having to brave this world alone anymore in and of itself was enough for you to say yes.
Sure, Negan’s rules were pretty stupid and really only self-serving to him. At the end of the day though, putting up with a few sketchy rules beats having to barely scrape by with your life every day. So, you said yes, and you were put into effect immediately.
Your first official day was a breeze. You spent most of it familiarizing yourself with the medical supply closets and with the infirmary to get a sense of how you wanted to rearrange it to be more functional. You had a few Saviors come by, most of them were just genuinely friendly Saviors that had heard the breaking news of your arrival, and they were popping in to say hello. It was nice to be welcomed the way that you were, and it was even better to be needed. However, you might’ve been a tad too quick to wish for that kind of necessity, because your second day was a hurricane compared to the first.
From the moment you entered the infirmary to the time you walked out, there was a Savior in your presence in need of medical attention. Some of them were pretty minor, but still worth taking a look at. A few of them, though, actually tied you up for more than an hour or so. Negan hadn’t been kidding – this was in serious need of a doctor. The days to follow in the next few weeks followed that same pattern. You were strung out from the moment you showed up in the morning until the moment you sent the last Savior on his/her way at the end of the day. It was tiring, but it didn’t take you long to fall into a healthy rhythm.
However, you did notice as the weeks went on that the visits you were getting were becoming less dire – both because you had caught up with the injuries and now everybody knew that there was a new doctor in town.
That was one teeny tiny detail that Negan didn’t mention was the lack of women at The Sanctuary. The men outnumbered the women by an embarrassingly large number, and all of the “eligible” women that were present were off limits due to Negan’s wife rule (which you found out through Arat, who had come by to get a poison ivy rash looked at on her arms). You hadn’t been at The Sanctuary long enough to receive one of Negan’s infamous marriage proposals, which meant that you (on a technicality) were on the market.
When the word was fully spread that the newest Savior was a single, non-Negan taken woman – it was game on. It was a competition of sorts, and it didn’t take you very long to figure out what was going on. Suddenly, Saviors were coming in for the smallest of ailments all the way from unstoppable hiccups to a leg cramp from three days before. They were coming up with anything they could to get the chance to even merely speak to you, and then ultimately make a move on you. Some were more forward than others – the nicer ones you had politely declined and the more aggressive ones you had told to piss off. This went on for weeks, and it was beginning to get maddeningly annoying.
Some of the Saviors that you turned down got the message the first time, and only smiled kindly and left you at peace. Others were more stubborn, and a few even came back for multiple attempts. It seemed that they just couldn’t take no as an answer, and by the time your first month at the Sanctuary had passed, you were confident that you had met and seen every Savior for one reason or another that The Sanctuary had to offer.
All except for one.
You had shooed Richie out of the infirmary after his second attempt that week to sway you, kicking him out with a string of colorful language directed towards him. It seemed that the more you said no, the harder that the rejected Saviors tried. You were going to have to come up with something, because this was beginning to really drive you nuts. Not only were all of these empty visits useless, but they caused you to have to fill out a new form each time. Negan was nosy, and he liked for you to have forms made for each visit and then turned in at the end of the day. He said it was for “inventory tracking purposes”, but it was really just because Negan didn’t want anything slipping by undetected.
You sat in your wheeled stool with a heavy sigh, rubbing at your forehead as you used your free hand to write down the details of Richie’s “ongoing ankle pain” that was by far the worst excuse that he had come up with yet. Your scribbling on the paper paused when you heard a pair of heavy footsteps approach from down the hall and stop in the infirmary’s open doorway. Your head fell back slightly in annoyance, and you fired off an irritated greeting without even turning around to see who it was.
“Todd, I swear to God if you’re here again about your bullshit allergy headache then I don’t want to hear it.” You growled, looking back down at the sheet that was resting on a book that was propped in your lap.
The man answered, but it was an unfamiliar voice – and one that did not belong to anyone that you knew.
“Well that’s no way to treat a first timer, is it?” The voice remarked.
You quickly spun around in your chair, suddenly alarmed at the new presence. Most definitely, you had not expected to see Negan’s right-hand man standing at the doorway. A grin was spread on his face, amusement plastered over his features at your rather rude reaction.
You had heard all about Simon. You knew he was second in command, and Negan’s most trusted Savior. Even though no one had outright said it, you had put the pieces together that Simon did most of Negan’s dirty work. In your craze of trying to get settled and fighting off persistent suitors, you hadn’t been allowed the chance to meet Simon yet.
“Oh, Simon! I’m sorry, I….I honestly wasn’t expecting you.” You admitted, a hot flush flooding through your cheeks.
“Most people don’t.” He replied, and based on his most beaming smile – you anticipated that you’d be adding Simon to your list of slimy men trying to get a quick trip into your pants.
You stood from your chair, motioning for him to take a seat on the exam table. He obliged, sitting on the table and waiting patiently for you to get a new form started.
“I would introduce myself, but it seems as if you’ve already been given the rundown on me.” Simon said.
You had to admit, you could already tell that Simon had more personality than most of the other Saviors.
“I have. I think that’s to be expected of someone in such high standing as you undoubtedly are,” You couldn’t help but smile, setting the rest of his form to be filled out after you looked him over. “I get the feeling that you’ve already heard quite a bit about me as well – but for formality, I’m [Y/N].”
“Simon,” He returned the cheek. “I’ve heard a few whispers about you. You seem to be in good standing with the boss man so far.”
“Well thank God for that, right?” You said sarcastically.
Simon chuckled at that, and you didn’t waste any more time getting to the point. Simon had visible charisma. You were intrigued just by looking at him. He carried himself so prominently and confidently, but he wasn’t intimidating – not to you, at least. Something was different about him, but you weren’t quite sure what it was.
“So, what are you here for? Paper cut? Mosquito bite? My hand in marriage?” You questioned.
Simon’s brows knitted together quizzically, and he was hesitant with his answer.
“None of those?” He held up his left hand to reveal that it was wrapped in a bloody shirt, and there was an apparent nasty injury underneath. “You have quite the bedside manner, Doc.”
You immediately felt bad for heckling him like that, and you shifted your demeanor.
“Oh, fuck. You’re actually hurt.” You announced out loud, although it was meant to be a non-verbal thought.
“Does that surprise you?” Simon laughed again.
You turned to the sink, scrubbing your hands and under your nails to get them clean to examine him properly.
“Well, no….but kind of. I have to admit that I’ve had several hoaxes in the last several days.” You explained, drying your hands thoroughly.
“Ah. Has the endless hassling already begun? Usually happens when we get a new lady on board.” Simon replied.
“It’s been constant,” You ranted, mainly because Simon seemed as if he’d genuinely listen. “I get the pickings are slim, but-”
“It’s annoying.” Simon finished your sentence with a knowing smirk as you walked over to stand in front of him.
“Painfully,” You agreed, changing the conversation a bit. “How did this happen?”
The sleeves of your shirt were bunched up at your elbows as you pushed them back – followed by you snapping on a pair of latex gloves. You began to unwrap the t-shirt from Simon’s hand to reveal his injury. Sure enough, Simon had a gory slice from the bottom right corner of his palm that went diagonal to the other side. It was a deep cut, and it wasn’t something that needed to go unattended.
“Got caught on a jagged part of the fence. Usually it’s my pants, but this time my hand got the treatment.” Simon told you.
His voice lowered an octave or so when he spoke, and it sent a rush of tingles down your core. He had an odd effect on you, one that you hadn’t experienced with anybody else before. You held his hand in both of yours, looking over it carefully. He had large, strong hands that made yours look petite. He had a few veins that ran on the top of his hands, and calluses on the pads of his hands. None of this was surprising, considering that pretty much all of Simon’s work was very hands-on.
His injury wasn’t anything life threatening by any means. You could have it cleaned up, stitched, and wrapped in no time. Simon watched you as you intently and carefully looked over his palm. He found it endearing the way you were so focused and skilled.
“Well, I can get you fixed up. No problem,” You told him, with a smile. “You have time to spare?”
“I’ve got all the time in the world.” Simon grinned again.
You wanted to be sure to do the stitches slowly and correctly to give him the best chance of it healing correctly and without a noticeable scar. Simon must’ve had a bit of a queasy stomach, because he looked everywhere but his hand. The two of you chatted while you worked on getting him stitched up, and the longer that the two of you talked – the more comfortable you became.
He was an interesting guy. Simon wasn’t like anyone else here. He talked to you instead of at you. He asked just as many questions about you as you did about him. He was genuinely interested in getting to know you. You found that admirable, and to be honest – you already liked him.
“I have to say, you’re much nicer than when I first walked in.” He announced.
“I really am sorry about that. I swear I’m not that dismissive as a doctor,” You explained. “I just thought you were another one of those.”
“I get it. I know how the male population around here tends to act,” Simon remarked. “I’m not one to make excuses on others behalf, but most of them really don’t mean anything by it.”
“Well, I just hope that their attempts don’t get any worse.” You sighed, finishing the last of Simon’s stitches.
“Believe it or not, Negan won’t stand for that. If you tell him, he’ll handle it.” Simon suggested.
That was hard for you to believe. You doubted that Negan was going to step in to help you fend off sexually frustrated Saviors. Negan didn’t seem like the type to stand up for a woman that wasn’t his – but it was at least worth a try.
Simon did watch as you wrapped his hand, layering and bandaging it to protect the new stitches. Normally, you never minded when people watched you work. It was their body after all, and you understood the curiosity to know what was happening. For some reason, you were overly aware that Simon was watching – and you were extra cautious to keep your movements perfect.
“What’s the verdict, Doc? Do you think I’ll make it?” He joked as you were finishing up, and his smile sent a chill down your back.
“Oh, I think you’ll make a full recovery. Come back in a few days so I can check the stitches and rewrap your hand,” You instructed. “Just keep it clean and rest that hand. It’ll be good as new in a few weeks.”
“Sweet,” He beamed. “Thank you for the help.”
You finished wrapping his hand, and took a few steps back to allow him room to get up.
“Anytime. That’s what I’m here for.” You returned a smile, sliding your gloves off and throwing them out.
Simon didn’t immediately leave. He had a certain glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. He stood on his feet as if he wanted to say something, but was hesitant to. You wanted to know what he wanted to say, because something told you that you’d be happy to hear it.
“I’ll see you around, yeah? Hopefully I’ll see you more often,” Simon charmed, changing his original thought. “Now that we’re acquainted and all.”
Your face went red-hot. He was flirting. He was totally flirting, and you were loving every second of it. There was something different about him, and something was stirring inside that you weren’t used to.
“Of course. You know where to find me.” You returned, giving back the same energy.
Simon’s smile was much more seducing and it had knowingness written all over it. He bid you farewell and exited the infirmary – leaving you speechless and wanting more. Maybe it was a hunch or just a damn good intuition….
But Simon was going to be the start of something wonderful.
Negan: I give up. I am so tired. Dwight: Get the emergency supply! Simon:*carries Y/N and places her in front of Negan* Y/N:*smiles* Negan: AND I AM BACK BABY, LET’S GOOO!!!
“You can’t stay mad at me forever, sweetheart.” Simon charmed, a grin beaming wide on his face.
He didn’t get a verbal response from you, only a pissed off glance that sent a chill down his back. You continued to wrap his right hand that had busted knuckles and bruising skin that was stained with blood – giving him the silent treatment as you worked. It wasn’t often that you were irritated and upset with him, but it always gave him the jitters on the rare occasion that you were. You weren’t pleasant when you were angry, because it took more than the average person to get revved up. Simon was less level-headed, and that was part of the reason that he was in this situation now.
“I didn’t beat him that bad. He walked out of here pretty unharmed, right?” Simon questioned, speaking again to try to get an answer out of you.
That much was true. It had been more of a courtyard scuffle rather than a blowout fight. It was only enough for each of them to throw a few punches before getting broken up and separated. The other Savior didn’t have much injury other than an achy hand and a swelling eye that would be black and blue by the time morning came around. Simon had come in shortly after, just as you were closing the infirmary up for the night. His bloodied nose and the way he had been cradling his shredded hand was an immediate tell – and the victorious smile on his face had been a giveaway too.
“I just don’t know how many times I have to tell you to stop getting hurt at my expense.” You didn’t answer his initial question, keeping your motions gentle as you continued to tend to his hand.
“This is only the second time that I’ve gotten into a scrap with him. This time wasn’t nearly as bad as last time,” Simon reminded you. “I’m not just going to let him get away with shit-talking you.”
“He’s not worth it, Si. You know that.”
“I know, I know. I still can’t just turn the other way,” Simon’s free hand came to your hip to touch you. “You mean too much to me.”
Simon’s fateful Savior opponent wasn’t the most well-liked guy. He had only been at The Sanctuary for about six or seven months, and he had caused quite a stir in the current duration of his time. He had an ego that was so inflated that it was about the only thing that anyone could really notice about him. He wasn’t very fond of the idea of having to work his way up to a higher standing, and he really didn’t like the fact that it was impossible for him to get to the top. This guy found ways to fight everybody over absolutely anything. Simon thought of it as a dominance complex, but whatever it was, it was annoying.
Simon didn’t like him, and he didn’t like Simon. Simon did everything he could to keep his interactions limited with him, only conversing with him when he had to. Simon could handle the harsh comments and the threats when they were directed towards himself – he was used to Saviors who thought that they were bigger than what they were trying to get under his skin. Simon had developed an extreme patience for dealing with that, and now it was hardly even a blip in his day when those comments did make it to his ears.
Simon knew who he was, and he knew what his title held for him. As long as you and Negan were on good terms with him, then he didn’t rightly care about much else. However, today’s fight had been the second one in the last three months – and it wasn’t because the Savior in question had finally gotten to Simon.
The Savior wasn’t thrilled to learn that pretty much all of the women were off limits. The woman that he was interested in often held a “Negan’s wife” title, and he almost learned the hard way just how that system worked. It was one of his main complaints, because he was pretty much desperate for any lady to give him any kind of attention. All of the Saviors knew who you were – considering it was pretty standard to have to pay your infirmary a visit at least three or four times a year, not including the annual physical. When he caught word that you weren’t one of Negan’s wives, he was all over it. The catch was that no one told him that you had been with Simon for just over three years, and that information was lost on him. He started coming into the infirmary several times a week, and each visit was less urgent than the last.
It didn’t take you very long to figure out why he was coming by, which was when you had to deliver the news to him that you were indeed not on the market. Not surprisingly, that didn’t stop his attempts – and it wasn’t until you had to get Negan and Simon involved that he eased off. He was embarrassed from the rejection and annoyed that he had struck out once again, so he started loud-mouthing you. No one believed any of the shit he said, so his comments really just turned into insults. You brushed them off, not thinking anything of it – but Simon didn’t brush them off, not even close.
“I don’t want to have to get used to patching you up every other week,” You told him, your tone a little more friendly than before. “You can’t afford to get hurt over someone like him.”
Simon scoffed at that. He hardly considered him any real threat. Besides, Negan was always on Simon’s side, so it wasn’t like he was risking getting into any massive trouble. Simon was pretty sure that someone bigger and angrier would take care of that Savior’s loud mouth without Simon even having to play into it. He wasn’t worried, but that didn’t stop him from reassuring you.
“I promise you, doll. I’d fight him any day.” Simon snickered.
“Simon!” You scolded.
“What? Listen, he had it coming.” Simon defended himself.
“You don’t have anything to prove, you know.” You reminded him, and he nodded.
“I know that,” He agreed. “But would you stand aside if one of the wives started talking shit about me?”
Simon knew he had you pinned there. You were a bit hypocritical for thinking the desire to defend the other’s dignity was a one way street. It was the truth after all – you would’ve done the same thing if the roles had been reversed.
The first time that Simon had heard your name come out of the Savior’s mouth had been a bad altercation. Simon didn’t even give the guy a chance to explain or allow any room for reasoning. Simon beat him to the ground, and beat him until he physically couldn’t anymore. That had been a rough cleanup, and it took almost two weeks for Simon to heal up and start feeling well again. Simon’s injuries had been nothing compared to his opponent, who was out of commission for double the time that Simon was.
You had not been happy with Simon after that fallout. Your worry and concern drifted into aggravation once you had gotten Simon taken care of because you never, ever wanted Simon to pick fights with people over you. Simon hadn’t regretted what he had done, but he wasn’t pleased with knowing that it had upset you like it had. That hadn’t been his intention whatsoever, but he made a note to himself not to let it get so out of hand next time. Simon honestly didn’t even expect there to be a next time. He assumed that his message had been crystal clear and duly delivered. He was proven wrong, though, when the same thing happened again.
Simon had been finishing up for the night, doing last minute chores and making sure everyone else was squared away. He was navigating through The Sanctuary, passing through the lower warehouse when he heard the Savior’s dreaded voice – and the content of what he was saying was even less admired. It was the same criticisms as before, and it seemed that Simon’s nemesis hadn’t learned his lesson. Simon had kept you in mind as he decided what to do to handle the situation. He truly did try to talk it out first, but didn’t get very far. The fight was broken up before it could escalate to anything major – and Simon didn’t even stick around to bask in the glory. He instead went straight to you to both gossip about it and get his hand fixed up.
“Just try to avoid him….more than you already have,” You requested of him dryly, wrapping the last of his now clean and dressed hand. “Give your hand a few days to heal.”
Simon’s hand fell from your side when you walked away to go back to the cabinet, and he looked at his bandaged hand.
“Do you think I’ll have a scar?” Simon asked, changing the subject.
You reached for a pack of clean gauze, taking it into your hands as you looked back at Simon. He was observing his hand closely, an amused smirk on his face as he looked it over.
“I don’t think so,” You told him. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Ah. I guess I can’t win ‘em all.” He sighed.
He could tell that you still weren’t pleased with him, but you were beginning to crack. The truth was, you were grateful that Simon felt compelled to stand up for you – but you never liked the thought of him getting hurt over it. There were some massively strong Saviors at The Sanctuary, and some of them were bigger than Simon. There had been Savior fights not involving Simon that you had to see the aftermath of, and it wasn’t always pretty. You had seen Saviors nearly beaten to death, and some of them had been beaten to death. You were only irritated over Simon getting involved because you cared about him – if you didn’t love him, then you wouldn’t bitch at him about it.
“So, does your boyfriend get a kiss for being such a good patient?” He asked when you returned to stand in front of him.
His feet dangled off of the exam table as he sat patiently, his brown pools staring up at you with expectation.
“If you stay still and let me clean you up, then maybe.” You replied, soaking the corner of one of the gauze pads in a cleaning disinfectant – it was the best supplies that you had to get the blood off.
Simon’s nose area was bloodied and red, staining his skin and his facial hair. You carefully wiped and rid his face of the dried blood, being careful not to aggravate his nose in case it was broken.
“What are you going to tell Negan in the morning? You know he’s going to sit you down and grill you about it.” You said, apologizing when he winced when you touched a sensitive spot on his nose.
“I’ll tell him the same as last time,” Simon shrugged. “Fucker was being an asshole.”
“And that’ll hold up?” You acquired.
“Sure it will. I think he’d be disappointed if I gave him any other reason,” Simon chuckled. “Do you think I’ll be fine to work tomorrow?”
Simon’s nose didn’t feel broken anywhere, and the worst case scenario was that it’d be sore for him for a couple of days. Simon was relatively unscathed, and for that you were thankful.
“Yeah, just don’t do too much with your hand. I can take a look at it again in the morning,” You offered. “It’ll be okay in a week or so.”
Simon nodded with understanding, standing from the table and rising to his feet. He used his good hand to pull you into him, his tall frame towering over you. You didn’t react much, and he couldn’t help but feel a little hurt.
“Don’t be like that, baby. You know that I don’t make a habit out of getting into fights,” He pleaded for something other than the cold shoulder, “Kiss me.”
It was tempting. Everything about him was tempting. He knew that he had you beat, and that you couldn’t stay pissed off about something that you easily would’ve done too. Against your wishes, your lips crept into a smile – your head raising to kiss him sweetly. He chuckled into the kiss, a feeling of relief flushing over him. He was serious this time that he was done getting into squabbles with that guy, because Simon knew better than to test his luck by asking for your forgiveness over and over again.
“Are you tired?” You asked when you pulled away.
“Unbelievably.” He answered, and it was clear on his face.
“Well, what do you say we go to bed? It’s late, and I could use a good night of sleep.” You told him, and he agreed with that statement.
You put everything back in the cabinet and closed everything up for the night. You’d be back in the morning, but it was always best to secure everything. You and Simon walked to his room side by side, catching up on each other’s days before the fight.
“Negan wants me to scout some place that someone tipped him off about. Apparently it potentially has some useful stuff,” Simon explained as the two of you climbed the staircase to your floor. “I’m supposed to be going with Arat, but I’m sure that I could convince her to take a raincheck if you want to go instead.”
“I’d have to ask Negan. He might want me to stick around for any unforeseen fist fights.” You tried to hide your smirk as he held the door open for you to walk past him.
“Come on, honey. Cut me some slack,” Simon huffed, following you through the door and pulling you back into him by your waist to make you stop walking. “I only did it because I love you.”
That much you knew, and you couldn’t help but notice the sudden warmth in your cheeks at his words of affection.
“I know. I just wish you’d be a little more careful.” You admitted, and his expression turned sympathetic.
“I’m always careful,” He professed, pressing his lips to the center of your forehead. “I’ll always make sure that I make it back to you at the end of the day.”
