Doc stiffens up considerably when Negan pats him on the shoulder after mentions the kid not being his, pursing his lips, wringing his hands, averting his gaze. Nothing says guilty as charged for thinking with the wrong head in a moment's weakness like a wiggling moustache and a hand running through his hair.

"I would rather no one else show up," he tries to change the subject quickly. "Wouldn't wish this on anyone, unless we were sipping drinks by a pool."

And sure, he would rather be dying next to that pool with someone else, but Negan is all he has. He didn't get this far by being unable to roll with the punches.

"Suppose I'll have to make do with you. Just as you do with me. Let's not- talk about chronic illnesses anymore."