Chapter Text
Rick hesitantly opens the door expecting some Sanctuary lackey, and is shocked to see Negan himself and an older, meek looking man whom he doesn’t recognize on his front porch. Negan seems off, and Rick notices immediately that he’s wearing a strange expression. One he’s certainly never seen on the man before. Maybe the expression looked foreign to him on Negan because it was, in fact, what Rick usually looked like anytime he was in any kind of close proximity to Negan.
“How is he?” Negan asks, with- is that- concern ? His voice wasn’t commanding, which is how he usually said everything to Rick. It’s almost sincere, genuine, and again, it throws the other man off.
“What are you doing here?” Rick asks, straight up ignoring his question and confused as to why Negan himself is here. He wasn’t planning on having to actually deal with him today, and it’s just another pile of shit on an already shitty day.
“What? Are you sick too? Or just fucking dumb as shit? I’m guessing dumb as shit. You know why I’m here.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to show up.” Rick clarifies. “Didn’t think a simple medicine run required your presence.”
“When it involves Carl it does.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rick asks sharply.
But Negan is already pushing past him, into their home. Rick all but sprints in front of him. He knows why Negan wants to see his son- to verify his story. It seems a little bit overkill, even for Negan, to go to such great lengths just to get under Rick's skin- but then again this was Negan. But Rick is over it- he doesn’t want to stress Carl out anymore than he already has to. And Carl waking up to Negan of all people in his room would most certainly be stressful.
“ No Rick. Let me see him.” Negan growls out once Rick is in front of him. And again, Rick feels like the other man’s tone is off. It’s not angry, it’s…something else entirely, that he can’t put his finger on.
“He’s miserable, Negan. I’m fairly certain you’re the last person on earth he wants to see, so do you really have to go up there just to check that I’m not lying?”
At that, a small, twisted smile comes across the mans features. “Ahhh Rick. Actually, you’d be rather shocked at how utterly wrong that statement is. I have a feeling you don’t know your son as well as you think you do.”
What? What the hell did that mean?
But Rick isn’t moving. He’s not going to let the man torment his son just for fun.
“You know it’d be best to move.” Negan continues on. “Or you’ll end up like your friends. With your brains all over this pretty hardwood laminate flooring that was so intricately installed in this lovely suburbia home. And then you won’t have to worry about dear ol’ Carl at all .”
So Rick concedes finally, knowing the man has won- again. He nods, resignedly, and trudges up the stairs to lead him to Carls room.
Carls still curled up on the ground in his makeshift bed, his hands clutched around one of the small pillows he’s been allotted, and it seems like he’s still out cold. Michonne is standing there tensed, protectively in front of him. Carl looks downright pitiful, and Rick hopes that the sight will at least make Negan feel a smidge of guilt for taking away their mattresses.
Negan is silent behind him, shockingly, and Rick vaguely wonders before he turns around if the other man has wandered off down the hallway instead of following him. Maybe to terrorize Judith.
His head whips around, and he’s shocked to in fact see that Negan is standing there behind him, just dead quiet. He’s staring at Carl, transfixed, his features clearly emitting what looks to be genuine concern. No smart ass remarks. No goading.
He slowly makes his way over to him, and Michonne is so confused that she actually moves for him. Her eyes lock with Ricks- and they both ask each other the same question through their expressions.
What the fuck ?
Negan gets down on the floor next to Carl, and he puts a hand on the boys head. He sucks in a breath when his hand reaches his forehead, because Carl is positively burning up, and then turns towards them. Rick can’t get over the look of actual somberness on his face.
“He’s not bit, right?”
Rick shakes his head. “No. No, that was my first thought too.”
“You have that fever reducer?” Negan quietly asks the man who has gone otherwise unnoticed so far.
It clicks then to Rick. This must be their doctor. Negan brought an actual doctor, and medicine. Relief spreads over him, mingled with the confusion. He has no idea why Negan is acting this way with Carl, but he knows better than to question it. And he isn’t going to question anything, as long as Carl gets the help he needs.
“I’m Doctor Carson.” The man says to him, and if Rick didn’t know any better he says it nervously. But maybe the doctor is always nervous around Negan. He knew he was. “Don’t worry, we’ll do everything we can for your son. He’s uh- an important patient and all, you know.”
But Rick doesn’t know.
Dr Carson hands Negan the medicine at that, and Negans attention goes back to Carl. His thumb moves to the boys forehead again, running circles over his skin, and then his hand travels to his hair, running through it in a way that can only be described as caring.
So. This is bizarre. Rick thinks he’s slipped into another dimension. Maybe he’s in a coma again? Actually, maybe he's still in a coma. Maybe this whole thing, apocalypse and all, is just a figment of his imagination. Maybe it’s just a television show that is very poorly produced after season seven by a sad, unhappy, little man whose name rhymes with rott dimple. Ricks not going to name names though and call anyone out, because just like the author he’s a good person and not spiteful. At all.
He turns to Michoone again, who must be wearing the same expression that he is. Her eyes are wide and she’s glaring at the sight in front of her. He’s fairly certain if her eyes get any wider they are going to bug out of her head.
Carl stirs a little at the hand in his hair, and he opens his eye blearily. Rick braces himself for Carls imminent panic that he knows is going to come at the sight of Negan , of all people, laying next to him and stroking his fucking hair?
But Carl doesn’t panic. He just stares rather softly at the man, taking in the sight of him. And if anything, Carls expression relaxes .
Okay, Rick thinks. Maybe Carl is just so out of it that he doesn't know what’s going on. Maybe he doesn't even know who Negan is.
That’s gotta be it. Right?
“Shit kid.” Negan mumbles out, as his hand continues to gently run through Carls hair. “You are lookin’ a little worse for wear, huh?” A sad smile is on Negans face.
“‘M I dyin’?” Carl asks softly, and relief spreads over Rick. So he isn’t all there. He really has no idea what’s going on- he must think this is a dream. Negan chuckles softly to him at the statement.
“I don’t think so, but I’m no doctor.” He looks over to the man quickly behind them. “The doctor is here though, and you’re pretty damn sick. You gotta take some of this, okay?”
Negans tone is exuding nothing but care, and softness, and- And Rick is so utterly confused. But maybe Negan is just concerned because Carl is young. Maybe...this entire situation can be explained away because Negan is just concerned about Carl because he feels he has potential. Maybe Negan just cares about kids. Maybe he had a kid himself. Who the fuck knows.
All those maybes are thrown on the window, out the tall second story window, at his next statement.
“It’ll bring your fever down. I promise this will make you feel better, baby.”
Rick launches forward at that statement. No, no, no. No. This is absolutely not happening. He feels a hand on his arm, nails gripping into him, and turns to see Michonne looking at him, shaking her head. He knows logically why she’s stopping him.
“Carl. c’mon.” He hears Negan continue on. “You know how worried you had me? I know I didn’t rush here for nothin’.”
Things are starting to fall into place. Negan did rush here. He did seem concerned on the radio. He was acting like a worried parent, or- or something else entirely that makes Ricks veins run cold.
Carl doesn’t seem like he’s budging at Negans words. Finally, Negan moves to him and full on pulls Carl into his lap. He expects his son to resist but Carl doesn’t, and lets himself be pulled to him like a rag doll. He burrows his head into Negans chest, his hands wrapping around Negans arms and in his jacket, and to Rick he looks a little too comfortable in his newfound spot.
Because he knows if he tried the same thing with his son he’d probably be pushed away.
Negans hand goes to Carls face, and he forces his head up and makes him look at him. His hand goes to his chin, his thumb running slowly over it.
“No.” Negan says with a little more firmness. “You don’t get to make me care about you and then pull this, you stubborn little shit.”
Ricks head is swimming. This wasn’t making any sense. None of it was.
But somehow, the man is able to get some of the medicine in Carl, thankfully. Rick focuses on that fact even for just a moment because it’s the only thing that’s keeping him grounded.
And then slowly, Carl’s hand reaches out for Negans and finds it, and he almost can see the tension leave Carl immediately as he pulls the man’s hand to him as he rests them together near his forehead.
“I really wish you were here Neeg.” Carl whispers out. And Rick suddenly feels his entire world drop out from underneath him. He doesn’t know what side is up.
Carl, who had shyed away from Rick, was seeking out Negan . And it’s so entirely ludicrous.
Rick had been so busy protecting Carl that he hadn’t realized he had been neglecting him.
His thoughts drift to the prison, for some reason. When Carl would wander behind him, obediently, quietly, and mumble every so often, “Dad?” in a small, meek voice. And Rick, too lost in his own thoughts, in his plans to make the world better for Carl, hadn’t even responded to him more than half the time. And then to their run in with the claimers, when Carl had almost been raped and yes he had protected him, lashed out with everything he had, but it was after that moment that he truly felt like he lost Carl. He remembers the next day, seeing Carl and Michonne in the woods outside of terminus chatting and embracing and he had felt a sting of jealousy at the connection she had with his son. Not that he had tried to change that. He, of course, was too busy protecting Carl.
Protecting him. But maybe not caring for him.
“I’m right here, kid. I’m right here. You're gonna be fine.” Negan whispers to him, a hand still going through his hair and Carl looks more at peace than he’s seen him this entire time. He hears a shuffling from the corner finally, and his attention goes to the doctor for the first time. He’s pulling out an IV, among other things.
Rick forces himself to focus on the fact that there is a doctor here and he’s grateful for that. It’s the only thing keeping him from not burning this entire place down.
“Let that kick in, check his temperature in a half hour, we’ll give him an IV.” The doctor looks to Rick, who nods gratefully at him. “More than likely we just have to let it run its course, but if his temperature isn’t down to at least 103 soon, we’ll have to consider something else.”
The doctor moves to Carl, and his hands hover over the boys neck.
“Let me check his tonsils...” he mumbles out, and the second the man’s hands are on Carls neck he startles awake, all his instincts that have been honed over the years to avoid exactly this kicking in.
“Whoa whoa. Hey, kid. He’s not gonna hurt you, okay?” Negan reassures him softly. But Carls one eye is unfocused, and he seems confused. So Rick moves next to him so he’s on the floor, hovering over him and uncomfortably close to Negan.
“Carl, it’s okay. It’s only the doctor and he’s just trying to help, alright?” Carl seems to notice him at that finally, and relaxes slightly but he can still tell Carl just seems unsure of what the hell is going on, or who is even next to him.
It seems impossible but Carl is hotter than he had felt before, the fever radiating off of him, and Rick prays silently for the medicine to kick in. Carl didn’t need fever-induced brain damage on top of whatever brain damage had been inflicted from getting shot in the face. Which, apparently was a lot, because Carl must have some brain damage if he’s consorting with Negan.
Catl relaxes finally, and Rick hopes that it’s a sign that the medicine is working. His hands wind around Negans waist so he’s even more burrowed in the man’s lap, and he’s clutching Negan like his life depends on it. Rick tenses, and moves towards them again but once more feels a hand on him. It’s Michonne, and she tugs at his arm in a way he knows means “come the fuck with me” and she moves them out to the hallway.
She puts a hand on each of his arms to steady him, sensing the absolute level of distress he’s in.
“Rick- listen. I don't know exactly what’s going on here-“ she starts in a whisper.
“Well, that makes two of us.” He interrupts.
She nods, but continues on. “But I do know how sick Carl is- and he needs that doctor. Do not get in the way of this, Rick. Not right now.”
“Michonne- he- he-” Rick all but cries out, his hand flailing in the air trying to find words.
“I know. I know. But we’ve all wondered why Carl isn't dead after everything he pulled against them. The rest of us can’t even look at Negan the wrong way, but Carl…Just. Just let this play out. Carls sick. He could die , Rick. His temperature rose while you were down there with Negan when he first got here- I checked. It was 106.3. You need to let this doctor take care of him. And for just right now let Negan take care of him.”
Ricks stomach drops further at that. At the thought that Carl could die. And also at the thought of Negan in there, with his son-
Rick doesn’t know what to do. Half of him wants to go in there and strangle Negan to death. But the other half knows that Carl is, at least for now, medicated with what he needs to kick this fever hopefully. There’s a doctor here. He has an IV. He has medicine."
Rick understands, but he doesn't want to. He was going to have to shove his hatred for Negan down, even if it was just momentarily.
So he sits, in the hallway, against the wall with his head in his hands and wonders again just how this happened and where he went wrong. He thought Carl was on a good track, he thought him and Enid-
Enid. It hits him like a truck. There was no relationship with Enid. Those hickeys. They were from- him. Ricks dreams of his sons normalcy were all a pipe dream. Because this, this was definitely not normal.
At that moment Negan comes out of Carls room, and before Rick even knows what he’s doing he’s launched himself off the floor and decks the other man square in the jaw. Negans surprised, and recoils but when he turns back around with a hand on his face he doesn’t look angry.
“Alright, Rick. You know what- I’m gonna give you that one.” Negan says rather calmly, rubbing his jaw. “Because I know this is a lot to uh, take in .”
Rick huffs, and shakes his head at him.
“What exactly is going on between you and Carl, Negan?” He asks firmly, his hands going to his hips.
“To be honest- I’m not quite sure exactly what it is.” Negan says shortly.
“That’s helpful. Let me clarify- are you having sex with my teenaged son?”
Negan pauses, and seems to mull things over.
“So, before I say anything just remember you only get one free hit, and you already used it, so...”
Negan looks at him, hesitantly and almost expectantly, and Rick just stares back at him wide eyed and bracing himself.
“Yeah Rick, I am.”
Rick positively explodes. “He’s a child! Are you insane?”
“I am insane. But no , he’s not a child. And the fact that you repeatedly treat him like one is why we’re in this predicament.”
“We’re in this predicament because you are sleeping with my son.”
Negan shrugs nonchalantly.
“Is this- is this some game to you!? Using Carl to get to me? Forcing him to do shit with you? Why are you so hellbent on using my son as some kind of pawn ?” Ricks seething now, he’s spitting words out and almost up in the other man’s face, forgetting momentarily what kind of threat Negan poses. But he doesn’t care. This is Carl. This is his only blood child. He’s not about to sit there and let him be used like this.
“What’s going on between Carl and I- whatever it is- it has nothing to do with you, Rick. Nothing .” He says it with such conviction that Rick actually believes him somehow. “And you know better than I do that no one forces that kid to do anything he doesn’t want to.”
Negan stops for a second, and looks down almost as if he’s contemplating what he’s about to say next.
“Listen. This isn’t exactly how he wanted you to find out. Didn’t want you to find out at all, obviously. And I respected that. As much as I would have loved to rub that shit in your condescending, smug face. But when I walked in and saw him like that- he uh. He looked bad. And I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to sit there and do nothing. So, I’m sure Carl would have gladly gone to the grave with this secret. But I’d rather that visit to the grave be later than sooner. I brought him medicine. Our doctor. I rushed here. His fever is down already. So, Contrary to your unpopular, jaded opinion I do care about him. A lot, actually.”
“Why?” Rick asks quietly. Why the hell would Negan choose to fixate on Carl, or all people, especially if it had nothing to do with him? He just couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
“Why not? Kids a badass. Caught my attention the second I saw him. He's young, I get it. But he's been through more than the majority of my men combined. You’d be wise to let him show his full potential. Again- Stop treating him like a child."
But he is my child, Rick wants to say. He doesn’t know which way to turn, but he once again feels cornered by the man. As much as he wants to deny it, he can’t. It was laughable. The thought of Carl being forced to do anything especially if he hated Negan as much as he claimed to- which, obviously, that had all been a ruse.
“Go.” Rick says quietly, and then elaborates. “Go back in and sit with him. Obviously he wants you there more. I can’t- I can’t be in there right now.”
Negan nods, and though Rick waits for a smart ass comment, but none comes.
“He does still need you.” He finally hears Negans say from behind him just as Rick was about to head down the stairs.
“He talks about you. Sometimes endlessly. Fuckin’ annoying is what it is, but I let him ramble because he needs it. He misses you.”
“ What ? What do you mean?”
Negan shrugs. “Just- talk to him, okay Rick? He just needs…I don’t know. He’s a good kid. He’s tough as shit . But, he didn’t ask for this life.”
And Negan turns around and heads back into Carls room, leaving Rick standing there lost for the 87th time that day.
***
A few hours have passed. Rick feels it’s been more than long enough that he’s left the two of them alone- and every second that has gone by has been torture. He slowly, very quietly, makes his way up the stairs.
He hears them talking. At first it’s faintly, but by the time he makes it to the landing he can clearly make out Negans obnoxious, goading voice.
“…fell asleep in my arms like a baby. It was a-fuckin’-dorable. And then I’m pretty sure Rick left to throw up. It was friggin’ fantastic!”
Rick rolls his eyes to the back of his head so hard that he’s momentarily concerned that they're going to stay that way.
“Oh my god .” He hears Carl lament and he’s close enough now that he can still see him curled up still on the floor with Negan next to him. His first reaction is relief. Carl sounds relatively coherent, and the fact that he’s awake is promising. But then his next reaction is an overwhelming sense of dread at the conversation he’s about to have with his son.
This is absolutely not the talk he was anticipating having with Carl.
"I'm so glad you're okay, baby.” He hears Negan say softly with more sincerity than he thought the man was ever capable of. But the name sets him off, and he finally makes his way over to the doorframe. “-wasn't expecting to walk in here and see you like that."
Carls head pops up and he turns to him, slowly, because he knows what he’s about to hear. He looks at Rick with a confusing mix of guilt and trepidation. He’d seen that look before- but it had been when Carl had broken Loris favorite Christmas ornament when he was 6 or had accidentally let Codger out which resulted in a 3 hour dog hunt down the street. All those instances paled in comparison to what he was facing now.
“I think we have to talk, Carl.” He looked at Negan. “You. Go.” He hissed at the man.
“Good luck kid.” Negan said, and winked at Carl as he headed out the door and it took absolutely every ounce of strength that Rick had in him to not murder him on the spot.
Once they passed Rick waited to hear the sound of Negan heading down the stairs- it was only fair after all, Rick had more than given Carl and him enough time together. Carl was staring, a little wide eyed, fixated at something behind Rick. So he wasn’t surprised when he turned around to see Negan standing there in the doorway.
“Can I help you?” He grits out, now feeling rather annoyed.
“Oh, just sayin’ Rick. Go easy on Carl. It’s not his fault he wanted his daddy to take care of him when he was sick.”
Rick just stood there, motionless, his jaw on the actual floor- he had known better than to expect anything less than a statement like that from Negan. The sound of Carl being violently sick next to him caught his attention.
As he’s being serenaded by the sound of his sons guilty puking he vaguely wonders, in that moment, what Lori would say to him if she suddenly reappeared. Our son is having sex with a man who’s older than you Rick. How did this happen? How?!
Rick didn’t know how.
"You owe me my fucking mattress back for this, asshole!” Carl yells to Negan as he wipes the remaining puke off his face with his sleeve.
Lovely , Rick thinks. This whole situation is just lovely.
***
It's a hectic and awkward 2 minutes of Carl attempting to help Rick clean up his vomit next to him on the floor, of Rick glaring at him, and Carl not meeting his eye like his life depended on it. Rick suddenly wonders if Carl is grateful that he only has one eye, because it’s less eyes to worry about that could accidentally look at his father..
“Carl.” He says firmly once he’s satisfied there’s no vomit in the floorboards, and his head pops up finally, looking right at him. Carl does look absolutely positively miserable, and for just half a second Rick feels a pang of guilt.
Carl bites his lip a little and just looks at him expectantly. Because he knows what’s coming.
“So. You must hate me.” Carl says simply.
“Carl, no. Look.” Rick doesn’t even know what to say so he settles on a simple- “Carl. What the actual fuck?”
“I know. I know.” Carl says, hugging his knees now and not meeting Ricks gaze again. He starts coughing unexpectedly and Rick moves to him, putting a hand on his back, sitting on the floor next to him. He moves to feel his forehead, and is relieved that his fever seems to have broke.
“You do feel cooler.” He says quietly.
Carl nods. “I feel better. Sort of. Dad- I’m sorry. I really am.” Carl whispers, looking at him again, and he looks all of ten years old again suddenly. And Rick does believe him- that he’s sorry, in some capacity. But he isn’t letting the issue drop.
“For what? For you and Negan?… Or the fact that I found out?”
Carl shrugs.
“To be honest. Both? I’m…I’m not totally sure what’s going on with Negan and I. It’s confusing. And it just…happened. It happened and now I don't know how to stop it… I don’t know if I want to stop it. But obviously, no. I didn’t want you to find out. Ever .”
"And he's not...he's not making you do any of this? You aren't just caught up in something that you're in over your head with?"
Carl shakes his head, and Rick knew, he already knew that this wasn't something that had been forced on him.
“I just.” Rick pauses, unsure of how to say what he’s about to say next, but then it all comes out in a jumble, an angry jumble. He had tried to hold his anger back- he really had. But he can’t hold it any longer. “Why? Why Carl? Why him ? Of all people? Did you...is this- did you do this to spite me?”
Carl scoffs at him, and that simple gesture sets off a coughing fit again. Once he resurfaces from it Carl glares at him as little.
“Contrary to what you seem to think, not all of my decisions revolve around you. I am my own person. I don’t wake up and think, how can I fuck shit up for Rick today?”
“Oh, you sure ? Because it seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
“Okay. You want to know why ?” Carl sits up a little straighter. “Because he treats me like a fucking person. Like I’m more than just Judiths babysitter. And honestly? He’s talked to me more in the last 3 weeks than you have in the past 3 years. He listens to me.”
“He- the last three weeks? This wasn’t- a one time thing?”
Carl huffs out a sad laugh and shakes his head.
“How- how often have you been seeing him?”
Carl pauses, and Rick wonders if he’s contemplating lying or not. But he doesn’t miss more than a beat before his answer comes tumbling out.
“Every other night for a month.”
“You- you- what?” Rick says dumbly, unable to form a coherent sentence suddenly. “So what- was it all about… sex?”
“Not all , no.” Carl says a little too smugly for his liking.
Rick sighs and buries his face in his hands.
“Sorry. That wasn’t the answer you were hoping for, was it?”
Ricks head is swimming again. He absolutely cannot believe what he’s hearing. He doesn’t want to imagine his son, and Negan together in any capacity so he cuts those thoughts off quickly.
“Did you forget what he did to Glenn? And Abraham- and you? He almost made me cut your arm off.”
Carl laughs again. “That was a power play. And no, actually I haven’t. But you want to talk about the blood on his hands, dad? Really? Let’s talk about that satellite compound.”
Rick feels his jaw drop. Because that was different. Those men deserved it. Negan has obviously put these ideas in his sons head, and Carl was young and impressionable, and-
“How are you on his side? He’s grooming you, Carl, he-”
“Stop making this about sides!" Carls angry now, too, and Rick feels the anger rolling off of him suddenly. "I met their families, at the Sanctuary. They had kids. Wives. Little babies, Judiths age. There was a baby there, and you killed her parents and took her. There’s a kid my age and you killed both of his parents.I didn’t plan this- I didn’t do this to spite you. It just happened. You say Negans the bad guy? Guess what? You’re the bad guy in their story, dad- and Negans you to them. Willing to do the tough shit for his people. I hate to break it to you. Maybe that’s why you two hate each other so much. Maybe you’re the same person.”
Carl looked at Rick with an unwavering gaze, one eye and all, and it clicked suddenly to him. Why Carl was doing this. Why he had sought out Negan. It really did have nothing and everything at the same time to do with Rick.
“When did you get so damn smart?” Rick asks him quietly.
Carl didn’t answer for a second, just toyed with a fray on one of the blankets he was nestled in.
“I have been for a while. You just never listen to me.” He said in a very small voice.
Rick nods, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. You’re right, Carl. And I’m sorry. I just. I just don’t understand how this. How this happened .”
“I’m sorry too. It just… You…” Carl fell off, seeming unsure in what he was about to say.
Rick looked to him, urging him in his glance to continue on.
“You look at us the way same, sometimes, you know?” Carl says, and again it’s in such a small voice that Rick barely hears him.
“What?”
“Negan and I. You look at us the same way. You’ve looked at me differently since the prison. Since I killed mom.”
For not the first or last time that day Rick is absolutely, positively dumbfounded.
“I- no I don’t, what are you talking about, Carl?”
Carl doesn’t say anything, he just looks at him almost knowingly and then shrugs lightly,
“You don’t see the way you look at me. Didn’t see it until I saw how you looked at him. And that’s when I realized it. It’s- it’s how you look at me, sometimes.”
“I don’t think of you any differently because of what happened with your mother, you know that.”
“No, I don’t know that, actually. I don’t know anything because we don’t talk about anything, dad. I’m not asking for much. But I just- I don’t know….” He drifts off again, and shakes his head, almost as if he knows it’s pointless.
“Negan… talks to you?”
Carl nods.
“And How do you know he’s not talking to you just to…?”
“To use me?”
Rick nods silently.
“What, is the idea of someone actually showing an interest in what I have to say that unbelievable?” Carl asks, with an edge to his tone.
“Carl, no, I-”
“I’m kidding, dad. The thought crosses my mind every day, okay? But so far we haven’t talked about anything that would even remotely matter.”
“Well." Rick looks down at his hands awkwardly. "What do you talk about?”
“I…nothing, really. Nothing that matters now, at least. We talk about. About the dog we used to have, and my stupid favorite video games I used to play. Dumb shit. But then sometimes it's about shit we’ve been through too. Like mom, and my eye, and- other stuff.” Carl trails off, but Rick knows. He knows what other stuff means. “I don’t know. It helps. He’s never pressed for anything that would give him an advantage over us. My feelings over almost being raped don’t exactly matter in the grand scheme of things. But. I just. I didn’t know, dad.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“Didn’t know things didn’t have to always feel so bad all the time. Since this whole thing started…when we were out there and even at Alexandria- I just. It was one thing after the next. I got shot. I killed mom. We thought we lost Judith. The claimers. Terminus. I got shot again . All I felt was just shittiness all the time. I didn't know any different. I forgot that there was more to life than... pain. I fee something different when I’m with him. I feel good sometimes. And it’s nice. And I’m sorry if that’s a bad thing.”
Rick doesn’t say anything, just looks at him for a moment.
“It’s not. It’s not, Carl. And I’m sorry. I feel like, somewhere in all that mess, somehow, I lost you a while back. It’s easier to try and keep you safe than actually deal with all of this, so that’s what I’ve been doing. I can’t stop you from seeing Negan. But. If he hurts one hair on your head. Or uses you, in any way, I swear to god-“
“You’ll murder him, yeah. I get it.”
Rick nods. “Just. Be careful with him, okay?”
“I am.” Carl says quietly. “I will be .”
Rick mulls over their conversation, silently, lost on where to go from here.
“When you’re feeling better, you wanna go on a run? Just me and you, for a day, or two? We can- we can talk. Or we don’t have to, I just. Whatever you want. I’d like to talk, though.”
“Yeah. I’d like that. And, I’m sorry. I really am.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I love you, okay?”
“Love you too, dad. Thanks.”
“Alright.” Rick pulls him to him, and he isn’t met with resistance this time. Carl falls into him, willingly, just like he always did as a kid. And Rick realizes how this feels familiar and a little strange because it’s been so, so long.
“So, you think you can sweet talk your boyfriend into giving us those mattresses back? I’m old, my backs not taking to the floor well.”
“Dad, Jesus.” Carl laughs, the word boyfriend absolutely not sitting right with him.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Kind of? Well, tell him to at least lay off the hickeys for Christ sakes. He’s fifty , just because you’re a teenager doesn’t mean he is.”
Carl suddenly looks forlornly to the door again, which only means one thing.
“I gladly will Rick! I’ll just suck elsewhere, don’t you worry!" Negan says, triumphantly, at the door frame.