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Rick knew he should have listened his gut and not brought Carl along.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his son; on the contrary, he trusted him more than anyone else. He knew he could depend on him more than any person on this planet besides maybe Michonne and Daryl. But Carl was his boy, his greatest confidant, the one he found himself looking to these days instead of being that for Carl. The boy had grown so much in the last couple of years since it had all started. Sometimes, he had to search Carl’s features for even the smallest trace of the child that he had once been. He had matured not just physically, but mentally too, having to quickly go from a boy to young man. Rick still often felt the cold fist of regret clenching his innards at the fact. Carl’s childhood had been destroyed a long time ago, but that didn’t stop him from being a father first and foremost, for wanting to preserve the boy’s innocence as much as possible. He’d reprimanded the teen just yesterday for swearing, something that he knew was minuscule in the grand scheme of things, but it was tiniest grasp he had at letting the boy hold onto his virtue for a little while longer.
Needless to say, he’d had a bad feeling as soon as Carl insisted on going with him to the Sanctuary.
“Dad, I know what it’s like there!” The teenager had protested once Rick had told him he’d be staying behind to defend Alexandria.
“Carl, Jesus is going to be there. Daryl too, not to mention Maggie and some of the Hilltop and Kingdom forces,” Rick had tried to placate his son and having unsatisfactory results. “I have everything you told us about the Sanctuary and we’ve got more than enough people to handle ourselves. I need you to stay behind here to keep people safe in case they show up. And you need to be here to look out for your sister.”
Carl had given him that ‘are you shitting me’ look that he’d been giving him a lot these days and crossed his arms defiantly. “They won’t show up if I’m there with you, not if we finish this like we keep saying we’re going to. And me being here won’t make a difference anyway. Michonne and Rosita are here, not to mention Tobin, and we should be back before anything happens. I’m ready for this, Dad. I want… I need to be there.”
Rick had sighed wearily and placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know how badly you want to kill him, Carl. Believe me, I get it. When I thought he was going to kill you, I…” He swallowed back the emotion, the memory of the bat being poised at Carl’s head vivid and fresh in his mind. “We’re going to kill him, I swear to you, we will . I just… I don’t want you in the crossfire, where he can get at you again.”
The teenager’s gaze had softened a fraction, but he hadn’t relented. “I know, but he won’t. It’s because of that I need to be there. We’ve got enough people here. I want to be with you when you take him out. I need to see him die. We need to handle this together, so he doesn’t kill any more of us.”
Rick’s breath had hitched, feeling like he’d just been punched in the gut. Suddenly, It was as though Carl were thirteen again, sitting in front of him and telling Rick all of the same mistakes he’d made. They’d gone back in time, and the Governor was attacking the prison, decapitating Hershel, and they were finding Judith’s empty car seat, and…
You were alone in a room with the Governor, and you let him go. I did what I had to do. Now go. So he doesn’t kill any more of us.
Carl had come a long way since the boy he had been then, but it seemed that he still had a knack for putting his father in his place, and so Rick had known that he wouldn’t be able to talk Carl out of this one. The teenager’s mind was made up. He’d inherited Rick’s own stubbornness. They were like bulls if they went head to head, which was why it was fortunate that they rarely argued. Only Rick forcibly putting his foot down would stop Carl from going. But as much as he wanted to prevent a confrontation with his son for today at least, he also knew that for the boy, this was personal. He didn’t know the full extent of Negan’s interest in his kid, but he didn’t like it. It was almost too reminiscent of Shane and how he’d wanted Carl and Lori for himself. Rick didn’t delude himself into thinking that Negan actually cared about Carl, but he’d made it pretty plain that he had taken a liking to him.
Not enough to not to try and kill him, though, Rick reminded himself bitterly. Carl was still coming off the heels of the attempted murder, so he understood that the boy was pretty rattled and probably wanted some vengeance of his own. Then there was what had transpired when Carl had gone off on his own to attempt to assassinate Negan. Rick had come home to find Carl with his eye socket exposed and Negan taking up residence in his house playing the role of daddy by feeding the kids.
It was with that understanding in mind that he’d ended up relenting.
“Okay,” He slowly nodded, feeling like he was sending his son to his own death. “Okay. I don’t like it, not one bit, Carl. But okay.”
Carl had stared at him hard for a moment, as if trying to figure out if his father was going to go back on his word or not. Finally, he’d nodded back, taking Rick’s hand into his own, his eye slightly moist.
“I know what I’m asking of you, dad, and I’m sorry. But thank you for letting me fight with you so we can change our futures, and so we can have one for Judith. We’re gonna live, dad. We’re gonna win.” He smiled. “I know it.”
Rick had smiled back, even if it hadn’t reached his eyes. He pulled his son in close, breathing in the scent of the coconut shampoo Carl had used earlier that morning, and exhaled like he was breathing his last breath. “I know I don’t say it as much anymore… but I love you, Carl. Everything that I’m doing now… it’s for Michonne, it’s for our people, it’s for Judith… but most of all, it’s for you.”
There’d been a sniffle, and then: “I love you too, dad.”
-
The Sanctuary was surrounded by walkers, and Negan and the Saviors were successfully trapped inside with no way out. The plan, for the most part, had gone without a hitch. Rick knew that he should feel victorious, hopeful, even, but the fact that he hadn’t seen his son since the firefight broke out was making him feel nervous, his stomach twisted in a pit of dread. The words from the Savior he’d encountered earlier, telling him that he’d beg again, that his boy was gonna die, haunted him. Carl had kept close to him when it all started, eyeing Negan with disdain, his finger temptingly close to the trigger more than once. Rick at one point wondered which of the two between them would get to fire the shot first, almost making it a competition. And then somehow, he’d lost sight of Carl between the approaching herd and smoke billowing around them. The last time Rick could remember seeing him was when the boy had gone to help out Father Gabriel. Maggie and the others had been close by, so there was the chance that his son had gotten out with one of them and would rejoin him back at Hilltop.
So that’s where he decides to go.
He writes a letter to Michonne, leaving out the details about Carl for now. It would do nothing but make her worry, and she might go out and try looking for him when he needed her in Alexandria. She was in a bad enough position as it was, having to look after the whole community while she was still recovering. But Rick had faith in her. She was capable and strong, and would make sure everyone else, especially Judith, was safe before she even attempted to save herself.
When he arrives at Hilltop, Maggie meets him at the gate, with Jesus in tow. She tells him what his eyes are already asking, her hand coming up to caress his upper arm.
“Rick, Carl’s not back yet. Neither is Gabriel. I sent out a couple people to look for them, but no sign so far. I’m sure that they’re - ”
She cuts herself off when the sound of yelling comes from outside the gate: Gregory’s returned. Along with Gabriel. She and Rick glance at each other, hurrying back over, opening the gate only a fraction to peer through. They can’t let Gabriel in without also letting in Gregory, and the dread in Rick’s stomach only continues to grow when he sees that Carl is not with them.
“Let ‘em in,” Rick says hoarsely.
Once inside, Father Gabriel quickly rushes towards Rick and grasps at his torso with an agonized expression. “Rick, I’m so sorry. Carl’s back at the Sanctuary. I tried to get to him, but Gregory took off before I could. He wouldn’t wait for him.”
Gregory makes some little comment under his breath and Rick is upon him in an instant, seizing the coward by his collar and jostling him roughly. The older man lets out a yelp of surprise, and raises his hands defensively. Before he even realizes it, Rick has retrieved his gun from his holster and is aiming it at Gregory’s temple.
“Ritch, please -!”
“Shut the hell up,” Rick growls, pressing the cold iron hard into the man’s head, enjoying the terrified mewling of the sniveling asshole beneath it. “You son of a bitch. First you sell us out to Negan and then you leave my boy behind and you think you deserve to beg for mercy?!”
The traitor jabbers away, pleading, but Rick ignores him. Everything around him disappears and all he can see is red, all he can feel is the overwhelming urge to put a bullet in Gregory’s brain, feels it like a hunger that he’s tried to appease but can’t. There’s ringing in his ears. He can hear Maggie yelling, trying to get him to calm down, hears Gregory’s piteous wails, but it’s all as though it’s happening from inside a tunnel, and all he can focus on is that it would take just one shot, one single bullet…
“Rick, stop! Rick, don’t, listen -”
“Rick. Rick .”
It’s Jesus’s presence that finally manages to break through his haze of bloodlust and has him pulling the pistol ever so slightly away. “There’s a chance he might still be alive, Rick,” The man says softly. Sensibly. “From what I’ve seen of him, Carl is a resourceful kid. I’m sure he found a way out. He could be on his way back here right now.”
Unwanted moisture prickles at Rick’s eyes. If Negan or any one of his Saviors hadn’t already killed Carl, then the boy had probably been swarmed by the massive herd, painfully ripped apart. That was the reality of the situation. And yet, Rick can’t help but believe in Jesus’s words, clinging to them like a lifeline. He slowly lets the pistol drop back to his side, lowering his gaze. The fingers that were gripping the fabric of Gregory’s three-piece suit come away red and sore and he stares at them as if they can tell him something, anything that he may not know.
Maggie comes back up on Rick’s side. “Jesus is right, Rick. We’ve watched Carl grow up. We know that he can handle himself in a tough spot. We have to believe that he found his way out okay.”
“And anyway,” Jesus continues. “I’m not so sure that Negan would kill Carl if he caught him.”
“Why do you say that?” Maggie asks, frowning. “He was going to cut Carl’s arm off right in front of us all, and he was going to kill him back in Alexandria.”
Jesus smiles, and Rick meets his gaze knowing that there is a chance that he is right. “I don’t know for sure why, but it seems like Carl is something of a weak spot where Negan is concerned. Daryl told me what he saw when Carl tried to kill Negan. Said It seemed like he was rather fond of him. In any case, holding Rick’s son hostage would give him an advantage, and we know Negan likes to play his cards well if he thinks he’s going to win. Having Carl would make Negan think he has a trump card up his sleeve. He’d want to use him to bargain.”
The air slams back into Rick’s lungs, a rejuvenation of hope reigniting in his heart that maybe somehow everything would be okay. Once he had his son back in his arms, alive and safe, it would be, no matter what came next.
-
The drive back to Alexandria is long and tiring, and Carl had honestly forgotten how far the commute back and forth between the two communities was. He’d only gone there and back twice, but at the time he’d been running on adrenaline and hadn’t paid much attention to the duration of the trip. He and Negan had made it back the same afternoon that time. Now, dusk was beginning to settle on the horizon and the day’s hot temperatures were starting to dwindle to something cooler as night air came in. The truck’s windows were rolled down, Negan whistling a fine tune beside him, and the breeze felt good on his sweaty skin. It was almost peaceful. In another life, it would’ve been. It had been. But then the boy remembers who he is with, where he is going, and what is going to happen and he feels gooseflesh run up and down his arms again.
“Kid.”
He wearily turns his head to look at Negan, who smirks at him.
“I can tell you’re as fuckin’ bored as I am, so let’s pass the time, shall we? Why don’t you tell me something good? Maybe some more about your mama?”
Carl is immediately on the defensive. “Why?”
Negan shrugs. “There’s still a hell of a lot more I don’t know about you. I only got to know so much during our little chit chat from before, and we were ass deep in dead assholes to get to talking much earlier, so start moving your lips. Consider it more of your punishment from the shit you pulled back there.”
He shakes his head. “I --” He can’t. Thinking about his mother makes his heart hurt, and with as nervous as he already is, he can’t bring himself to do this right now. But Negan’s looking at him in that way again, that way that says he will make things so much more difficult for him if Carl doesn’t do what he wants, so he reluctantly complies.
“She hated it when I started using a gun,” He starts. “It was after I got shot the first time. Before this.” He touches the damaged side of his face for emphasis. “That was the second time. The first time, I got shot in the stomach. That’s how we met Maggie. Her dad was a veterinarian and he owned a farm, and he saved me. Right after I got better, I wanted to know how to use one. I wanted to help protect the camp. So I took a gun from Daryl’s bike without him knowing even though I knew he’d kick my ass if he found out. I got caught by my parents. My mom… she thought I was too young to have a gun, to be responsible with one, but my dad convinced her that I was old enough. I told her that I knew what I was doing, that it wasn't a toy, that I knew I had to use it only when I was supposed to. She let me start learning. She let me start using it. But I could see it every time she looked at me. She hated it. She wanted me to still be the same little kid I was before all of this happened. But I wasn’t, and she knew it.”
He pauses. “We were staying at this prison. After Maggie’s father got bit, we had to cut off his leg to save him. So I went up to the infirmary to get him some stuff by myself. I killed two walkers and was proud of it. When I got back, my mom laid into me. At the time, it just made me mad that she didn’t think I could handle myself and I snapped at her. Now I just realize how much she was looking out for me. She was a good mom, even if she didn’t think she was.”
He chances a glance at Negan and finds him looking almost pensive. Ducking his head, Carl wrings his fingers in his lap anxiously, but says nothing else. He doesn’t know what all Negan wants to hear. Why was he so interested in his life? He tells himself it’s probably just the man wanting to continue having a hold over him, a way to emotionally manipulate him further. He thinks that’s true, but along with all of that, Negan was genuinely interested in him and who he was as a person. It wasn't something that he was entirely used to, and not something he'd expected from his enemy that he was finding it was becoming harder and harder to outright hate.
“Tell me about that stupid ass hat you’re always wearing,” Negan says abruptly. “I’m guessin’ it was once your daddy’s, but how did you end up getting it?”
The change in subject has Carl feeling uncharastically thankful towards the man, and it’s one of the few happy memories he has of this new world, one that he doesn’t mind sharing so much. So he tells him. They end up talking the rest of the way to Alexandria. There aren’t any more questions about his mom, but some about his dad, about Alexandria, about the time out on the road before they got there. Even one or two about Carl’s life before the apocalypse started. Carl tells him, even if it’s with reservation and as briefly as possible, but Negan seems to take the answers without elaboration. At one point, Negan relays that he was a P.E teacher and gym coach, and how he’d invited kids over every Saturday afternoon to play pool in his garage. It got them on the topic of sports.
“I never really played them,” Carl tells him airily. “I guess I was okay at soccer maybe, but I mostly just liked to ride my bike after school.”
Negan smiles, hand perched under his chin. “Yeah? You were one of those goody-two-shoe little fuckers who did their homework and got good grades, huh? A little teacher’s pet? Maybe fed the fuckin’ fish during recess or took naps during storytime? Just a good little boy who made mommy and daddy proud?”
Something about the mocking way that Negan is speaking to him makes the boy flush red with embarrassment and he turns an irritated eye up at him. He opens his mouth to angrily retort when Negan laughs heartily.
“Christ, kid, that was adorable just now. Don’t worry your fuckin’ hat off, you haven’t ruined my image of you if that’s what you’re worried about. Can’t have you thinkin’ I’m not interested in you anymore. Why are you getting so damn embarrassed?”
“I’m not.” Carl huffs, finding himself lying for the second time that day.
-
Night has fully blanketed the earth when they reach the familiar gates of the Safe Zone, and Carl’s heart jumps into his throat. He mentally slaps himself again. It was too easy to engage with Negan like they weren’t mortal enemies, like this man wasn't planning on destroying everything and everyone he held dear. This weird friendship - or whatever the hell it was - developing between them couldn’t go on. He wants to kill this man, but he also wants his praise, his acceptance. It said a lot about his own self-image, that he needed a psychopath’s approval, especially one that he hated, to make him feel better about himself. But he knows it goes beyond that. Negan was a like-minded individual, they were more alike than Carl wanted to admit, and he hadn't found that kind of comradere in anyone else, certainly not anyone in his group. He just wished that it wasn't with the man who was about to kill his father and destroy his home.
Carl practically jumps out of the truck once it stops, but Negan keeps close to him with a hand on his shoulder before he can even attempt to warn the look outs. The two men stationed, whom he only recognizes as some of the locals, not anyone he’s very familiar with, are struck down in an instant with tranquilizer darts. Negan’s got a microphone in his hand with all fifty or so of his soldiers loaded and ready with their guns poised at his community.
“You may be wondering why the hell your look outs didn’t sound the alarm,” The man begins, blaringly loud, loud enough that Carl’s sure all of Alexandria can hear him. “See, we are polite! I mean, I don’t know when they’re gonna wake up from that kind of shot, but they should wake up. So let’s just cut through the cow shit. You lose, it’s over. So you’re gonna line up in front of your little houses and you’re gonna start workin’ up some apologies. And the one with the lamest one is gonna get killed. You also might have noticed that you’re missin’ a certain little someone, and I brought him with me as fit as a fuckin’ fiddle to return to you, safe and sound, provided you do what the fuck you’re told. So, Rick, why don’t you show yourself so I can give you back your boy? Ya’ll have three minutes to open this gate before we start bombing the shit out of you.”
The arm around his shoulder feels heavy, and Carl wonders if Negan can hear how fast his heart is beating. It’s not even a moment later when they catch sight of movement at the guard post, and the guns are aimed up at Michonne. Carl thinks his heart actually stops beating at the sight of her, and how hers seems to do the same when she sees him.
“Well, hold on just a minute, fellas, don’t shoot the lovely lady,” Negan holds Lucille up in warning. “Hello there! It seems at least someone here is punctual as fuck!”
Michonne ignores Negan. “Carl, are you alright?”
Carl nods, begins to reply, but Negan’s finger wagging in his face stops him.
“Ah, ah, nope! That’s a no-no right there. He doesn’t talk until I return him. You keep tryin’ to talk to him, he won’t have a tongue to respond back with. Now, where the hell is Rick? I asked for him, and you sure as shit are not him. I brought a new toy with me, and I want him to see me use it and give this place a big old smoky makeover.”
As if to reinstate his point, Negan nods at his men, who position the guns higher. Carl watches as Michonne’s face pales, at the way she darts her gaze back and forth below her to the community filled with people whose only protection is a steel wall. He had to do something. He had to distract Negan somehow, prevent the carnage that was going to happen to all of those innocent people if they couldn’t get out, to his sister, his family. He remembers what Michonne and his father had told him once, how to signal them if he were ever in a jam, if he needed to send them a message. During the time he’d lived in Alexandria, Rick had acquired an “American Morse Code” board that they’d hung on the kitchen wall. Just before the war with the Saviors started, his father had sat Carl down and told him he was about to get an expansion on his education, one that would be useful for the wars to come. Michonne had learned too, as did Daryl, and Rosita, and Sasha. He’d memorized every single letter, every number. Normally, they used the method of communication by tapping their feet, or clapping their hands, or even blinking, and practicing on each other. After he lost his eye, Carl had a harder time of doing that without feeling his phantom eye trying to do the same thing, and so he’d learned to do it another way. He just hoped that Negan would mistake what he was about to do as nervous, anxious jitters and not as a secret message to communicate.
Luckily, he’d made the plans awhile ago in case they ever needed to retreat, before he’d even joined his dad on the mission to the Sanctuary. He didn’t know if there had been any changes made to them, but he had to have faith that Michonne and everyone else could lead the rest of Alexandria to safety using them. Also luckily for him, it was dark, so most of what they were doing would be obscured. He meets Michonne’s apprehensive gaze again, and slowly lowers his fingers to his side. She’s frowning, but she watches his movements, so he takes that as a sign and taps his hip three times. S. Then once. E. Then in rapid succession, one, two, three more times. W. Once again for E. Rapid succession again: one beat, then two. R.
Sewer.
He sees her eyes widen slightly, her mouth moving with the letters on her lips, but barely enough that they could just be quivering. Fortunately, Negan is still speaking, and Carl’s barely paying him any attention, intent on getting his message delivered to Michonne. Once Negan quiets again, she gives Carl the briefest of nods, one that might’ve been mistaken as a jerk of the head if he didn’t know her so well.
“I’ll give ya’ll another couple of minutes to get your shit together,” Negan says and Carl has to restrain himself not to sigh audibly in relief. “Like I said, you get all of your people here at the gate, all on your goddamn knees, and give me some heartfelt apologies. The person with the stupidest one is gonna get a taste of Lucille. Then I’ll turn Carl back over to you. By the time we get through, Rick should be back and you give him up so I can kill him in front of all of you. After that, we go back to how things were. You give me every single gun you have, every single bit of ammunition. And finally, you name me as your new leader, and we move forward with this newest understanding. If you don’t, or if Rick’s not back in another five minutes, I blow this whole fuckin’ place up with all of ya’ll in it, and none of us want that. So fuckin’ speak if you understand.”
Michonne grimaces, but Carl catches the hint of sarcasm in her voice when she responds. “Yes, Negan. We understand.”
“Well, good!” Negan gestures erratically with his hands, turning back around to smile toothily at the boy. “Now how’s that for a deal, Carl? You, in exchange for your dad and some loser? Not too bad, right?”
Carl’s lip curls in disgust, but he doesn’t say anything. Michonne’s left the guard post, so Carl assumes that she’s taking heed of the time limit and making use of what she could. He wishes he could be behind those walls, helping direct people to safety, but he had a part to play here, and he was going to utilize it to the best of his ability.
So he swallows his hate, like his dad would want, and addresses Negan again. “Do you really think we’re just going to follow you after you do this?”
Negan raises his brows and chuckles. “Wow. You just don’t quit, do ya? Carl, this is it. Once your dear old dad is dead, anything you people think you had going for you is over. You’re all gonna fall in fuckin’ line, and that includes you. Otherwise?” He leans down to whisper in the boy’s ear, his eyes threatening even with the smile still on his lips. “I’m gonna have to break you down instead and I don’t want to have to do that. Not after all the trouble I’ve been going to in order to get you to submit. I have great plans for you, kid.”
“What kind of plans?” Carl asks, partially to keep Negan distracted, partially because he’s curious.
Negan’s smile widens. “I’m gonna fix you up and make you into something even more badass than you are now. Your daddy’s done a pretty good job of raising you, but I’m going to do even better. Especially once he’s gone. Hell, you’re still young. You still need guidance, so I’m gonna be that. I’m gonna make you into one hell of a soldier. Few years, you’re gonna be one of my top guys.”
The boy feels stunned, but mostly outraged. The power that Negan is giving him, that is at the base of his fingertips, is overwhelmingly tempting. He’d felt it back in the Sanctuary, more than once, the thought of having so much control. It’s enticing, something that he knows Negan is well aware of. He thinks of how exciting it might be, to see how long he can hold out on not submitting to the man entirely once he’s had his first taste of it.
But he doesn’t need it. Not like this. Not when it involved his family, not when it involved him losing himself. His anger wins out this time over his pride. He doesn’t care what connection he is beginning to form with the man. His connection with his family would win out every single time.
“Like I would just comply with you after you’ve killed my dad, after you’ve killed someone here,” He growls. “Like I would just leave my family, my home, my little sister, behind just to serve you?”
“Who says I’m giving you a choice here?” Negan’s grabs his chin to make him look at him. “I don’t give this fuckin’ opportunity to everyone, Carl, certainly not to my goddamn enemies. I was playing around with the idea, but now I think I might just do it after this anyway. It’ll be a raincheck, not today, not tomorrow, like your daddy likes to say. But one day soon, I’m coming back for you and you’re coming back with me or there will be absolute hell to pay. I take what I want, and right now, that’s fuckin’ you , kid.”
Carl’s nostrils flare, but Negan’s already turned back away from him. “What the hell is takin’ your people so goddamn long? It’s been over 5 minutes. Hey!” He yells into the microphone. “You people growing a fuckin’ garden in there? Get your asses to the gate right now!”
A loud crash has them all turning, and Carl can’t help the smile that spreads over his face when Negan’s speaker sounds and Laura’s voice comes through. “Negan. They have a convoy out, but we’re on ‘em. They’re escaping out the back. It looks like they had an advanced warning.”
“What the fuck?!” Negan shouts. “How the fuck did they know to go?!” He looks around wildly as if expecting an explanation and then his gaze lands back at Carl, eyes narrowing into angry slits. “Oh, you little asshole.” He grabs Carl by the scruff of his neck, his grip bruising. “What the fuck is this, Carl?! Did you warn them somehow? Ohhh, you fucked up now, boy, you really fucked this shit up. You want to play me? You want to not do as you’re fuckin’ told? What happens next is on you, kid, and believe me when I tell you that you are going to be sorry after I’m done with you. Light this place up, boys!” He roars to his men. “Bombs-a-fuckin’-way!”
The orange flames lick at the sky almost instantly, igniting Alexandria in its embers. Even if he’s positive that most of the people made it out okay, seeing his home aflame is still painful. Carl winces against the vice-like hold Negan has on the back of his neck and at the pressure from the heat. Negan pulls on him a little, and the boy looks back at him, leering at him defiantly. “Don't say I didn't warn you, kid, because I fuckin' warned you. We're gonna let off a few more rounds, really light this fuckin’ place up.” He marches Carl over to the truck they arrived in, yanking the door open and shoving the teenager inside. Gary joins them in the driver’s seat. “We’re breaking our way in. Run over any stupid mother fuckers that get in the way.”
They ram into the gates a few times before they collapse almost effortlessly, falling down like they were just a set of dominoes. Carl’s pulled back out of the vehicle again and into the suffocating air. He coughs around the smoke, his eye watery. Alexandria’s in a wreck, many of the houses actively burning. He tries to see if can spot anyone around through the haze, but sees no one. It makes him feel slightly more victorious. It meant that mostly everyone was gone, had managed to seek refuge below. His plan had worked.
“Gary,” Negan calls to his man, jerking his head at Carl. “Keep a gun on this little shit in case he tries to run off or do something. Shoot him if he looks like he's starting to get ideas. Nothing fatal, just enough to hurt. He is not to be killed under any circumstance.” He turns back to his people that have followed him in. “Blow up every other house. As much as I’m lovin’ this bonfire, we need something to salvage after it’s all over. I’m going over to Rick’s to make a little spaghetti. When he shows up, send him my way. Tell him his little prick of a son is with me. That’ll get him to haul ass over here.”
“Move.” Gary pushes Carl forward with the gun at his back, and the teen does as he’s told. He's already done everything he'd meant to, so resisting now would be pointless.
They don’t even make it a few houses down before Negan's radio clicks on again.
His father's back.
-
Carl sees Rick before his dad sees him, and the man comes to a halting stop at the threshold of their house once he lays eyes on him. The look on his dad's face makes the boy want to run forward into his arms, makes him want his dad to hold him and kiss his hair like he used to, to hold him close and tell him it was all right. “Carl... you're -”
It takes the boy a moment to realize that Negan is not beside him anymore. He glances around, confused, and locates the man's figure approaching Rick from behind. Carl barely has time to shout out a warning before Negan's barreling hard into his father. Lucille strikes Rick in the midsection, making him double over in pain. He’s tackled to the ground with Negan on top of him, who is laying blow after blow to his face.
Carl glances at Gary, finding that the man's attention is on the fight and not him, and he instinctively moves, taking his chance. He swiftly grabs the barrel of Gary’s gun and clocks the man over the head with it, sending him to the ground in a heap. The sound distracts Negan long enough for his dad to get the upper hand, effectively kicking Negan off of him, allowing him to land a few blows of his own.
Sputtering, Rick clambors back to his feet, and Negan does the same, wiping blood from his more than likely broken nose as he reaches for Lucille again.
“This shit isn’t funny anymore. I let you have your damn fun. Now I realize you’ve got to go. Time to pay up, Rick. We’re running out now in abundance of apologizes and punishments. Why don’t you go hug Carl goodbye and then come face your fate like a man? After I kill you, I’m taking your son with me and I am going to make him forget he was ever your fucking kid.”
Negan raises the bat, taking a step towards Rick, and Carl doesn’t hesitate. He moves in front of his father protectively, acting as a barrier between him and Negan.
“Kill me,” The boy says quickly, desperately.
He hears his father’s gasp of protest behind him, hears him call his name frantically, but he tunes him out. He stares Negan steadfastly in the face, letting him know that he’s not fucking around anymore, either. An emotion he can’t name comes across Negan’s features, a look in his eyes that Carl’s never seen before. It’s sorrowful and pained, so unlike the eyes that had been looking at him just moments ago. It was like he was seeing Carl for the first time.
“What did you just say?” He whispers.
“If you have to kill someone, if there has to be punishments, then kill me,” The boy pleads. “I’m serious, Negan. Let my dad and the others live. Kill me and then let this go.”
He moves forward a little towards the man, raises his head resolutely, even as he feels his traitorous body tremble.
Negan’s face screws up as though it’s torn between smiling and frowning, unsure of how to react. “You wanna die?”
Carl doesn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice, the way he’s staring at Carl as if he’s the only other person there. All the chips have fallen away. Every single barrier that Carl had up until this point and tried to keep up around Negan, and any pretense that Negan tried to keep up around him, shatters.
“No, I don’t,” Carl tells him. “But I will. It’s going to happen one way or another, right? So if me dying can stop this, if it could make things different, for us, for you, for everyone here, it would be worth it.”
His father’s voice comes again from behind him. “Carl, please -”
“I mean, was this the plan?” Carl directs the words at Negan, sadly appraising him. “Was it supposed to be this way? Is this who you wanted to be?”
Watching the way Negan’s shoulders, usually upheld so pretentiously, begin to sag, the way his entire demeanor changes, Carl knows that his words have hit a chord. He swallows thickly, throat raw from the emotion and also from the still smoldering Alexandria. “Please. Just do it.” His feet send him forward again, so that he’s directly in front of Negan now, staring up at him with all of the courage that he can muster. “You wanted me to help you end this, right? This is how. I’ll die if it’s what it takes to end it, so you don’t kill anyone else.”
He can finally see them now, the tears in Negan’s eyes, sees the way one makes its way down the man’s cheek. “Carl, don’t you fucking ask me to do this,” He says, quietly enough that he’s sure Rick hasn’t heard it. “You know I can’t. Step outta the fuckin' way.”
“I don’t care if you can’t. It’s what I want.”
“CARL! GET BACK!”
Carl feels his own eye welling up with tears, doesn’t turn to face his dad still even with the torturous plea behind him. “No. This is how it’s gotta be.”
They’re at a standstill. Carl reaches for Lucille, guides her up so she is directly above his head, inches away from his cranium. Negan covers his hand with his own and lowers her slightly, and Carl closes his eye, readying himself, preparing for the imminent blow of death.
“NEGAN!”
“Sir!”
“Get on the ground, kid!”
He snaps his eye back open and turns sideways. Gary and some of Negan’s other men have crowded around. He doesn’t even have to look behind him to know that they have his dad at gunpoint, and the others are positioned with their rifles aiming threateningly at Carl. It becomes apparent to the teen what they think the situation is. Negan has backed away from him a bit, and Carl’s wrist is still clenched around Lucille’s handle. Gary, having regained consciousness, is absolutely leering at the boy, looking like he’d love any excuse just to pull the trigger.
“Wait! Hold your fire!” Negan yells. “Do not fucking shoot!”
Gary’s eyes do not leave Carl’s. “Negan already said it. You try and do something, I shoot. I’m giving you one last chance here. Move the fuck away from the boss, kid, or I swear to God we’ll shoot you dead.”
Carl hears it before he sees it.
He raises his hands, taking a step back from Negan, his eye still trained on Gary, at the weapons being aimed at him. At the same time, he feels the presence of someone behind him, and turns, thinking it’s his father, coming to help him, to save him. Instead, there’s the reflective glint of silver in the moonlight and a searing pain in his abdomen as a man he doesn't recognize towers over him. He hears several screams, one of which he identifies as his own as the knife protrudes into his flesh. He feels the gush of his own warm blood, his hands rushing to the wound as he collapses onto the cool grass beneath him. His eye swims dizzily, moving rapidly around his peripheral vision. He catches Negan’s horrified gaze at the same time his father’s terrified face appears above him.
“Carl! Carl?!”
There is so much blood on his shirt from where Rick is pressing his hands along with Carl’s to the wound, trying to staunch the flow. Carl whimpers in pain, feeling like the same twelve-year-old boy with a bullet in his stomach and the memory of a beautiful deer fading out around him. He fights against the pain and looks up at his father, barely managing to get the words out.
“Dad, I’m…”
“Shh, Carl, I’m right here. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m right here.” His father’s voice breaks, reminding the boy of a doll coming apart at the seams. “Carl? Carl, stay with me, all right? You gotta stay awake. I’m going to get help. You’re going to be okay.”
“Dad,” Carl tries again. He reaches up to caress his father’s face. “If… if I don’t make it… don’t blame yourself. Don’t… don’t kill him if you can. I don’t want anyone else to die. If I do, then… find a way to end this peacefully.”
The last thing the boy sees before he slips away into unconsciousness is Negan’s stricken expression and his father’s tearful face.