Chapter Text
Negans woken up by a strange, rather alarming sound coming from somewhere in his room. More specifically, coming from... his bed? To be honest, any sound coming from his bed was enough to set off his internal alarm bells because, well- he slept alone.
Or at least he had been, until about a week ago when he’d slipped the fuck up and finally somehow allowed someone in it that wasn’t a wooden baseball bat. That someone of course, was Carl Grimes of all fucking people on this godforsaken planet.
It had happened out of necessity- Carl was stuck here with him for his little killing spree, and Negan didn’t trust the rest of the Sanctuary residents to not shank the kid in his sleep, so he started off on the couch.
But after a rather strange night where they’d somehow ended up fucking, Carl had fallen asleep in his bed next to him after sex. It wasn’t like they had cuddled or any of that shit- Carl had just drifted off in a sex drunk stupor, and never moved for the rest of the night. That had been a few days ago, and Negan just eventually stopped caring to make him move.
He’s pretty sure that first time the sex had happened out of hate- it was as if Carl had so many confusing, strong emotions towards him that he didn’t know what to do with them all, and he needed somewhere to put all that rage.
So it came out as hate sex, but it was slowly turning into something else entirely. Negan could already tell Carl was addicted to it- he knew he sure was. Slowly, the glares that Carl was giving him were starting to soften, and he was beginning to look at him with some other entirely different emotion. And somehow, he found his way into Negans bed night after night, and not by Negans doing. In fact, two nights ago he had ignored the little shit entirely as a test, and he’d still wheedled his way in here.
So here he was. With Carl passed out next to him in his bed yet again after a thoroughly exhausting fucking good time. Maybe Carl didn’t know that you didn’t always fall asleep next to the person you’d had sex with. Negan couldn’t really blame him- he was young, he didn’t know the rules. So, who was he to tell him otherwise? Negan had himself completely convinced that was the only reason Carl was in his bed.
And so far this had all been fine. While it was strange to have someone back in his bed, Negan couldn’t help admitting that it wasn’t half bad. Carl kept the bed warm, if nothing else. And it wasn’t as if he took up a monumental amount of space, so it was a win-win.
Except for now, when he looks over and finds that the strange little noises- whimpers- that had woken him up are actually coming from Carl. He’s clearly having a dream. And a bad one, at that.
It’s extremely… unnerving. He hadn’t really seen Carl so much as flinch around him. Even when Carl's resolve had broken that first day when he had found his way into the Sanctuary he was still a little fiery ball of anger, ready to pounce- even if he was slightly terrified.
This though- this was entirely different. This was Carl at his most vulnerable, small and alone and scared next to him, oblivious to the outside world and stuck inside his own hell. If the whimpers coming out of him meant anything he’s genuinely having a rough go of it inside that little trauma-addled, broken brain of his.
Fuck this- this was way above Negan pay grade. He didn't have the capacity, or frankly, the care, to deal with something like this. Carl had ended up in his bed solely because of sex- or, at least, that’s what he told himself. And sure, at one point Negan had been a legitimate actual husband to a lovely woman in a past life a long, long time ago- but he sure as fuck wasn’t a good one.
No, no. He’s all out of practice when it comes to this shit, and it wasnt something that he wanted to get practice with. But- he also wasn't going to sit there and have Carl keep him up all night.
So he does what any rational person would do. He pokes Carl on the shoulder, a little roughly- hopefully enough to rouse him.
To his absolute dismay it does absolutely nothing, and the small little sounds coming out of the kid continue. He clears his throat.
“Uh- Carl .” He says, softly, and very awkwardly.
“’M sorry! Didn’t want-‘msosorry!” Carl cries out in obvious distress of some kind.
Very suddenly, Carl's hand shoots out towards his direction and he tries to push away whatever imaginary threat is there. Instinctively, Negan grabs it, and Carl gives a yelp and his one eye shoots open.
Real, visceral fear meets him in Carl's eye. He looks absolutely terrified, unlike Negan had definitely never seen. It catches him off guard, and he feels his actual breath catch in his chest. Carl's breathing is erratic, and he seems completely disoriented and lost.
“Hey …“ Negan starts, softly, unsure of what the appropriate thing to say in this situation is. He’s half concerned that Carl is going to try and murder him, because maybe he didn’t know he had just woken up from a dream and that whatever his imagination had cooked up wasn’t real.
Carl looks around, seemingly extremely confused as to where he's landed himself now that he’s fallen out of dream world. He blinks, taking in the sight of Negan in front of him.
All at once, realization of his situation seems to hit. Negan sees an actual shift in him, sees all his walls go up at once, like he’d been trained to do for so long,
“Shit- fuck- sorry.” Carl mumbles out in a rush, sounding almost embarrassed.
“Oh- it’s- fine.” Negan says- again, very awkwardly. Negan didn’t really do awkward, but then again maybe he does in this kind of situation.
Carl huffs out a small little sigh, rubs his eye, and rolls away from him, curling up on his side in a little ball of…something. Negan couldn’t tell if the kid was still shaken up or just angry at himself.
Negans relieved for a moment. Good , now he didn’t have to deal with the little disruptive shit. He settles back down into bed and attempts to get back to sleep. Very quickly, though, guilt creeps over him as he looks at Carl all pitiful over on his side of the bed. His breathing is still coming heavily, little shivers running through his spine as he tries to calm himself down.
And Negan doesn’t know what possesses him to open his mouth. Carl had given him a very easy out- he could (and should) be falling back asleep right now.
“You alright?” Negan says softly, and puts a hand on him, moving closer to him. Immediately at the touch Carl jumps up as if Negan was a threat, and whips around to face him. He hadn’t known Negan was so close, so they end up right up in each other’s faces.
“I’m fine.” Carl growls out, with a clear tone of annoyance, anger and embarrassment all mixed into one, and he rolls away again from him with an audible huff. “Next time just hit me or something. I’ll wake up.” Carl mumbles.
Negan goes silent again, mulling over if he should just leave it be. Of course he should just leave it be.
But- he can’t.
“I get ‘em too.” He says softly, just looking at Carls back, who’s turned away from him again- but he doesn’t move towards him. Again, it's like he can’t stop himself. “It’s impossible to live in a world with dead fucks walking about and not have a few bad dreams ‘bout them.”
“I wish that’s what they were about.” Carl mumbles quietly, bitterly.
The response surprises him, but at the same time doesn’t. He knows more than anyone that the real threat out there wasn’t walkers, and he knows Carls a traumatized litte fuck, even if he didn’t know exactly by what.
“You… wanna talk? About…?” He starts, and at the same time he wants to bash his own head in with Lucille because why is he doing this?
“Oh Jesus,” Carl sighs heavily and turns towards him for just a moment with his signature Grimes glare and a ridiculous eye roll. “No, Negan. Stop. Sorry I woke you up.”
Again, Carl was giving him a clear out, so Negan settles back down with that strange mix of guilt and relief. And he almost- almost falls back asleep, until he hears something else that rouses him out of his daze. A sniffle. It’s extremely small, almost imperceptible, but Negan knows he hears it.
But, whatever. Carl has allergies- obviously. Negans sure of it.
He is sure of it. The little shit can sniffle away all night.
And yet….god dammit, he feels that annoying, now familiar twinge of guilt come over him.
What was this kid doing to him?
Negan makes a split second stupid decision. He moves closer to Carl, so that he’s flush against his back. Carl immediately stiffens, but Negan continues on, against his better judgment.
Why did he care that Carl had a shitty dream? Did he care? What the fuck was he doing? This kid, and all his issues, were total bullshit.
Despite all that, he puts his petty ass feelings aside and instinctively wraps an arm tightly around Carl from behind, and at first he thinks well, this is how I die. Carl continues to stiffen, and he’s pretty sure the kid has stopped breathing. He knows he has.
It shouldn’t be that weird. After all, they had been fucking all week now. But. This was different. He just couldn't help himself though. He felt possessive- protective- over him, and he couldn't just let him sit there, shivering and a mess on the other side of the bed.
“What-what are you doing?” Carl asks him in a strange voice, full of confusion.
“What does it look like, genius?” Negan pulls him a little tighter. “Relax.” He whispers, and he finds himself kissing Carl on the temple, just ever so lightly.
“Are you…gonna strangle me or something?” Carl asks, still very confused and sounding a little concerned for his life.
“What? I’m trying to cuddle with you, you jackass.”
“Oh.”
Negan almost wants to laugh at the ludicrousness of Carls statement but instead he just pulls him a little tighter to him, probably to Carl's dismay.
“Jesus, are you a feral little thing.” Negan says into his ear.
He has a strong inclination to pull away from him and let him deal with his own shit- because that’s clearly what Carl wanted- but something is nagging at him to stay. He lays there for god knows how long, not moving and being stubborn.
To his shock, he very slowly feels Carl relax against him, hears his breathing even out ever so slightly.
At first he had thought maybe Carl was just the kind of person who didn’t like to be touched. And that was fine by him. But as the days went on he was starting to think that wasn’t the case. Maybe Carl just didn’t know how to have any kind of contact with another person without wanting to jump out of his skin.
And then, after quite a long time, something Negan never, ever expected to happen actually happens. He feels Carl bring a hand up, slowly and timidly, and come to rest over the mans arm that’s wrapped around him. Carl huffs out a little sigh of contentment, and burrows his head into the blankets. Negan at first thinks he’s imagining it, but Carl definitely moves just slightly back towards him, so they’re impossibly closer.
He’s not sure if it’s going to be like igniting a bomb, but he kisses him gently on the hair again. To his surprise Carl doesn’t jump away- he just seems to melt into him more.
After a few moments Negan feels him shift, and Carl ends up turning around so he’s looking at him. His one eye looks sad and just truly exhausted . Negan can’t help but reach out for him, a hand going to his scarred cheek. An almost involuntary little whimper escapes from him, and immediately Negan feels himself soften immensely and he knows he is fucked when it comes to this kid.
“C’mere.” he says softly, and pulls Carl even closer to him. “I got you.” He mumbles into his hair. “What’s got you so shaken up?”
Carls silent for a long time, and Negans sure he’s not going to say anything. Eventually he bites his lip and looks up at him uncertainly, seemingly considering whether or not he really wanted to talk to Negan.
“They’re not…” Carl starts. “The dreams- they’re not always about bad shit happening to me. Sometimes it’s me doing the bad stuff. That ever... do you ever have dreams like that?”
Negan nods slowly, running a hand through the boys hair now.
“I do. Believe it or not I do have a conscience in here somewhere. I am affected by the things I do.”
A strange look comes over Carls face. “Then why do you keep doing them?”
Negan shrugs. “To keep my people safe. Same reason as you do- same reason your dad does. No one is exempt from doing shitty things in this world.”
Carl nods, in quiet understanding.
“What was your dream about, Carl?” Negan asks him softly, his thumb going to the kids chin.
Carl looks up at him uncertainly, biting at his lip again. He’s silent for a long moment, and then- “I-it was about my mom.” He mumbles out, so softly that Negan almost doesn’t even hear him. He wasn’t even expecting an answer, so he’s shocked he got one.
He nods, and just continues to look down at him, trying to encourage him to talk. Negan doesn’t know exactly what happened with her- only that Carl had to kill her- and he knows that’s some fucked up shit that must weigh heavily on the traumatized little asshole.
Jesus Christ, how had he ended up here? Again, he was absolutely not qualified to be talking to some messed up kid about his trauma. He himself had enough unresolved issues to deal with. So why does he feel such a strong urge to be there for him?
“I just…some nights I see it over and over, and- Shit. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this-"
“Because I asked.” Negan interrupts firmly, and Carl just nods and that seems to encourage him even more.
“My mom…she died giving birth to my sister. Things just went bad. It was only me and another girl and- I had to help cut Judith out and…my mom knew she was going to die. I hear her saying goodbye to me over and over again. She knew, Negan. It...it was so fucked, you know?" No- Negan doesn't know, but he nods anyways, and Carl continues on. "I know killing her was the only option. It was...it was right. What she would have wanted. I know that. But it still….I just have this dream of her and I can see everything again. Over and over. I was such a shit before she died, too. I was just....I was so mad. At everything. I just don't know if she really thought I hated her. And…. I love my sister- I do. But…sometimes I wish- I wish she wasn’t here and my mom was- Fuck that sounded really fucked u-“
“Hey.” Negan stops him. “It’s not. It’s not at all. And I know I never met her, but I guarantee you she knew you loved her. I know you were a good kid. Still are.” Negan says softly, pulling Carl completely onto his chest. God it had been a long time since he had held someone like this. Since he had wanted to hold someone like this. Carl doesn’t feel tense in his arms anymore- he just melts into him, completely seeming at ease with him now, and Negans hand goes back to his hair. And he wonders how long it’s been since carls wanted- well, needed - someone to hold him like this.
Something shifts in him at that very moment. He realizes he doesn’t want to just be another source of pain for him, doesn’t want him to have to go through anything else, at least not alone. He feels something in him clench painfully every time Carl looks up at him with that one, sad, baby blue eye and he wants to stop it.
“My dad wouldn’t talk to me after it.” Carl continues on. “Wouldn’t look at me. Wouldn't...I mean- he wasn’t all there, but-”
Negan can’t hear anymore, and he interrupts him with a strange noise that’s almost akin to a growl, and puts a hand on Carls chin so he looks at him.
“Fuck him . That’s fucked up, Carl. Nothing you did was wrong. And nothing you’re thinking is wrong either. Fuck, I’d just want my mom too. I get it. It’s fucked up- what you had to do. Don’t even spend a moment thinkin’ that how you feel isn’t anything but right. What you did for your mom? That just shows you really gave a shit about her. I know she knows that.”
Carl bites his lip and nods, quickly burrowing his head into the crook of Negans neck. The man feels something damp against his skin, and he just kisses his temple and doesn’t stop running a hand through his hair, and Carl lays there quietly, very still, a small sniffle leaving him.
“Has anyone ever…have you ever talked to anyone about your mom, and all this- since…?"
Carl shakes his head against Negan. “Just you.” He whispers.
“Fuck.” Negan swears and pulls him closer. “I’m sorry. Shouldn't of been like that. No wonder you dream about it.” He doesn’t know why he’s apologizing or what he’s even apologizing for, only that he knows Carl deserved so much more. He goes silent again- they both do- and Negan continues to run a hand gently through his hair.
“Feels nice.” Carl mumbles out after awhile, moving into his touch and cuddling into his chest more. “Why are you so…different with me?” He asks negan after a moment, not lifting his head off of Negans chest. “Than you are with anyone else?” It’s a question that catches him completely and totally off guard, and one he didn’t quite know the answer to.
“Shit, kid, I don’t know. All my people? I spend half my day trying to make them half as tough as you. Most of them are just shit for brains. Easy to control but not worth a damn if you need someone who can actually cover your ass, who can do what needs to be done. And then there’s little ‘ol you, some rad ass bad ass kid who waltzes on in here like he owns the fucking joint and impresses the absolute shit out of me. But you’re like that for a reason. You've seen some shit- done some shit. Shit no one should have to go through at all, let alone someone your age. It made you who you are, I know, but it's also a weight you shouldn't have to carry. So why am I soft with you? I have no fuckin' clue. You deserve it though."
At that Carl kisses him, slowly and timidly, and it feels full of hurt and a million other things that Negan can’t comprehend right now. And Negan kisses him back, but doesn't try and take it further. He kisses him like he’s a fucking virgin teenager again who hasn’t so much as even copped a feel, like his nerves are stopping him from doing anything else besides making out. He hasn’t taken his time with someone like this since fucking high school, and he has to admit that honestly it’s not half bad. He lets Carl control the kiss, and finds that he’s enjoying this more than he ever has with anyone else. He finds carls softness and timidness that is so mixed up with his fiery self so fucking endearing. Carl moves against him slightly, little breathy noises escaping the back of his throat, but Negan kisses his ear, shushing him, telling him that he's not taking things farther than this.
And he wishes now more than anything that he could go back and start over with him, take his time with him, let Carl enjoy all those firsts a little more without rushing into everything. He supposes Carl is used to that- his entire life was a bit rushed when the world fucking ended- but he didn’t want to be just another shitty rite of passage for him. He wanted him to know how good things could be if he just took his time with him.
His hand travels to Carl's hip, just resting there. Carl pulls back a little, looking at him with a questioning little glance. He’s laying on Negans chest, with that one blue eye still full of something like sadness and defeat and Negan wants to take it all away. No one Carls age should have ever been expected to carry the weight he does. Especially alone.
Negan flips them over suddenly so he’s over him, and he takes Carls arms and puts them above his head, his hands going to his wrists, thumbs running soothing circles over them.
“What do you need, baby boy?” Negan asks him softly.
“I don’t… know.” Carl whispers out.
But Negan did know. He kisses him all over, on his neck and his chin and his ear, gently and apologetically.
“I need you to stop thinking. Just for a little bit. Let go of all that shit. I’m here, okay?” His hand goes to Carls unruly hair, gently moving some of it away from his face. “I’m here now, and I got you.”
He settles next to him, propping himself up on an elbow so he can still look down at him, their fingers intertwined now over Carls head.
“Get some sleep. I’ll be here.”
Carl nods, and kisses him one last time so gently that Negan knows it's happening, before he pulls back and in an uncharacteristic display of sweetness runs his nose over Negans cheek, nuzzling against him, seeking out comfort and solace and familiarity from him.
“Sleep, you sweet, good boy." Negan whispers to him. "Nothings going to happen to you as long as you’re next to me.”
Carl falls asleep quickly and sleeps soundly, with Negan watching over him. He doesn’t dream for the rest of the night. Very slowly over time, the nightmares of his mother disappear entirely.
**
[When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
I have become comfortably numb]