Work Text:
The forest doesn't seem to have an end. It's just trees as far as the eye can see. The sky is boringly gray. The road endlessly long. The old and roughed up RV creaks as they drive back to Alexandria. Everyone inside the RV has turned to a scary form of grieving. The silent kind, where it's hard to know what a person is feeling or thinking about. That doesn't matter to him though, he prefers the quietness to the previous eruptions of sound. The silence comforts him, gives him room to think. He stares out the dirty window. He wants to lean his forehead on the cool glass and close his eyes, but he knows that whatever he sees when his eyes are closed will be far worse than anything he sees by just idly watching the trees pass by. The peaceful view doesn't stop the ringing in his ears from turning violent however. Unfortunately he also knows that the excruciating ringing is far better than the cracking sound of a baseball bat bashing in someone's head.
His thoughts kept going back to the murders that had just occurred. The sight of Glenn and Abraham's mutilated bodies was something he'd never seen before. An image so incredibly horrifying that had already latched itself deep inside his mind and yet he couldn't really find it in himself to mourn just yet. Of course he was upset with their deaths. Glenn had been like a cool older brother to him. He had known him since Shane, his mom and himself came upon a small group of survivors all those years ago. And to this day, he doesn't think he's ever been more thankful to anyone than to Glenn for helping his dad get back to them months later. Glenn didn't deserve to die like that, leaving Maggie behind and never being able to meet his child. As for Abraham, he and Abraham didn't interact that much, but he knows that Abe was very important to his dad. Always supporting him and being an unmissable force to be reckoned with. Seeing such a strong man get turned into a pile of bits and pieces was indescribable. But his anger for Negan persevered all these feelings. He wasn't just angry for what Negan had done, he was also angry because his dad didn't seem to have the same anger as him. His dad had been angry too, before Negan had almost forced him to cut off Carl's hand. Now his dad was probably already busy thinking about how he could fulfill Negan's demands. If it were up to him, he'd immediately start figuring out a plan to kill Negan. They couldn't forget about last night. They just couldn't. Negan had to be dealt with.
The sound of a small group of walkers brings him back to the present. He realizes where he is and notices that he had been tracing and scratching the line Negan had drawn on his arm to mark the place where his arm should've been cut off. He stops doing it and stands up from his chair. Meanwhile his dad has pulled over the RV. There aren't that many walkers but just enough to block the road. He gets up from his chair, walks up to his dad and takes the ax. He opens the RV door, he knows what has to be done now. With Glenn and Abraham dead, Daryl gone, his dad having a mental breakdown and the rest of the group being in shock, he figures he's probably the best person to handle the walkers. He closes his eyes for a second before swinging his ax at the nearest walker. The ax enters it's brains, killing it one last time. Blood and brains splatter onto his blue plaid shirt, he pulls the ax out of the walker and prepares to swing it at the next walker.
It's cold as he lies on the couch hours later, which is weird because he's pretty sure it wasn't that cold before. But maybe he just thinks that because nothing seems to be the way it was before. He's been staring at the ceiling for two hours now, constantly hoping he'll fall asleep in the next few minutes, although he knows it's completely pointless. He turns to his side facing the interior of the living room. The house feels weird without it's usual residents. When the group stopped by the Hilltop to get Maggie to a doctor, Michonne and Aaron decided to stay behind to help and speak to the people of the Hilltop. He knew his dad didn't like not knowing for sure that Michonne was safe, but there really was no better person to keep Maggie safe than Michonne right now. Michonne, Aaron and Maggie would return as soon as Maggie could travel again. At Alexandria they had placed the incomplete bodies of their friends in a special room. They had promised Maggie to bury them as soon as she was back. After all this it had become dark outside again and because everyone was too tired and too emotional to do anything else but sleep they had all ended up in one house. His dad had offered to share the bed, but Carl had refused. He pretty much already knew he would never be able to fall asleep and didn't want his dad and Judith to be bothered by him. So he finds himself on the living room couch. He takes a deep breath and turns to his other side, facing the window. He pulls his left arm up to his face and pushes his sleeve up, revealing the still visible line Negan drew in the light of the moon. He traces it. It once again makes him a bit more peaceful. Or rather, makes him think straight and organizes his thoughts. He doesn't ever want to lose sight of what has to be done, but how can he make sure the line stays on his skin forever? It's already starting to fade so drawing it everyday would be useless and a waste of marker. Maybe before the apocalypse he could have gotten it tattooed, but then again, before the apocalypse people wouldn't bash other people's heads in with a barbed wired baseball bat in front of their loved ones. There was just no way he could find all the supplies to tattoo himself, never mind the fact that it'd look like shit. He sighed, realizing it was a lost cause. Hopeless he turned again onto his back and closed his eyes. He wanted to actually try to catch some sleep this time.
He awoke two hours later to his surprise. For a moment he felt peaceful, but it only lasted a split second. The horrible reality that two of their most important group members were dead and that a big part of their group was missing from Alexandria disrupted the shortly found peace in his mind. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, which was in a desperate need of a haircut. He knew he'd never get back to sleep. It was pointless and so, he got up from the couch. He automatically walked to the kitchen like he would have done any other day. It's in the kitchen that his eye gets caught on a kitchen drawer and he knows the solution to his problem has been found. He opens up the kitchen drawer and takes a small knife, a towel and some bandages. He exits the kitchen, walks out the door and sits on one of the chairs on the porch. He grips the knife in his hand, pulls up his sleeve and puts the tip of the knife at the start of the drawn line. At that moment he knows. It's the only way he'll always remember what almost happened and what needs to happen. By doing this he vows that one day, he'll kill Negan with his left hand, even if it's the last thing he would ever do on this earth. He pushes the knife down and finds temporary peace.
