Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I swear to God if they say one more thing I’m knocking their fucking teeth out. Or whatever teeth they have left.” 

Carl’s head popped up from the Calculus book that he had been only half paying attention to. His best friend, Enid, was heading back to the bar from what appeared to be the worst table of the night. Scratch that, worst table of the week. It was only 7pm, and it had already been a long night. 

“What?” He asked dumbly, because he truly had heard barely half of what she had said. 

“Nothing, Carl. Go back to being studious. Or trying to be. Also, I need two more PBR’s.” 

“For the assholes in the corner? Shouldn’t they be cut off by now?”

Enid scoffed. “Yeah, okay. You try that then. They’ve been making passes at me all night. Which, you know, isn’t different than any other night they are here.”

“It’s ‘cause you have a nice rack in that bra.” Carl quipped at her and then ducked, expecting retaliation. Enid swiped at him and succeeded in only hitting him on the shoulder. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You know that. I mean, I’m not kidding about the bra, they do look ni-” 

“Carl!” She yelled at him. “Keep it up shit bag.” But she said it with a grin. 

“Seriously, E, you want me to say something to them?” Carl realized how obnoxious they were being, and he couldn’t stand knowing that anyone was acting out of line to her- she was essentially his sister, and he looked after her as such. 

The table held Dan and Joe, and while they weren’t necessarily the town drunks they weren’t known for being much better than that. They were vile excuses and wastes of space, but on the rare occasions that they came in they tipped Enid sometimes well because she sometimes was nice to them. Enid had a way about her, she was feisty and could put up with a lot.

Carl remembered Dan and Joe around town in the past, but hadn’t seen them in some time. The reason was none other than his father, who had sent Joe to prison for some unknown drug offense. Overall though, the two were relatively harmless aside from their comments. 

“Nooo.” She said exasperatedly. “All part of the job. They better fucking tip well today.” 

“Hey you!” Dan suddenly called over to her. He was dirtier than Joe, appeared like he hadn’t showered in 3 days, and just looked as if he still lived in his mothers basement, because he probably did. “Get your ass over here sweet thing!”

Enid rolled her eyes but Carl grabbed the drinks from her. 

“Let me take these, okay? Go out for a smoke or something and cool off. You need it. I’m serious.”

“No it’s fine.” Enid sighed. “I’ve been dealing with their shit all night and if I let on that I’m pissed that’ll negate any tip.”

Carl reached into his pocket and shoved a twenty at her. “Here. You’re tipped. Now go.” 

“Carl.” 

“Just take it. For your nice rack.” And he winked at her. 

“God you’re an asshole. A very sweet, well intentioned asshole but an asshole nonetheless.”

“You’re welcome!” He smiled smugly as she turned. “Oh and don’t tell Alden about the bra comment, he’ll fire me!” He yelled after her. She flicked him off as she pulled a cigarette out and left. 

***

Carls life had been perfect. Until it just wasn’t. 

Small town. Typical family with a white picket fence. 

His dad was the county sheriff and was well liked by the vast majority of law abiding citizens in their sleepy town and surrounding areas. He was the kind of guy that would tip his hat as he walked by, and Carl had spent his entire childhood absolutely adoring him. Not much happened in King County. Last week Mr. Jorgensens dog had bit someone, and that had been a big deal. But being the sheriff was also a big deal. 

His mom was your typical home-maker and made sure they were the kind of family that ate pancakes every Saturday morning. She also made sure he kept his grades up, was polite, and always had his hair cut perfectly. Until, well, she didn’t.  

Leaving Junior year his biggest worry had definitely been picking a college and dealing with the fact that his mother was pregnant. That had been quite the ordeal and something to come to terms with. But he couldn't fool himself- he loved the shit out of his baby sister. After all- someone had to. Oh, and there was also that small detail that he had realized he was into guys just as much as he was into girls. But his pancake making mom didn’t know that yet, because, well, she was now a drunk. 

Because his life wasn’t perfect anymore.

Life had been great, until it wasn’t. Until Lori got bored. Until Carl walked in on her screwing his dads partner one day after school. Until Lori got pregnant and Carl wanted so badly to tell his dad about the affair. Until Shane took him aside one day and told him what he would do to Carl if he had uttered a word to his dad. Shane, who had been his rock his entire life, threatening to ground him into a pulp if he stepped out of line. 

He supposed things could be worse in that department. Carl was ‘casually’ screwing around with one of his friends, Ron, for the past fee months, who had a real piece of shit father and he knew what routinely happened in that house. Ron didn’t even try and explain away his bruises to him anymore.

He liked Ron enough, liked Ron enough that some days he wished it was more than just screwing around, but he didn’t need to complicate his life any further. Because the sex was good and it made him forget about everything even if just for a few moments. He learned early on that he liked it rough, which Ron wasn’t complaining about because it gave him some kind of control back that he had lost over his piece of shit father. And Carl, well it was just a way for him to deal with his guilt. For not being able to keep shit together while his dad was dying in a hospital bed somewhere, for not helping his family as much as he could, for not protecting his sister from their drunk ass mom. 

***

So, going into his senior year things were pretty fucked. And then Judith was born and everything seemed fine, seemed like maybe she was the missing piece that their little fucked up family needed. His dad was such a fantastic father (even if it was questionable on whether she was actually his or not). And Carl, to his surprise, was truly enjoying having a sister. 

And then- four weeks after she was born, to the day, Rick was shot. Everything about those few days were such a haze, but at the same time he remembered every single painful detail.

He’ll be awake soon. Everyone told him. He’ll be fine. 

But that was bullshit, and Carl knew it. Because it had been 6 months, and his dad was no closer to waking up than the day he had been shot. 

Although it had been job related, King County could only afford to pay Ricks normal salary for so long, and it wasn’t long before they weren’t paying anything at all. What they had saved up went fast, especially with a new and rather unexpected baby. Lori had gotten a job as a CNA, but her shifts were so sporadic that it made things difficult to figure out with Judith. 

Carls best friend Enid had been an absolute saving grace. He’d met her a few years back because her dad worked at the Sheriffs office too, and even though she was 3 years older than him they took to each other fast. Her boyfriend Alden owned a small, but popular bar in town, and she’d offered Carl a job the day he turned 18 in the late summer before his senior year, when he’d lamented over the fact that he’d have to find one to keep up on bills. 

That was 3 months ago. And it turned out he wasn’t a half bad bartender. It was something he really enjoyed, despite the late nights that turned into mornings trying to study for his AP classes, because in his mind he still fooled himself that he could get into his dream university of Auburn. But he could only keep it up for so long, because he knew he was fooling himself. His grades weren’t slipping, but his home life- well that was another story. 

***

Carl grabbed the two drinks and made his way over to Dan and Joe. They were pretty typical of what you’d find in this bar, only they were a little more obnoxious than the usual customer and they had been getting more rowdier as the evening went on. It was a Tuesday, and Carl couldn’t help but wonder how they didn’t have anything better to do than get drunk at the local dive bar. They weren’t thrilled to see Carl, but he assured them Enid would be back in after her smoke and they settled down some and ordered 2 more shots. 

Besides them, the bar was pretty empty. There were two other couples who Carl recognized, and then a man that Carl had never seen before at a table next to the bar. It was a rarity that he happened upon a stranger at Aldens. Especially a rather attractive stranger at that. He appeared older than his dad (but, shit, that had never stopped him before from being interested because hey-o daddy issues), and he was wearing a leather jacket and had a beard that just seemed to fit his personality perfectly. He almost seemed like he'd fit into the same crowd as Joe and Dan, only he was about 10 times more clean cut and didn't seem to absolutely exude vile-ness from him. 

He dove back into his calculus book, willing himself to just focus for 3 seconds. He’d gotten through 2 problems when his mind wandered to his sister, hoping she was safe at home with-

A whistle interrupted his thoughts. 

Shit. Attractive stranger had apparently been waiting on a server (and that server was currently him), and he'd come up to the bar looking for him. 

“Oh shit man, sorry. What can I get you?”

“Just another one of those fantastic Jack and Cokes that you keep slingin’.” He leaned against the bar, with a gorgeous grin and the whitest teeth Carl had ever seen. 

Carl scoffed but grinned back at him. “Alright. I don’t know about fantastic, but coming right up.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” The man settled on a bar stool. “The perfect drink is an art, and you my friend have it down. Not too heavy on the Jack and not too heavy on the Coke. Not like all of those cheap bastards who give me a single drop of whiskey. And not too much Jack like a college girl who’s trying to impress me.”

Carl shrugged, but smiled back at him. No tact. He had no tact. 

“You even old enough to be working here?” The man asked him after a beat. 

Carl rolled his eyes. “Last time I checked I was.”

The man narrowed his eyes, cocked his head at him and leaned back a little as if he was sizing him up. 

“There’s no way in hell you're 21.”

“Well, you’re correct.” Carl said, as he sat down the Jack and Coke. “Serving age in Georgia’s 18....Bartending age is 21, but. Let's not tell anyone that. So yes. Just old enough.” 

The older man grinned at him- again. Carl could get used to his smile, he thought. 

“Well mister just old enough, you sure make a damn good drink. By the way- those wastes of space give you any more problems tonight, just let me know.” He nodded to the corner, but Carl didn’t need to follow his look to know who he was talking about. 

“Oh them? I can handle them. But uh- thanks.” 

He smiled back at him, and the man continued to flash his annoyingly bright teeth at him. Carls legs went a little weak, but he was hoping he wasn’t making it obvious. 

The man had no idea that Carl swung both ways, after all, right? It was a fact that he only had figured out about himself just recently. So certainly this man had no clue. He was just…. being friendly. 

Either way, Carl knew he was absolutely not going to get anywhere on his Calculus homework tonight. 

**

“Carl just give up and go home.” Enid said a half hour later. He was practically falling asleep over the ridiculously large Calculus textbook that he was supposed to be absorbing while simultaneously mixing the random drink here and there. 

“I’m fine, E.”

“Judith keep you up last night?”

“Yep.” He rubbed his eyes. “And my mom's on at 11 again, so, guess who has baby duty. Again.” 

“You want me to come over after I’m off and do a feeding for you?” Enid offered with a smile. 

Carl shook his head and yawned. “You have better things to do than hang out with me. Like hang out with your super cool boyfriend who owns this joint, remember?” 

“My super cool boyfriend pays your bills. Don’t you forget it.” She winked at him.  

“Anyways- how’s your dad?” Enid asked very hesitantly as if she was trying to navigate a minefield. Carl looked over at her with a look that she knew well. 

“He’s the same as the last 86 times you checked Enid.” He groaned out, annoyed. 

She tskd at him. “Alright, alright. Sorry I asked.”

Carl sighed and ran a hand over his face. “No. No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I snapped at you, I’m just…tired.”

“I know. Which is exactly why you should let me come over and watch Judith tonight.” She said with a triumphant grin. 

Carl sighed again dramatically. “How? How do you always do that?” 

“Because I’m a woman and I’m always going to get my way.” 

Carl laughed and looked back down at his book. The numbers, at this point, were blurring together. He was exhausted. He was barely going to get any sleep again tonight, and he had no idea how he was even going to read his Calculus test let alone pass it. 

“What’s the point.” He said to no one as he closed the book. “What am I even doing anymore?” 

“Excuse me mister AP Calc? You did not just say what I think you said, Grimes.” Enid chastised him. 

“No- I’m serious.” He threw the book in his bag, and turned towards her. “My dads not gonna wake up, E. It’s been 6 months. I’ll just be a bartender the rest of my life, fuck it.”

“Carl…” she said lowly, because she knew this conversation was coming at some point or the other.

“Don’t patronize me. You know I fucking hate that. You know I’m tired of being coma sheriffs kid.” 

Enid walked over to him, leveling with him, her hands on her hips. 

“What is up with you tonight? Just last night you were all excited about applying to Au-“

“How am I supposed to go to college and leave my mom with Judith and no way to pay the bills?” He interrupted her, and shook his head. 

“Well with your grades you're probably going to get a full ride.”

Carl looked over to the man that was sitting at the bar before he blurted out the next part. The man either had the best poker face in the world, or he was as entranced with his phone as he appeared, because he seemed none the wiser to their conversation. 

“When I came home from school yesterday my mom was passed out. Drunk. With Judith in the bed.” There. It was out. Finally. He’d wanted to tell Enid from the second it happened. 

Silence. Out of all the things, Enid had not been expecting that. She knew Lori had a drinking problem, but Carl hid it well. 

“Wh-what?” She stuttered out in disbelief. 

Carl just nodded. “So tell me how I’m supposed to go away to college and leave her with my mom, Enid? Judith was hysterical and I couldn’t wake my mom up. Honestly she’s lucky she didn’t fucking kill Judith. She could have smothered her, or Judith could have rolled off the bed and broke her skull in half, or- I don’t even know. But you tell me, how am I supposed to leave her?” 

“Okay. Okay.” Enid said calmly and rationally as she always did when she was trying to problem solve.  But there was not an easy solution to this problem. “Shit.” She finally said. 

“Yeah. Shit.” Carl answered back dully. 

“Girl! ‘Nother round! Get that fine, skinny ass over here.” The men in the corner screamed, interrupting their trance. The shout made Enid jump and she rolled her eyes. Carl though, pushed himself off the bar. He had had it, and he just wasn’t in the mood. He grabbed two PBR’s and cracked them open and made his way over. 

“Enid’s not going to be serving you anymore.” He said pointedly as he set the beers down aggressively, half of the liquid pouring out the top. “You're stuck with my skinny ass until you can speak to her like she’s an actual person, or until you leave. Leaving would be preferred.”  

Carl knew they were going to walk out on him, tab unpaid (not that Alden wouldn’t of course completely understand). But he didn’t even care at this point. 

One of the men paused, leaned back in his chair and whistled.

“Well, well, well. We have a new sheriff in town Dan.”

Dan looked confused. Dan also looked like he had no brain cells and was probably perpetually confused. 

“Your Grimes’ kid.” He began, and Carl swallowed hard, knowing where this was going. “I recognize that shitty look you're giving me from a mile away. Just got out of USP because of your dear old pops. Did a year and a half ‘cause a that sonabitch. But I’m home now… and now you tell me- where is your dear old dad?” 

Carl just glared at him and felt every single bone in his body raging. 

“Oh that’s right. Dear old daddy is in the hos-pi-tal.” He enunciated the last word as much as he could. “Been what now, 6 months? You can’t think he’s actually gonna wake up now, do you? Bet your mommas happy. Gives her more time to whore aroun-”

Carl saw red, and he didn’t know any more after that. He lunged, and landed an epic hit square on Joes nose because he’d caught him unexpectedly. He was expecting what came after- Dan was going to beat him to a pulp, and he was just going to have to take it. Maybe he’d put him in a coma, too, and he could just forget about all of his problems. 

But suddenly someone was pulling him out of the melee, holding him by the collar as if he was a scruffed feral cat (okay, he kind of was at this point) and Enid was screaming at him to stop. 

“Gentlemen, I think it’s time you called it a night. Don’t worry, tabs on me. Now get.” 

Whoever was holding him spoke cooly to the two men. Carl was shaking with anger. He knew that voice instantly, but he still shook out of his grasp to confirm that it had been the man at the bar he had spoken to before. 

Dan and Joe righted themselves, and literally dusted themselves off. They glared at Carl, but knew there was no point in going after him. 

“You’ll get yours.” Joe whispered out to Carl. Just to be a dick, he flipped the table that they had been sitting at, sending it and its contents flying before they walked out. All Carl could do was sigh, and bore a hole in the back of their heads as they walked out. He turned to the man next to him. 

“You didn’t have to do that. I can take care of myself.” Carl glowered at the stranger and mentally assessed his injuries. Nothing hurt too bad yet, besides his nose. 

“Sure kid.” The man shrugged and just shook his head at Carl. “You weigh all of, what, 90 pounds?”

“I’m…wiry.” He shrugged. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” 

“Thanks….” He said, realizing he had no idea who this random man who had just saved him was. Because yeah, he totally would have gotten his ass beat if it hadn’t been for him.

“Negan.” The man offered with a grin. “And who are you besides being just old enough?” 

“Carl.” Carl didn’t offer anything beyond that, because he didn’t feel like getting into the fact that he was coma sheriffs son. 

He suddenly realized Enid was behind him. 

“You okay?” She asked quietly. “You have a bloody nose.” 

“Shit, really?” He wiped his sleeve on his nose and did indeed have blood on it, but it didn’t seem too serious. 

“Well good thing I already tipped you.” He joked at her, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Ha ha.” Enid said dryly. “You could have gotten yourself killed, you asshole.” 

“I’m fine E. Really.” 

That was about as exciting as things got at Aldens. The place cleared out not long after that, and they cleaned up the disaster of a table that Joe and Dan left overturned.

Negan finished his drink, and then he looked to Enid who had handed him his bill after he’d requested to close out. 

“Use this to pay for those shitheads tabs and split the rest. No reason you two should be stuck with their tab. Seen too many assholes like them in my life.” 

He nodded at Carl as he walked out and a shiver, or something, ran up his spine at the look the man gave him. Carl turned his attention back to Enid just as she was about to open up the black server envelope and her eyes widened immediately.

“What?” Carl asked, walking over to her. 

“Carl... there’s $500 in here.” She said, stunned, in fact pulling out 5 $100 bills.

Carl shook his head. “No way. There’s no way, he must have gotten the bills stuck together or something and not realized it. His tab was like, $22. Give that to me, I’ll catch him before he leaves.” 

Carl bolted out after him, hoping to catch him because he was absolutely not going to let this man tip them over $400. It was ludicrous. It was what he made in a week, if not more. The door swung open, the Georgia early fall heat hitting him like a wall. 

Only, that wasn’t the only thing that hit him. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? Shit, I was about to turn in for the night on New Years Eve.” 

Chapter Text

He’s a dumbass. In that moment Carl Grimes wasn't sure how he ever thought he would amount to anything in life. Because only a fucking idiot would run out blindly after two guys who just tried to kick his ass. And two said guys, of course , were still outside of Aldens. 

Clearly, he was a dumbass. Auburn? Hilarious. 

Carl felt his breath quicken, and he turned around to see Dan and Joe leaning against the building smoking a cigarette. Joe kicked off the wall with one foot and sauntered over to him. One of Carl’s strong suits, to his dismay, had never been his height, and once again it was not working to his advantage. 

“You seem to have a problem with us.” Joe said smoothly. Carl wanted to run, wanted to head back into the bar as fast as he could, but he was still angry and something was keeping him frozen to the spot. 

“No problem at all. You’re outside of the bar now, right where I wanted you to be.” Carl said it with a lot of confidence for some who had absolutely no confidence at all in their survival odds. 

After that things happened so quickly that he didn’t quite know what had just transpired. Joe was suddenly right on him, and Dan was behind him with a knife on his neck. 

Well, shit. That escalated quickly. 

“Okay…” Carl said, almost trying to convince himself that things were just quite alright. “You guys really going to kill someone over a bar fight?”

“Who said we were going to kill you?” Joe asked. 

“Yeah who said-” Dan started, but Joe silenced him with a look. Carl has been right, Dan was most certainly not the brains behind the operation. 

“Just a guess. I mean- knife and all.” Carl shrugged as much as he could, but it just made the knife dig more into his skin. He was pretty sure he was going to either pass out or shit himself- the former was preferable- but he was determined to keep an air of calmness about him. 

“You know Grimes, your family thinks they run this shitty little town, but you’re no better than anyone else here.” 

Carl narrowed his eyes at that and scoffed. “No, we don’t. My family is in shambles because of this shitty little town and because of pieces of shit like you two.” 

He felt the knife dig in a little deeper at that- though okay, maybe he deserved that one. He should really shut up. 

Joe set his gaze on Carl at that. 

“You have quite a mouth on you boy. Can you do anything else with it besides just run it? Because I heard your momma can. How about we see…?”

In about two seconds Carl’s face had gone from confused, then pissed then just oh. Oh. This is going to go that way, as realization set in. 

Carl swallowed hard and tried to look anywhere but at Joe, but the man closed the small amount of distance between them and put his hand on Carl’s chin suddenly. Carl felt like he was about to jump out of his skin at that, and he moved away, back further into Dan inadvertently- not at all where he wanted to be, because really, Dan was ten times more creepy. 

“You’re prettier than your momma, you know that?” Dan said behind him. 

Carl did feel lightheaded at that. Because before there may have been some room for error- maybe he had been reading this situation all wrong. Shit like this only happened to girls, right? But no. His last statement had made his intentions very clear. 

Joe was close to him, much too close, and so was Dan. Carl didn’t see a way out of this, but he felt his mind rushing to hatch some kind of plan. 

But he wasn’t going to go down easily- okay, okay, maybe that was a terrible choice of words he chuckled to himself. Wait Carl get your fucking shit together, you’re an idiot he mentally admonished himself. 

So he did the only thing he could think of. He brought his knee up as hard as he could because Joe had himself very conveniently situated. Joe let out a wail and Carl would have found it funny if the situation wasn’t so fucked. Joe had backed off, but only for a second and he was almost growling as he stalked towards Carl again. 

“Oh you little shit . Pretty as your mama but not as easy, huh?” And Joe swung back and hit him square on the jaw. Carl fell back into Dan a little bit but jumped up as fast as he could, ready to take another blow, until something startled all 3 of them. 

“I thought I told you to leave that fucking kid alone!” A now familiar voice growled out from somewhere. In a flash, Joe was taken down by Negan. Dan was caught off guard for a split second and so Carl did something incredibly stupid- he grabbed the knife by the blade and pulled it down out of Dans reach, and it fell to the ground with a clatter. Carl dived on it, and Dan was left there, defenseless and stuttering. 

“Get the fuck away from me.” Carl spit out, and although he didn’t exactly have a ton of practice with knives considering he was a kid from the suburbs he was surprised it felt rather natural to have one in his hand. He lunged at Dan, his instincts kicking in, and Dan skittered backwards on his hands to get away from him. He could very vaguely hear Joe and Negan fighting in the background, and it didn’t exactly sound pretty. 

“Jesus kid, shit, we didn’t mean nothin’ .” Dan whimpered out and Carl found his adrenaline had fully kicked in. Carl was suddenly on top of him almost, and he had Dan backed against the wall, the man sitting huddled against it. Carl wasn’t sure when the tables had turned as Dan continued to straight whimper but he realized this was…enjoyable? 

No, once again that was a shit choice of words. 

It was a rush. That was better. A rush . 

He suddenly had an idea. It probably wasn’t good that these thoughts were running through him, but it wasn’t something that would cause permanent damage or anything. He jumped up and took his foot, stomping down on Dans hand as hard as he could. He ground it into the concrete as much as his 100 pounds would allow. He prayed he had broken all the little bones in his hand. What were those? Metacarpals? Maybe. 

See. AP BIo was paying off. 

Dan screamed louder than even Judith when she didn’t take a nap and Carl smiled at him. 

He didn’t let it go on for long. Just long enough to get the…message across. 

“Get the fuck out of here.” He said finally as he let his foot up. “Do not come back to Aldens again. And if I see you around Enid I swear to god you’ll never see your hand again.” 

Dan nodded, and grabbed his hand. He literally rolled away and Carl wanted to laugh, but that just felt inappropriate. Besides, he had other pressing matters to attend to- 

Negan and Joe were literally locked together, and though it was hard to tell who was winning, it didn’t really appear like anyone was. Originally he had thought Negan had Joe in a headlock but the more he looked the more he was pretty sure Joe had his thumbs pressed into Negans eyeballs and just- well that was a dick move, everyone knew that. But fine. If Joe was going to fight dirty he could too.

He made up his mind instantaneously. In a fury, he jumped on Joes back, latching himself to the man and the knife flew up to his throat. Joe was more aware of the sudden weight on his back than the knife, but it didn’t take long before he registered the cold metallic feeling. He went slack instantly, letting go of Negan, and Carl, although much smaller than him, was suddenly in control. Carl jumped off of him but kept the knife to his throat so it pulled Joe away from

Negan. He backed him away a little from the man, putting just enough pressure on the blade to lead him where he wanted to. 

He saw Negan blearily look over and a look of shock settled on his face, and he nodded over at Carl. But it wasn’t more than a second later that he was rounding on two of them. 

“You come anywhere near these kids again you’re as good as dead.” Negan spit out at him. He suddenly was rolling up one of his sleeves on his jacket, a little too casually for Carl’s liking given the situation. At first he thought he was just doing it for show, but he felt Joe tense when his eyes laid on one of Negans tattoos.

“Get the fuck out. I don’t want to see you here ever again.” 

Negan nodded at Carl and Carl knew that Joe had gotten the message. He dropped the knife from his throat swiftly, making sure there was no room for error in which Joe could make a grab at it, and jumped away from the man.

Dan had already reached his bike and Joe was fast behind him. They sped off but not before Joe flipped them both off- which was just oh so threatening.

Negan shook his head and then suddenly tore his eyes away from the men speeding off and looked at Carl.

“Well shit kid.” He grinned at him smugly. “I’m impressed .”

Carl just raised his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Know how to handle yourself.”

“I had literally absolutely no idea what I was doing.” Carl said very honestly and grinned at him. 

“Well, you coulda fooled me.” Negan laughed at him. Carl finally took a deep breath and got his bearings.

“You okay?” Negan asked him sincerely. 

Carl just stared at him. Because he supposed of course he was. Physically he was just fine besides his hand and his jaw. But he felt like his brain was having a hard time catching up to the rest of his body. What the fuck had just happened? 

“Here, lemme just take a look at you.” Negan brought his hand up to Carl’s face, and Carl didn’t know if he should look at him or find the street sign next to him extremely interesting suddenly. Well, he wasn’t going to take the cowards way out- he looked right into the mans eyes. 

They were nice- and friendly, and well, beautiful - there was no other word for it- and he was pretty sure he was having heart palpations that weren’t due to adrenaline anymore. Or maybe they were just comforting compared to Dan and Joes. 

“Doesn’t look great, but I think you’ll survive.” Negan grinned again at him. “Put some ice on that when you get home.” 

And then he looked down at Carl’s hand and noticed the blood steaming into the dirt, which Carl had forgotten about. 

“Shit.” Negan grabbed at the bottom of his shirt and tore a small strip of the white cotton material off. Carl caught a tiny glimpse of his abs and- 

Stoppit Carl, he told himself, annoyed by his own antics. Now was not a time to get distracted. 

“What’d ya do, grab the knife?” 

Carl nodded. “Better my knife than my neck.” 

“You got that right kid.” Negan was wrapping the strip around his hand to stop the bleeding for now until Carl got back into the bar.

 “I’m okay, really.” Carl insisted. “Had worse.” 

He hadn’t really. He hadn’t been in a bar fight or gotten his ass kicked or had someone call his mom a whore to his face, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. 

“Uh huh. Well. You think you can handle finding your way back in without dying?”

Carl rolled his eyes. “The way this night is going, probably not.”

Negan huffed out a laugh of agreement. “Why were you comin’ out here anyways?”

“Oh- to give you this back.” And Carl pulled out the 5 one hundred dollar bills. 

Negan got a confused look on his face. 

“Give me what? I gave y’all a $20.” 

But if the grin on his face was indication, he was clearly lying. A silence fell over them, and Carl was sure the man was about to turn around and leave before he could argue with him anymore about the money. 

“Can I give you my number?” Negan suddenly asked, and Carl’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead to realize that the man was very obviously trying to change the subject. 

“I- youwantmynumber?” Carl asked in a rush.

“Yeah I wanna take you to Olive Garden. You like spaghetti?”

Carl just stared at him with his mouth agape. 

Negan started to laugh. “I just wanna make sure you get home okay, Jesus kid- No. But that’s twice in 10 minutes I’ve saved your ass so whether you like it or not I feel some responsibility to make sure you don’t get taken out by a rabid dog or an escaped convict on the way home.”

“I’ll be fine . I can promise there are absolutely no rabid dogs or escaped convicts here or even killer clowns. But. Okay. I mean- if you want. Sure.” Carl tried to recover from his sudden lack of any brain activity. He patted his side, and realized his phone was inside. 

“I don’t- I left my phone inside-”

“Here then.” And Negan was handing him his phone so that he could put his number in it. Carl checked his number about 9 times before he handed it back to make sure his stupidity hasn’t turned into dyslexia. 

“Thanks. But really, I’ll survive getting home.”

Negan turned around finally and headed towards the only bike left in the lot. Of course Carl thought. How stereotypical of him to have a motorcycle. 

“Night kid. Hope the rest of your night is boring.” 

“Shit it better be. Thanks, uh. Again.” 

Well. That had been weird. The entire night. Weird. And he had somehow ended up with $500 in his pocket that he absolutely did not want. How the fuck had Negan gotten away without Carl giving him the money back?

Oh yeah. Olive Garden. 

What the fuck. 

Carl made his way in, and Enid nearly fell over when she saw his face and the bandage around his hand. Apparently his jaw and eye were already bruising if her reaction was any indication. 

“What the hell Carl?! You were outside for 5 minutes! Did you get mugged or something over that money?!”

Carl didn’t say anything and just set the money on the counter. 

“Long story. But no, I didn't get mugged. Here- buy Alden a fancy steak dinner or something.”

Enid scoffed at him. “Yeah, okay Carl. What happened to your hand?!”

“Nothing. Can you just let it go?”

Enid wasn’t going to let it go, but she also knew how stubborn Carl was. She grabbed the money and broke one of the hundreds so that it would cover Negans tab and handed the rest back to Carl. 

“Go get something for Judy.”

Carl took the money back but gave her a hundred. “At least keep some of it.” 

Enid shook her head at him. “You’re so stubborn, you know that?” 

Carl shrugged and grinned at her, happy he had half- won. 

“Okay I’m callin’ it. Go the fuck home.”

Carl gave in, for once. He was exhausted and his hand was killing him. Before he left Enid urged him to ice his face once he got home, and he rolled his eyes at her and headed out. 

The rest of the adrenaline that had been running through him had started to wane on the car ride home and he realized just how exhausted he was. His mind turned over the skirmish between Dan and Joe and he wondered just why he’d enjoyed crushing Dan's hand to a pulp. Okay, he knew why, because Dan was an asshole- but, still. 

Once he finally made it home he made small talk with his mom- okay, well he tried . She obviously had questions about his face and his hand. 

Initiate typical mom freak out. 

‘Well mom, some guy who your husband arrested- oh yeah remember him, your husband- accused you of being a whore- which I mean you sometimes are but whatever we all have our faults- and I lost my shit’ was not going to go over well. 

She was all over him, as a normal mother would be, but he could tell she was also rushed to get to work. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.” He must have said 87 times. Carl was a relatively respectful, quiet and well liked kid- he kinda had to be, as the son of a county sheriff- so for him to come home looking like he’d been on the receiving end of a fight was a relatively new one for Lori. 

He made up some story about how he’d gotten into a small fight with one of the idiot college kids who didn’t want to pay their tab. 

“Well let me call Shane, honey-”  she had said, and Carl quickly cut her off because no she was absolutely not bringing her boyfriend slash Carl’s uncle slash his dying dads best friend into this one. So he insisted that it was not a big deal and everything was fine and aren’t you going to be late for work? Which she was at this point so that actually got her out of the door, but not before she grabbed the first aid kit and made him promise he would take care of his hand and at least ice his face. 

She kissed him on the forehead as she left and Carl felt something tug at him. He missed his mom. Missed his family. Missed how things used to be. He did have good parents. His mom was trying, even if she wasn’t coping well. 

“Love you, mom.” He said to her as she left. Lori stopped in her tracks and she genuinely smiled at him, because it had been quite awhile since he had said it first to her. 

“Love you baby. Get some sleep. Take care of your sister.” 

He was fairly positive he had just made her whole day. 

***

After she left he searched the cabinet for ibuprofen and set off towards his room to attempt to study. The second he flopped down on his bed 

his phone buzzed and he ignored it for a moment, because he already knew exactly who it was. Ron. He couldn’t really ignore it for longer than two minutes though, because he was pretty positive he knew exactly where Ron was. 

“Outside” was the only thing it said, and Carl sighed loudly to no one and threw his book off the bed. He wasn’t in the mood tonight. At all. He walked over slowly and opened the door, a little begrudgingly because he knew why Ron was here, because there was usually only one reason why he would be here. 

And then he stopped in his tracks. 

“Oh. Shit.” Carl said softly, taking in the sight of Ron’s face. “What the fuck happened this time?”

Carl may have looked like shit but Ron looked ten times worse. Apparently it had been a whiskey night for Pete. The entire left side of his face looked like it had been a punching bag- this was what always what happened on whiskey nights for Pete. 

“Uh more like what happened to you?! You already know what happened to me.” Ron said incredulously as he pushed his way through the door past Carl. 

“ Nothing . It’s nothin-” jesus, here we go again. 

“Cut that shit out. What happened ?” Ron asked again, not taking his eyes off of him. Carl sighed, but knew he’d have to come clean about the whole thing. 

“These two assholes were there and my dad arrested them a long time ago. So they’re, uh, not exactly part of the Carl fan club to begin with. But then they were being total dicks to Enid. And I may or may not have told them to leave because they were being total dicks, and then one made a cheap shot at my mom and I just- I don’t know. I lost it.”

“Shit. Are you okay?” Ron brought his hand up over the cut on his eye. Carl jumped a little when Ron’s hand made contact it and he swatted Ron’s hand away, which he found strange as that wasn’t his reaction when Negan had done the same thing. And Ron he knew- Negan, not so much . 

“I’m fine. I’m just exhausted, and I have a Calc test to study for that I’m going to fail an-“

“Stop.” Ron kissed him suddenly and interrupted his ramblings. 

“You’re not going to fail your Calc test because you’re the smartest person I know. And you need ice on your face to stop the swelling- believe me I know.” He made his way over to the fridge and settled on a bag of frozen vegetables. “This’ll do, better than nothing. It’s what Daryl always gives me at the shop when I show up looking like shit.

You’d think between him and I we’d invest in an actual ice pack like two adults.”

“Yeah that’ll never happen.” Carl mumbled out, feeling ridiculous with the bag of vegetables on his face. “So what with him happened this time?” Carl was set on changing the subject back to Ron. 

Ron shrugged. “Same old, you know.” He said nonchalantly, like it was totally normal for your dad to beat your face in on a regular basis. 

“He drinking?”

Ron nodded, but only slightly. “He can kick my ass all he wants to, whatever. But when he goes after my mom or Sam I just snap, you know?”

No, Carl didn’t know. His mom had slapped him once but he was really being a shit and he had kinda deserved it. Maybe not, but it had been a week after Rick had fallen into a coma and neither of them had slept for 72 hours, and things were just bad. So he had given her a pass on that one. And his dad- well he was pretty sure his dad had never even killed a fly. 

Compare that to Rons younger brother, who had a kick on his closet so when things got rough his mom could hide him away, and Carl knew. He knew he didn’t have it that bad. So no, Carl didn’t know, and he was grateful. 

So although Carl walked away from some of their fights with bruises when Ron got a little too testy Carl couldn’t exactly blame him. Because it was what Ron knew, and it was an outlet for him. And Carl, well part of Carl didn’t mind it, because it gave him something to focus on besides the absolute shit storm that was always brewing in his head. 

“M’sorry. That must fucking…suck.” Carl said, quite lamely. Cause he didnt what else to say. “You sure you don’t want me to talk to…someone at my dads office?” 

Normally that’d be Shane. But he wasn’t exactly on the best terms with Shane right now. (Not that Shane knew that). 

“Carl, don't even start. You know how bad things could get..”

“Things are already bad.” Ron just glared at him, and he had sensed the shift in Ron, so he knew a change of subject was in order. “How was work?” 

“Interesting.” Ron drawled out as he turned around and searched in the fridge for a beer. 

“Care to elaborate?” Because work was never interesting for Ron, as it was just him and Daryl, and to say Daryl was a man of few words was actually generous. Daryl was essentially a man of no words, but to Carl he was Uncle Daryl and the man had never been anything but nice to him and his family. 

“Okay if I have one of these?” Ron said, pulling out a PBR.

Carl shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck. It’s shit beer, anyways. Rather you have it than my mom.” 

“Now you’re thinkin’. Anyways. Daryl hired someone. Which is like-”

“Weird?” Carl finished his sentence. 

“Yeah- I mean we needed the help, you know that, but you also know Daryl. He doesn’t like anyone . But I guess him and this guy go way back. He seems cool though. Definitely knows his shit. His wife is dying though. Cancer. Total buzzkill.” 

“Well if he’s a buzzkill I bet he gets along great with Daryl, then.” 

“Oh no no, dudes fucking hilarious. I mean his life sucks but like you wouldn’t know it. So nice to have someone besides Daryl sulking around.  I heard Daryl laugh today. He laughed, Carl! The last time Daryl laughed was when Gary Sanders backed his Buick over my foot and that was like...8 months ago.” 

“That’s…that’s highly impressive actually.” 

Carl jumped up on the counter and yawned, holding the frozen pack of corn on his face and feeling like the worlds biggest asshat. Ron came over and stood between his legs. 

“Go to bed. You’re exhausted.”

Carl shook his head. “I gotta study. I might as well just-“ a yawn interrupted him- “stay up til Judith wakes me up.”

Ron looked at him for a moment, and Carl stared questionably. 

“You seem off. What’s goin’ on?” Ron asked hesitantly.. 

“Nothin’?. I mean besides the fact that I got my ass kicked tonight.” 

“Carl. You know I’m gonna pester you til I get it out of you. What’s goin’ on?”

Carl narrowed his eyes because he had figured out exactly where this was coming from. 

“Did Enid put you up to this?”

Ron grinned. Busted. “Maybe. But… but I can tell too. We’re just, you know. Worried about you.” 

Carl was silent for a moment, mulling things over. 

“I’m just…it’s all kind of hitting at once you know? Stuff with my dad. It’s been…6 months. And college just seems…it seems unrealistic right now.”

Ron shook his head. “No way. There’s absolutely no way you’re getting out of going to college so don’t even try it. Your dad was so excited for you to go. And besides, you’re the smart one here. Who else is going to be the breadwinner in this relationship and support me?” 

Carl laughed and moved a little closer to him, officially won over for the night. Ron wasn’t an asshole all the time it turned out. Only some of the time. 

“Can I stay?” Ron finally asked, putting his hands on Carl’s knee. 

Carl shrugged. “I mean. I’m just- I’m exhausted…and I have to study… ” he trailed off because he knew exactly what Ron staying meant and just didn’t have it in him tonight. 

“Hey. I mean to sleep, okay?” Ron put a hand on his chin and made him look at him. “I’m not gonna try anything. I just don’t wanna go home.”

“Ron- when have we ever stayed in the same bed and not had sex?” Because it was true. 

“ Once we did. Because we were both too drunk to do anything and you threw up on me.”

“I did not. I threw up on your shoe, big difference.” 

“Last time I checked my foot counts as part of my body Carl.”

“You’re an ass.” But Carl kissed him anyways. “Yeah, you can stay. But seriously, I need to study before Judith wakes up.”

“Scouts honor I won’t try anything. I won’t even try to distract you...” his hand started to move up Carl’s thigh and Carl swatted it away and rolled his eyes. 

“Ron, seriously. The breadwinner has to focus.” 

Ron held his hands up and grinned. “Alright, alright. I promise.” 

They made their way up to Carl’s bedroom, and Carl laid between Ron’s legs and half-studied for as long as they could while the other boy played with his hair and made random remarks at how dumb calculus was, which Carl had to agree with even if he was good at it. 

After about a half hour Ron let out an extremely dramatic yawn. “You’re really gonna keep studying?” Ron asked him. “Think it’d be better for you to just sleep so you know, have a functioning brain.” 

Carl considered the thought. He snapped the  book shut, agreeing with him. There wasn’t anything else that he could absorb further, and it was better for him to have half a brain.

“You’re right. I might as well get some sleep before Judith wakes up. Speaking of that

I need to go grab her monitor-”

“I’ll get it, don’t worry.” Ron slid out from under Carl and jumped out of bed, knowing that it was downstairs on the kitchen counter where Lori had left it and he’d seen it when he’d walked in. 

“Hey-“ Carl called to him as he walked out. 

“Yeah?” Ron turned around and questioned him.

“Just- thanks, Ron. I’m glad you came over tonight.” 

Ron just smiled at him and turned towards the door. Just as Ron walked out Carl saw his phone light up. 

It was a text from an unknown number- only he knew who it was and felt his heart jump a little. 

“ You get home alive?” 

He could ignore it. He could also not respond til morning and play it cool. But it was now or never with Ron coming back. 

“ I did. Thanks. Things aren’t usually as exciting as they were tonight. I generally don’t try and get my ass beat multiple times in one night.” 

He checked to make sure his alarm was on and set the phone face down next to him as Ron was walking back in. Not that Ron and him were an exclusive thing or anything, but he didn’t feel like answering questions tonight as to why someone his dads age was texting him in a probably but possibly not platonic way. 

Ron hit the light as he walked in and Carl was instantly 5 times more tired. It was 1am. Judith usually was up around 3:30, but she was a good baby and went back to bed pretty quickly after her bottle. Ron plugged in the monitor and jumped back into bed with him. 

“You work tomorrow?” Ron asked him as he laid down and pulled Carl to him. 

“Nope.” Carl sighed out. Thank god because he probably would have fallen asleep during his shift and risk Enid scribbling on his face again. 

“You want me to go with you to see your dad?” Ron asked softly, and a little hesitantly. 

“I-yeah. Yeah, sure, okay.” Carl tried to not act as surprised as he was. Ron had never volunteered to go willingly with him, and it was just very… couple-ish. 

“Okay, good.” 

“Thanks Ron.” He said sincerely. Some days it was easy to hate Ron, and then days like today made him cling on to those good times during the bad days. It confused him, but he figured it was just something that he’d have to deal with a day at a time. 

He wasn’t always sure how he felt about Ron, but on the nights that the other boy stayed over it was nice to have a warm body next to him. Ron was an alright cuddler, if nothing else. A million things were running through his mind, but he was asleep within seconds. 

When his alarm went off, he had been in what felt like one of the deepest sleeps of his life. He grabbed his phone, snoozed it, and was half tempted to throw it at the wall so that it wouldn’t go off again and he wouldn’t have to deal with anything today. 

6:15. He wondered how long it had been since Judith had gone back to bed-

Judith. Judith never woke up last night. 

Carl actually gasped out loud and shot out of the  bed. 

“Hey.” Ron called out sleepily to him. “Hey I got her last night. She’s fine.” 

“You-what?” Carl questioned, feeling his heartbeat come down to a more bearable level. 

“Judith. She woke up at like 3 and you were too tired to hear her, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that tired. You literally didn’t even move. So I got her, it was no big deal.” 

“You…thanks.” Carl said stupidly. “Shit. I can’t believe I didn’t hear her. Sorry.”

“Hey. Don’t apologize. You’re exhausted.”

Carl knew why Ron was doing this- because this was the Ron cycle. His wrist was still bruised and sore from last week, when Ron had gotten pissed off at him for skipping out on plans that they had because Carl had to watch Judith unexpectedly. Ron had been pissed already from a beating he’d taken that day from his dad. And as usual one thing led to another. Carl didn’t take a lot of shit from Ron, but his list of people he could count on seemed to be quickly dwindling nowadays and Ron was at the top of that list. 

And besides, Ron wasn’t all bad- nights and mornings like this proved it and made him think that he was just being ridiculous about being so upset that Ron roughed him up a little- because that’s what Ron always did after he lost it on Carl. He made up for it In little ways like this and went out of his way to make things better. So, It wasn’t a big deal, Carl told himself. They weren’t even together. He could leave Ron whenever he wanted to. 

Carl nodded and after his panic settled, he laid back down but as he was doing so his eyes fell on his phone again. He grabbed it quickly, remembering his last text- Negan. 

He was a little surprised to realize how disappointed he felt to see that the man hadn’t said anything back. He shouldn’t be. He barely knew him, and he of course was just making sure he got home unscathed- so really, the conversation was done. But, maybe a little part of him was hoping Negan had texted him back. 

Ron must have seen the look on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked Carl, concern in his voice, guilt falling over Carl, who put his phone down.

“Huh?” He questioned, feigning innocence. 

“You just looked upset.” Ron said quietly. 

“Oh. Oh no, I’m just.” Anything. Think of anything. “It was my dads nurse. Michonne. She was just letting me know that his o2 dipped a little last night.”

Jesus, Carl took that a little far. Well. He’d gone through enough shit with his dad that he figured he could use him as a free pass for life and not feel guilty. 

“Oh shit. Is he okay?”

“All good.” Carl smiled at him.

They got ready quickly, and made their way downstairs, Ron throwing a “Hiya Mrs. G.” as he waltzed in the kitchen following Carl and they saw Lori sitting at the kitchen table as she had just gotten home from work. It wasn’t exactly a secret in their small town that Pete was hitting his wife, and so Lori was never surprised when Ron stayed over and she had a soft spot for him. 

Ron had moved out from his parents house a few months after he graduated high school last year, but Lori was oblivious to the fact, just like she was oblivious to the fact that the two boys were fucking on the regular. She had her own worries about who she was fucking after all. 

All in all Carl couldn’t give two fucks about the whole fucking thing. He just wanted to pass his fucking Calculus test. Fuck. His fucking toast was burnt and suddenly so was his last fuck. 

He was stressed and they were running early for once, and his mind was still trying to wrap around everything that had happened last night. He concluded there was only one good use of their extra time. So he shoved Ron against the other side of the garage where Lori couldn’t see them and went down on him, because burnt toast be dammed, he’d still go to school with something in his stomach at least. 

Just like with his grades, the better he was at something Carl found that he enjoyed it that much more. And Carl very thoroughly enjoyed giving head. 

***

The rest of his morning went surprisingly well. He ended up doing better on his Calculus exam that he anticipated and his good friend Glenn brought 2 day old pizza to school for all of them that he had left over from his job. With all the bad luck Carl has been having lately, it didn’t take much to make him feel like he was having a good day. And pizza made everyone’s day better. 

Until, of course, it went spectacularly downhill as usual. 

He was on his way to the shop that Ron worked at when his mom called. 

“Carl where are you?” 

“Going to see dad?” He was already annoyed by her tone and knew this wasn’t going to end well. It seemed his mom wanted to spend as little time with Judith as humanly possible. It wasn’t that she had to get to work, she wasn’t on til midnight- she just wanted time with her boyfriend. Because she was drunk, and drunk Lori was much different than sober Lori. She thought she hid it well, but Carl knew a lot more than he let on, and it was slowly wearing on him. His dad wasn’t even dead yet. And- Shane, of all people?

“Well you didn’t tell me.” She snapped. “I assumed you’d be home after school. I have somewhere to be at 5.”

Or someone to do. 

“Well, mom, I have a life too. And sorry but Judiths your kid.”

He regretted the words the moment he said them, but he was just over it. 

“ Excuse me?” She said sharply. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll call Beth, okay? I just. I haven’t seen dad in like 3 days and I felt like I should go.”

“Carl, honey, I know you want to see your father as much as you can, but at some point we just have to…”

“We have to what mom? What! ?” 

We have to let him die? Forget about him? Cheat on him with his best friend? Lori must have come to her senses through her haze. 

“Nothing Carl. Just go see him- you, you should. Go see your father. I’ll call Beth.”

“Fine. I’ll be home by 6. Bye.” 

He hated this. Hated all of this. Hated fighting with his mom, hated that people looked at them like the poor Grimes family who was waiting for someone to wake up who probably wasn’t. Hated that his mom was giving up on his dad. Well, his mom had given up on him a long time ago.

His dad wasn’t going to wake up. He wasn’t going to college. He’d be stuck in this shitty ass town for god knows how long, with Ron, who he had to convince himself that he was what Carl wanted. 

His phone was buzzing, and it was his mom again. Probably wanting to apologize. He didn’t want to hear it. He felt anger boil up, felt himself slip again. 

“Fuck you!” And he threw the phone at the brick wall of Daryls shop and stared at it until it stopped buzzing.

He slid down the wall and closed his eyes, running a hand over his face. Cool. Now he was pissed, poor, about to have a dead dad and probably had a cracked phone screen. Cool. 

He felt the very foreign feeling of hot tears threatening his eyes, and he couldn’t believe this was happening here and now. He hadn’t cried once since this entire thing began. But now, here he was. Sitting outside of his stupid sort of boyfriends shop and trying to hold his shit together. Ready to go see his dad and try and convince himself that it was time to just give up already. 

“Damn kid, if you really didn’t want to go to Olive Garden with me you shoulda just said so.” 

A voice said next to him, and he jumped. It was Negan. Negan of all fucking people. God this day couldn’t get any worse. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. 

“What are you doing here?” Carl asked him, more defensively than he meant to. 

“Could ask you the exact same thing.” The man replied smoothly. 

“Well. I mean. I live in this town. And seeing as I never saw you before last night, you don’t.”

“What, can’t a guy just wanna chat with the friendly neighborhood bartender?”

Carl shrugged, not wanting to take the bait but also really wanting to play along at the same time. “It’s a small town and people don’t take nicely to outsiders usually.” Negan stepped back and a grin came on his face 

“Well excuse the shit out of me, young man. And I do live here now, for your information.” The man shrugged. “You don’t strike me as the kind of kid that would hang out around Daryls.”

“Oh- I’m, uh, not. My…” But what was Ron? So he changed the subject. “You know Daryl?” 

“Sure do. Go way back. Reason I’m here, actually, well among other things. He offered me a job, so here I am.”

It checked out. Negan did seem like the kind of guy who would hang out with Daryl. So, this was the new mysterious hire of Daryls. 

“Anyways.” Negan continued on. “Think you need this- just in case, you know, you want that tour of Italy.” 

“Very funny.” Carl rolled his eyes but reached out for his phone. “But thanks.” He said sincerely. 

Carl didn’t get up for a moment. He just felt like he needed to sit for a bit and collect his shit like he had been doing before Negan so conveniently interrupted his mental breakdown. To his surprise Negan sat down next to him. 

“You okay, kid?” 

Carl just nodded, and was suddenly annoyed at Negans concern. 

“You know, you should talk to someone about las-“

“I’m fine. Nothing happened ” Carl snapped at him. Nope. This conversation was not happening. And nothing did happen with Dan and Joe besides him getting his ass kicked. He was fine. 

“Alright, alright. Well. You gonna sit there all day and sulk?”

“Oh fuck off, I’m not sulking. I’m…waiting on someone.” 

“Yeah, already knew that.” Negan grinned at him. 

“Huh?” 

“Your little boyfriend- Ronald. Been talkin’ about you all day.” 

Carl thought his head was going to explode. This town was too fucking small. 

“Ron… told you we were together?” Carl narrowed his eyes at the man because he was fairly shocked. As far as he knew Ron had told no one about the two of them besides Enid and Alden. 

Negan let out a loud laugh. “Ohhhh shit. Kid. I was just giving you shit. But fuck, I mean if he’s actually your boyfriend-“

“No!” Carl almost screamed out. Carl wanted to die. There was a white SUV being driven by a soccer mom passing and he had the thought that jumping into its path seemed merciful. Death. Death by a Scentsy selling soccer mom was more merciful than this. Jesus take the wheel.  

“No, Ron and I aren’t- I have a girlfriend!” Carl said confidently, and he crossed his arms and just stared at the man who was grinning at him in an entirely obnoxious way. Negan shrugged. 

“Oh, yeah? What the fuck ever kid. You’re one confused little shit, you know that?” 

“What makes you say that?” Carl cocked his head and glared at him because there was no way that Negan knew-

“Cause you spent the entirety of last night basically undressing me with your eyes. I actually felt kinda violated . And then you wanted me to take you to Olive Garden.”

“I-wh- what? I wasn’t- What does that even mean?! And stop bringing Olive Garden into this! Don’t ruin it for me.” 

Negan just grinned at him and started to get up. 

“Oh yeah? You take your girlfriend there?”

“What girlfriend?” Carl asked, entirely confused, forgetting he had in fact made up said fake girlfriend approximately 3 seconds ago. 

Negan let out a loud laugh at that and realization dawned on Carl who suddenly felt like a complete idiot.

“Shit kid, you’re fun. You make this too easy. C’mon. Let’s go find your boyfriend.” 

***

An hour later found him and Ron navigating the obnoxious hospital parking garage, that had such narrow rows that you might as well submit an insurance claim for paint damage the second you entered the place. 

As they were walking in Ron laughed at his phone. 

“Negan wants to know what the least shitty thing is in the hospital cafeteria.” He told a very confused Carl. 

“Why would Negan be at the hospital?”

At first he panicked and thought maybe he’d imagined Ron saying the mans name, but no, he’d definitely unmistakably said Negan.

“His dying cancer wife, ‘member dipshit? She’s only been admitted for a few days and he’s on his way up as soon as he’s done at Daryls with that Triumph. Hasn’t had the fortune of being graced with their wonderful food.”

And then it hit Carl like a bus, but not just a bus traveling causally, no this was more like that bus in that Sandra Bullock movie that couldn’t drop below a certain level or else everyone would get blown up only that was his brain exploding.

How did he not connect the two? Ron had very clearly mentioned his new coworker and his dying cancer riddled wife yesterday, but that had just been before Carl was aware that said coworker was his new wet dream. 

Jesus Christ. What kind of fucked up asshole wants to fuck a guy whose wife is about to drop dead of cancer ? 

Clearly, he had read the signs all wrong. Clearly, he had been imagining that Negan had any interest in him besides just being friendly. Clearly, Negan was just seeking someone to just chat with to forget about his dying, almost dead, terminally ill wife. 

Jesus. Christ. On. A. Raft. 

“The pizza or that shitty chicken sandwich?” Ron’s voice cut through his thoughts suddenly. 

“What?” Carl asked him, extremely confused. 

“What’s better? You feeling okay? You’re spacey today.” 

“I…the chicken sandwich, the pizza tastes like a tire. And yeah, yeah- I’m fine.” 

He had a one way, do not pass go ticket to hell. 

Chapter Text

“Shit.” He heard Ron curse silently next to him, after about an hour into their hospital visit. He’s splayed out in a chair next to Rick, wondering if these visits are pointless. 

“What’s up?” Carl turns to him and Ron just shakes his head. “Gotta call my mom.” He groans out. 

“‘’M sorry, I’ll be back in a second.” Ron places a very uncharacteristic kiss on Carl’s forehead, and Carl’s left with just his dad and the rubber pizza for company. 

He pulls his knees up to his chest and curls up in the small hospital chair that has become his best friend over these past few months. It’s not the worst chair in the world, as Michonne had seen to it a few weeks ago for switching out the old metal one with this one that was a lot more suitable for someone who visits for hours and not minutes. 

He feels the familiar creep of anger come over him. He was always angry. To accompany that, guilt spread over him as an equal frequent companion, guilt over how could he be mad at his dad, and yet somehow he was. He always was. Maybe not at his dad always, but the anger was there, living below the surface. 

The air conditioner kicked on above him, and two old shitty helium foil balloons with “get well soon” courtesy of the station's booking officer bounced together and made him almost jump out of his seat. 

Stupid. Get well soon was for people who had the flu, not for people who were shot and never waking up from a fucking coma. Fuck these balloons he thought suddenly. 

He made his way out of his chair and stared them down. They had to go. No one was getting well soon here. Especially not these damn balloons. 

He viciously grabbed the first one, and realized he had absolutely nothing sharp to pop them with since this was a hospital after all and having any kind of pointy objects carried by non staff members was slightly frowned upon. 

So he sunk his canine into the seal of it, and when he felt the air rush out of the balloon and it make a small deflating noise he felt victorious. He grabbed the second one and repeated the same thing. He went to sit down again, only to realize that the first deflated balloon was fucking stuck to his foot, the string tangled around him somehow like it was fucking mocking him. 

“ Stupid fucking balloon in this piece of shit shitty ass fucking hospital.” He muttered out. 

“You alright man?” A voice spoke softly from the doorway. He looked up from his balloon sabotage and found none other than Ron and his wet dream, Negan, standing there, while he was making a complete ass out of himself. They both had their eyebrows raised and were staring at him with concerned expressions on their faces. Well, Ron looked more concerned, while Negans hinted more at amusement. 

“I- yeah!” Carl stuttered out. “I-balloons. They’re shit for the environment, you know?” 

“Uh huh.” Ron nodded slowly, unsure on how to answer that because he knew for a fact that Carl did not give a flying fuck about the environment. 

“If you’re busy waging war on these environmental hazards I can always head back across the hall to my wife.” Negan shrugged with a grin on his face. 

“I- no. No, all good here.” Carl said sheepishly as he grabbed the remainder of the balloons and threw them in the trash can. “Your- wife is across the hall?” Carl continued on, trying to regain some face. 

Negan nodded. “307. Small world, huh?”

Carl shrugged. “Small town. I’m- sorry about her. If you need anything. Well I practically live here some days. All the nurses are great though.” 

“Thanks kid. Sorry about your dad...” Negan looked over to Rick. 

“Rick.” He supplied his name, feeling a little dumb introducing them since obviously Rick wasn’t going to be striking up any conversation lately, but it felt impolite not to. 

“Sucks. Lot of people have talked about him since I got to town. Sounds like he’s a really good guy.”

“Oh. Yeah… yeah he was.” 

He doesn’t miss that Ron and Negan steal a glance, but he’s glad neither of them hit him with “ don’t talk about him in the past, he can still wake up.” 

He knows Rons past that kind of talk, but he’s grateful that Negan doesn’t feel the need to feed him that kind of bullshit. 

“Carl, my mom needs me to pick up Sam, because my dad…can’t.” Ron and him lock eyes and have a silent conversation. He knows Ron doesn’t want to tell him that my dads passed out somewhere and can’t pick up my ten year old brother in front of Negan. 

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. I- uh.” Carl looks to his dad. Strangely, he finds he doesn’t want to go home yet. He doesn’t have to be home yet, either, not for another two hours. But since Ron had driven him, that left him with no car here. “I’ll find a ride, it’s fine.” 

“I can take you.” Negan supplies casually, in an air that says that it’s absolutely no problem to give him a ride. 

“Oh- you don’t have to do that.” Carl says dumbly. Not wanting to impose but also not wanting to make more of an ass out of himself around Negan as he seemed to always do. 

“Suit yourself.” Negan shrugs. “Offers there if you wanna take it.” 

It’s there that he decides he really does like Negan. The man doesn’t push people, doesn’t coddle, doesn’t have time for bullshit frivolities like everyone else in his life who fret over him and his poor family. 

“Text me later, okay?” Ron looks to him and Carl just nods. It’s an awkward goodbye, because he knows Ron’s leaving a lot unsaid due to Negans presence. And it’s not as if it’s Ron’s doing, really- they just haven’t had this conversation yet. With everything else going on in their lives they weren’t about to complicate it with setting standards for how they were to act around other people. For anyone with half a brain, however, it was fairly obvious what was going on between the two of them. 

Ron’s departure leaves just him and Negan and comatose Rick. 

“Fucking sucks, right?” 

Carl just looks at him with a questioning glance. 

“Just. This. When people just up and die suddenly on you that’s one thing, but it’s a whole ‘nother thing to just watch them wither away slowly. Nothing you can do about it. It fucking sucks.” 

“How long has she been sick?” Carl asks him quietly. 

“Just about 4 months. It hit her pretty fast. All people wanna do though is feed you bullshit. It makes them uncomfortable, you know, so they say whatever dumb shit comes to their mind to placate you, ya know?”

Carl nods because yes, he does. Negan is a breath of fresh hair. Finally. He opens his mouth as if to say something but nothing comes out. He settles on a mumbled out “It’s bullshit.” 

“Don’t worry kid. I’ve waged war on a few ‘get well soon’ balloons too in the past few months. Your secret's safe with me.” 

Carl laughs and realizes it’s a genuine laugh for the first time in awhile. 

“You sure you don’t want that ride?” Negan questions again. 

“I - actually. Yeah sure, I’ll take it.” 

“Good.” Negan smiles a toothy grin at him and dammit Carl shouldn’t be as attracted to a man whose wife is dying of cancer but it didn’t hurt anyone to just think about him, right? “When you’re good to go just come across the hall. 307. I’m not in a rush to get outta here but there is a beer at home with my name on it.” 

“No Aldens tonight?” Carl asks with a grin. 

“Nah. My favorite bartender isn’t there.” Negan winks at him and walks out, and Carl is left a little stunned. 

Had Negan just said that? Had Negan just winked at him? With his dying wife across the hallway? What . 

Carl physically shook his head because maybe he was just overthinking it. As always. Negan was just being friendly. Right? 

Carl turned his attention back to his dad, who should be the immediate issue at hand here and not pondering whether a married man who was older than said dad was flirting with him or not. 

No sooner than a minute later he heard a small knock on the door, and a smiling nurse entered. Thank god. Michonne. Finally, some normalcy here. 

“Hey you.” The woman says softly, smiling at him, pushing her normal cart. 

“Hey ‘chonne.” He relaxes immediately at her presence. She’d become something of a second mother to him over the months that his dad had been here. 

Her expression changes immediately as soon as she sees her face. 

“ Carl what in the world happened to you?!” She yells at him. 

He grins sheepishly at her. “Bear attack? Walked into a door?”’

Michonne just cocks her head at him and huffs in very Michonne- like fashion.

“I got into a fight at work.” He says finally, flatly, giving up the act. 

“Hmhmm.” She hums out. “Did the Anderson boy that you’ve been hanging out with get into a fight at work too ?”

“Ron?” 

“Yes, Ron. Saw him on the way out and he looked almost as bad as you.”

“Okay, I know it seems like too much of a coincidence but... it is a coincidence. I did get into a fight at work. And Ron, well…”

“It’s no mystery what’s going on with him, Carl.” She says quietly. 

Carl lifts his eyebrows, questioning her.

“People talk, you know. Dr. Anderson is a surgeon here. Your ‘work fight’ didn’t happen to be with him, right?”

“No! God no. Really Michonne, it's nothing. I’m okay. And this really was from work. From two assholes my dad arrested a while back.” 

She tsks at him, and walks over to him, putting a hand on his healing face and checking the wound more closely. “You should have called me last night. You know you can. That probably needed stitches and now it’s going to scar.” 

Carl shrugs. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

“Your dad better wake up soon and set your ass straight. Starting to get into trouble.” 

“ I didn't make the trouble.” 

Michonne backs off suddenly, sensing that she’s hitting a nerve. The rest of her visit goes quietly, and they chat for a moment before she heads off into the next room. He promises to come by Saturday when she’s on during the day. 

A few minutes later he decides he’s put off going home long enough, and he heads across the hall, and timidly looks for room 307. He was still feeling unsure about potentially interrupting Negan and his wife even though he had very clearly offered him the ride. 

He finds it quickly, as it’s just three doors down and across the way, and knocks lightly. It only seems proper, despite the fact that any sense of privacy is a total farce in any hospital. 

“Yeah?” He hears Negans voice from the room and he enters slowly. Negans leaned back in his chair to see who it is, and he grins a little when he realizes it’s Carl. 

“Wow, finally made the long trek over.” He quips at Carl, who wants to roll his eyes but decides against it.

“Carl, this is my lovely wife, Lucille.” He almost sings out. 

Lucille is many things, he realizes, with just one glance at her. She may be riddled with cancer, but she was nothing short of fucking fierce. She was beautiful, even sitting in a hospital bed clad in one of those horrific gowns. She was bald, but it didn’t take away from her beauty- if anything it just accentuated it. It only took him a moment to realize just why her and Negan were together. 

“Hear your dad and I are neighbors.” She says with a smug almost-grin. 

He nods and returns a soft smile. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.” 

“Not so bad here." She shrugs. "You know your nurses are a lot nicer than the ones from back home.” 

“They’re great, aren’t they?” He laughs. “Michonne, she’s usually a night nurse, she’s the best.” 

“I’ve met her. She’s sweet. The hospital food, though- that sure does leave a lot to be desired.” She laughs. 

“You barely even eat anything anyways.” Negan chimes in from his chair.  

“Maybe I’d eat more if it wasn’t so awful.” She retorts back. 

Carl, of course, absolutely agrees with her. “It is awful.”

“And mister-holier-than-art-thou refuses to bring me food from the outside world.” She goads him, folding her arms. 

“It’ll interfere with your treatment. I’m not bringing you contraband!” Negan exclaims, his hands going up in the air.  

“It’s not like I’m asking for cigarettes, I’m literally asking for a decent slice of pepperoni pizza.” Lucille huffs (and Carl kind of had to agree with her, again). 

“Does Negan know you from school?” Lucille asks him lightly. 

“I-“ Carl stopped and thought carefully about his next words. School? What? “Yes?” He answers with only a hint of a question because for some reason he feels like it’s the right answer. He feels like saying no we met at the bar while he was basically hitting on me sounds like the very wrong answer. 

“Yeah he’s about the only kid in his class who I don’t want to punch in the face.” Negan replies smoothly. Like he was used to lying. Because he probably was. 

“Uh huh.” Lucille says a little too lightly and Carl knows he’s probably blown whatever cover Negans been hiding behind but like c’mon, one can warn a man. 

****

“Thanks kid.” Negan says as soon as they are down the hall. 

“Yeah. Uh. School ?” Carl is confused about the whole thing. 

Negan stops and looks at him. “I’m a - uh. High school gym teacher. Or was. In a past life.” 

Carl doesn’t say anything but that’s because he doesn’t have to, because his face has done the talking for him. 

“Shut it.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” Carl retorts defensively.

“You didn’t have to. But. Okay hear me out. Lucille has family here so this is where we should be. She should be with her family. Her parents just died recently but she’s got a sister here and it’s just better for her to be here. But she didn’t want to come unless I got a teaching job here. Says it’s good for me and keeps me in line, which maybe it does. Well I didn’t exactly get a teaching job- I, uh, you know-”

“Got a job at Daryls?” 

“Well, yeah. I know Daryl from aways back from when we used to come here to visit. So it all just worked out. And. I mean between you and me, listen, I know I should be by her side every single minute I’m not at work, but like, I can only take so much, you know? So no she wouldn’t be thrilled if I was at the bar-”

“I get it, Negan.” Carl says simply, because he does get it. Should Negan be by his dying wife’s side every single moment of every single day? Of course. Just like someone should be by his dads side even if he wasn’t awake. 

But that was fairytale shit and this was real fucking life. Life had to go on outside of those overly bleached sterile hospital walls. It had to. 

“You do?” He says, almost sheepishly. 

Carl nods. “Yeah. I do. Lucille seems smart though- so I don’t think it’s going to take long to figure out that you’re not teaching.” 

“Oh I know. I’m just biding my time until she confronts me. Can only wash so much grease off my hands before she puts it two and two together. Anyways- you ever ridden a bike before?” 

It seems like a silly question at first to Carl of course he’s ridden a bike before- he wasn’t 3 years old. And then it hit him that Negan had most definitely not come to the hospital in his car. 

Fuck. 

****

Three days later it’s Saturday and he finds himself at Glenn’s families pizza shop, dropping off money for Maggie because she had saved his ass once again and agreed to watch Judith when Alden needed coverage at the last minute last night. 

It’s when he’s scarfing down a slice of their delicious ass piece before he heads out that a lightbulb goes off in his head, and he asks Glenn for 2 extra slices and shoves them in a napkin which he knows he’ll have to hide once he gets to the hospital. 

When he arrives he doesn’t head for Ricks room first. He goes to 307. He knocks lightly, hoping against hope that it’s just Lucille in there and Negan is still home, probably nursing a hangover.

He hears a small “yes?” from the room and makes his way in. He wasn’t sure who Lucille had been expecting but it most definitely wasn’t him, especially judging by her expression. 

Her eyes go up into her head and she studies him for a moment. 

“Well, hi.” She says softly. It’s welcoming, but a little surprised. 

“How’s this shit hole treating you today?” It was a gamble. He wasn’t sure if she’d admonish him for his language, or play along. If she was anything like him, though, she was sick of people sugarcoating everything. 

She sits up, and smiles genuinely at him. “As you’d expect. If I was gonna die, you’d think they’d just let me die in peace instead of poking at me every half hour.”

Carl nods, because although he doesn’t understand, he kind of does. “I uh- I’m here to see my dad, but I brought something for you- but uh. You can’t tell Negan.” 

She perks up a little at that. “Alright Carl. Game on. Don’t worry, I’m just as good as keeping secrets from him as he is from me.” And she winks. And yep, Carl knows that she knows . 

“One of my good friends owns the best pizza shop in town…” He starts. 

Her face lights up. “ You fucking didn’t. ” She whisper-yells out, sitting up excitedly. 

“I did.” He says with a smile as he takes the pizza out. 

“Alright. Maybe I should give you more credit. You’re not so bad.” 

Carl doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t pry as to why Lucille would think he’s bad at all except for maybe she knows her husband met him at a bar. 

“This-” she says with a huge smirk, after her first bite- “this is a game changer. Chemo, I mean that shit leaves you with literally no appetite at all. . So, the one time I have a craving, and actually feel like eating something, should I really be denied that?” She asks him almost gleefully. “They should just be happy that I want to eat anything at all.” 

“Well dig in.” He says, handing her the pizza clad napkins. 

“So.” Lucile says, after 3 bites more of pizza- which is quite a lot for her. “I need you to answer me something.” She puts her pizza down and looks at him. 

Carl shifts uncomfortably in his seat next to her bed, because he knows what’s coming. He was going to have to lie about the bar, lie about the fact that Negan wasn’t his teach-

“I see the way Negan looks at you. Is my husband fucking you?” 

Okay. Well. Maybe he hadn’t seen that one coming.

Chapter Text

“What’s up trailer trash?”

Carls now been bringing Lucille contraband for 3 weeks. They’ve come to an agreement over those 3 weeks. Carl can spill his drama to her,  she can spill her drama to him, and things can continue along copacetically as long as he continues to bring her food from the outside world- and as an added bonus she’s allowed to dish out unlimited insults. Because she’s dying. And he agrees, because he feels it’s only fair. She is dying after all. 

Lucille is infinitely better company than his dad (no offense to Rick, but, well). It gets him out of the house and he still feels like he’s doing his due diligence to his dad since he’s right across the hall. It’s a total win win. 

“I told you to stop calling me that.” He banters back. 

“And I told you to stop staring at my husbands ass.” 

“I do no such thing.  I’ll take this pizza away.” He threatens, in a very non-threatening voice. 

“Awe c’mon Carl!” She laments. “Give a bitch a break.” 

Since their first pizza meeting, when Lucille had straight up asked him casually if he was banging her husband (the answer was a panicked, resounding no!, which she laughed at and then dubbed Carl a home wrecker and trailer trash from that moment on), their friendship had grown exponentially. He found himself there more often than not, with her quizzing him on stupid shit like a calculus or biology question. 

She takes the first bite of pizza from Glenn’s and it’s delicious, as it always is. 

“So…” She starts, and looks at him expectantly. 

“So, what ?” He deadpans back over his textbook, as if he has no idea what she’s talking about- but he of course does. 

“You didn’t do it yet??” She sighs out, although she had already known the answer. 

“I mean. No. I…thought about it though. Moreso, this week than last? So- I’m making progress?” 

“ Carl.” She says firmly. 

“It’s the holiday season.” He says finally with a shrug, as he grabs a slice of pizza, settling himself back in his normal chair next to her bed. “Maybe I don’t wanna be alone!” He sobs out in an overly dramatic, false voice. 

“Well maybe I don’t wanna be six feet under before Christmas, but we don’t all get what we want Carl. I could do it, you know. Find Dr. Anderson in the directory and I’ll just tell him Ron knocked you up. Then you’ll be single.”

Carl chokes on his pizza and throws the rest of it down to the box, laughing. 

“You just want me all to yourself.” 

“Yeah, I do, I’m fuckin’ bored! I'm about to go strangle myself with some of that tinsel and just call it damn day. Get it over with already!" 

Christmas is approaching and the hallways are full of garland and red bows and at each nurses station there’s a cheap Santa clause, like that’ll soften the blow of being in this absolute hell hole of a place. 

“You have 3 days.” She says firmly, when he says nothing back. 

“Or…?” 

“Or I’ll make that call to Dr. Anderson and it’ll be game over.” 

“You wouldn’t dare. You’d be cut off from pizza.” 

“Well now you’re just playing dirty.” 

Lucille’s been urging him, for the last 2 weeks, to break things off with Ron. Things hadn’t been going...well…between them. Maybe it was the stress of everything combined- more work at Daryls for Ron, more work at Carl and school finals, the ever looming thought of Rick up and dying, things at home- but things had come to a bit of a boiling point with them. It had been like this before, just not as bad. On past occasions it somehow always resulted up in a rather ugly fight and then that anger just turned into rather rough (but mind blowing) sex, and they soon would be back together before Carl even knew what was happening. But now, at Lucilles urging, he was considering breaking it off for good. 

Lucille had been in a mood all day though, and he didn't want to test her further especially with his Ron drama.  He’s aware that Jeanine is coming today. The Jeanine . The Jeanine who was Lucille’s best friend. Until she slept with her husband. Despite the fact that Lucille was well aware of everything, Jeanine and Negan remained none the wiser that Lucille knew. 

Carl has to give Lucille props for not wanting to run Jeanine over with her car. Or Negan, for that matter. She’d told Carl basically everything, as far as he knew. How she’d been oblivious to Negans cheating until she found out about on the very same day she found out she had cancer. How she found out, sitting in the parking lot of that hospital. It had to have been a soul crushing thing. To lose your husband and best friend in one fell swoop. The earth must have physically stopped moving beneath her feet. And to have cancer on top of it. Carl only thought weird, unfortunate shit happened like that to him. Maybe that's why the two of them got along so well- they were just a big series of unfortunate events.

To Negans credit, as far as Lucille knew he had broken things off with Jeanine immediately. It didn’t exactly make him a hero, but he had been by her side almost every possible second since then. He was trying, and that had to count for something. 

Jeanine played the roll of supportive best friend. Or maybe she was just supporting her so much out of guilt. Regardless, her  trip was due to the approaching holiday, and also because Lucille was now having surgery next week. It was a last ditch effort, something that could give her an extra 9 to 12 months that potentially could be spent outside of the hospital or hospice. Her body was weak though, so it could potentially go south, but Lucille told everyone she didn’t give a rats ass if she died at this point so it was worth the gamble. 

Things at Daryl’s shop had been busy, and Negan, Ron and Daryl were working tens or twelves almost daily. Negan still came up almost every night to see her.  The man was pretty oblivious that Carl had been sneaking her contraband pizza, but he was aware that Carl hung out there on a regular basis and he was over the moon about it. He knew Lucille needed someone. 

There was a sudden knock, and Carl dive bombed across the bed and grabbed the pizza that had been sitting on Lucilles lap. His reflexes were now trained to snatch the pizza away from her like it was a fucking grenade.

A woman Lucilles age walked in carrying balloons. Get Well Balloons. Fucking get well balloons. Carl felt his eyes roll back in his head. He was judging this woman. He was judging big time. She was Lucilles age, plain, and Lucille had her beat in the looks department by about 900 points even with a bald head and a hospital food diet. He internally shook his head at Negan- what had that idiot been thinking? 

"Hey you!" Jeanine squeals out. Carl think her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard. 

"Hi Jeanine." Lucille drawls out kindly. "How was your flight?'

"Oh, atrocious. You know, sat next to a one year old who should have a leash, but you know all about that! Where's that husband of yours? Cant be bothered to skip out on work to sit with you a little bit?"

Carl and Lucille lock eyes and almost start laughing. This woman is vile, he decides. She's a pure evil, conniving bitch. 

"Oh, he's around Jeanine.  This is Carl." She nods to Carl is his chair, who Jeanine has straight up ignored. "He has family here in the hospital, so he's been keeping me company." 

"Nice to meet you Carl." She responds cordially. "Sorry to hear about your family- not the place you want to be, especially around the holidays." 

“Oh well, thanks. It's alright. My dads across the hall. He’s the sheriff. I mean, he was, til he got shot and now he’s in a coma.” He says it rather nonchalantly, like it's no big deal, and he knows it's more than Jeanine asked and knows she's uncomfortable- and he loves every second of it. Jeanine’s face twists in concern. 

“Oh. I’m- I’m so sorry to hear that.” She says awkwardly. Good. Carls intentionally making things awkward. 

“Ah, not really a big deal. I mean, wouldn’t be so bad if my mom hadn’t of gotten knocked up by my dads partner, and now I’m helping raise my newborn sister. Like, gotta be pretty low to sleep with someone’s married best friend, ya know? Anyways, I gotta go. Bye Jeanine, it was really nice meeting you!” 

From behind Jeanine Lucille is silently shaking with laughter, and trying to keep a straight face.

His duty was done here. 

***

“Those- those literally look like car headlights, Enid. They’re awful.” 

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, it’s what Alden wanted.” 

Carl was in utter shock at the brightness of the Christmas lights Enid had been struggling with for the last thirty minutes. He’d offered to help her hang them about four times, but she was being stubborn and so Carl just watched in amusement as she fought with them, as well as all the atrociously guady decor that was popping up around the bar. Carl didn’t exactly consider himself an interior decorator, but he knew that the bar was decorated in a way that was enough to almost scare people away. It looked like an elf just vomited lights and Christmas tree greenery everywhere. 

“Well Alden doesn’t have to be blinded by them every time he looks anywhere but at the ground.” 

“You can put a complaint in the complaint box then, Carl. Which is up your ass, okay?” Enid was in rare form. 

“Jesus, I didn’t know this was such a touchy subject. It’s just Christmas lights, E.”

“Yeah, and Alden and I have been fighting over these fucking lights for a week! And I agree with you. But. Well. I’m gonna go and buy another damn wreath or something so this place doesn’t look like the circus. Can you hold down things here?” 

The bar absolutely did not need another wreathe, but Carl was a little afraid of Enid at that particular moment so he's glad she's leaving. He looks around to the empty bar. “I mean…I may not be able to handle the rush, but I'll try. I’ll really try.”

“Fuckin’ jackass. I’ll be back.”

***

Carls been trying to read the same line of his biology textbook for the past 10 minutes, but the words just aren’t going together. He’ll read the same two lines, and then by the third he’s spaced off and thinking of something else, only to realize what he’s done and come back for the 82nd time. He’s so immersed that he doesn’t realize that someones finally walked in. 

“Hey, kid.”  Carls head pops up, and is met with none other than Negans stupid, attractive face. The man is taking a seat at the bar right in front of him.  

“Shit, hey. I didn’t even hear you come in. Off early?” He says, perking up a little bit at the man’s presence. “And…Jack and coke?”

“Daryl sent us home. Says we need a break. And I was gonna just grab a beer before I head into that hell hole, but if you’re offering…” Carl knows he’s just gotten off work, and he’s headed to the hospital after this. 

“Nope. You should probably stick with the beer.” 

“Glad I have you to guide me in my erroneous ways.” 

“Of course. I’m not just a bartender, I’m also here to help you not further fuck up your marriage.” 

“‘Ppreciate that. I need some more pointers in that department, actually. By the way. What’s up with all of…?” Negan trails off and just does a hand motion at the bright ass lights that now fill the otherwise divey bar. 

“Don’t fucking ask.”

“It’s like Santa Clause did some fucking meth and bought a lightbulb factory.” 

Negans description is quite accurate but Carl just rolls his eyes at him and grabs a glass. 

“By the way..." Carl starts off slowly. "I never really thanked you again for that…extra cash you left Enid and I that night. So thanks. Was able to actually buy stuff for my sister and mom for Christmas. They deserve it, so.” He shrugs, handing Negan his beer. 

“Don’t mention it kid. I’ve been in your shoes. Swear I wasn’t tryin’ to listen, but I overheard you talking about your mom, and, all I’m saying is I’ve been there- kind of. It sucks. My mom was a drinker. I know a thing or two about tryin’ to keep shit together when everything around you is fallin’ apart. And it's not something you should be worried about at your age. You should be out drinkin’ with your friends, getting busted for pot or somethin’ like that, not worried about paying bills. Too young for all that shit. Believe me, you have the rest of your life to worry about the damn electric bill.” 

Carls quiet for a moment, just considering Negans words. 

“I don’t…mind it. Most of the time. I’m just…it’s hard not knowing if my dad is going to wake up or not. Like if I knew, one way or the other, that’d be fine. I could deal with it- either way. But. I don’t know. I’m probably not making sense.”

“Absolutely makes sense. Lucille- she’s gonna die. I know that. But at least I know. And that’s probably why I can’t stop working. And that’s why I’m here. Avoiding the…inevitable. I know I’m on borrowed time with her, and you’d think that would mean that I’d want to spend every second possible there, I know that, I just…it’s almost worse when I’m with her. Makes me a total piece of shit, right? Sittin’ here, drinking and talkin’ to you about my sorry ass life?” 

Carl shakes his head. “No. I get it. I do. There’s no… guidebook on how to do this. You don’t think shit like this would happen to you, until it does.” 

“Fuckin’ cheers to that kid.” 

Carls been leaning slightly over the bar, and he hadn’t even been aware of it. But he’s suddenly very aware of the distance between them- or, lack-of. He looks at Negan, Negan looks at him and Carls suddenly frozen and he’s not sure why. 

One of Enids stupid LED light strands falls, and Carl jumps at the loud crash. 

"North Pole is fallin' down around us." Negan chuckles out. 

"If I get killed by a rogue falling Santa I won't even complain. There's worse ways to go out." 

"Hazard of the job." Negan pauses for a minute and looks down thoughtfully at his beer." You know, if you want, when I’m at the hospital, I can stop by your dads room for a second.” 

“I-” Carl falters a little, because really it’s a straight up waste of time. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not like he knows you're there.” 

“I know I don’t have to. But I’d like to. Would you feel better if I did? If someone stopped to see him today?” 

Carl doesn't really even think about it. He just nods, before he can lie.

They fall into a nice silence, and Negan watches the game on TV while Carl studies. It's nice, Carl thinks. Negans not pushing him to talk about his shitty life, or questioning him about his decisions. He can just be.  A few minutes later Negan throws a twenty down for his single beer, and before Carl can even move to get him change Negan waves a hand dismissively at him. “All yours, kid.” 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Carl blurts it out, before he even realizes he’s saying it. Negans eyebrows raise slightly and he just studies him for a moment. 

“Didn’t know I needed a reason to be nice to someone.” 

“I mean- it's just.” Carl stumbles out awkwardly, and then just shrugs. “No one’s nice to anyone for no reason.” 

“Like I said kid. I’ve been in your shoes. Wish someone had been there for me when I needed it.” 

Negan leaves not long after, leaving Carl slightly confused in his mess of Christmas light vomit. 

***

Four hours later he finally makes his way home. He’s exhausted, but luckily he had finished all his calc homework at the bar and so he can fall into bed until Judith woke up. 

He walks in, throws his keys down, and the very first thing he sees is Shane. Sitting in his living room. Drinking a beer. In his dads chair. None of this is okay, but the fact that he’s in Ricks chair is what really sets him off. The TV is so loud and Shane has his back to him that he doesn’t even hear him come in. He stomps off to the kitchen, to where it sounds like his mom is doing dishes. 

“What’s Shane doing here?” He asks, his tone full of obvious annoyance. He’s not trying to hide it at this point. 

She turns around to face him, and she looks about as exhausted as he feels.

"He was just here for dinner. Is that a problem?" 

"Yeah. It is." 

“Carl- can you spare me the attitude? It’s been a long day.” Lori's hand is on her hip, and he knows she's mad, knows she's exhausted, but so is he. 

“It’s always a long day. You know- he’s not even dead, yet, mom.” 

He doesn’t know why he says it. Only that he does, and he doesn’t regret it. 

He sees his moms face display a wide array of emotions in the matter of a second, and he absolutely knows what’s next and he can’t help but think that he deserves it. 

She smacks him, hard, and after that he doesn’t even look her in the eye. 

“You watch how you talk to me under my own roof, Carl.” 

“Get me a beer, will you Lor!?” Shane suddenly yells from the living room. And just like at the bar, Carl sees red. It’s almost like an out of body experience, like he has no control over himself. 

“Carl don’t you-” because Lori knows what Carl's about to do. 

He heads for the living room, and stands in front of a very surprised Shane. 

“ ‘Lor isn’t going to get you a beer Shane. She’s tired and trying to hold her shit together. You can get off your ass and out of your best friend's chair and get your own damn beer. Or better yet, leave , and stop fucking your best friends wife before he’s even dead.” 

Shane doesn’t give any warning. He flies out of his chair (well, Ricks chair) before Carl even knows what’s happening. Shane rushes at him, and picks him up fully by the neck. He slams him into the wall behind him, pinning him down with his full weight on his neck. Carl hears a crack as his head hits something and it’s not the wall, but a framed picture of them from Carls seventh birthday that had been hanging, one he knows well. His head is suddenly ringing, and a wave of dizziness comes over him but Shane is right up in his face and he’s trying to make out what he’s saying. 

“I said what did you say to me boy?! Answer me!” Shane barks at him. 

There’s a sharp pain in the back of his head and he knows it’s probably glass. His head is swimming. 

“ Fuck you.” Is all Carl can manage to hiss out. Shane’s hands press into his neck, cutting off his air completely.

“You better learn how to treat me with respect. You don’t talk out of line ever again, you hear me? We raised you better than this!”

We? Is all Carl can think. We? 

Carl can hear Lori yelling at him to stop from somewhere. 

He can’t breathe and alarm bells are starting to go off in his head. So he starts to kick and grab at Shane as best as he can but the man vastly outweighs him and Carls effectively pinned with no chance. The seconds continue to tick by and he feels panicked. But still Shane doesn’t let up. It continues on, and Carl was sure he would have let go by now. Things are starting to glaze over, and he doesn’t know what way is up. He wants air, he needs air-

“Shane! Enough, you’re going to kill him!” His moms panicked voice cuts through. 

Shane releases him finally but he’s not expecting it, and he falls to the floor in a heap, gasping for air. 

He looks up at Shane with a murderous glare before he stands up, very disoriented. 

“Carl…” his mom says weakly behind Shane. “Oh baby-“ 

Carl doesn’t have any sympathy left for either of them in the moment though. He stumbles up, and all he knows is that he has to get out of here. 

He hears Judith crying from upstairs- they’ve woken her up. And momentarily he considers staying because he doesn’t want to leave her in this mess. Not with Shane. But he has to get out of here. 

The walk outside is disorienting but when the cold air hits him he almost feels better as it wakes him up a little. He starts to walk down the sidewalk, unsure of where he’s going. He doesn't have his keys, and he's not going back in to get them. 

“Carl!” He hears his mom yell from behind him. He turns around and stares at her. She had followed him out of the house,  and she’s clearly crying. “Carl, oh baby, I'm so sorry.” She says softly. 

He hates seeing his mom cry. Probably up there with the worst thing in the world. And again, he feels an overwhelming sense of duty suddenly to not leave his sister and mom with Shane. But he doesn’t think he can physically walk back in that house. 

“I’m fine mom. I just need to go somewhere that's...not here. Don’t leave him with Judith. Please.” 

So he turns around and walks, and he’s not sure at all where he’s going. He walks to the corner, and then pulls his phone out. His hand is shaking, probably from all the adrenaline.  

He calls Ron twice, but there’s no answer. His head is really starting to hurt, and he sits down on the pavement. He considers Enid and Alden for a moment, but he doesn’t know if he can deal with her barrage of questions and also doesn’t want to bring his employer into this.  

He doesn’t know why, but Negan is the next name that comes to mind. Negans an adult. He’ll know what to do, right? He never saved the mans number, so he scrolls down until he reaches their text conversation from that night. He doubts he’ll even pick up, but it’s worth a shot. Part of him doesn't want the man to pick up. Doesn't want to drag him into this.

But Negan does. He picks up on the 2nd ring.

Chapter Text

“Carl?” The voice on the other line asks, confused. He ignores the fact that Negan must have his number saved- that’s surprising- and is just grateful he picked up. 

“Hey.” He says lamely. “I uh- I’m sorry to bother you.” He stumbles out. 

“You’re not bothering me. What’s wrong?” 

“I-” God this was going to sound so dumb. Like Negan had time for his teenage drama. I got into a fight with the guy my mom is sleeping with because I can’t keep my mouth shut? Is that what he was supposed to say? 

“Carl?” Negan asks again. He hears a shuffling and there’s another voice. 

“Carl, honey, what’s wrong? Talk to us.” It’s Lucille. Carl hadn’t even thought that Negan might be at the hospital still and he feels guilty for calling suddenly and interrupting. But the sound of her voice is nice and soothing and motherly, and something he wishes he had heard more of from his own mom. 

“The guy- the guy my moms sleeping with, we got into- a fight. And it got kind of bad. I’m just. I feel kind of dizzy, and I didn’t know who to call and I’m sorry.”

“Are you hurt?” Lucille asks softly.

He shrugs, and then realizes obviously she can’t see him. “I don’t…know? He pushed me into a picture frame and I think- I might have glass in my head? I’m just- my head hurts. I’m sorry.” He repeats. “I just didn’t know who to call-”

“Carl stop.” It's Negan again. “Send me your location. Lucille is going to call you on her phone. She’s going to talk to you until I find you, okay? Be sure you pick up when she calls and you stay there, okay?”  

“Okay.” He says, in a very small voice. “Okay. Thanks.” 

He hears the line disconnect and he fumbles around on his phone to send Negan his location. No sooner had he sent it than a number is calling him that he doesn’t recognize and he knows it’s Lucille. 

“Hey trailer trash.” She says, and he can almost hear her smiling. 

“Hi.” He says quietly, sniffling a little. It’s cold, and he reaches a hand to his hair, to the back of his head where he felt a sharp pain as soon as Shane shoved him into the glass. He pulls his hand back and there’s a small bit of blood, but not a crazy amount. The sight of it though makes him feel dizzier, and he’d felt a very sharp pain when he’d pressed in. He was pretty sure he had been right about having glass in his head. 

“Negans on his way. He left right away. You think you can talk to me while he drives to you?” Lucille continues on. 

“Oh god, I don’t have to ride that stupid motorcycle of his do I?” Carl laughs. 

“No idiot, it’s winter. He has his truck.” He smiles at the fact that Lucille still feels comfortable enough to insult him even if he’s currently sitting on the side of the road bleeding. 

“You would have made a good mom, Lucille.” 

“Awe, Carl. Don’t get all sappy on me now.” She says, but he can hear her voice has changed. 

“I know, I know. That’s like rule number one with us, right?” 

“Absolutely.”

“How’s your head?” She asks, again in that tone that seemed to put him immediately at ease. 

“Hurts like a bitch.” He replies honestly. 

“You pass out on me I’ll come kill you myself. You keep talking to me until Negan gets there, okay?” 

“Kay. So I have a question.” Because changing the subject from his own demise is his speciality. 

“Shoot. I’m an open book. You know that.” 

“Jeanine…Like what’s up with that ? I mean. You’re so much prettier.”

He hears a loud laugh from Lucille. 

“I always thought so myself. But thanks Carl. Tell Negan that.”

“I will. He’s such a jackass.”

“Well that we can agree on.” She goes quiet for a moment. “Carl?” She asks suddenly. 

“Wha?” Carl had almost been nodding off for a second, and he catches himself. He feels dazed. 

“Watch out for him after I leave, okay?”

“What - what do you mean?” Carl stutters out. 

“You’ll know. I promise?” 

“Okay.” He says very softly. 

“Tell me about Judith.” He's so grateful for her in that moment because he wants to talk about anything other than the situation at hand. So he talks about his sister, talks about the small stupid shit that she does that never fails to put a smile on his face. It distracts him from the cold, even if just momentarily. It’s not long before Negans calling him. 

“Negans almost here, I think? He’s calling.”

“If he’s not you call right back.” He hears actual real concern in her voice and once again doesn’t feel like he deserves her kindness. 

“Okay. Thanks again. You guys are- I’m glad I met you guys.” 

“We are too, Carl.” 

Negan is close to finding him, it turns out. It's less than a minute the man pulls up next to him, all huddled and miserable on the sidewalk. He jumps out of his truck immediately and goes to him. “Shit, C’mere kid, you look like death.” 

“I’m okay.” Carl mumbles out. Negan’s already taken off his jacket and puts it around Carl's shoulders. Normally Carl would protest, but he doesn’t even care to in the moment. 

“Fuckin’ freezin out here, get in.” 

Carl climbs in the front seat. Negan looks at him as soon as he’s in the car, putting the heat on full blast. 

“Shit. What the fuck happened to you?”

Carl just shakes his head. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Negan looks over at him, checking him for any obvious signs that he’s hurt. 

“Look you don’t have to tell me why the fuck you all were fighting or any of that shit, but I need to know where you’re hurt. And if I need to take you to hospital.”

“No! No, I’m okay. It’s just my head.” His hand goes to the back of his head and when he pulls it away he notices more blood, only there’s a little less than last time. “It’s slowing down, I’m fine.”

“That’s the only place you're hurt?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” He’s not going into details like that he almost was choked to death but a man he had once considered family. 

“You sure?” Negan presses. 

“ Yes Negan.” He snaps, and then immediately regrets it. “I’m sorry. I’m just. I feel dizzy.”

“Yeah I bet you do. Look- we really should get you to the hospital.”

“I’m fine. Please. I spend enough time there. I just…I want to go sleep. Somewhere. And forget this happened.” 

“Where do you want me to take you?”

“Oh- I. I don’t kn-“

“Can I take you to my house? That okay?” Negan asks before he can even fumble out an awkward answer. 

Carl just nods, and he’s suddenly so grateful for him. He doesn’t have to fumble around and make excuses for why he needs Negan to take him to his house. Negan just understands. 

“Good. You’ll have to sleep with Lucile’s cats. They're annoying as shit. By the way, text her. She’s worried sick about you.”

They’re driving finally, and Carl quickly texts Lucille and thanks her, and then puts his phone down because the light is making his head hurt. He realizes just how much his throat and collarbone hurt now that the adrenaline is wearing off. 

He’s thinking suddenly again of Shane. He had been pretty certain he was going to die in those few minutes. Shane would not let up. He had never felt more helpless, or panicked or-

“Hey, Carl? You good?” Negans hand is on his knee and he almost jumps out of his seat. The man quickly withdraws it and apologizes.

“It’s - it’s okay. Sorry. I just drifted off for a second.”

“Yeah well, you keep drifting off with a head injury and it’s a straight ticket to UH and I’m not taking no for an answer.” 

“I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m fine.” He says again, almost robotically. 

“Whatever you say kid.”

They fall into silence and Carl vaguely wonders where they live. He’s tired, now that everything is wearing off, and a sense of dread has fallen over him. 

Home. His safe spot. That had now been taken from him too. 

“Does it get better?” He asked Negan as he continued to look out the window. 

“What?“ Negan asked him, confused. 

Carl turns towards him. “You said you’d been in my shoes before. Does it get better? Or is this just…is this it? Is this just how life is once you’re an adult? Just shitty? All the time?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, it does get better.” Negan says in a defeated tone. “Life isn’t supposed to be this hard. Not even when you’re an adult. But shit does get better. I promise you. You find your own family if the one you were born into doesn’t deserve you. And I can tell you right now, Carl, you deserve better.” 

They drive in silence from there on out until they finally pull into a quaint, but nice, house about 10 minutes from his own. He’d been to this street before, he’d had friends who lived around here. 

“You need help inside at all?” Negan asks.

Carl rolls his eyes. “My legs work just fine, but thanks.” 

“Fine. Don’t trip over Simon and Fat Joey. They’ll kill you.”

“Who-?” 

But as soon as Negan opens the door two extremely l arge cats that should have been put on a diet 7 years ago come running to the door to greet them, and Negan uses his feet to block their advances to get outside. 

“They’re like fucking dogs. Fat Joey, Imma boot your ass all the way to fucking Texas, move fatass.” 

“Is there a Skinny Joey?” Carl asks hesitantly. 

“There was.” 

Carl doesn’t question it further and finally makes his way into their house around the minefield of cats. 

He glances around at their home, and it’s pretty much what he had expected. Negan still has two boxes out in the living room that haven’t even been unpacked, since he’s been the only one who’s living here. It's essentially a bachelor pad at this point, with minimal furniture and almost zero personal effects. 

There is a small Christmas tree in the corner which he’s surprised about, because it doesn’t seem very like the man to go out and get a tree himself. It’s about the least depressing thing about the place. 

He suddenly hears Negan take a sharp breath and it draws his attention to him. 

“What?”

“What happened here?” He asks, and Carl realizes he’s staring at his neck. He suddenly shrinks under the gaze and he almost takes a step back. Any injury that Shane had inflicted upon him was probably on full display now that they were in the house and he hadn’t realized what Shane had done had left any mark. 

“I- nothing?” 

“Turn around.”  Negan says softly. Carl does, and there’s a hallway mirror and suddenly he’s looking at himself and he’s shocked. His whole neck is one large red mark, bruises already starting to form. He feels Negans hand on his shoulder, and he jumps a little, but the man doesn’t move and he’s glad. 

He sees Negan shake his head in the mirror, and Carl turns to face him.

“Look. You’re either going to have to let me take a look at you or we go to the hospital. I mean, I don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t want to do but- this is serious.” 

Carl nods, and swallows hard and winces, realizing it’s starting to hurt more as the shock is starting to wear off. 

“Yeah, I bet.” Negan says softly, understanding Carl's wince. “You’re gonna have to let me see.” 

Carl gives a little huff, but he knows there’s no point in fighting him. He attempts to take his hoodie off but the second he moves his shoulder over his head a pain rips through his arm and he yelps a little. 

“Hurt?” 

“What do you think?” Carl snaps at him. 

“Could have fractured your collarbone.”

“That’s a little extreme, don’t you think? It’s not that bad.” 

“Carl cut the shit. It’s just you and me here.” 

Carl shrugs, and just that little movement sends pain shooting through his shoulder. 

Negan doesn’t say anything and just looks at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“What about your head?” Negan goes behind him and runs his hand through his hair and Carl gasps when his hand hits something. 

“Fuck, kid, you do have a bit of glass in here. Alright. Hospital. Now.”

“No no no. It’s fine. It’s basically stopped bleeding.” Carl rushes out, too quickly. 

“Yeah, cause you have a piece of glass stopping it.”

“Is it even that big?”

“Okay, if you weren’t bleeding from your skull I’d make a highly inappropriate joke at that question. But this is kind of your brain we’re talking about here. I can’t even see anything with your goddamn mess of hair.” 

“Well then cut it, I don’t care. I’m not going though. I’m fine.” He continues to insist. 

“Why are you so against going to the hospital, Carl?” 

Carl chews his lip for a second. 

“Look. If I go they’re gonna ask questions. I don’t want to get…I don’t want to piss Shane off even more. He could hurt my mom or my sister. And…Ron’s dad works there. And then Ron will get involved and so will his family, and it’ll just be a mess.” 

“This will probably need stitches.” 

Carl sighs defeatedly, and he sees Negan mulling things over. 

“Would Michonne help you out?” 

Carls eyes light up. 

“I. Yeah. Yeah she might.” 

***

Michonne is there in twenty minutes flat. She’d been off that evening, luckily.  When she’d arrived she’d also arrived with a full on lecture for the two of them, but when she saw the look on Carls face she gave in. 

“This could get infected.” She tells him after looking at his head. “I’m going to have to cut a small part of your hair, which will just look ridiculous…”

“Yeah, I know. Cut it all off. It’s fine. It’s…high school hair anyways. Get rid of it.” 

“Are you sure?”

Carl wasn’t. He wasn’t sure, because he did like his hair and it was just one more damn thing that was being taken away from him but being upset over hair seemed ridiculous. There was also the fact that he felt like it would change him- he’d considered cutting it before, but he always felt like him with his crazy, high school hair was for when he had his dad in his life. This was a permanent, very visible sign that something was different. It just didn’t sit right with him. 

“Okay. Well that’s step one.” Michonne said softly. “Then I can see what I’m doing.” She looks to Negan. “You have anything we can use for his hair, and for the stitches?” 

“I mean, yeah I have a pair of electric clippers but I ain’t touchin’ his hair. Believe me, hair cuts aren’t one of my talents. That’s Lucilles specialty.”

“Okay. Well. I’ll make you look passable and then you can get a real cut tomorrow, okay?” 

“It’s fine Michonne.” He said quietly. 

“What was the last time you ate something, kid?” Negan asks suddenly. 

“Um. Lunch?”

“Well, I’ll make us all dinner while she commits murder on your head." 

“Hey give me a little bit of credit here!” Michonne rolls her eyes at him. 

Negans already going to have to boil pot of water to sterilize the needle that Michonne is going to use, so he decides on Spaghetti. Of course. He pulls out the ingredients while Michonne goes to work on his hair. Her and Negan seem to make eye contact a lot, and by the looks on Negans face it doesn’t seem to be going well.

“ What?!” Carl finally yells at him when he gives him a rather concerned look. 

“You look like a deranged werewolf. Like- you have a lot of hair.” 

“Thanks, Negan.” 

“Hey- don’t insult my work til it’s done!” Michonne threatens him. 

“How bad is it?“ Carl asks with more than a little bit of concern. 

“It’s fine.” Michonne and Negan say together in perfect unison, and it’s a little too reassuring. Therefore, it probably wasn’t fine at all. 

Slowly, though, Negans looks over to him start to change. He becomes more fixated on his spaghetti but would steal a glance at him every now and then, and Carl is now very worried things had gone horribly wrong. He wouldn’t look at Carl long until his eyes were darting back to his pot of spaghetti. Eventually, Michonne declared that his hair was passable for now, and Negan turned around from his cooking. 

Negan had a strange expression on his face, and he’d been staring at him now for entirely too long. 

“What? Is it that bad?” Carl asked, annoyed. 

Negan just shakes his head. “No. No, it’s not bad at all. See for yourself.” 

Carl finally gets up and looks into the hallway mirror and he almost jumps. He doesn’t recognize himself. He doesn’t look at himself long- he feels Negan and Michonne watching him. But it was long enough to know he looked like an entirely different person. So many of his features had been hiding under that mess of hair. He looks suddenly so much older. He walks back to the two of them, who were still staring at him rather expectantly.

“Thanks Michonne.” He says quietly.

“Do you hate it?” She asks sheepishly. 

“No. No, I don’t hate it at all. It’s just…different.”

Negan nods at him in understanding. “I like it.” 

“Oh. Well. As long as I have the Negan seal of approval then I guess that’s all that matters.” 

They laugh at him and Michonne motions him towards her. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you all fixed up, okay?” 

Negan stands quietly next to them as Michonne removes the glass and disinfects the wound, and then stitches him up with her makeshift kit. It’s not hospital grade, but it’ll do. 

Carl winces through it, but otherwise remains quiet. 

“Okay, you. All done.” Michonne says softly once she’s finished and puts a hand on either side of his face. “Feel okay?”

He nods at her. “Yeah. Thanks Michonne. I really owe you.” 

“You don’t. But next time- just go to the hospital, okay Carl?”  

Carl laughs. “I know, I know.” 

***

As she makes her way out Carl hears Michonne and Negan talking in the hallway. About him, assumedly. He heads to the bathroom and leans against the sink, and looks at himself again. His lack of hair was now putting into sharper light the marks Shane had left on him on his neck. The bruises were already starting to get darker.

He was such a different person than he had been the day his father had been shot. He’s bruised, and looks broken, and just lost. And he feels that way too. 

Negan appeared behind him suddenly, and they lock eyes in the mirror. 

“When your dad wakes up he won’t even recognize you.” 

No. No, he won’t. 

Negan says it with a smile, but suddenly Carl feels like he can’t breathe. 

No. No. No. This was not happening. He closes his eyes tightly and sucks in a breath. 

“Carl?” Negan asks with concern, but Carl just shakes his head. He feels Negans hand on his shoulder. 

He hates this. He hates that he can’t hold his shit together- especially for some reason, in front of Negan it seems. He puts his head in his hands. 

“Kid, it’s okay. Just let it out, alright?” 

So he does. It’s all just too much in that moment. Everything. The entirety of the last six months that he hadn’t allowed himself to process, at all. 

He feels Negan turn him around and wrap his arms around him, and he doesn’t even try and protest. 

“It’s okay, kid. It’s okay.” He hears the man whisper to him. All Carl can do is sob quietly into his shoulder. He’d been putting off feeling this for far too long. 

***

It’s not long after that Carls curled up on the couch, feeling like a complete jackass. Negan somehow had a way though of minimizing those feelings. He brings his knees up his chest and hugs them, and Fat Joey comes up and sits next to him and he’s suddenly happy for the cats presence. It's getting late, around midnight, but he still feels like he isn't tired. 

“Can I get you some Tylenol or something?” Negan asks quietly, as he comes back into the room. 

“Uh-Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” 

“Will you ice that too? If I get some?”

“If that’s what gym teacher Mister Negan thinks, then sure.”

Negan chuckles at him. “Smartass. I’m gonna get you ice- but you’re going to have to get that hoodie off. Need help?”

“I. yeah. I might.” 

“Won’t kill ya to ask for help every once in a while, you know?”

“You don’t know that. Maybe I’ll actually keel over and die if I ask for assist- Jesus fuck!-“ 

Negan had pulled the hoodie over his shoulder as gingerly as he could, but it still hurt like a bitch. 

“Shit, Carl. this doesn’t look great.” He says softly as he looks him over, and Carl suddenly feels very small under his gaze. He averts his eyes and focuses on Fat Joey who is now currently climbing the Christmas tree. 

“Your fat cat is about to- oh shit.” He says as the entire Christmas tree topples. 

Negan shrugs, barely looking away. “Happens daily. I hope it decapitates him one day but so far no luck.”

“What’s with the Christmas tree anyways? If it’s just you here?”

“Lucille loves the shit out of them. She wants a Christmas tree farm. It was like, her dream. So she’d probably haunt my ass if I didn’t put one up. And yes, she made me show her photo proof that we have one in the house. Anyways. Ice. Ibuprofen. Couch.”

“It’s- it’s okay if I stay?” He asks hesitantly.

“Course it is. Less you have somewhere else to be.”

Carl shakes his head. “Thank you.” He says sincerely. 

Negan makes his way back into the kitchen and he hears the microwave turn on. He’s confused until he hears popping a minute later. Popcorn. The man’s making popcorn. It all feels so bizarre. 

It’s two minutes later and Negan makes his way over with a plethora of random shit, including the popcorn. 

“So. Home Alone? Home Alone 2? Not home alone 3 that shit sucks. Elf? A Christmas Story? Lucille has them all. Your pick.”

“I- what?” Carl asks, confused. 

“You’ve never seen Home Alone?“

“No, I. Of course I have, I live in America.”

“Look I know you’re not going to be able to sleep right now. And I know if I ask you what you want you’re going to tell me you want to be left alone because you think you’re a bother but I also know that’s bullshit. So. You and me are gonna sit here and watch a dumb ass shitty Christmas movies so we can pretend our lives don’t suck so bad. And so you don’t have to think for a few minutes. Okay?” 

Carl nods, and smiles at him. He hates how Negan always seems to know exactly what’s he’s thinking. 

“So what’s your choice?”

“Home Alone.  Obviously.” 

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” And Negan winks at him. Carl feels himself go into minor heart failure. 

So they sit, Carl curled up as best as he can on the couch and Negan on the other end of it. At one point Fat Joey jumps on the couch and lands in the bowl of popcorn. Negan swears at him. More death threats. Simon falls off the window ledge and lands on the fallen Christmas tree and runs off with an ornament attached to him. Negans completely unphased, so this must all be normal. 

The ibuprofen doesn’t do much but it does take the edge off. And Negan had been right. He’s not thinking about the panic that he felt with Shane’s hands around him, or his total breakdown just a few minutes prior. He’s just laughing at Kevin launching his next ridiculous attack on Harry and Marv.  He feels himself start to drift off, right around when Kevin puts the tarantula on Marvs face, and at one point he thinks he does fall asleep after Negans hand goes to rest just above his foot. 

He only stirs once Negan turns off the movie and gets up. 

“Get some sleep, okay kid?” Negan says quietly and puts a hand on his shoulder. “You need anything?” 

“M’good. Thank you.” 

He doesn’t leave his hand there long. But it’s enough. 

***

As soon as Negan walked out of the room it was like his brain turned on full blast. He’s been trying to sleep for probably two hours but it just wasn’t happening. His collarbone was now absolutely killing him- really his neck, his shoulder, his head, all of it. The couch wasn’t the comfiest either, no offense to Negan and Lucille. He sat up, rubbing at his neck.

Another thing that didn’t help- every time he closed his eyes he saw Shane’s face. In that moment he had been quite certain he was going to die. He felt the panic that had risen in him during those moments again. 

He glanced at his phone. 4:37. And 13 missed calls from his mom. He could deal with her in the morning. 

“You okay kid?” A voice from the hallway made him jump. It was Negan of course. 

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” He stumbles out, turning around to face him. He tried to avoid the fact that seeing Negan all ruffled from sleep looked…cute on him. Wait. Did he just think that? God. He was worse than Jeanine. “Did I wake you up?”

He was confused as to why the man was even out here to begin with. 

“No. I haven’t slept much to be honest. I’m just checkin’ on you.”

“Oh. Well. I’m okay.”

 Negan seems to consider him for a moment. 

“Let’s trade.”

“What?” Carls face twists in confusion. 

“I’ve spent a lot of nights on that couch and it’s as comfortable as a cactus would be up your ass. So, I can imagine how awful it is for you with a stitched up head and fucked up neck. So. C’mon. In the bed.” 

“I’m not…I’m not taking your bed.” 

“Its no big deal. Believe me, I know that couch quite well.” 

“Negan. It’s your bed. I’m not making you sleep on a shitty couch, you’ve done way more than enough for me.”

“Hey, don’t call that couch shitty.”

“Negan.” 

“Carl.” Negan deadpans back. 

“I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

“Okay, well If that’s what you want then- fine. Have it your way. Come on.” 

“What?“ Carls now entirely confused 

“I said c’mon.”

“And I said I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

“Well, you're not. It’s a king. You're skinny. Last time I checked it fit two people.” 

At first Carl is sure he’s bluffing. But the man just continues to stare at him expectantly. 

“Youwantmetocomesleepwithyou?”

“Well Jesus , I mean not if you say it like that . I’m not trying to get arrested or something. Stop making it weird. C’mon, so we can finally get some sleep.” 

So Carl does finally, and follows behind the man to the bedroom. He fully expects to lay there for the next three or so hours, wide ass awake and highly uncomfortable that he was in bed next to Negan. 

But the bed proves to be extremely comfortable, and he finds Negans presence very soothing actually. He curls up and listens to the mans breathing even out next to him. 

He’s sound asleep within 2 minutes flat. 

***

Carl wakes up surprisingly rested. He buries himself in his pillow- and then all the pain from last night comes rushing back. He’d forgotten all about it. And- he’d also forgotten that he was in Negans bed. Fuck. 

He looks over, and the man is wide awake already, staring at him. 

“Morning.” Negan says softly. 

“Hi.” Carl replies quietly, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. 

“You slept good.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I did. Comfy bed.”

“Better than the couch?”

“Much.” 

Negan is staring at him intensely, and Carl shrinks a little under his gaze. The man shifts a little, and suddenly he was close to Carl. A little too close. Negan puts a hand on his face and brings his thumb to his chin. 

“What- what are you doing, we can’t-” Carl stutters out awkwardly. 

“You’re telling me you don’t want this?” Negan asks him softly. 

Carl doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, unsure. His head is spinning. This absolutely was not happening. 

“You say stop, I’ll stop right this second. But I feel like you’re lying to yourself if you’re telling me you don’t want this. And we both know it.”

“I do, but-”

“I see the way you look at me. I’m not blind, Carl. You want this as much as I do. You’ve been practically begging for it.” Negans hand goes to his cheek and rests there gently. 

 Carl considers it for a moment. He does. He does, but- 

“No, I can’t. Lucille-“

“Lucille understands. She likes you. She’s okay with it.” 

“She’s- what?” 

“Will you let me kiss you? We don’t have to take it farther than that if you don’t want to.”

“I…I guess? I mean. You sure she’s okay-”

But he doesn’t get the whole sentence out because before he even knows what’s going on Negans mouth is on his and suddenly the man’s on top of him. Carls hands instinctively go to the mans shirt, to the bottom of it and he runs his fingers along the small bit of exposed skin that he can feel. And god, Negan feels so good on him. The weight on top of him is so comforting, and he feels himself get undeniably turned on from it.

“Just relax kid.” Negans mumbles out to him, and Carl does as Negan tells him and closes his eyes. He feels Negans teeth run along his neck very gently, and it feels so nice on the sore, bruised skin there. His hands find their way around the back of Negans neck, and he pulls him in a little closer. 

“That’s it, baby.” Negan murmurs to him, encouraging him. 

“Are you sure-” Carl starts again but he’s cut off once more. 

“Shhh…” Negan whispers to him. “You think too much kid.” 

“You talk too much.” Carl banters back. 

“Well then shut me the fuck up.” 

So Carl does. His tongue is suddenly  halfway down Negans throat, and his hands are running all over him, in straight up disbelief that this was actually happening. This wasn’t Ron- this was his literal wet dream come to life. 

“You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” Negan murmurs into his shoulder, and Carl nods.

“I- I do.” He whispers out. “I want you so bad.”

“I know. I know. You need someone to take care of you, don’t you? You need someone to just tell you what to do.” 

“ Yes.” Carl whimpers out, his whole body going almost weak. 

“Let me take care of you, okay?”

“Please, Daddy .” Carl whispers back. He wraps his arms around the man again, nipping him on the neck and bringing him as close as he could.

He still can’t believe this was happening. There was just no way this was actually happening. 

Oh shit. It’s not actually happening.

“ Fat Joey get the fuck out of here! 

“What-?” 

Carl jolts awake from the most vivid dream of his life. Fat Joey scampers across the bed as Negan throws a pillow at him, and lands on Simons unfortunate little tabby head, which just causes the two cats to tear out of the room in a mad heap.

“Jesus fucking Christ .” Negan mumbles into his pillow, his head burrowed under it. “Between you and those damn cats I didn’t get a fucking minute of sleep. Swear I’m going to cook them in the air fryer today. And you, too, if you keep movin’ around like that.” 

“I- sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Did I- keep you up?” 

“Not as much as Fat Joey. You were just  havin’ a bad dream about your dad or some shit, you kept fuckin’ talkin’ about him. Now shut up and go back to bed. Or don’t, I don’t give a rats ass. But either way be quiet.” 

If Carl could have physically dematerialized he would have. He’s suddenly extremely grateful for Fat Joey, and he owes him a solid favor. He’s earned tuna for life. Because he was about three seconds away from Negan being his actual wet dream and never living it down for the rest of his entire life.

Chapter Text

“You sure you wanna go home?” Negan asks him as soon as they’re in his truck. Carl had texted Lori first thing and told her to call him off from school. It was the last day before winter break and he wasn’t going to school looking like this, and now at least he wouldn’t have to show his face until after winter break which allowed him to avoid a lot of questions . He wasn’t going to burden Negan any longer, so he asked if the man could give him a ride home. 

“I just want to get my keys- and get my car. I’ll figure shit out from there.” 

“Okay. Well. You want me to help you figure your shit out from there?” Negan knows the answer is going to be no, but he asks anyways. 

Carl just shakes his head. “No. No…I can deal with them. It’s fine. You’ve done a lot for me already.”

There’s a pause, where he sees Negans hand clench and unclench from the steering wheel as if he’s deep in thought. 

“You should file a police report. Today.” 

Carl laughs, so loud that it almost makes Negan jump. 

“What?” Negan looks over at him incredulously. “You’re not gonna just let this bastard get away with this, are you?”

“Negan, he is the police.” 

Negan doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, confused. 

“He’s my dads partner. Or- he was, I guess. He’s a sheriff. He’s… he’s not just some random guy my moms sleeping with. He was my dads best friend. My godfather. He’s basically…family. Which is why this just sucks. But no. Even if I went to another officer, they’d just lose the paperwork. They protect each other. Which I get, don’t get me wrong- they have to look out for each other, cause no one else is. But. Shane’s untouchable. It’s just how it is.”

“Fuck. That’s fucked up. You know it is.” 

Carl goes silent for a moment and his hand goes to touch his hair almost unconsciously and he almost startles when he realizes it’s not there. Weird. 

“None of this would be happening if my dad was still around.” He doesn’t even realize he’s said it until it’s out. 

“He is still around, Carl.” The man says softly. 

Carl huffs out a laugh. “Don’t patronize me. Seriously, don’t. You’re the only one who doesn’t.” 

“Fine. Fine .  What do you want me to tell you then Carl?” 

“I don’t know, Negan. What do you want people to tell you?” Carl bites back, immediately regretting it. He hated how fast the man could get under his skin. 

Negan considers him for a moment. Fine. He’ll play along. 

“I want people to tell me that Lucille is going to die. Instead of living in denial. But that after she dies things are going to be okay. That the world is still going to keep turning. That things may not be the same but that every day will get a little easier. And that maybe one day I’ll find someone else who I loved as much as her. Who won’t replace her but will make the world a little less harsh.” 

Carl nods, and looks out the window. 

“You will, Negan.” He says quietly, and brings his knees up to his chest. 

***

No one’s home, thank god, when they pull up to their house, which is rare. Carl sighs without even realizing it and Negans hand is suddenly on his shoulder. . 

“Call me. Okay? Let me know if that dipshit comes back.”

Carl just hastily nods. “Yeah. Yeah I’ll be fine, but sure.” 

“You sure you don’t want me to go in and see if that asshole is there?”

“No, no he’s not. I’m sure he’s working. It’s fine. Thanks Negan…. I owe you.”

“You don’t. But call me. And call Lucille for god sakes, she’s been blowing up my phone all morning.” 

“Oh god, I’m really in for it, aren’t I?” Carl laughs. 

“Yep. Don’t want to deal with that woman being concerned over you. I’ll say hi to your boyfriend Ronald when I see him.”

“Oh fuck you.” Carl rolls his eyes at him. 

“You’d love that.” Negan says with a grin. God, he hated this man. 

“ Bye jackass.” And Carl slams the door and smiles at him as the man drives off. 

He turns around to walk into his house and realizes, well shit. He doesn’t have his keys. He checks, and yep, front door is locked even though Carl very clearly had left his keys out on the table. Thanks mom , he thinks smugly. 

He heads to the side, where he knows there’s a broken window latch. He hoists it up, but his collarbone is screaming against him. He’s snuck in many times before, but this is complicating things. 

Shiva, their orange tabby, is staring at him from the kitchen counter. 

“Shiva you fat waste of space, open the door!” He yells at the cat for absolutely no reason because well, Shiva is about as useful as a hotdog in a trench coat in this particular situation. The cat slow blinks at him and then jumps down with a thump. 

He’s just about to be halfway in the window, and he’s got one foot on either side when he hears a whoop from a cop car. 

Oh for fucks sake. 

It’s Shane, of course. 

Shane pulls the car quickly off to the side of the road like he’s spotted a freaking bank robber and jumps out of the car, squinting at him, and he’s just about to open his mouth when he looks taken aback all of a sudden. 

“ Carl?!” 

Carl sighs and bangs his head on the window sill. Goddammit. 

“Who else would it be, Shane?” He sighs out. 

“Huh. What- what happened to your hair?”

“It evaporated.” He says dryly. “I cut it off, what does it look like?” Fucking dumbass. 

“Alright. Well, care to explain what you're doing breaking into a private residence in the middle of broad daylight?” Carl looks skyward and prays for patience. 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

“I don’t have my keys. Why else would I be breaking into my own house?” He deadpans back. “ Dickhead .” He whispers under his breath to Shiva. Shiva meows in agreement. 

“I’m just fuckin’ with you Carl. Didn’t recognize you for a second, thought you were some friggin’ degenerate. C’mon I have a spare.”

“Nah I’m good. Halfway in, anyways.” He shrugs. 

“Get out of the window Carl. You look like a jackass.” 

Carl huffs out defeatedly. From inside Shiva meows at him. 

“I know, I know. I hate him too.” He mumbles to the cat. 

***

“You sure look different without all that hair, kid.” Shane says, once they’re  in the door.

“Uh. Thanks.” Carl says flatly, closing the door behind him and feeling uncomfortable being in such close proximity to Shane so soon. 

“No I mean, it’s good different. You look good.”

Carl shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, didn’t exactly want to cut it, but had no choice.” He bites out and then almost kicks himself. He did not want to start another fight with Shane. 

“Carl. You know I had no choice, either, right?” Shane rounds on him and is too close to him suddenly. Shane backs him into the door, until Carls back is flat against it, and his hand goes over Carl's shoulder to rest behind him on the door. 

“Carl. Listen. I know things are tough with your dad being gone- but everything can’t be left up to your mom. I gotta take on some of the discipline. You need someone to set you straight. You can’t talk to me like that. Can’t talk to adults like that. I get it. You’re going through that rebellious teen phase. I get you’re not a little boy anymore. And I know, I know this is confusing ‘cause I’ve always been nice ol’ uncle Shane and let you get away with anything your little heart desires cause I love you, but you’re old enough to know better, alright?” 

The hand that’s not on the door goes to his hip, and suddenly Shanes grip is firm on him, and almost bruising. Carl looks down at him confused. Shane pulls him to him a little to where he’s almost touching him. 

“You’re old enough now to know a lot of things Carl.” Shane whispers out to him. 

There’s a second where they both just stand there, and Carl's pretty sure he can hear his heart in his chest. He feels Shane’s hand moving on him suddenly, and Carl's frozen. He’s frozen and he can’t move and then- and then he jumps, and the trance is broken, and Shane’s hand flies off of him. 

“I just uh. I just came home to get my keys.” Carl stumbles out, and he sneaks out from under Shane so fast that the man can barely move before Carls out in the living room. He looks for his keys intently, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Carl.” Shane says firmly, and he turns around to face him but he can’t look at the man for some reason. 

“Wh-what?” 

He turns around and Shane is holding his keys up. Bastard had them all the time. And he’s dangling them in front of Carl. 

“You be a good boy now.” He throws the keys at Carl. “Go. Don’t be causing any more trouble for your mama. She has enough on her plate. And what happened last night? What’s happening, right now? You know it’s in your best interest to keep shut about it. It stays between us. You don’t want to complicate things. Not for your mama. Not for your sister . Or your dad.” 

Carl nods, because it’s the only thing he can do, and Shane walks out. 

He shakily sits down on the couch for a second to collect himself, trying to make his breathing even out. He can’t stay here long though, because he swears he can still feel Shane’s hand on him. And then he gets up, and convinces himself that he had read the situation all wrong. Shane had touched him loads of times. He was just being ridiculous. 

****

“Oh, honey.” 

When he doesn’t hear Lucille call him her familiar trailer trash when he enters the room he knows  things are bad. He had found a hoodie with a small collar on it that hid his neck fairly well, but he must have that overall beaten down look to be able to elicit that kind of response from her. 

“Is the haircut that awful?” He asks with a small smile. 

Lucille doesn’t even play along. “You know I’m not talking about the haircut.” She says quietly. “Though. That needs work, too. Are you okay?” 

Carl was now standing right next to her bed, and she nods which he knew meant to sit his ass down immediately, so he does

“Yeah. I’m okay.” He says quietly. “How much did he tell you?”

“Enough.” She says shortly and takes his hand in hers. “Enough to have me worried sick about you.”

“You’re already sick, that wasn’t my doing.”

“ Carl.” He grins at her but realizes that he’s not getting out of this. 

“Really. I’m fine.” He insists. 

“Show me.” She says sternly. 

He doesn’t even ask what she means or fight it at all. He just concedes, pulling down his hoodie at the neck and looking away from her. 

If he thought it had looked bad yesterday that was nothing compared to what he looked like now. His entire chest and neck was one large blue and black mark, with some yellow thrown in there apparently for variety. 

He hears a little gasp come from her and he quickly pulls the hoodie back up. 

“Carl. Sweetheart. This…this isn’t okay. This isn’t okay at all.”

Carl won’t look at her. 

“It’s my fault.” He whispers out suddenly.

“ What ?” She hisses out.

He shrugs. “I provoked him.” 

“You don’t actually believe that. I know you don’t. Carl. Look at me.” 

Carl finally does look at her, and he hates the look on her face. She takes his face in her hands. 

“You absolutely did not deserve this, okay?  Nothing you could have done would make this your fault.” 

“It…it would just be easier. If it was.” 

“Why would you ever say that?” She asks, as if what he was saying was the most ludicrous thing in the world. 

“Because it’s easier to hate myself than it is to hate Shane. And my mom for not protecting me. And my dad for not being here. And it’s easier to not have to think about Judith there with him if it’s my fault. If last night was my fault because I pushed him over the edge then it doesn’t make him a monster. It just makes me an asshole. It’s easier. It’s so much easier.” 

She nods but doesn’t say anything, but he can see the hurt on her face and he suddenly feels terrible. 

“Can I at least fix this mess for you?” She asks softly, her hand going to his hair. 

He smiles. “Don’t let Michonne hear you say that.” 

“She already warned me this morning when she came into my room. She even brought me shears to fix it. Said she’s a nurse, not a barber.” She gives him a soft smile but it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Because he can’t stand to see her sad over him. “I’m okay. Really, I am.”

“Why won’t you let us help you, Carl?” She finally asks. 

He shrugs again. “I do need help. With the hair.” 

Lucille just nods and gives him a hug. He stays there longer than he should and clings to her for a second, allowing himself just a brief moment of weakness. 

“Okay. Now let’s take care of this hair, alright?” She brushes a tear away, and Carl hates himself so much in that moment. He hates that he ruins everything he touches. 

***

He knows it’s only a matter of time before he has to tell Ron about everything, so he decides to stop putting it off. He also wouldn’t mind seeing the other boy after the day he had. Wouldn’t mind seeing Negan, either but he pushes that thought aside. 

He opens the door hesitantly to Daryl’s shop and is relieved to find the little lobby empty, but he hears the chime go off and he knows someone’s about to pop out. He knows that someone is most likely Ron, since he’s a lot more personable than Daryl, and Negan just would be too lazy to go up front when he could make Ron do it. 

“Hey, how can I help yo-” he hears Ron’s voice trail off and sees a look of surprise come over his face, his eyebrows shooting up to his forehead.

 “Carl?!” He asks in disbelief. 

“Hey.” He responds back softly as Ron comes out from behind the makeshift front counter. 

“You- where’s all your hair? ” Ron asks in shock. 

Carl shrugs. “Uh. Long story?”

“Oh.” Ron steps back and looks at him again. “ Damn .” He says in a breathless voice. “You look- you look really good babe.”

“You- you like it?” Carl asks uncertainly. 

“Fuck yeah I do.” Ron says genuinely, and he looks Carl up and down again. 

“You’re kinda creepin’ me out.” 

Ron smiles at him warmly. “Sorry. You just. I. Wow.”

Carl smiles back at him, and he’s sure Ron’s reaction is genuine. He feels off without his hair- almost exposed. Maybe he has hidden behind it too much. But Ron at least seems to be enjoying the new him, and he can’t help but feel relieved and he soaks up the attention for just a moment. 

Ron kisses him gently, and wraps his hand around his waist. 

“Ron.” Carl says lowly. “Not here.” 

“I don’t care, Carl. They know about us already, okay?” 

He lets Ron kiss his neck, and as Ron’s doing so Carl sees Negan appear out of the garage door with a shit eating grin on his face. He sees Negan open his mouth and Carl flicks him off. Negan just shakes his head at him. 

“Anderson!” Negan barks out, and Ron jumps away from Carl. “When you’re done fuckin’ your boyfriend you mind giving me a hand?”

Ron turns around sheepishly to face him. 

“Yep. Yep. Comin’ right now.”

“Yeah. I bet you are coming.” Negan rolls his eyes at him and laughs as he heads back. “Nice haircut Carl.” And he winks at him. 

Ron turns to him again and his hands go back to him for just a moment and rest on his hips.  “Come over later, yeah? And I’ll show you just how much I like this.” 

Carl knows he shouldn’t, but he also knows where he’ll be later on. 

***

He finds his mom at home, sitting at the kitchen table, her head in her hands and Judith in her bouncer next to her. 

Her head shoots up as soon as she hears the door open. 

“Carl? Baby?” She asks softly, and he can tell she’s been crying. Dammit. 

“Yeah mom?” He answers quietly, and walks down the hall towards her and Judith. 

“Oh baby.” She says as soon as she lays eyes on him. She stops for a moment and looks at him. “Your-you-.”

“Yeah, my hair, I know.” 

He picks Judith up, because she’s looking at him from her bouncer, and he smiles at her. She grabs his nose. 

“You look…so grown up.” Lori says with a small smile. He returns it and closes the gap between them. 

“I’m sorry mom.” He’s not sure why he’s sorry. He just is. 

“Oh honey, no. You have nothing to be sorry about. Shane was so broken up about it. He said- he said he saw you? And that he apologized and you two straightened things out? He was so upset over it.” 

“I-“ Carl stops, and he feels like his brain has short circuited and if he wasn’t holding Judith he might have passed out from shock. “Yeah. Yeah, he did.” He says simply. He’s not going to add to his moms stress. 

“I love you, baby.” His mom says genuinely, and she runs a hand through his hair. “I know things have been so tough with your dad, but. I’m just glad that you’re still doing good in school and you take such good care of Judith. Your dad would be so proud of you.” 

***

Against his better judgement he does indeed himself at Ron’s that night. He needs to forget. 

He barely has the door closed behind him and Ron’s already slamming him into it, his hands gripping Carls hips possessively. 

“Missed you.” Ron whispers out, kissing Carl up and down his neck. Carl let’s out a little whimper when Ron hits a sore spot.

“What is it, baby?” Ron asks softly. 

“Nothing.” Carl insists. “Just want you.”

Ron smiles at him. “Want you too. I’ve been thinking of you all fuckin’ day. They knew , too. Said I was distracted after I saw you. Which I fucking was. You look so damn good like this, baby. Couldn’t get my mind off of you.” 

Carl feels a jolt in him at the thought of Negan knowing Ron had been thinking about him. And suddenly he wants to know more. Not about Ron- but about Negan. He had been on edge all day over the man. He couldn’t stop the thoughts of him running through his head after that dream last night. 

“Oh yeah?” Carl whispers out breathlessly. “Tell me, Ron.” He nips at his ear. “You thinking about me sucking your dick all day? And everyone knew? You wanna stick your dick in me that bad? That you couldn’t even think straight?” 

“ Fuck, Carl.” Ron growls out. He wasn’t used to Carl talking to him like this, because it wasn’t something he did often. “You can dirty talk me like this any day, baby. What has you all worked up?”

Carl grabs one of Ron’s hands and puts one of his fingers in his mouth, sucking on it. 

“You. You, being all distracted because of me .”

“Yeah? Yeah, you like that?” 

“Hmhmm. I do.” 

Ron’s hands slide suddenly under his hoodie, and he goes to kiss him again until Carl pulls back. 

“You can’t ask questions.” Carl says suddenly and Ron shoots him a look. 

“What?” Ron asks, entirely confused.

“When I take my hoodie off. You can’t ask questions or I swear I’ll walk the fuck out. Shane and I- we got into a fight and… just. Please. I came here to forget. So make me forget. Please? You know what it’s like.”

Ron has a confused look on his face but he nods and his hands slip under Carl's hoodie again and he slowly takes it off of him. Carl winces with every movement but he tries not to show it. 

Once it’s off Ron looks him over and he hears a sharp intake of breath come out of him. 

“Carl no.” Ron says, his voice breaking. “ No , baby. This is…”

“You said you wouldn’t ask questions.” Carl reminds him quietly. Ron swallows hard and just nods. “I…okay.” 

Carl grabs his hand and moves them over to the couch and pulls Ron on top of him. He kisses him deeply, licking into his mouth and pulling him closer. 

Guilt suddenly surges through him. Guilt that he’s getting off more on the thought of Negan than his boyfriend, who’s right here in front of him trying to take care of him. Guilt for thinking about a married man who’s dying wife he had befriended. Guilt for starting shit with Shane. He had deserved it. He had. He had complicated things between him and his mother and she didn’t deserve that. She was working hard, just like he was, and she needed someone. Shane was family. Why had he gone and fucked all that up? 

“Hit me.” Carl says suddenly. 

“What?” Ron asks, confused. It certainly wasn’t the first time that they had done something like this, but after seeing Carls neck it wasn’t something he would anticipate him wanting.

“Baby. No. No, you’re already- I can’t.”

“Ron.” Carl growls out at him, and takes his wrist harshly in his hand. “Fucking. Hit. Me.”  

“I-“

“Ron. Please .” 

So Ron does. He slaps him hard across the cheek, and Carl gasps out almost in relief. He cracks his jaw and looks up at him, his hands now pawing at Ron’s chest. 

“Hit me again. Tell me I deserve it.”

“Carl, where is this com-“

“You said you wouldn’t ask questions. Shut the fuck up Ron and fucking hit me like you mean it. I know you know how.”

He pushes against his chest roughly, almost throwing the other boy off balance. Ron sits up and just stares at Carl, but Carl pushes him again. 

He sees a glint in Ron’s eye and he knows he’s pushed him over the edge. 

“Fuck you, Carl. You’re so fucked up. You want me to hit you?”

Carl nods quickly, egging him on. 

“Yeah? Yeah you fucked up little shit? You want me to hit you so hard I make you forget?”

Ron hits him again and then bites his neck and Carl arches up, exposing more of it so Ron could bite at it more. It was already so sore, and every lick of Ron’s tongue on it was torture but he welcomed it. 

“Fuck you, Carl.” He repeats, his voice cracking and it breaks Carl out of his haze. 

“Ron…” Carl starts off softly. Rons looking down at him with a completely broken face. 

“No Carl. Fuck you . You think I want to hurt you?”

“I asked you to.” Carl says dumbly. 

“No. No. I'm not talking about this time.  All those times I’ve hurt you, when I snap like my dad. I just… Baby sometimes I can’t stop myself and I hate myself so much for it. And now that I’m looking at you, and seeing what you look like. I never went to hurt you again. I’m so sorry.”

He takes Rons hand in his. 

“It’s okay Ron. I’m fine.”

“It’s not fucking okay , Carl! It’s not. Look at you!” 

And just like that Carl snaps. He doesn’t want to hear it. 

“I didn’t come here for a lecture Ron. I came so that you’d make me forget about all this shit, not pity me. I don’t need that.”

“No, you came here so that I could fuck you up even more. That’s fucked up, Carl, you know it!”

Carl gets up hastily. He doesn’t need to listen to this. He’s off the couch and out of the room. Just as he’s about to reach the door he feels Ron slam into him from behind, almost knocking the wind out of him. 

“What is wrong with you Carl?” Ron has him pinned against the door, he’s an inch away from his face. 

“Same things that’s wrong with you. We’re just fucked up.” Carl shrugs and tuns around in his arms so that he’s facing him. 

Ron’s hand goes to Carls face, and cups his jaw. 

“Yeah. Yeah we are.” Ron whispers back to him. He takes a breath. “Are we….Are we any good for each other?”

Carl shrugs. “Sex is good.” 

“Sex is fucking great.” Ron agrees. “Don’t you hate this? Hate that we’re fucked up because of our parents. The shit we’ve been pulled into?”

Carl nods. “Yeah. Yeah I do.” 

“Stay, baby.” Ron says softly. “Just stay with me tonight, okay? Even if it’s…shit. Fuck. I don’t know. I don’t know.” Ron repeats and Carl sees how lost he looks. 

“Okay.” Carl gives in, going to kiss him softly. He doesn’t want to talk anymore. 

He just wants to forget. 

***

They’re laying in bed an hour later, Carl wrapped up in his arms, his fingers tracing little patterns on Rons chest absentmindedly. 

“I hate him, Carl.” 

“Who?” Carl asks, confused. 

“My dad.” 

Carl stays silent for a moment, mulling over what he wants to say. “He’s an asshole.” He says quietly. 

“Sams afraid of him. He has nightmares. Doesn’t sleep.” 

Carl sits up a little at that and looks at him. “Don’t you think it’s time, Ron? We can stop this. I can tell Shane. Or anyone else there.” 

Ron just shakes his head. “He’ll find some way out of it Carl. He’s a surgeon. Just like Shane will find a way out of what he did to you. But. It’s bad Carl. He’s drinking so much. And doing surgery on people! You can’t tell me he’s going into work sober.” 

“Ron. That’s fucked up. You know that. You- you have to tell someone.” 

“Tell who, Carl? Who would believe us?” 

Carl wants to argue, but he can’t. They’re stuck. The both of them. 

***

Christmas comes and goes. It’s a small, quiet holiday for them, but it’s Judith’s first Christmas, and he’s excited to give her the small things he picked out for her as well as his mom. Things don’t feel normal, though, with his dad not there. He can’t believe how much has changed over the past year. 

His family goes up to see his dad at the hospital, and he ends up running into Negan in the hallway who insists that he immediately go in and wish Lucille a merry Christmas. Lori and Judith follow him eventually, and he swears he would pay good money to see Lucille’s face light up over Judith again. Judith takes right to her, and happily sits in her lap while Lori and Lucille talk animatedly like they’re old friends. Negan and him leave for a second to grab a drink from the cafeteria and Negan thanks him genuinely, because he says he hasn’t seen her that happy in a very long time. 

Carl doesn’t want to himself admit that the small amount of time he had spent with Negan had been his favorite part of the day.

Lori doesn’t have to work, so he spends the night with Ron and they split a shitty bottle of wine that he’s pretty sure Ron got from the dollar store and watch a Christmas movie. When they’re sufficiently wine drunk Ron decides to put on a ridiculous Youtube video of a cackling fireplace to ‘set the mood’ and asks Carl if he ‘can make love to him’. The wine makes Carl actually giggle at the ridiculous question, and then he calls him a moron but agrees quickly of course. Later on Ron tells him he loves him. Carl says it back, but he’s not sure if it’s the wine talking or not.

In that moment, he doesn’t care. He’s happy. 

**

Soon it’s that shitty week between Christmas and New Years when no one knows what they're doing or what fucking day it is. It's also the week that he’d been dreading. It was the day before Lucille's palliative surgery. It wasn’t anything that could cure her of course, but it could relieve some of her pain and give her an extra few months.  

He knocks lightly at the door, carrying his usual contraband. She can’t eat anything after midnight, but before that…

“Trailer trash!” She exclaims joyfully as he walks in. “What’d ya bring me?” She says with a grin. She’s overly cheerful for someone who’s about to have surgery that could potentially kill them. 

“Only the best for you.” He grins at her, and he pulls a literal gold mine of Taco Bell out from his backpack. 

“I love you. ” She says, beaming at him. “Good last meal.”

“Oh shut up.” He says, rolling his eyes at her and putting his feet up on her bed once he’s in his usual chair next to her. “You’re gonna be fine.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe I croak.” 

“You know there’s this thing called optimism.” 

“Uh huh. This coming from mister optimist himself.”

‘I’m plenty optimistic.”
“Carl, you’re the definition of an angsty, brooding, damaged teen.” 

“I don’t brood!” He exclaims defensively. 

She just rolls her eyes at him.

“Maybe I brood a little. Shut up and eat your gordita crunch.” 

They fall into silence for a moment, and both watch a rerun of One Tree Hill. 

“I like Peyton. She’s feisty.” Lucille comments, through a mouthful of nachos later on.

“She’s hot.” Carl shrugs.

“Hey. Grab my bag for me, will you?” She says suddenly.

Carl dips down and grabs it for her. She rifles through it for a moment before pulling out an envelope. 

“For you. For whenever I decide to see the white bright light of the heavens. Whenever that is.”

He looks at the envelope and then up at her like she’s crazy. 

“Nothings going to happen to you tomorrow, Lucille. You’re just going to end up with more time.” 

“Carl. It’s a matter of time, okay? If it’s not tomorrow, it’ll still be….It’ll still be soon. You know that, right?” 

“Y-yeah. I do. It’s just...” He slowly takes the envelope, conceding. “Is there a million dollars in here?”

“Ha. I wish. If there was, don’t tell Negan. Cheating bastard doesn’t deserve jackshit.” 

“Absolutely not.” Carl smiles smugly at her. “You’re gonna be fine Lucille. I have a good feeling about tomorrow.” 

“Thanks Carl. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, I think.” 

“Thank you, Lucille.” He says genuinely, out of nowhere. 

“For what, trailer trash?” 

“For…I don’t know. Just. Talking to me, I guess. That sounds…that sounds lame, but you know.” 

“It’s not lame at all. Thank you for talking to me. You're the bright spot in my day. I always look forward to seeing you and your little brooding self.” 

There’s a knock on the door suddenly, and Carl grabs all the contraband wrappers and hastily throws them into his lap. 

Negan walks in with an amused look on his face. 

“My two favoirte people.” He grins, and looks at Carl. “ Wow . That’s a fuck ton of Tbell for your skinny ass, kid.” 

“I was hungry.” Carl shrugs. 

‘That’s gotta be like…9 tacos?” 

“I was really hungry?” 

Lucille just looks at him. “You're such a terrible liar, Carl.” She says flatly to him. 

He glares at her. “You have nacho cheese, all over your face, Lucille.” 

Lucille looks at him like she doesn’t believe him, but Negan just nods. “He’s not lying.” 

“Carl you asshole, why didn’t you tell me?!” 

***

A few minutes later after Carl has said his goodbyes he’s heading out and as he closes the door he turns around to see none other than Pete Anderson. His eyes narrow a little at the man before he reminds himself to change his face and not look like an asshole to the father of the kid he’s fucking on the regular. 

“Carl Grimes.” Dr. Anderson says warmly. “How’s your father?”

“He’s good. I mean. He’s. Still in a coma. So.” Why are you the awkward person on planet earth, Carl, he berates himself. 

“Things could turn around. Keep your head up.” 

“Thanks, Dr. Anderson.” And he’s about to keep walking when he notices where the man is headed towards. 

“Are you- are you going to see Lucille?” He asks suddenly, before he can stop himself. 

“I- uh. Room 307. Lucille Morgan?” 

He nods. 

“ You’re her surgeon?” He asks again, dumbly. 

“I. Yes. Do you know her?” 

He just nods again. “Yeah. I know her…well.” 

“Well. I can assure you we’ll do everything we can for her tomorrow.” 

Carl bites his lip. Fuck. No. This absolutely wasn’t happening. 

“She’s important to me.” He says, as Pete’s about to turn the knob. 

Pete just turns around and looks at him with a raised brow. “She. She deserves someone who is really focused on her surgery.” 

“I’m focused on all my patients, Carl. Don’t worry about her at all.” Pete says, but there’s an uneasiness to his voice now. 

“Just. There’s a lot of people who care about her. Okay?” He continues on, not giving a shit if he sounds like an asshole or the most awkward person on the planet. 

“There’s a counselor. In room 110. If you need to talk to someone before her surgery.” 

“I don’t need counseling.” I need you to not be drunk while you perform surgery. “But. Thanks, Dr. Anderson. I uh. I hope things go well tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, Carl.” Pete says curtly. “I’m sure it will.”

Chapter Text

He knows that looking at his phone every five seconds isn’t going to magically speed up time, but he can’t help himself. He’s nervous and he has this constant feeling like he’s going to throw up. 

Surgery should have been done by 12. It was now 3pm, and while of course he didn’t think he’d be first on Negans list to contact he still is antsy. He waits, and busies himself, but he still is on edge, and he decides by 4 that he can at least go up to see his dad. And while he won’t make his presence known it can’t hurt to just walk by the room to make sure she’s okay. He convinces himself that’s not weird. 

Nothing seems off on the floor when he enters and relief sinks over him. So, she’s fine. If she wasn’t, there’d be some noticeable difference in the hallway. There’d be some air of morbidity about. It wouldn’t be the same.

He has to pass her room on the way to his dads, and as he walks by it he notices the door is open and suddenly he’s nervous. He definitely didn’t want Negan to see him. It would be… it just wouldn't be right to interfere with their alone time. 

So he makes up his mind to walk as fast as he can by it. He does, and he chances a glance, hoping the curtains drawn anyways so they can’t see him. 

But when he does he looks quickly and sees... nothing. 

The curtain isn’t drawn. The bed is empty and clean. There’s no personal belongings there. No sign that anyone was there. The white board that usually had scribbles on it on the wall was wiped clean. 

Suddenly he feels like a moron. They moved her. Of course. People get moved in hospitals all the time . Especially after surgery. He’d just ask Michonne when he saw her. 

And speak of the devil- he turns around and she’s standing right behind him. 

“Hey Michonne.” He says brightly. 

“Carl.” She says softly. His heart stops. And it sinks to his stomach. He always thought that was an expression but he swears he feels his soul physically his body. 

He knows that tone. In that moment he knows . It’s the same tone that his mom used when she told him his dad had been shot. 

“Carl. Honey.” Michonne says softly. He shakes his head and looks back at the room. It’s too clean. 

“What happened?” He asks, almost in a daze. A numb daze. 

Michonne shakes her head. “I don’t know, exactly. Something during surgery.” 

He nods. “Okay. Okay.” He says, as if he’s trying very desperately to convince himself that he’s okay.  

He can hear static in his head and his feet take him to his dads room without him even realizing it. He sits down in the chair next to him, not really knowing what he’s doing. The static is getting louder. 

“Carl.” Michonne snaps him out of his daze. She had followed him in. “Honey. What can I get you?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine. I- I barely knew her.” He says, deflecting anything and everything. Which is what he always did best. 

He puts his elbows on his dads bed and puts his head in his hands, and stares at the thin cotton white sheets as if they’d give him some answer.  

“Did you see him?” Carl asks Michonne, not looking up. 

“He came up- after surgery…to get her things. Maybe an hour or two ago.” 

He just nods, and looks at her finally. 

“It was just a matter of time. Surgery was worth a shot. It just…it was her time.” He whispers out, almost hoarsely. 

*** 

Numb. That’s still the only word that can describe how he feels. He goes home and drives almost on autopilot, and Lori can tell right away that something is wrong. 

She pulls him into an embrace that he feels like he’s needed for a very long time, and so he stays there longer than he probably should but being weak just for a moment is something he feels like he needs . When she finally pulls away he takes Judith out of her bouncer because if there’s one thing his sister is good for it’s instantly making you feel better 

Lori immediately starts pulling out a pot to cook something for Negan. Because when someone you love dies, other people bring you food. It’s just the way of the world. 

“What do you think he’ll like?”

“Uh. I mean- I don’t know. Spaghetti?” He throws it out becasue if nothing else maybe Negan will think it’s funny in some fucked up way. 

“I can do spaghetti.” 

“Thanks, mom.” He says sincerely, sitting down at the kitchen table. 

She walks over and kisses his hair. ‘I’m so sorry, baby. I know you two were close. She seemed sweet…how about you go lie down, and then when it’s ready we can take it over?” 

“I just.” He looks up to her, lost, Judith still happily sitting in his lap. “I kinda wanna sit here with you right now, if that’s okay.” 

She smiles at him and grabs his hand for a second. 

“I love you so much, Carl. I’m so sorry.” 

He nods against Judith and squeezes his moms hand back. He’s grateful for her in that moment. Judith, too. 

“I don’t want to have to go through this again with dad.” He says quietly out of nowhere. This all feels familiar. It feels like when Rick got shot. When he numbly sat at this table, and held his 5 week old baby sister in his arms and felt like he was living an actual nightmare. And he knows that when Rick does finally die they’ll have to go through. Again. 

Lori goes quiet and sits down at the table. 

“I know honey. I know. This isn’t fair for you. To just be waiting on him. I understand.”

Carl looks at her but he doesn’t know what to say. 

“This really…” he drifts off. 

“Fucking sucks?” She supplies with a small grin. 

He sniffles and laughs at her, and nods “Yeah. Yeah it fucking sucks. Shit Judith, don’t listen to us.” He covers her ears.

Lori waves her hands. “You said fuck when you were two. Your dad thought it was hilarious.” 

Carl laughs. “I really miss him.”

Lori puts her arm around him and kisses his temple. “I know sweetie. I do too.” 

***

He gets increasingly nervous on the drive to Negans. He’s decided he’s going to run up to the doorstep, throw the spaghetti down, and dip as fast as he can. He doesn’t need to interrupt Negan- Hopefully he’s not even home. Maybe he’s at the funeral home, or maybe he’s with family if they’re already in town.

The funeral home. God. This sucked. 

He pulls up to the house, and again, he thinks that it should look different now that Lucilles gone. But it doesn’t, and it unnerves him. Just Negans truck parked in the driveway. A normal day. 

He parks in the street and makes a dash for the door, and hastily puts the spaghetti down and almost sprints off like an idiot. He's thinking he’ll just text Negan later and tell him it’s there. Or, maybe he’ll just let him find it. He’s not going to bother him. 

Only, he’s halfway down the drive when he hears the door open.

“ Carl . Don’t think I didn’t see you sneakin’ away.” 

Carl turns around guilty to see Negan standing there. “Uh. Sorry. I just…Didn’t want to be a bother.”

“C’mon.” Negan says softly. His voice is tight, his eyes are a little red. He has a weight about him that Carl notices immediately. 

The first thing Carl sees when he walks in is the bag from Lucilles hospital room and he suddenly feels nauseous, and he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but no. He blinks them away. Negan must have followed his gaze because he’s looking right at him. 

“You okay?” The man asks him softly. 

Carl raises an eyebrow at him. “Y-you’re asking me if I’m okay?” He asks in disbelief. 

Negan just nods.

“No. Not really.” Carl decides to humor him. “You?”

“No.” Negan replies quietly. 

Carl sets the tupperware down on the counter. “Spaghetti.” He says simply. He looks and sees an absolute plethora of tupperware. And cards. And flowers. Which is shocking because she just died, and yet news must have traveled fast.
“Oh. So.You have lots of spaghetti.” He says softly. 

“Eh. A lotta somethin’.”  Negan shrugs. The man walks over to the counter, grabs the cards, and throws them in the trash. 

“You know what just chaps my ass, Carl?” 

“Uh. 16 tupperware containers full of spaghetti?” He suddenly wonders if coming here was a mistake. 

“No. No the spaghetti is nice.” Negan grabs the dish that Carl brought and puts in the fridge. “Thank you, by the way. But. No. No it’s all these damn fucks that were supposedly Lucille’s best friends- her family for godsakes- callin’ me all of a sudden that didn’t give a rats ass about my wife while she was alive. Didn’t call. Didn’t stop by and see her. Didn’t sit in that goddamn forsaken filthy ass shit hole of a hospital while she rotted away. And now they want to come see me. And they want to come to her funeral. They wanna make fucking small talk. Lucille would have loved to see them when she was still alive. It’s fucking bull shit. She’s dead. Why come now?! I never understood why people do this shit. ”  

Carl doesn’t know what to do, so he just stands there, dumbly.

Negan suddenly fixates on him. 

“ She loved you. She really did. God, she wanted kids so bad.”

He looks out the window, almost lost, and then back at him. “You….you were like the kid she never had, you know. I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

Suddenly his phone starts vibrating and he jumps. Ron’s calling. Which is weird, because they pretty much solely communicated through texting. Calling was weird- he must know about Lucille. He puts his phone face down and ignores it. 

It’s buzzing two seconds later. He’s calling again, and now Carls confused.  

“You gonna get that?” Negan asks. 

“It’s just Ron. He just…he never actually calls. ” Carl shrugs.

Negan just raises an eyebrow at him as if he’s pushing him to pick it up, so Carl does. 

“Hey what’s u-” Carl barely gets the words out before he hears Ron start yelling something almost incoherent. 

“Carl. Shit, man. I- I’m glad you picked up. I just need to talk to you.” Ron sounds frantic, crazed, not like himself at all, and Carl immediately knows something is very, very wrong. 

“What’s- what’s wrong?” 

“My dad. My dad . Something happened at work today. He got suspended. There’s a review on him, he fucked up Carl. He killed someone, man. And then he came home and went absolutely apeshit on my mom- says it’s her fault he’s been drinking, says its her fault he fucked up. And she’s really fucked up and she won’t go to the hospital but like- half her face is caved in, I swear. You should see her, Carl. I can’t do it anymore. I was there and he just wouldn’t stop hitting her and I couldn’t stop him from hurting her and I feel so fucking useless. But I'm going to stop him . I'm done. I'm done, I swear to god man, I’m done .”

“Ron, hold on and just stop. What- what’s going on, just talk to me.” Carl doesn’t even know what to say, so he just spits out the frist thing that comes to mind. 

He feels Negans gaze on him and he locks eyes with him from across the room. 

“I am talking to you Carl. And I’m telling you I’m done. ” Ron hisses out frantically. 

“Where are you? How- how about I come talk to you?” Carl pleads with him. He has no idea what Ron is planning on doing but none of it sounds good. 

“I’m- I’m on my way back from Daryl’s. And no. No, I’m done talking. I’m done. He’s not going to hurt my mom, or Sam or me or anyone else anymore. I’m ending this. I just. I wanted to hear your voice.”  

“Okay. Well you’re hearing my voice and I’m right here and I’m telling you to just stop and let me come talk to you. You’re not making any sense.” 

“I just wanted to tell you I love you. Okay?” 

“I- I love you too. But We can fix it okay. Just talk to me?” Carl tries again. 

“I am fixing it Carl. I gotta go. I love you.”

The phone clicks and then suddenly it all clicks. 

Pete killed someone today. He fucked up. 

Lucille. 

Pete fucked up her surgery. And then he went home and took it out on his family. 

Negan looks at him with confusion written all over his face. 

“Carl?” He asks quietly. 

Carl just looks at him, trying to piece it all together. 

“Does Daryl have a gun at the shop?” He asks Negan hesitantly. 

Negans face twists and Carl can tell he has absolutely no idea where that question came from. 

“I-yeah. Yeah. Under the front counter- he keeps it there just in case he needs it. Why?”

It’s like he had been frozen and he jumps up suddenly and runs to the front door. 

“I have to go. I have to go. I have to-” And now he knows that he’s the one that’s not making sense but he knows he has to go stop Ron before it’s too late. 

“Carl. Carl, calm down. What’s going on?” He asks, mirroring Carls words to Ron just a minute ago. 

Carl just shakes his head. “I- I can’t explain. I- I have to go.” 

Negan puts his hand on Carls shoulders and turns him forcibly around. 

“Carl you’re not leaving my house until you tell me what the fuck is going on. Now what is going on?!” The man all but growls out. 

Carl swallows hard and looks up at Negan. He’s not getting out of this. 

“Ron’s dad fucked up Lucille’s surgery. Pete- he came home and beat the shit out of Rons mom and I think…I think Ron’s going back home to kill him. With the gun from the shop. I think he just pushed him too far. I have to go.” 

Negan falters but only for a second and just nods. “Alright. C’mon.” 

“Negan. No. You just lost her you can’t-” Carl starts. 

“Do not tell me what I can and cannot do. I am not letting Ron ruin his life over this. You get your ass in the truck right now and you explain exactly what is going on here and where we’re going.” 

****

The drive over to the Andersons is excruciating. He swears time is moving in slow motion. He tells Negan everything on the short drive over. About how abusive Pete was. About how Ron was worried about his dads drinking but about how he was untouchable just like Shane. He even calls Shane, halfway there, at Negans urging. It’s a last resort but this is a last resort situation. 

Carl wonders if he’s over reacting. And if he is- if he’s read the situation wrong- then calling Shane was a big mistake. It’ll only piss Pete off even more.

But if he was right…Well. He just prays he's wrong. 

When they pull up to the Andersons house Ron's car is there and just- shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

“I think... I think you should stay here. Just. Let me see what’s going on.” Carl tells him once they pull up. He isn’t sure if that’s the right thing, but, he’s definitely not waiting around to see what the best move is. 

“Carl. No. You’re waiting for Shane to get here.” 

“I’ll be fine. Ron will listen to me .” And he firmly believes that. 

He goes up to the door and stops. He wonders what the appropriate thing to do here is. Knock? Ring the bell? Barge in to make sure Ron’s not about to kill his family? He’s just about to knock when he hears it.

That’s definitely Jessie screaming. And that’s definitely Ron screaming back at her. 

Carl looks back at Negan and the man must see the panic in his eyes. Carls questioning him. Because he doesn't know what to do. In the months that Rick had been in a coma he’d very quickly acclimated to not looking for help, because there was none. Things had fallen on him quite suddenly, and he’d taken it in stride, but this- this he didn’t know how to deal with. 

Negan jumps out of his truck, and Carl opens the door, praying it’s unlocked. It is. 

“Shut the fuck up, dad.” Is the first thing he hears. And the first thing he sees is what he was hoping not to see. Ron has a gun pointed at Pete. Jessies in the corner, crying, and Ron hadn’t been lying. Her face is beat to a pulp, and she’s barely recognizable. There’s not an inch on her face that’s not swollen, bloody or bruised. 

Every eye goes to him at the sound of the door opening. 

“ Carl?!” Ron hisses out. “What the fuck ?!”

“Ron.” Carl says in the gentlest voice he can. “Hey. Hey, talk to me. Okay? What's going on?” 

Ron must see Negan behind him because his eyes widen. 

“Okay. Okay, Carl.” Rons talking in a manic, crazed voice. His eyes are wide, unlike Carl has ever seen, and he’s rambling.. “Some interesting things have come to my attention since I last talked to you, Carl. You know who he killed? Lucille. Really dad?! Negans wife?! Look dad. Look! ” Ron exclaims, and Carls convinced that Ron has fully snapped.. “Negan, come on in.” Ron says in an almost theatrical tone. “Dad. Meet the man whose wife you killed today. And Negan. Meet my mom. Yeah. She looks great, huh?” Everyone looks to Jessie- or what’s left of her- and she visibly shrinks. 

“Ron.” Carl says again. “Please. Just….” He drifts off, because he doesn’t know what to say.  

“Ron put the gun down and talk to us.” Negan says quietly. 

“You know what? I think Negan should do the honors. Considering it was his wife you killed.” Ron starts to walk towards Negan, but he still has the gun pointed at Pete.
“Ron. I don’t want to shoot anyone.” Negan tells him soflty. 

“Ron, please. ” Carl pleads. 

“ Shut the fuck up Carl. ” Ron hisses at him angrily. ‘ You know more than anyone why I’m doing this.” 

He looks to Pete again. 

“You ruined everything for me, dad. Everything. You think you can beat the shit out of me every damn day and then just send me on my way to live a normal fucking life? Carl and I? I love him. Yeah. Bet you didn't guess that. On top of all my other fuck ups I’m gay too. I love him, but anytime anything goes wrong do you know what I do? I act like you. I beat the shit out of him because that’s what I learned from you. And it’s not fucking okay! I’m tired of hurting him!” Rons voice breaks at that, and Carl sees him falter, and a little relief spreads through him. 

Okay. okay. Maybe he can talk him down from this. Maybe he can be the voice of reason. 

Carl does something incredibly stupid in that moment. He goes to stand in front of Pete. He doesn’t do it for Pete. He does it for Ron, who, just like Negan had said, he doesn’t want to see throw his whole life away. And he knows Ron’s not going to shoot him , so it only seems logical.

“Ron. Stop. Okay? I love you.” He throws it out and even if he’s not entirely sure if it’s true or not it’s not exactly time to worry about frivolities like that. “I love you. You know that. And- your mom does too. And Sam. And- please just stop. Don’t throw more of your life away over him .” 

Ron looks at him and just shakes his head. 

“It’s not going to get better though until he’s gone, Carl. Don’t you get that? Don’t any of you get that?!?” He yells out absolutely manicaly. 

Carl now feels like Rons on the edge of snapping. He sees Negan move slowly behind Ron- maybe he can try and disarm him if Carl distracts him. So Carl takes a step towards him. It’s quiet- too quiet save for the sound of Jessie softly crying in the corner. 

“Ron.” He hears Pete say quietly. It’s the first word that Pete’s spoken, and Carl whips his head to look at the idiot for the first time. Pete starts talking again. “‘Ron, I’m sorry, but you have to calm down, you’re being-” 

It’s not quiet anymore. A sound rips through the house that’s so loud he’s sure it’s exploding. 

Carl doesn’t know much after that. And later on, he won’t remember anything at all. His memory will blissfully reset to when he’s in the truck with Negan, and pick up much later. 

But in that moment all he knows is that it’s like someone has pulled a curtain over the room and it’s suddenly darker and there’s static in his ears and he’s fairly certain he’s on the floor. Negans over him, and he’s right there but it sounds like he’s so far away and Carl can’t get his eyes to focus on him. 

“Carl? Oh fuck, kid. Oh fuck. You stay with us, okay?” Negan is yelling at him. He doesn’t know why the man is yelling. He doesn’t know why he’s so frantic. 

And then all of a sudden he’s freezing cold. It’s like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on him. But his face- oh his face is on fire. His breath hitches and he can hear Negan suddenly, and the man is yelling and he wishes he would shut up so he tries to open his mouth to tell him to stop yelling like a jackass and nothing comes out. And then he realizes he can’t breathe and suddenly everything hurts and he doesn’t know why. 

“Negan?” He says softly. He wants Negan to tell him what the fuck is going on. He suddenly feels the need to ground himself because he feels like the floor is dropping out, like he isn’t really here, like he’s on a rollercoaster and he’s hit the top of the hill and he’s falling. But then his hands feel leather and he clings to it instantly, because if he’s feeling that leather jacket then it must be Negan, the man must really be there. And suddenly he feels calmer because he knows Negan is actually here, he’s not a figment of his imagination, which is shocking because nothing seems real right now. 

“You’re fine, you’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine Carl.” He hears Negan say frantically, a whispered mantra as if Negan could will it to actually happen if he said it enough times. He doesn’t feel fine. He wishes Negan would stop talking so much. It’s so cold. Except his face. That’s on absolute fire. 

And then he blinks and it’s not Negan over him but Lucille and oh thank god . This had all been some nightmare. Lucille was fine. She was right there in front of him. 

“Hey trailer trash. Relax. It’s not so bad here. Look, I even have cheesy gordita crunches here.” 

She holds up a taco and he laughs at her and smiles and he suddenly isn’t in anymore pain. And then he opens his mouth to say something and it feels like a tidal wave has crashed on his chest.  

And after that, he knows nothing.

Chapter Text

Waking up after being shot in the face is something he’d rather not repeat. Ever.

The room is too dark, and he can’t seem to focus on anything but he immediately knows that he’s at the hospital. In one of those  godforsaken rooms. 

He breathes and suddenly and it’s like he's opened a door and pain literally spreads over literally every single inch of his body. He tries to breathe but it hurts so fucking bad and he lets out a gasp. His hand flies up only it’s stuck and he can’t move and he can’t swallow and he's panicking and- 

A figure appears above him , but his brain isn’t quite working at full speed and he doesn’t know who it is right away. 

“Carl. Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”  He can tell it’s Negan immediately by his voice, even if the man doesn’t sound like himself- his voice is tight and full of what he thinks might be concern. He feels a hand on his face in his hair,  and it makes him feel instantly calmer. 

“Hey, can you look at me?” Negan says softly and Carl finally does. He tries to focus on Negan but he can’t. His eyes aren’t working well for some reason and then he suddenly feels a little panicky again.  

“You know who I am? Don’t say anything, just nod your head if you do.” 

What a strange question, he thinks. Of course he knows who Negan is. 

“Good. Good. You’re okay. Your mom is here, alright? She just went down to the cafeteria. I’m calling a nurse. Just relax, just relax.“ Negan sounds like he’s just muttering out nonsensical things to keep himself calm. “Shit kid. Fuck . I can’t believe you're awake. You're a tough little shit, you know that?” 

He tries to talk but it it just ends up with him coughing, and it burns so fucking bad. Everything burns. And his face hurts so fucking bad- it feels like someone poured hot lava on it. There’s a million questions running through his head but he has no answers, and he knows he can't talk to get those answers. Panic sets in again.  

“Yeah you had a tube down your throat. Don’t try to  talk or move , or  anything, just relax, okay?  You in any pain?”

Carl nods quickly and tries to communicate a resounding yes as well as he can with his eyes because yes , yes he feels like every inch of his body has knives in it.  Negan takes his hand in his own and squeezes, almost as if he's reminding him that he's there for him, trying to distract him.  

“Okay, okay, don’t worry, don't worry, they’ll take care of that." Negan whispers out in a rush. 'You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine. We’re all right here. Nothing's going to happen to you. ” 

He nods, trying to will it to happen, because he feels the pain overwhelming him. But he tries to focus on Negan, and his hand in his own. 

Everything after that is a total blur. He can’t see that well, and he doesn’t know why, and there’s a ridiculous flurry of activity above hi m. 

All of a sudden a smiling, warm face appears above him and she feels someone squeeze his hand, and he can’t think of this nice woman as anything but a ray of sunshine. 

“Hey, Carl. Hey, can you focus on me?” She says gently. He can. And he’s glad he’s being made to focus on something other than the blur and confusion of the room because it was making him feel nauseous. 

She smiles at him when he looks at her. “My name is Tara. And you’re going to be just fine. You’re going to be feeling a lot better here in about two seconds, alright? I’m going to give you something for the pain.” 

He’s not sure why, but all of a sudden it’s like his entire body has been thrown into slow motion. It was like he had been sprinting and he hit a brick wall full force but not in a bad way. He feels warm, and fuzzy, and the pain is still there but it’s not like sharp knives are running through his veins anymore. He lets out a breath that he didn't even know he had been holding, and lets the feeling of numbness spread over him. 

Tara smiles at him, and Carl looks over at him almost lazily. "Good, stuff, huh?  Don’t try and talk. You were intubated, so you had a tube down your throat. You woke up before and you were confused, which is why you can’t move your hands but I’m going to take these off, alright? Everything’s going to be just fine. We’re like the best nurses around.” She winks at him. He feels her hands on his wrists, but he doesn’t even care to move. His body just feels like jelly right now. 

“Someone’s here who really wants to talk to you.” Tara smiles warmly at him. 

And all of sudden his mom is over him and he’s so happy and he feels her hand on his face. He almost instantly relaxes because his mom is here and she’s going to make everything fine again, and his pain is gone and everything just feels so much better. 

“Oh Carl, sweetie.” She says and he feels her take his hand. “Oh my sweet boy you’re going to be just fine. You’re so tough, just like your daddy.”

He looks at her gratefully, because he can’t do anything beyond that. And then he’s so tired all of a sudden. He’s tired, and things feel like they’re moving in slow motion.

“ He’s going to be in and out a lot for a bit. We have him on a few things for pain, and to keep him calm.” He hears Tara the nice nurse say very quietly, but he’s not really sure who she’s talking to. 

He thinks sleep sounds nice. 

*** 

Waking up the next time, though not as confusing, is almost just as painful. He looks around and briefly wonders if the hospital didn’t pay its electric bill because it’s still so dark in the room. Why the hell is it so dark in here? 

He looks over and his mom is sleeping in a chair, and he thinks Negan is too, but the man is sitting upright and has a coffee in his hand. He watches him a little longer and notices that  Negan  is definitely snoring softly and it’s about the most ridiculous thing he’s ever see n , because who the hell sleeps like that ?

He looks in the other direction and sees someone is   standing on the other side of his bed at his IV. 

“Hey Carl.” It’s the nice nurse from before. He now remembers now seeing her a few times when he’d come to see visit his dad and Lucille. 

Lucille. Fuck. That comes back to him like a tidal wave. 

“Nice to have you back with us. Hey, do you remember my name at all?”

He wants to say no. No of course he doesn’t. But his brain starts to search and he thinks it’s there. It’s there. Tiara? No, that’s not a name. Well maybe it is, but it’s not her name. 

“Tara.” He says very softly, and it hurts his throat to talk but he feels better knowing he can talk. 

Her face lights up in shock. “Wow. Carl, you are a tough kid. You’re going to be completely fine, you know that?” 

He doesn’t know why people keep telling him that. You’re going to be fine.  All of a sudden he feels things slow down again, and within a few seconds he almost feels himself physically relax and some of his pain start to dissipate. He can think again. 

“Why am I here? What happened to me?” He asks quietly, and coughs a little , his throat still burning but he was relieved to find that he could talk now.

“You were hurt. In an accident.” Tara says simply. 

Carl thinks but he can’t remember any accident. He remembers driving in the truck with Negan, and that’s the last thing that comes to his mind. 

“Did- did we get into a car accident?” Is Negan alright he thinks suddenly. He looks again over at the man who’s clearly quite alright besides the fact that he’s about to drop his coffee in his sleep  all over his lap and need new pants, but that’s about the only imminent danger he appears to be in. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?“ Tara asks him gently. 

“I. Uh.” He thinks on it, to see if he remembers anything past driving with Negan, but he can’t. “Driving. To my friend Ron’s house.” 

“Okay.” She says softly. 

“Can you tell me what happened?”

She smiles sadly at him and then looks over at his mom and Negan. “Let me wake them up. They know more than I do - and they should be the ones to talk to you.”

He doesn’t like the sound of that. Carl shakes his head. “They’ll just sugarcoat it. They won’t tell me everything. Please.” 

“Okay.” Tara takes a breath , and he can tell she’s internally struggling with whether to tell him or not. “Well. I can tell you at least medically what’s going on. You were shot, Carl.” 

He finally takes a mental stock of his body. He doesn’t feel like he’s been shot? Well. Maybe he has. He’s never been shot before, after all, so he doesn’t know what it’s like. The only place he’s felt consistent pain has been his…face. 

There’s no way he was shot in the face. He’d be dead. People don’t live after that. 

“You were shot in the  face - in the bone above your eye to be more exact .” She continues on in an even, soft tone and she sits down on the bed next to him. “The bullet  shattered that bone and some of the fragments of the bone went into your eye.  You had surgery as soon as you got to the hospital.” 

“Is that…is that why I can’t see that well?”

She just nods. “Yes.”

Okay, Carl thinks. He can live with some blurred vision for a while. That’s fine. 

“You’re - Carl, you’re not going to be able to see anything at all out of that eye.” 

“I- what ? Permanently?” His hand goes up to his face, frantically, and he feels a bandage there. 

“Hey. Try not to touch it. You have a long way to go until it’s healed . ” Tara says softly. 

“Am I like - what - am I blind now? In that eye?” 

“Carl- your eye is completely gone.” 

He doesn’t react at first. He almost laughs, because it sounds absolutely ludicrous. His eye wasn’t gone. I f his eye was gone he’d be dead right?  He could live with being blind, but this was something entirely different. 

“ What?” He asks in disbelief. 

She nods slowly. “ You didn’t want anyone sugarcoating it. So ” Tara continues on. “So I’m not. And you- you need to know. You are very lucky to be alive, Carl. I know that your eye being gone sounds like the worst thing in the world- but. You are so lucky. Even a millimeter or two and you would have died. ”  They rushed you into surgery and no one thought you were going to survive. You absolutely survived this for a reason. You’re not going to believe that, probably not for a long time. But it’s true.” 

For a second he just stares and tries to absorb what she just said. His eye was fucking gone. Gone. Gone ? How the hell is his eye just gone? What the hell would he look like with one fucking eyeball? The next question pops into his head finally. 

“Who- do you know who shot me?” But he knows. It all comes back to him - not the part of getting shot, but he remembers the events that led up until he stepped into that house.   Lucille, and Ron, and driving to the Andersons to stop Ron, and - … but  why- why would Ron have shot him? That didn’t make any sense. 

“It was Dr. Anderson's son. That part- Why he shot you-I don’t know much about. But. I don’t think he meant to hurt you. I think…I think he was aiming for his father. As far as I’ve heard.”

Carl looks up at her inquisitively , wondering how she knows that. 

“People talk.” She shrugs. 

Of course- they were probably the talk of the entire damn hospital. Probably of the whole damn town. None of this made sense. Why in the world would Ron have shot him? 

“Fuck. He must be a mess.” Carl whispers out. 

“Are you and him close? You and- Ron? Is that his name?” Tara asks gently. 

Carl just nods. 

“My girlfriend- she’s a paramedic. Her name is Denise. She was the uh, first on the scene at Dr. Anderson's house that day . She helped you. And she was really worried about you- she’ll be really glad to hear you’re awake. She’s actually been up a few times to check on you because I told her you were one of my patients.” 

Carl softens at that. “Oh.” He whispers out. ”Well, tell her thank you from me. He’s uh- Ron’s my boyfriend. I guess.” He says quietly. He doesn’t know why he feels comfortable enough to suddenly divulge this to her- well, he does know. He knows exactly why she had mentioned her girlfriend. To get him comfortable.  And he was grateful for it. 

A thought finally occurs to him. As to why Rons not around. 

“Fuck. They’re not- oh shit. Are they pressing charges on him? Is that why he’s not here? His dad would have deserved what he got, he’s-”

“Carl.” A voice makes him jump from the corner. It’s his mom. Her and Negan are staring at him with strange, very concerned expressions. 

“Mom. Where’s Ron?” He asks hesitantly. He does not like how they are looking at him. That familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach settles in. He can’t handle anything else. He just can’t. 

His mom just keeps looking at him and then she shakes her head like and puts a hand on her mouth like she can’t, and looks at Negan. 

Negan gets up and comes over to his bed and sits on the edge of it, and Tara moves off of it away and back to his IV. And Carl knows that look on Negans face. He knows that look so well by now. 

“Is he dead? Is Ron dead?” Carl asks, putting the pieces together. 

“Yeah, Carl, he is.” Negan says softly. “I’m so sorry, kid.”

“Did he…?” He can’t even form the words. He knows. He knows, he knows. He knows what Ron did. He knows why, too. 

Negan just nods. “He thought you were dead- we all did. He just…his dad pushed him too far. He wasn’t trying to hurt you. But he did, and I don’t think he could live with it. He really loved you.” 

“He...shot himself?” Carl pushes. He  has to know. He has to ask. 

Negan just nods. 

Carl goes numb again. He hears that static again in his ears and just stares at the sheets, taking in literally every thread. 

“I just gave him something to keep him cal m . It should help. ” He hears Tara say to Lori, but it sounds like she’s far away and he doesn't give any indication that he heard her. He doesn’t feel calm- his mind is racing but it also doesn’t seem like it’s working at all at the same time. He feels like he’s underwater. 

“Carl. Baby are you okay?” It's his mom, and he feels her hand on his. He doesn't even look at her. “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” She says gently and she sits down and pulls him towards her.

He knows he should be having some kind of reaction. Crying, maybe, or anger. But he feels like he has nothing left in him, so he just lays there with her, and lets his mom pulls him into her lap, feeling numb again. It was all too much. His dad. Lucille. Ron. 

He sees Negan, who’s made his way to the corner and the man looks as lost as he feels, and he slides down the wall to sit on the floor. 

And Carl lays there, in his moms lap,  and in that moment he very much understands why Ron did what he did. He doesn’t blame Ron for wanting to leave the earth. And he’s bitter, suddenly, at everyone who worked so hard to save him. He wished they'd let him go. 

And then somehow, things get worse . 

Shane walks in. 

Chapter Text

“Carl! Hey bud. You’re up, that’s great!” 

Obviously, Shane doesn’t know how to read a room. At all. 

Even drugged, Carl feels panic come over him. He doesn’t want Shane here now. Or, ever, really. Carl is well aware that he’s on one too many meds than he’d preferred to be to be around Shane. He feels almost trapped, like he can’t do anything to keep the man away. His logical brain isn't working that well, the one that usually would have told him that there was no way Shane would try anything at a hospital , but thoughts just aren’t coming to him in a way that make any sense. He searches the room for Negan, who’s still in the corner but Negan is up out of his chair in less than a second and is glaring daggers at Shane. 

“Hey, Shane. Come out here for a sec.” Negan says quietly, and Carl sees confusion come across Shane’s features but he follows Negan out, and Carl feels such a sense of relief wash over him with just him being out of the room. 

“Shane’s been really worried about you, honey.” Lori says quietly to him. “He was at the Andersons right after…it happened. He’s been here a few times, but he keeps having to go back to work because there’s- there’s just a lot going on right now with everything.” 

He didn’t give a shit if Shane had been here or not. For some reason the feeling of Shane’s hand on his hip when they were alone at this house creeps into his mind and it’s so clear. And then he still wonders if he had just read that situation all wrong, but how could he have? Panic continues to creep up. He wants Shane gone. 

All of a sudden he hears a shout from outside of the room. He startles, Lori jumps, and they both look out to the hallway. 

“Hold on sweetie.” Lori says to him quietly, and she gets up.

There’s more shouting, and Carl wonders if maybe he’s imagining it because he’s starting to feel dizzy. 

Outside of the door he sees Shane deck Negan in the face, and oh fuck. No, no, no. Negan is his safety , his damaged mind screams at him, and if Negans not here, and Shane is-

He feels like his throat is closing up. Everything is hitting him at once. His dad, Lucille, Ron, Shane- he can’t breathe all of a sudden, and he feels panic hit him full force, because he can’t fucking breathe. His breath turns into gasps and he starts to claw at the sheets, at anything-

Lori screams at them, and then she turns back to face him. Her face changes from slight panic to full on panic.

“ Carl !?” She yells at him and flies over to him, putting her hands on either side of his face. 

“You two knock it the fuck off and act like adults!” She screams at Negan and Shane. 

“Carl, baby, breathe for me, okay?” Lori says to him, her voice panicky, but Carl feels like she’s a mile away and nothing is making sense and-

“What the hell’s going on with him?” He hears Shane bark as he comes into the room. 

“Just stop yelling and get a nurse Shane !” Lori yells frantically at him. 

Shane snaps back at her. “Calm down, he’s probably fuckin’ fine .” 

Carl wants it all to just stop. He’s so tired of everything. He wants everyone to stop yelling, he wants to be able to breathe and he can’t-

“Carl, look at me.” Someone says to him and he looks for the voice which is the literal only source of calmness in the room. It’s Negan. “Hey. Can you breathe for me?” The man says softly. And so Carl does and sweet, sweet air fills his lungs and he suddenly feels like his head is too full of oxygen and he feels dizzy but at least he’s breathing again and- 

“That’s it. Breathe. Breathe.” He lets Negans voice fill his thoughts, and he feels infinitely calmer. Until there’s another small clamor, and he hears Tara and his mom speaking in low tones next to him but he can’t make out what they are saying. He tries to focus on Negan, but when he sees Shane out of the corner of his eye his breathing speeds up again. He’s not sure how long it’s been now since he’s been trying to breathe normally. He’s only aware of the voices around him and how he wants everyone to leave, save for Negan. He wants the pain to stop, he wants to be left alone, he wants- 

“No, he doesn’t need that, he needs-” Negans voice, which now has a hint of anger in it, breaks through his thoughts, and he looks up at the man, confused. 

“You know I think it’s best if you take your ass outside.” He hears Shane snap at Negan. But Negan doesn’t seem to even hear him, because he’s only looking at Carl. And suddenly Carl feels so tired, and things are fuzzy again. He doesn’t know anything after that as the sedative starts to take its effect on him. 

***

The next few days for him are a painful, confused and angry blur. He’s been pumped full of so many painkillers and sedatives that he feels like he’s fighting to come up out of water. And just as he’s about to get air, they give him more despite his protests. They insist it’s for the best, but how the fuck do they know, he thinks. The morphine barely takes the edge off sometimes, and he feels like he just wants to jump out the window. 

Finally, a few days in, he feels like his head is clearer and the pain doesn’t feel like his head is being split in half. He hasn’t seen Negan, and he doesn’t have the energy to ask, but he knows it’s because Shane had probably told him that Carl was off limits. 

For the amount of time he’s spent in the hospital he knows what normal hospital hallway traffic is and he knows for certain that people are going out of their way to go by his room. Word must have spread that one of the surgeons sons shot some kids eyeball out and then killed himself. He doesn’t know what he thinks they’re going to see but everytime someone walks by he’s increasingly irritated. 

Physical therapists start coming to his room several times a day, explaining a lot all at once, that he doesn’t even care to know. They try to casually explain how his life will be different with one eye. He tunes them out a lot, because he’s just not ready to hear it. Some things will be the same they say, while some things will be almost impossible. Things like pouring a glass of water or tying his shoes are going to seem like monumental tasks, especially at first. Great. 

Visitors come in and out quite often. Enid and Alden are frequent flyers, and he always looks forward to seeing them. Beth even brings Judith by, and to his monumental relief his sister doesn't seem fazed at all by the bandages on his face. Michonne visits a lot when she’s working on his dads floor, and she never fails to put him at ease and usually she brings him something dumb from the gift shop like chocolate, which he always ends up splitting with her. 

***

Negan finally shows up a little too nicely dressed a few days later and he immediately knows why. Lucille's funeral. He has a fading bruise on his cheek that he can only assume was from Shane. 

His mom is at work- it was her first day back- and it’s one of the very first times Carls been alone since he’s been shot, so it’s just the two of them. Negan looks thoroughly exhausted, like he’s about to drop right there, and Carl's confused why he would drag himself here after such a draining day. 

“Couldn’t make small talk anymore with Uncle Andy about Lucille’s cooking or how much they all loved her but were too busy to come visit her this last year. Karen got a promotion and a trip to Tahiti, so that’s why she couldn’t make it to see her. Those people are friggin’ asinine .” 

Carl can’t help but agree that Karen must be a bitch. 

“Well, Aunt Karen sucks balls. Fuck her.” Carl says to him. Negan laughs, and that’s the extent of their conversation. 

“Is Officer fuckface around?”

Carl shakes his head and laughs. “Nope. If he comes by you can always just have Michonne help you shimmy out the window.” 

They sit in silence for Negans entire visit, watching a stupid rerun of a survivalist show where idiots are dropped off in the middle of nowhere for no reason. At least this isn’t the show where they are dropped off naked in the woods, Carl thinks. Fucking dumbasses. Not that he’s one to judge, he thinks, because he has negative zero survival skills himself. 

He realizes that he finds Negans presence very soothing - maybe it’s because he’s the one person who doesn’t feel the need to fill the space between them with endless questions and consolation and talking about nothing because they’re uncomfortable being stuck with that kid who just got his face shot off. The room seems very empty once he leaves. 

***

The only constant that remains over his hospital stay seems to be that he’s in pain, of some sort, at all times. The most severe of it comes and goes. One moment it’s fine, it’s barely noticeable, and the next he feels like he can’t breathe, like he can’t think, like it’s going to swallow him whole. The fact that he’s now one eye short is another thing entirely, and he hasn’t brought himself to really mull on that yet. He’s more focused on getting out of the hospital. In fact he hasn’t even seen himself yet. He just wants to go home. He wants his own bed, and he wants to just fade away and forget this ever happened. 

He hates it here. He hates the pitying looks he gets from everyone, and he feels like he’s under a microscope here. He just wants to go home and hide away, where he could be more than just the kid who got shot in the face by Dr. Andersons son. He thinks that one day when he gets out he’ll donate to rescue a monkey from the zoo, because he emphasizes it with it now. At least the damn monkey probably had two eyes and didn’t just have a catheter pulled out of them. 

***

Negan startles awake for the third time in as many days from a very vivid, very sexual dream about a certain someone who has completely and entirely taken over his thoughts, much to his dismay. He wonders how many spots in hell he has reserved for him. His wife had died less than two weeks ago, and here was this fucking barely legal beautiful eighteen year old clouding his every brain cell. What in the actual f uck was wrong with him. 

He couldn't deny that he was concerned about Carl. No one seemed to understand the kid at all, especially not Officer Dickbag, who he just wanted to throw into a meat grinder. Some days he convinced himself that he should distance himself from Carl- that he had no right getting involved with him, even on a friendly basis. But then, he would also convince himself that just being friends with Carl was rather harmless. And after everything the two of them had gone through they could both use a few friends. 

The dreams, though. The dreams were getting to be too much. Almost . For the third night in a row, dream Carl had shown up and had seduced him in some way. Negan tried telling himself it was just because he hadn’t had sex in so long- he was going on 5 months, for Christsake. It wasn’t like Lucille and him had had a lot of opportunities over these past months. 

Last night deam Carl had sucked him off for what felt like a good six hours. The night before that Negan had fucked him against the counter of the bar he had met him in. He woke up more than a little disappointed that the only one in the bed next to him was Fat Joey. Wait, wait, wait. Disappointed ? He was absolutely not having these thoughts about someone who was just barely old enough to not be jailbait. He was not disappointed, he was just…sexually frustated. 

He was grieving in strange ways. He was lonely. That had to be it. 

***

About a week and a half in Carl has a rather unexpected visitor. Jessie Anderson.  Jessie had moved out of their old home, not wanting to live in the place that now held so many terrible memories. Pete, thankfully, was still awaiting charges for his assault on her and she had a restraining order on him

“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me and I understand if you don’t. I just wanted to bring some things by- in case you did.” She says very meekly, standing in the doorway and looking at the sheets on his bed instead of him. If he was her he probably wouldn’t want to look at him either. Her face is somewhat healing- she’s at least recognizable now, and doesn’t look like someone took a meat tenderizer to her face. 

He sits up as much as he can, the sudden movement making him dizzy, but he still smiles at her warmly. “No, I’m uh- I’m glad you came.” 

“How are you feeling? You know what-” She shakes her head, almost like she’s laughing at herself, nervously. “That’s a rather ridiculous question. You just got shot, you’re obviously feeling terrible.”

He had always really liked Jessie. She was kind, and Ron never had a bad word to say about her to Carl. 

Carl just smiles sadly at her. “I’m…I’m doing alright. All things considered. How are you ?”

She shrugs. “Oh you know. Getting by, I suppose.” 

Jessie pulls a few things out of her bag. The first he recognizes- it’s a hoodie that he’d somehow always ended up with of Rons. 

“I saw you wearing this a lot. And I thought you might…I didn’t know. If you wanted any of his things-” she stumbles out awkwardly. “If you don’t want any of them I understand...I just…”

He gets that Jessie is mourning, but he doesn’t understand why she’s tiptoeing around him so much. And then it dawns on him. She must think he holds some ill will towards Ron for shooting him. He doesn’t, of course. He misses him more than anything. But, she had no way of knowing he didn’t want to piss on her sons grave for maiming him for life. 

“I do.” He says, interrupting her. “I do. ” And he smiles at her. 

She hands it to him with a smile, and he pulls the hoodie to him. It’s comforting in some odd way. 

She smiles back at him. “I’m so sorry sweetie. I’m so sorry about all of this. This was- you two are just kids. This should never have been put on you and Ron to deal with. I am so sorry. I should have stopped my husband a long time ago.” 

“He should have stopped himself.” Carl says simply. “Stop blaming yourself.” 

“When’d you get so smart for a teenager?”

“Probably around the time I lost an eyeball.” He shrugs and smiles at her.

She laughs at him, and puts her hand on his, and then goes back to her bag and pulls out a Polaroid photo. 

“This was in his drawer. Next to his bed.” He remembered Ron taking this. He had found a shitty old Polaroid camera and had snapped this dumbass photo of them. Carl was hiding his face in it because he was laughing so hard at Ron and calling him an idiot. Ron was just being obnoxious and was trying to kiss his cheek but Carl had pushed him away at the last second because he was laughing so much, and it ended up just being a blurry ridiculous mess. He had no idea Ron had kept it- he had told him to burn it. 

He feels a threatening tear, and he wills himself to swallow it down, because no, he is absolutely not crying in front of Jessie Anderson. He is not. 

Shit , he is. 

He sniffles a little, and looks up at her and she’s crying too. Shit, shit, shit. 

“Look at us sad saps together.” Jessie laughs. “He would laugh at us.’

Carl laughs back, and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, he would.” 

“I also… I bought these for Ron for Christmas.” She takes out a rather nice set of wireless headphones. “He never had a chance to use them. I just thought- I thought you must be a little bored here, and I know reading must be so hard. So, you know, headphones...” She shrugs and smiles at him a little awkwardly. 

“This is pretty much the nicest thing anyones done for me since I’ve been here Mrs. Anderson.” Carl says genuinely. 

“Carl, you can call me Jessie. You were having sex with my dead son, I think we’re past formatlities.” 

Carl laughs with her, actually really laughs for one of the first time since he’s been in the hospital. 

“I miss him. A lot.” Carl says truthfully, looking down at that dumb photo of him. “He was just so…” Carl trails off, not sure how to even describe him. 

“He was Ron.” Jessie says and Carl nods at her. “You meant so much to him, Carl.” 

“You knew about us? Like- before?” 

She nods. “Ron…he wasn’t good at secrets. But I knew though, even before he even told me. I could just tell.” 

Carl nods, and he’s happy that Ron had at least one person besides him to talk to. 

“I spent Christmas night with him and it was…honestly… It was the happiest I remember feeling in a long time.” 

They discuss Sam, and how he’s absolutely not handling things well, and Carl promises that once he’s out of the hospital he’ll come over to their new place. Any interaction he had with Sam always kind of made him want to jump off the nearest roof, but, well, he’s Rons brother, so he thinks he can suck it up. Jessie leaves not too long after, not wanting to overstay her welcome. But he feels a little more at peace, and like she had helped, in some way, say goodbye to Ron. 

***

Carl makes yet another appearance in Negans dreams for the fourth night in a row, but apparently he’s feeling less feisty tonight. They’re on the couch, and Carl is cuddled up in his arms. Negan is running a hand through his hair, and Carl just seems warm, and happy, and content . He doesn’t have that usual weight about him that he seems to carry with him everywhere. A weight that no one his age should have about them. He looks up at Negan suddenly and smiles. 

“It can always be like this, you know. If you stop fighting it.” Carl whispers to him. Negan lets himself run a hand through his hair again, and finally his hand settles on Carls cheek. 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“It can be.” Dream Carl says softly to him, and lays his head back down on Negans chest, letting out the most adorable little content huff that the man has ever heard. Yes, It could be , Negan tells himself in his dream. He doesn’t know why but he has such a strong urge to protect Carl at that moment. Wants to take away every single bit of pain, wants to make sure no one would ever hurt him again. 

“Carl?” He questions him, and Carl looks up at him with the deadest, saddest eyes and just stares at him. Negan reaches out a hand to him-

Fat Joey falls off the entertainment center with a thunk, and Negan considers murdering him for the 85th time that night. 

***

Carl is surprised, but happy, when Tara comes in to tell him that he’ll be going home this week. And by going home she means he’s taking half of the hospital pharmacy with him, and will be back for a ridiculous amount of physical therapy and to make sure his eye is healing. But, well. It’s a start. 

He picks up his phone and decides to send both Enid and Negan a quick, “ Guess who’s being released from prison this week? ” text. 

He sets his phone down on his chest but is surprised when it buzzes right away, and it’s Negan. 

“ Shane?” Is the man’s reply back and it makes him laugh. 

“ Haha dumbass. It’s me, your favorite convict.” 

“Oh thank god. Need some backup here at the house. Fat Joey and Simon miss you and are retaliating.” 

All of a sudden his phone is ringing and he’s annoyed because he’s sure it’s his mom, but it’s surprisingly Negan. 

“Hey what’s up?” He asks, trying to will his voice to sound as light as possible. 

“Nothin’. Just figured you’re probably bored outta you’re fuckin’ mind if you’re texting my old ass so I figured I’d give you a call.” 

“Not necessarily.” Carl says, smiling. “I mean, I have paint to watch peel from the ceiling. Everything’s going great here.” 

“Oh- well in that case I’ll let you get back to your paint watching since you’re so busy.”

“Ha. No really, though. This is awful. I can only make so much small talk with the night nurse before I wanna stab my other eyeball out.” 

“You can always make small talk with me . You know Daryl isn’t exactly a chatty Cathy, so my days are pretty bleak now.” 

Carl suddenly feels a little brave, but he’s so bored that he feels like he’s losing his mind, and so he asks the man a question that usually would be way out of his comfort zone. 

“Think you can come for a visit and sneak me in some food tonight? If I eat any more chicken here I think will actually die. Like, I feel fairly certain that I’ll pass away.” 

“Yeah, of course. Anything you want….I mean- as long as I'm not going to be escorted off the premises by a certain law enforcement officer.” Carl had been expecting some kind of pushback from the man, or a further joke, but his answer was oddly sincere and genuine and it threw him off. 

“Surprise me. And no, both my mom and him are at work tonight, so you’re in the clear. Just me and my little lonesome self up here...” Carl said. 

“Alrighty. Challenge accepted, my friend. I’ll be by after Daryl is finished being my slave driver.”

“Tell him not to work you too hard.”

“Tell him that yourself. Conditions are brutal here. Alright. Oh god, he’s glaring at me. He’s being all…Daryl. I’m gonna go before he shanks me.” 

“See you later?”

“It’s a date.” 

Carl hangs up the phone with a dumbass grin on his face, which he knows shouldn’t belong there but he can’t help it. So what if he was kind of flirting with Negan as a coping mechanism? There were worse things in life he could be doing. 

And anyways, even if the man had been genuinely hitting on him before Negan would absolutely not be interested in him now. He was a very damaged kid with a fucked up face. His opportunities from here on out were going to be pretty slim. So, what he was doing was harmless. 

***

Negan does show up as promised a few hours bearing a backpack full of…well Carl wasn’t sure what it was yet. 

“Here with your contraband, sir.”

“It’s not. I’m allowed to eat anything now, they said, since I’m going home.” 

“Way to suck the fun out of everything Carl.” 

Carl shrugs “What’d you bring me?”

“Exactly what I promised you I would.” Negan says with a grin that’s a little too smug. 

Carl just stares at him blankly, unsure what to expect, and then Negan pulls out the absolute last thing in the world he would expect. 

Fucking Olive Garden takeout. 

“You did not. ” 

“Oh, I did. ” Negan says triumphantly. 

“I hate you so much.” Carl says flatly, rolling his single eye at him. Only he swears he feels the nonexistent muscles in his missing eyeball roll too and…fuck, that actually really hurt. 

“No you don’t. I told you it was a date didn't I ?”

“Jesus Christ. Just gimme a breadstick, asshole.”

“Nah uh.” He holds the bag above him and Carl tries to grab it but, well, he has terrible depth perception now and misses completely. “Not with that attitude.”

“Oh come on.” Carl whines out. “That’s so unfair. I got shot in the face. Take some mercy on me.” 

“You’re gonna use that shit for the rest of your life with me, aren't you?”

Carl shrugs and grins at him. Negan is still holding that damn breadstick bag above him, and Carl takes another swipe. It’s unsuccessful, but all of a sudden he's extremely aware just how close he is to Negan, and apparently Negan does too because the man is staring at him, intently. Carls eye darts to Negans lips, and maybe he’s imagining it but Negans getting even closer, and then-

“Shit kid, if you wanted a breadstick that bad all you had to do was ask. Didn’t have to try and seduce me.” Negan chuckles out. 

Carl laughs, trying to play it off, and sits back, away from Negan and his very distracting self. “You wish.” He mumbles out with a smirk. 

Negan scoffs out a laugh but doesn’t take his eyes off Carl until for quite some time. 

**

Soon it’s the day. The day. He’s finally being allowed to go home. He’s learned in the last few days that even walking is a little different with one eye gone. Something about his gravity and equilibrium being fucked. 

The ride home is quiet, save for Judith babbling in the back. Carls is so relieved to breathe air that’s not being filtered a thousand times over through a stale hospital air vent that he feels almost high off of it. But he’s also nauseous, because for some reason seeing the movement outside of the car was just different now. He closes his eye and just wills them to be home soon, where he can climb up to his room and forget he exists. 

“I’m sorry I have to go into work tonight, honey. I wish I had more time off, but between everything that’s been going on…” His mom says rather sadly, halfway home, and she grabs his hand for just a quick second. 

Carl understands. And honestly, he doesn’t mind, because he’s absolutely desperate to be alone. He’s been cooped up in that hospital for too long, left frustrated and in pain with no way to relieve any of it. And Negans visits weren’t helping any- not that he would ever admit that to himself. He was eighteen for godsakes, and that hospital had been like being locked up in a convent. 

“Oh- it’s okay mom. I’ll be fine. Really.” 

“I know, but be sure to call if you need anything. I'll keep my phone on me all night and I’ll make sure to go over all your meds with Shane before I leave.”

“With- wait, what?” Carl stumbles out. What. 

“Shanes going to stay the night. Whenever I’m at work. You can’t be alone, honey- know I told you this before. And someone has to watch Judith.”

Oh. Oh, fuck. 

“He’s…going to stay the night- tonight?” He fumbles out again, dumbly. 

“He’s going to stay over whenever I’m at work. So a few days a week.” 

Carl feels panic rising a little. Okay, maybe a lot. 

“Look, baby, I know you two had a little rough patch, but he’s the only one that I felt comfortable asking, and he’s more than willing to stay over and help out. I just can’t afford to hire a babysitter for your sister right now, and you’re not even on your feet.”

Carl nods out, in almost a stupor. “Yeah. Yeah, no, no. It’s, uh. It’s fine. It’s fine.” 

It’s not fine. 

But it’s going to have to be. Because his mom was right- they really didn’t have anyone else. He tries to convince himself that he is just being ridiculous. Shanes been around since before he was born, and until a few weeks ago the man had never given him a reason to be nervous around him. Maybe he’s just remembering things differently, maybe in his haze of meds things got jumbled in his brain. 

Things would be fine. 

***

Negan jolts awake. His phone is ringing, and he looks at the time. 12:38am- what the actual shit. He’s annoyed immediately because god damn it, if it’s not Fat Joey it’s something else. He’d passed out in a drunk stupor after downing half a bottle of Jack Daniels and watching Breaking Bad. It hadn’t been a terrible Friday night. 

But he panics when he sees who's calling. 

“Carl?” He asks hesitantly when he picks up. 

It had been a relatively quiet week, at least as far as Carl was concerned. Carl had been home for about a week as far as he knew, and the kid had pretty much fallen off the radar as far as Negan was concerned. The man was giving him space so he hadn’t called, and Carl himself hadn’t really reached out. 

Only, when Negan picks up Carl doesn’t say anything. No one says anything, and he just hears a lot of static and background noise. He wonders vaguely if Carl had accidentally called him, though that seemed unlikely. More static. Something tells Negan not to hang up. 

And then he hears a voice that makes his stomach drop. It sounds muffled, far away, but it’s very unmistakably Shane. Only he’s using a tone that Negan certainly has never heard before and it makes his veins run ice cold.

“Go to sleep, Carl. You’re gonna feel so much better.” He hears Shane all but coo out. 

Negan sits bolt upright. No, no, no, no. 

“Carl?!” Negan yells into the phone, but there’s literally no response. He yells again, and it’s like he’s yelling into a void.  

“Shane, stop. I don’t usually feel like this, you gave me too much of something.” He hears Carl say in a pleading, almost desperate voice. And at that Negan shoots up out of bed and practically teleports to his closet and down the stairs. He doesn’t want to listen to this, he can’t-  

“Shh shh shh shh shh. It’s okay. ” Shane says in a voice that makes Negan actually want to throw up. 

“Shane, please.” Carls voice has gone up even a few more octaves in the desperate sound, and Negan feels himself panicking. 

“I know. I know, you want this, see? Just let it happen, Carl. Let it happen. God you look so much like your mother, you know that?” 

What the actual fuck is Negans first thought, but then that turns into where the fuck are they ? 

“If she comes home…”

Carl knows exactly what he’s doing, Negan realizes at that moment. He hadn’t called Negan by accident, he very much did this on purpose and he was dropping any hint he could to Negan. Shane had no fucking clue he had called him. Smart fucking kid. 

“She won’t, Carl. She won’t.” 

Chapter Text

That night finds him finally, finally back at home, and in his bed. At this point he would have taken a rock over anything in that hospital, but nothing could quite compare to the comfort of finally being back in his own room. Even with the threat of Shanes appearance lingering over his every thought, he still feels more relaxed here than he had the entire time in that overly sanitized hell hole.

He curls up, happy, and buries his head in his pillow. His pillow, thank god. In his bed, no Sharon the night nurse to tell him about her seven chihuahuas. 

And if he had to be honest with himself he’d never been happier to just be alone with his hand and some damn Vaseline. His thoughts cycle through what they usually do every night. And they slowly bring him back to what he tends to always land on. 

Stupid fucking Negan. 

And sure, he definitely has a one way ticket to hell because he’s thinking about a man whose wife died less than a month ago, but he figured god might throw him a bone after the literal shit storm he’s been through. 

He thinks of the mans stupid ass grin. Can actually hear him laughing, but then, Negans lips are pressed to the side of Carls neck and he can feel him smile against him. He’s in Negans bed again with him with Negan on top of him, and he’s nipping little bites into his neck and Carl's hands are wrapped around him, running through his hair, pulling him closer. It’s like time has slowed down, and Negan stares down at him and nips gently at his chin. 

“Want daddy to make you feel good, baby?” Negan murmurs into the crook of his neck and shoulder, biting him a little on the collarbone, and Carl is sure in that moment that he could get off on the man’s voice alone. Slowly, Negan makes his way down his chest, kissing him here and there, stopping at his stomach to suck little marks where he’s the most sensitive. “Fuck yes, daddy, please.” Carl whispers back. 

And in his own bedroom at home Carl feels some of the tension he had been holding on to leave him, and lets his hand slide down to his stomach, just above his waistband, right where he’s imagining Negan is. He’s home , he can relax , and draw this out as much as he wants to. 

Negan makes his way down to his thighs finally, so close to where Carl wants him but not quite there. Carl lets out a little huff, a soft little whine, because he wants to tell Negan exactly where he wants him. But he knows the man would take his time with him, tease him until he was begging for it. Again, he sucks little marks all over him, slowly. 

And then finally, finally Negan takes him in his mouth, and fuck it’s as good as he knew it would be. His hands thread through the man’s hair, and Negan looks up at him, his eyes locking on Carl. Suddenly the man hollows out his cheeks and Carl can’t even see straight. He can’t stop himself- he's pushing him down, making sure Negan takes all of him, his cock hitting the back of the man’s throat. Negan groans around him, sending little vibrations through Carl that make him moan-

“ Carl ?” There’s a knock on the door and Carl nearly levitates off his damn bed. It’s Shane. 

Oh for fucks sake. 

He’s tempted to actually take his pillow and smother himself with it. For a moment he considers acting like he’s sleeping, but then the man knocks again, and he gets up in a huff, doing whatever he can to hide the obvious. 

“ What ?” He asks, rather flatly, opening the door. 

“Just saying hi.” Shane says, almost sheepishly, his hand on the back of his neck, leaning on the doorframe. “Good to be home?”

Carl nods quickly. “Uh. Yep. Just tired.” 

“Alright. Well, here. Got you some pizza.”  Shane hands him what looks to be a very fresh slice of pepperoni pizza from Glenn’s parents' shop along with a coke and he’s a little shocked. 

“Oh. Uh. Thanks.” He says, sort of sincerely. This was weird. 

“Just happy to have you back on your feet, Carl. Let me know if you need anything, alright?” 

“I-okay. Thanks.” He says quietly before closing his door. 

He doesn’t hear from Shane for the rest of the night. But knowing the man is in the house now is enough to set him on edge. All he does after Shanes appearance is watch shitty TV and let himself drift off from his pain and sleeping meds. Despite Shane being there he still gets a very solid night of sleep. 

***

The next day is strangely nice. Beth comes over to watch Judith so Lori can sleep off her night shift, and Carl makes his way downstairs to finally spend time with his sister. She’s curious about the bandage on his face, as any infant would be. 

“Well he’s a pirate, silly.” Beth tells Judith, and puts on the Veggie Tales pirate video, and Judith is absolutely delighted. She has absolutely no idea what a pirate is, but apparently she finds them funny. She’s sitting up now, and is on the verge of crawling. 

Negan even texts him that day to tell him that Fat Joey beat him in beer pong. Carl asks when the cat grew opposable thumbs and Negan responds by challenging him to a game of beer pong on their phones, and that was enough to occupy him for at least an hour or so. He may have lost an eye, but apparently one measly eye was still good enough for phone pong because he beat Negan two out of three times. 

The thoughts that had plagued him the entire time in the hospital- the bitterness towards the hospital staff that had saved his life- start to dissipate a little. But he still has such a strong tug to go to the hospital and sit down with Lucille and tell her all about Judith’s antics, or to call Ron and just go over there to play video games with him to take his mind off things for a minute. Because sometimes he just forgets.   

***

Things continue on rather quietly for the next day, which Carl is absolutely not complaining about. His mom is off that night, and she makes dinner and cookies (which she burns- both the dinner and the cookies- but Carl doesn’t even care) and things almost seem normal despite the fact that he’s missing one eye and his dads in a coma. 

That all changes though the next evening. 

Carl's laying on the couch watching a shitty show about a zombie apocalypse that should have ended like 5 seasons ago when the main protagonist's son died (but hey that was just his lowly opinion), when Shane comes over. He chats with Lori until she goes to kiss Carl goodbye and then she’s out the door. 

“Whatcha doin’?” Shane asks him as he sits down next to him. In Rick's chair. Carl chooses not to comment and he just lazily keeps watching. 

“Here.” Shane hands him a glass of water and two pills. 

“Uh-” He's confused, because Lori had given him his medicine for the evening already. “I think I took everything I needed for the night. But thanks.”

“No, your mom said she forgot to give you this before.”

“Oh.” He turns the pill over in his hands but eventually takes it. He couldn’t keep track of everything they had him on. Some of it was for pain. Some for anxiety. Some for inflammation. Some to cut the risk of infection. Some for sleep. It was all too much to remember. 

Another thing that he doesn’t remember though is falling asleep that night, or exactly how he ends up in his bed. When he wakes up around 4am he feels very lost, and almost drunk. He falls back asleep and by morning he doesn’t even give it a thought, since he feels fairly shitty all around, but chalks that up to the fact that he basically always feels shitty now all around. 

***

Shane comes over for dinner the next night. It ends up being a surprisingly pleasant affair, and Shane recounts the time him and Rick took Carl to a baseball game and lost him when he was eleven. Carl hadn’t given a shit that he was lost and instead of panicking he found himself sitting two rows behind home plate, and eating cotton candy. I was just walkin’ around and someone asked me if I was with the ‘Make a Wish’ kids, and I just said I was and I don’t know, I just ended up here! He had told them innocently. It took a lot of explaining on Rick and Shane’s behalf to prove that no, Carl did not have a debilitating life ending disease, he was just a shit head. Carl wasn’t grounded on the condition that he never told Lori that he was lost for 45 minutes and was promptly taken in as a charity case. 

Lori laughed so hard at dinner that she cried, because it was of course her first time hearing the story since Rick had sworn Shane to secrecy. 

But yet again, Carl feels an overwhelming exhaustion come over him about a half hour after Shane gave him his meds once they finished dinner. His mom had just left for work. He was laying on the couch because walking upstairs seemed impossible right now, and he feels like the furniture is actually going to swallow him whole. His pain meds usually hit him hard, but not this hard. 

He looks at the television but he can’t concentrate on it well. It normally hurt a little to look at the tv since he was still adjusting to having one eye and all, but this was something seemingly entirely different. 

“Hey, Carl, you good?” Shane asks him. Only it’s as if Shane was far away and he has to work really hard to put the words together. Shane puts a hand on his forehead, and Carl tries to move away but he feels like he’s moving in slow motion. 

“Shane, stop.” He mumbles out. 

“Shh. I’m just making sure you’re okay.”

“M’fine.” He tries to get up because he is absolutely not sleeping on the couch with Shane so close by, but it’s like his body has actually become one with the couch and his head is too heavy to lift. 

“You tired?” Shane asks and then the man puts a hand on his cheek, and Carl wants to jump out of his skin, only he’s completely stuck. It’s one of the most helpless feelings ever. 

“Shh, Shh.” Shane says to him, running a hand through his hair. Everything in him is telling him to get up, to leave, but he can’t. And before he knows it, he’s falling asleep, even if every alarm bell possible in his head is being set off. 

***

For the 2nd time that week Carl wakes up the next morning confused as to how he got in his bed. He rolls over and he notices something weird. The other side of his bed is all ruffled, the comforter pulled back and his pillows are all of out of place like someone had slept there. Only he knows it hadn’t been him. 

His head hurts. His nonexistent eye hurts. He’s confused. He feels like he’s slowly losing it. He doesn’t understand why he keeps fading off at night like this, why he can’t remember things, why it seems like days are starting to blur together. It takes him quite awhile to pull himself out of bed, but once he does he still feels like he’s moving in slow motion. He chalks it up to just being home, and adjusting to life with a giant piece of his face missing. 

Without meaning to he falls asleep around noon again,  and when he wakes up he’s confused and has no idea what day it is. He comes down to his mom sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Hey you. I was just about to wake you up.” She says with a warm smile. 

“What’s up? Where’s Judith?”

“Beth took her for a bit. I got your favorite.” She walks over to the counter and there is indeed a bag of burgers and fries and a chocolate milkshake from his favorite burger place in town. 

“What’s the occasion?” He asks with a confused grin as he sits down. 

“Nothing. I just…I don’t feel like I’ve spent any time with you.“ She kisses his forehead and goes to sit down across from him.

“You sat with me in that hospital for like two weeks, mom.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Oh that doesn’t count. I just wanted to see you for a bit. Just you. I know the last few…months… haven’t been easy, but.” She folds her hands. “I talked to your teachers.”

“Oh?” 

“They said you were doing exceptionally well before. So well that they don’t feel like you need to make up the last month. I…went and picked up your books and everything. And they’re okay if you finish the rest of the semester at home. Unless you want to go back, of course.” 

Carl is quiet as he mulls over what she’s said. 

“I…don’t know.” Because he truly doesn’t know. Lori just smiles at him, and he understands without words that she’s not pressuring him either way. 

“You don’t have to decide now. But. The option is there. They didn’t want you to be…distracted with going back and focusing on school, and trying to catch up.” 

Didn’t want to distract the rest of the school with the one eyed kid was more like it, he thinks bitterly. So actually, he really does know the answer. 

“I don’t really want to go back, no. If I can do the rest from home, that’d be…great.” 

“Okay sweetie. I think that’s a good idea. They asked about college, too. I know that’s a lot to throw at you.”

Shit . College. He hadn’t even thought about that in the last few weeks, and his expression must have made it obvious. 

“You don’t have to think about it today. But. Just promise me you will think about it.” 

He nods, and smiles at her. “I will. I promise.” 

She’s quiet for a moment, but Carl knows she’s about to ask about something else entirely. 

“Have you been…okay…otherwise?” 

“Yeah? I guess?” He says, uncertainly. 

“Listen, honey, I know you never talked to me about Ron really, but. I just. I know how hard losing him must have been, and…if you want to talk about him, or anything…” She drifts off, and he’s feeling like she’s not actually asking what she wants to. “Why did you never tell me about the two of you before?“ There’s the question he’d been waiting for. 

“I uh. I don’t know.” He says lightly, but he does know. There’s not an overly easy way to just go, hey mom, I’m gay, when your dad is the sheriff of a small, very conservative town in Georgia . “I guess I just wasn’t sure if you guys would be okay with it?” 

Lori just smiles warmly at him, and puts her hand on his from across the table. 

“Okay with you and Ron being together, or okay with the fact that you may not like girls?”

He grins back at her. “Uh…. Both, I guess?” 

“Oh honey. I’ve known for a long time.” She says, running her thumb over his hand. 

“You did?” 

“I’m your mother. You think I can’t read you like a book?” 

He smiles at her again. “Sorry. I just…I didn’t know what you would think.” 

“I don’t think anything. We didn’t think anything. We just want you to be happy. Bringing home Ron was no different than you bringing home a girl.” 

“Dad knew?” Carl asks, a little surprised, and maybe a little hopeful. He never knew what his dad would think of him if he knew. 

She nods, smiling at him again warmly. 

“Yeah, he did sweetie. Or- he does. He knows.” She corrects herself. “We both agreed not to push it- figured you’d talk to us when you were ready. But again, we just want you to be happy.”  

“Thanks mom.” He says, very sincerely, and he hugs her.

“I love you so much, baby. And I’m so sorry about everything.” She puts her hands on his face. “I'm so, so proud of you.  Your dad would be too. I promise I’m going to try and make things better for you, okay?”

Carl nods, and smiles at her because he feels that familiar tightness in his throat. 

***

“Hey, mom?” He says as they finally eat. “I think somethings wrong with one of the meds they have me on. It’s…I don’t know, I haven’t felt right the last few days.”

“Oh-” Lori says, her face a little mix of concern and confusion. “You want me to call your doctor? What’s going on?” 

Carl shrugs. “I think maybe they're just too much. I keep falling asleep and not really remembering anything.” 

Lori looks at him for another moment before she speaks. 

“Well. You are on a lot, sweetheart. If you drop anything I just don’t want you to be in pain. They put you on all that for a reason.”

“I’m not. It’s okay, really. I just don’t like feeling drunk all the time.” 

Lori kisses him on the forehead and promises to call his doctor the next day. 

***

Despite the relatively idyllic afternoon he had, he knew his mood would change as soon as Shane arrived. He purposely took all his meds, except for something they had him on for sleep, before he arrived. So far, he didn’t feel off anymore than he usually did. His mom left for work after she put Judith down to bed, and it left just Shane and him in the living room. 

“Hey, wanna watch a movie?” Shane asks as he walks in, sitting down in his usual spot of Ricks chair. Carl momentarily wonders from his spot on the couch if he glares over at the man enough if it was possible for Shane, or the chair, to spontaneously combust from the amount of annoyance he felt. 

“Um. I’m kinda tired, but…” 

“Oh come on, it’ll be like old times.” Shane encourages him in that usual ‘ I’m your best friend not the guy who fucked your mom and got her pregnant’ voice. 

Carl considers it. He was already down here, and he was getting rather bored of his room.

“Mmm. Okay.” 

His answer seems to excite Shane a little too much. 

“See? That’s the spirit. Whatcha wanna watch? You want popcorn?” 

Shane was trying way too hard. 

“Sure.” Carl says simply, thinking it was just better to agree with whatever Shane said. 

They’d just finished The Boondock Saints when Shane gets up and goes to the kitchen, and Carl hears the unmistakable sound of pill bottles. He sits up and looks over at Shane in the kitchen, who has his back to him but he’s definitely got Carl's vast collection of pill bottles all out. 

It clicks with him then. He had felt fine all afternoon . The only two times he hasn’t felt fine were when Shane gave him his meds.

Shane makes his way over with a collection of pills. 

Carl sits up and shakes his head. “Oh- I took everything before. I’m fine.” 

“That’s not what your mother said.” Shane says, a little too firmly. 

“My mother wouldn’t know because she doesn’t police my every move.” Carl bit back, with more than a hint of annoyance. 

“Carl- I’m just looking out for you. These meds, they fuck with your head. Make you lose track. You might think you took them already but you don’t always remember things well on all this shit.”

“I took my meds. Today, at 6.” He says firmly. “ I know I did. I’m not losing track of shit.” 

“Watch your mouth when you talk to me Carl.” 

He knows what he wants to say but also that he shouldn’t but he can’t stop himself- 

“If I don't, are you just gonna choke me out like you did last time?” 

Shanes face clouds over in anger but still Carl doesn’t feel the need to just shut up despite the fact that he’s not exactly in a position to mouth off to a man who could have killed him a few weeks ago. 

“See.” Shane starts. “See this is exactly the kind of shit I’m talking about. You’ve turned into a disrespectful little twink and Rick was way too fuckin’ soft with you. You think he woulda been proud of you knowing you were runnin’ around fuckin’ that Anderson boy? We did not raise you like that. I’m glad he’s not here to see what a fucking disappointment you turned out to be. Now. You are going to listen to me and take these.” 

Carl shakes his head firmly, his head swimming with Shanes words. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance if he retaliates but he wasn’t going to just let Shane overdose him for no reason. 

Shane grabs his jaw and pulls him forcibly closer to him, and Carl can’t help but yelp a little at the sudden pain that’s radiating from the force being put on his still healing face. The man is on his knees now next to him on the couch, glaring at Carl with red hot anger clearly written on his face. 

“You take these. Now . Or I will make you take them.” 

Carl shakes his head again, but Shane’s gripping him so tight that when he does the mans nails dig into his chin. 

“Last chance Carl.” Shane growls out. “You don’t take these? I can make more than sure that dear ol Rick never wakes up to see what a disappointment you are.”

No no no no. This was not happening. He feels frantic, he feels trapped. 

Shanes pressure on his jaw increases so much that Carl is forced to open his mouth. He isn’t sure how many pills Shane puts in his mouth, only that he knows that Shane probably has no idea what he’s already taken and how much could actually kill him. 

As soon as the pills are in his mouth Shane jumps up on the couch, straddling Carl so that he’s sitting right on his chest. Shane clamps his hand over his mouth and his other hand goes to Carls neck, putting pressure on exactly where he had hurt his collarbone before. A low whine of pain escapes him and he tries to get away but there’s nowhere to go. 

“Now you swallow those.” Shane says firmly. He puts pressure on his neck at that, and the hand over Carl's mouth just gets tighter. Carl knows there’s no way out. It’s a ridiculous amount to dry swallow, and for one second he feels like he’s going to gag everything up but the look in Shane’s eye makes him swallow them as they burn his throat. 

He coughs, and Shanes hand slaps him lightly on the cheek and the man grins at him, still keeping the hand on Carls mouth. 

“That’s right. You love this shit, I know you do. You’re a little spitfire, just like your momma. And I bet you suck cock just as good as your momma does, too .” He whispers out and he kisses Carls neck as he holds him down. 

Everything crumbles in him at that moment. Before now, there was a chance that Carl was reading everything wrong, and Shane wasn’t thinking of him like that. That Carl just had the wrong idea. But when those words come out he knows instantly. He knows, and a choked sob escapes him, surprising him. All of the fight leaves his body, because he knows what’s about to happen here. 

“Shane .” It leaves him as a strangled, muffled sob, and Shane finally moves his hand away from his mouth. “It’s me.” He says softly, hoping, praying to appeal to the man’s senses in some way. “It’s me. It’s Carl. Please.” It’s me, he wants to scream at him. It’s me. The little kid who had hero worshipped him his entire life. Who Shane taught to ride a fucking bike. And then how to drive, because Rick was too nervous. Me.  Your godson. 

He doesn’t understand why Shane would suddenly think of him like this. How he could suddenly thing about him like this. His mom. Is this all because of his mom- 

A strong wave of nausea hits him at the thought, and he just whimpers and he feels completely defeated. 

“Shane, please.” He says quietly one more time.

“Shhh. Just relax, Carl.” Shane runs a hand through his hair. “You know I loved your hair long. Long, beautiful hair just like her. But you couldn’t let me have that, either, could you? Had to cut it?”

An exhaustion spreads over Carl suddenly, but he still feels like he at least has his senses. He tries to calm himself. He tries to think of anything that’s not here. He thinks to the stupid movie he had been watching, and to the ridiculous game of beer pong on his phone that he had been playing Negan at while they watched it. 

And just like that something occurs to him. His phone. It’s still on the couch, he can feel himself on it. He just has to distract Shane for even a second. But he knows there was no way the man was going to just leave him here if he thought Carl was still capable of sprinting off the couch the second he had the chance. 

So against everything, Carl forces himself to make his body go slack. He relaxes, even if everything is screaming against him not to do so. He tries to convince himself that the normal high he feels when the drug hits him is there already. It will be, soon, he knows, and he only has so long until he’s out because he knows Shane has given him too much. 

“Shane?” He says softly. 

Shane sits up, still straddling him, but now gazing down at him, and Carl makes himself look up at him, trying to force his eye to go a little lazy. 

“Can I have some water?” He rasps out.”My throat just hurts a little.” 

Shane took his hand and massaged it down Carls throat.

“Of course.” Shane says, a little too gently. He runs his hand down his cheek, looking at Carl very possessively. All of a sudden, he bends down and rides Carls shirt up, and kisses him right above his waistband. It takes everything in Carl not to jump out of his skin. Instead, he just lays there, and forces himself not to react. He just needs Shane gone for two seconds. 

He knows this likely won’t work. Knows a multitude of things would have to happen perfectly for it to work. But, it’s worth a shot. The second he hears Shane hit the kitchen floor he grabs his phone from underneath him, turns the speaker volume down so if by some miracle the man did pick up Shane wouldn’t know, and hits Negans number from his last message that he had sent to them with their dumbass beer pong game. 

Shane walks in just as Carl has the phone tucked beneath him. He offers Carl the glass of water soundlessly, and Carl makes a show out of trying to sit up and drink it, wanting Shane to think he was weaker than he really was. 

Shane runs his hand through Carls hair again, and he looks at him. “Go to sleep, Carl. You’re going to feel so much better.” Shane says softly to him. But Carl knows if, on the off chance that Negan is listening, he needs to make it clear to the man what's going on. 

“Shane, stop. I don’t usually feel like this. You gave me too much of something.” Carl starts to plead with him, starts to put an edge of desperation in his voice, both hoping to appeal to Shane but also hoping that Negan was listening and could sense his panic. But then, right then, the drugs seem to hit him, and he feels that familiar sensation as his veins seem to pull him into slow motion suddenly. His body feels instantly heavier. 

“Shh shh shh shh shh. It's okay. “ 

“Shane, please.” He pleads out, making himself sound somehow even more desperate. 

But Shane twists his words. “I know, I know, you want this, see?” Shane says to him softly. “Just let it happen, Carl. Let it happen. God, you look so much like your mother, you know that?” Shane grins down at him and Carl wants to actually throw up. 

“What if she comes home?” is the only thing he can think of, to somehow tip off Negan if he was listening as to where they were.

“She won’t, Carl. She won’t.” 

Carl feels himself slipping finally. He doesn’t know exactly how much he’s had, but he knows it’s too much. He’s scared suddenly. That maybe he’ll die. That maybe Shane totally overdosed him. And he realizes that despite all those thoughts, he didn’t really want to die. He didn’t. He wonders if Negan had picked up- doubtful. It was late, and he was probably sleeping, or doing whatever he did on a Friday night at midnight. 

He feels himself start to drift, and he thinks to Negan, and just hopes on everything that the man had picked up. 

Chapter Text

The drive over is both excruciatingly slow yet also seems to fly by. A small, almost twisted part of Negan doesn’t want to pull in that driveway. He doesn’t want to know why Carl had that pleading, desperate sound to his voice. 

He understands he doesn’t know Carl that well. That he was just some kid he’d met in passing a few months ago, but for some reason it felt like the universe was smacking him in the head over and over again with Carls presence in his life. It wasn’t something he could ignore any longer. He had feelings towards that damn kid who had captivated him from the moment he saw him. He just wasn’t quite sure what those feelings were. Either way, something had gone terribly wrong between him and Shane and he wasn’t going to sit by and let him get hurt yet again.

His stomach drops as he pulls in the driveway and sees a truck that he assumes is Shanes. Before he gets out of his truck he grabs the gun he had stashed in the glove box, and prays he doesn’t have to use it. He runs up and he’s just about to pound on the door when he realizes that’s a stupid ass idea. If Shane is in there with Carl he sure isn’t going to just waltz on over and open the door, especially not for Negan. 

So he doesn’t even try the front. He runs around the back and is surprised, but relieved to find a door with panes that he can easily break to get to the handle. He takes off his coat and wraps his hand in it before punching through the glass. He’d only done this once before in his life and he’d been drunk, and it ended up doing this sober hurt immensely more. He has half a mind to try and be stealthy with opening the door, but he reasons he already has caused enough ruckus, so the stealthy ship has long sailed. He steps into the kitchen of the Grimes’ home and for just one second things are too quiet. 

But no sooner is he in the door than he’s met with a very belligerent Shane, who’s running into the kitchen. He’s a mess, eyes wild and he just seems all out of sorts. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Shane shouts at him as he rounds the corner, and onto what must be the startling sight of Negan breaking into their otherwise sleepy little house. 

Without even thinking, Negan throws himself into Shane and slams him into the wall, his one hand going to his throat. Negans not exactly a small guy, but he also knows that Shane could very easily get the jump on him, so he’s leveraging the surprise element as much as he can- and it works, because he’s able to successfully pin him to the kitchen wall. 

“Where is he?” Negan growls out. “And do not play dumb with me.” 

“Who- Carl?“ Shane asks almost nonchalantly, as Negan pushes a hand into his throat even more. The relatively neutral tone of Shane’s voice unnerves Negan to no end. 

”He’s sleeping. Or he was, til you busted in here breaking doors and shit in the middle of the night. I’m a cop, I could shoot you right now.”

Negan scoffs at that and gives him a little push into the wall even more. “Yeah- you go right ahead and do that.” 

Negan squeezes his throat even a little tighter. “This make you feel like a man’s man when you did this to that kid?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shane growls out, though his voice is getting tighter since Negans hold is getting stronger. 

“Uh huh. I figured you would pull this shit. I’m gonna ask you one more time, what did you do to him, and where is he?” 

But at that exact moment Shane does get the jump on him and wriggles his way out from Negans arms by twisting just right and gets Negan in a headlock. He assumes Shane has done this before, being a cop and all, and his agility and training shows. 

But cop or not, in that moment Negan doesn’t give a shit. He doesn’t see Shane as anything other than a predator, a threat to a kid who can’t protect himself (and who shouldn’t have to protect himself). Negan makes a split second decision that he knows he’ll probably regret later. He grabs his gun that he had in his waistband, which is a feat given the position Shane has him in, and rather awkwardly brings it down on the mans skull as hard as he can. The angle was awful, but it works and he feels Shanes grip relax on him and suddenly he’s deadweight on him. Negan twists out of his arms and the other man falls to the ground with a very hard thump. 

He gives Shane one last look before he turns around and sees the hallway that must lead to the rest of the house, and he just prays that he read the situation all wrong. Which, wouldn’t be great for him at this point considering he had just assaulted a police officer and all, but at least it would mean Carl is safe. He only has to take a few steps into the living room to know that he hadn’t been wrong. 

The sight of Carl makes his stomach absolutely turn. He’s laying on the couch, on his back, no shirt, his arm flopped off the couch like it’s deadweight. He looks paler than normal- and well, that was saying something. And though his jeans are still on his belt is undone and Negan almost doesn’t want to walk closer. He forces himself over and once he's next to him he puts his hands on either side of Carls face. Carls eye is open, but barely, and it's unfocused and staring at the ceiling. Negan can tell he’s fighting just to stay in the half dazed state that he’s in. 

“Hey. Hey kid, it’s me.” He says very gently. 

He shakes him a little, hoping to wake him up even a little and then runs a hand over his forehead, but Carl gives almost no indication that he knows Negan is even there. But finally he feels Carl's hand wrap around his wrist very weakly, and Carl just gives him a look and he knows that a very small part of him is in there and he’s aware that Negans there. 

“Yeah it’s me. It’s me, you’re gonna be fine, okay? I got you. I got you.” He mumbles out, not even sure what he’s saying at this point. 

Carl doesn’t say anything, but a small little almost whimper escapes from the back of his throat. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Carl, what did he give you?” Negan asks him, which he knows is almost pointless at this stage because Carl can barely keep his eye open, let alone form a coherent sentence. Carls words on the phone drift through his thoughts again- I don’t usually feel like this, you gave me too much of something. He’s trying to keep his voice as calm as possible but internally Negans panicking. He knows what he has to do before Carl completely loses consciousness. 

Negan picks him up and pulls him down to the floor, into his lap, and turns him over so he’s facing the ground. He has to get whatever he can out of his system before his only choice is to take him to the hospital. Which he wants to avoid at all costs-  because he knows Carl is right about Shane. If he took him to the hospital right now somehow this would be twisted back onto Carl in some way. There would be questions that no one would believe the answers to, and Carls had been through enough at that godforsaken hospital. 

“ Fuck- I’m sorry, kid.” And Negan sticks a finger down his throat as far as he can and Carl immediately gags and is sick, bringing up the majority of what’s in his stomach, coughing and clawing at Negan to get him to stop, but he’s too weak to really push away from him. 

“Stay with me, okay?” He tells him as Carl coughs weakly, and he runs a hand over his forehead again. It’s obvious that Carls is on the very edge of nodding off, but he doesn’t want to risk him choking. 

“It’s alright, I got you.” He repeats and murmurs to him though he knows Carl is probably too far gone to even hear him. 

Once he feels like Carl has gotten at least some of the drugs out of his system he picks him up, and gives one last glance over at Shane. He can’t find the kids shirt anywhere, so he just scoops him up and throws his jacket on him. In the process he sees Carls phone on the couch, and he pockets it since he’s going to have to make a call soon that he’s already dreading- to Lori. 

Because he knows what a fucking scene this is going to look like, or at least what it looks like now. Shane passed out, furniture askew, a pile of lovely vomit in the middle of the living room, the kitchen door shattered, her son gone. He wonders how things got so bad so fast for this relatively normal family- or if maybe Carl's life had always been this much of shit show. 

By the time he picks Carl up the kid is really nodding off, and Negan hopes that whatever he got out of his system was enough. But for now he just needs to make sure he gets Carl out of here so he can sleep this off. He needs to get him away from Shane. 

As carefully as he can he puts Carl in the back seat of his truck and makes sure that he’s breathing. He’s finally fallen completely asleep, but his breathing is about as steady as it can be. He ends up pulling over twice to make sure the kid is still alive on the short drive to his house, and again, he wonders if he is in fact making the right decision about taking him to his house and not the hospital .

***

Once they’re home, Negan makes a rather awkward and fumbled call to Lori from Carls emergency contacts. He explains simply that Carl had called him to pick him up because Shane and him had a fight, and that while Carl was safe Lori should probably head home to check on Judith. Lori frets, and wants to come pick Carl up, and asks a whole lot of meaningless questions, but Negan assures her that he’s fine, and he’s sleeping. 

And to Lori's credit, she does seem to trust him. She has absolutely no reason to- Negans a stranger who’s taken a peculiar interest in her son, so really he can’t blame her for any hesitation she might feel towards him. But then again, maybe Loris between a rock and hard place and he’s forced her hand. She’ll just have to trust that Carl is safe with him, because Judith is her priority right now. 

Carl sleeps heavily, which isn’t a surprise given the amount of drugs in his system. Negan had laid him in his bed, and had found the most comfortable hoodie he had and dressed him in it. Finally, he sits down next to him and rubs a hand over his own face, replaying the whole fucked up night. 

He takes a minute and looks over at Carl, and notices his breathing seems to have slowed. He pulls him into his lap and his hand immediately runs over the kids face and his hair, trying to rouse him. Shit. Should he have taken him straight to the hospital? 

It only takes a second for him to notice with the new proximity to him that Carl is in fact breathing, just a little more shallow than before. He doesn’t know if that’s normal, or if that’s just from the kid being completely overdosed. 

Either way, he knows he’s not sleeping tonight. 

***

Carl wakes up with his head pounding and the usual feeling that his brain weighs a million pounds. His eye is throbbing, and so is his face and well, everything hurts . Not that this was anything new- it’s becoming a rather consistent feeling every time he wakes up. He buries himself into his pillow, not wanting to wake up quite yet. 

Only- his bed feels different. His pillow feels different. It smells different. He can’t quite remember what happened last night, and he tries to get his thoughts straight. 

Shane had been over… shit. Shane. His stomach drops out and he all of a sudden realizes there’s a hand. In his hair. And he freezes. No, no, no, no. He lays there, not wanting to move, not wanting to think, because he knows it’s Shane, and- 

“Carl.” A voice says very softly above him. Only it's not Shane voice. 

He doesn’t breathe. He figures maybe he’s hallucinating, that his brain is filling in the blanks with someone he actually wants to be around. Maybe Shane did overdose him and he’s dead. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad if he was.  

“Hey - Carl.” The voice says again, more insistent. And that voice is definitely Negans. Even though his head feels like it’s dead weight he slowly lifts it, peeking open his eye. 

The first thing he sees isn’t Negan though, but a big giant orange blob of fur. Fat Joey. Fat Joeys tail whips out suddenly and smacks him in the face.

“ Git.” Negan pushes the cat away and Carl rubs a hand over his face to get some of the fur off.

“Hey.” The man says with a smile. Negan doesn’t quite look like himself. He has ridiculous bags under his eyes and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks exhausted , and like he’s aged overnight. 

Carl just closes his eye and rubs it, shaking his head a little to try and clear it. His thoughts are still spinning and he doesn’t really know how he ended up here. Suddenly, it dawns on him. 

“It worked?” Carl says, opening his eye again, shocked. “You-? What happened?” 

“You happened. You called me.” 

“And you picked up?” Carl says, shocked. 

“Appears so.” Negan says gently. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. You’re a smart little shit, you know that?” 

“I didn’t think it would work.”  Carl repeats in disbelief. 

“Well. It did.” 

Carl looks at him and is quiet for a moment. What had happened? Does he want to know? 

“Is- did you see Shane?” And then he has another thought entirely. Shit. Judith. “Where’s my sister?” 

“I called your mom. After I got you out of there-"

“Did she go get her?” He interrupts, panicking at the thought of Judith alone with Shane. 

“Shit, kid, I don’t know. She ain’t my kid, I did what I could and called your mom, alright?” 

Carls face turns into a strange expression, and Negan backtracks a little. 

“Look, my only concern was you . I assume she’s fine, and that your mom went right there- what, you really think Shane would hurt her?”

Carl just shrugs. “I didn't think he’d try anything with me before, but look where that got me.” 

Negan softens at that, and he’s reminded of just how fucked up this situation is. 

“Here.” Negan hands him a glass of water, which Carl gladly takes. 

Carls quiet for a moment, rubbing at his eye and trying to sort

through the jumbled mess of thoughts he has.

“What do you remember, Carl?” Negan finally asks him what he’s been wanting to this entire time. 

Carl looks at him, trying to piece together everything- but it’s so fuzzy. 

“I don’t…know.” He says truthfully. He closes his eye tightly again, almost wanting to go back to sleep, but then he hears Negan let out a sigh next to him. He feels like things are moving slower than normal, and like about to fall asleep again. 

A hand is on his shoulder suddenly, and he jumps, blinking his eye open. 

“Sorry.” Negan mumbles out. “I know how out of it you have to feel, but I just gotta make sure you’re alright.” 

Carl nods, his eye falling on his sleeve, and he realizes he’s not wearing his own clothes. He looks down, confused. He’s in a black hoodie that’s about 2 sizes too big that he’s drowning in, and it’s undeniable that it must be Negans. Only he absolutely does not remember putting anything like this on last night. Normally, he wouldn’t exactly complain about wearing the man’s clothes but this was not normal circumstances. 

“Sorry.” The man repeats. “Comfiest thing I had that I thought may sort of fit you. But you kind of just look like a drowned rat.” He chuckles lowly, but it’s rather uncomfortably. 

“What happened last night?” Carl asks, softly. 

“Well. A lot. What is the last thing you remember?” The man questions gently. 

Carl wracks his brain. His confused, jumbled mess of a brain. 

“Shane. Um. He tried to make me take pills. That I didn’t need. I’d already…already taken them.” 

“Shit.” Negan sighs out, because that’s what he had guessed. “Has he done that before?”

Carl is silent. For a long time, willing his brain to work.

“I think so.” He finally says, in a very small voice, but not looking at Negan.

Another sigh from the man, but still Carl won’t look at him.

“Carl, can you look at me?” Negan asks quietly, so he finally does. “Look. You gotta talk to me, kid.” 

“I am talking to you. But I’m telling you that I don’t know what happened.”

So slowly Negan recounts everything he can- the phone call, how he got into their home, Shane. Carls quiet for a moment. A small part of Negan wishes he knew exactly what Shane had done to him, but another part of him wishes the exact opposite. Either way, he has to believe that he had got there in time, and that he’d stopped him before Shane had gotten too far. It was only Carls shirt off after all, nothing more, he reminds himself frequently. 

“I don’t want to go back there. With him.” Carl finally says, looking at him with a rather desperate look. 

“You’re not. Fuck, no , you’re not going near him ever again.”

A look of sheer relief passes over Carls face that’s so strong that it actually pains Negan. Someone should have intervened before this. It should never have gotten this far. It shouldn’t have been up to Carl to get himself out of this situation- but thank god he did. Thank god he made that phone call to Negan. 

“I don’t know what he gave me. But I know that it was too much. It was way more than what I usually take. All week it was like that. It was like he was upping it every night just a little more. I thought something seemed off, I just…I should have said something sooner and this maybe wouldn’t have happened.” 

“Nuh uh. Cut that shit right now. That is absolute bullshit and you know it. So he has pulled shit like this before? He’s done this before to you?”

“I don’t know what he’s done before.” Carl says, with an edge of almost annoyance to his voice. It’s obvious he’s frustrated. With his lack of memory, with the entire situation, with everything. 

Negan sighs, and waits for Carl to look at him. And he finally asks the question he’s been avoiding this entire time. 

“Kid, I have to be real blunt with you. Has Shane ever raped you?” 

Carl just looks at him blankly but then he looks away, almost physically recoiling from him. His eye darts down to the blanket. 

“I don’t think so.” He says very quietly. 

“You don’t think so?” 

Carl shrugs. “I kept waking up this week and not knowing how I got in my bed, or when I fell asleep, or anything like that. But I don’t feel like he did anything. I just…I can’t remember.”

“Alright. Alright, you know what. No.” Negan stands up. He’s had enough, and he knows now he made the wrong choice by not taking him straight to a doctor. “We’re going to the hospital. Right now.”

Carl shakes his head firmly, and Negan sees panic well up on his eye. “ No. No, I’ve been there enough, I’m not going back there.”

“Carl. No, this isn’t negotiable-”

“I’m not going .” Carl repeats stubbornly. 

“And why not?” Negan asks softly. He doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to ask. It’s probably not, but he doesn’t know where else to go from here. 

“Because nothing happened.” Carl says shortly. 

“Oh, and you’re now so sure?” Negans voice has a small tinge of anger in it, because he is mad, but not at Carl. 

“If anything was going to happen it would have happened last night.” Carl says very quietly. “When you found me, did…I mean, I’m wearing your shirt, so-” Carl doesn’t exactly know how to say what he wants to ask but he hopes hes being obvious about what he’s asking and implying. 

“I found you on the couch.” Negan starts. “You didn’t have a shirt on, but- I think that was as far as he got. Because you called me. You got yourself out of that situation, Carl. You did that.” 

Carl just nods, and closes his eye, and rubs a hand over his face. Again, exhaustion hits him full force. He doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. Negan can see that, for now at least, there was no point in pushing him. Carl was exhausted, and a mess, and he needed someone to listen to him, not force him to a hospital that he didn’t want to be at. At least thats what he told himself. 

“How do you feel?”

Carl shrugs. “Like my head weighs a million pounds.” 

“Yeah I bet. It has been awhile since you’ve had something for your eye. You want anything?”

“Um.” Carl looks at him as if- as if he’s almost unsure. Like he doesn’t trust him. “I’m fine.”

Negans not going to push it, but he also isn’t going to let him be in pain. “Alright. You tell me if you need anything. I have some of Lucille’s old meds here. Pretty much anything you could imagine.”

“It’s okay. Thanks, though.”  He says quietly. 

But a few minutes later Negan knows it’s not okay. Carls rubbing at his eye and he has his face buried in the pillow. Negan sits down on the bed next to him. 

“Carl. Hey. It’s me, okay? I am not going to hurt you. You need something though, you’re miserable, I can tell. I’ll get you whatever you want, you can take it out of the bottle yourself. I’m not trying to trick you. Please.”

Slowly, Carl nods resignedly. 

“What do you usually take?” 

“Um. They had me on Fentanyl. And Hydroxyzine I think? I don’t really need that second one it’s just for-”

“Anxiety. Yeah I know. But no you do need it, I just don’t have that. I’ll go today and get that at your house. Jesus Christ, he could have killed you.” Negan mumbles out the last part. 

“What?”

“Fentanyl. You know how serious that shit is? You take too much of that, you'll be dead in a second.” 

“I don’t…I don’t know how much he gave me.”

“Yeah he didn’t seem to know either. I stayed up all night. Made sure you were still breathing. You scared the shit outta me a few times.” 

“Thank you.” Carl says very quietly. 

Negan scoffs. “You don’t have to thank me . Making sure someone’s alive isn’t something you should thank another person for, Carl. I mean shit- do you have anyone looking out for you?” Negans angry now, angry at this whole fucked up situation. 

“I-.” Carl just looks at him confused. A little hurt, and the look stops Negan in his tracks. 

“Shit- look, ’m sorry. I  just. I care about you. A lot. And I don’t know what you’ve been taught bu t I don’t just sit around and let people I give a shit about get hurt time and time again.”

Negan goes to rifle through the medicine cabinet and eventually finds what he’s looking for. 

“Here. You know your dose?” 

Carl just nods, reading the bottle and he fishes out what he needs while Negan grabs him some water. He sits there for a moment, willing them to work a little and just staring at the wall. Eventually he looks over at Negan.  

“Why…why do you care about me? I mean. I’m just some kid you met in a bar one night.” 

Negan considers him for a moment. 

“Well. Is that all I am to you ?” He says finally. “Just some guy you met in a bar?” 

Carl shakes his head. “No. Not…anymore.” He says softly.  

“Yeah. Yeah, I didn’t think so.” 

Negan sits on the bed again next to him and sighs. Very slowly, he reaches out and takes one of Carls hands in both of his. He looks at him, searching his eye for any hesitation, but he doesn’t find any. 

“Am I reading this all wrong?” Negan asks him. 

Carl shakes his head once again. “I...no?” He says in a voice that is dripping with disbelief. Carls not exactly sure how Negan is reading this but he has an idea. 

“Fuck.” Negan says lowly. “Alright listen. We gotta figure out this Shane shit. Gotta get your head back on straight. Then…then we’ll figure out whatever…” he motions between them. “Whatever this is.” 

“Who says my head isn’t on straight?” 

“Fentanyl says your head isn’t on straight.” 

Carl huffs out a little laugh and nods. But then he looks over at him, and he looks so very lost, and confused. And suddenly Negan realizes he can’t stand to see that anymore. Lucille had cared too much about this kid to let him sit there and suffer alone. 

“Fuck- c’mere.” Negan says, his voice breaking almost a little, and he reaches out for him. Carl doesn’t have to be told twice, and before he knows it he’s curled up in Negans lap. 

This was fine, the man tells himself. This was absolutely fine. This wasn’t crossing a line. This wasn’t the point of no return. This was what anyone would do after a night like last night. Because Carl needed someone. 

Negan reaches a hand out and hesitantly runs it through his hair, wondering just where that point of no return was. This, this though, didn't feel like it. 

“Can you try and get some sleep for me?” Negan whispers out to him. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” Carl nods against him, and it’s not long at all before he feels his breathing even out and he knows he’s asleep. 

Carl sleeping in his lap? Still not the point of no return. The kid was tired. It had been a long night. This was fine. 

***

Negan shakes him awake about an hour later because Carls phone had been going off incessantly- it was Lori. Carl wakes up in his usual daze, his head still clouded from last night.

“You can stay, you know.” Negan says, before Carl calls her, and he lights up a little at that. “Stay as long as you want- or need, I don’t care. But, you do have to call her and at least talk to her. I did the hard part already.”

So Carl calls finally, after putting it off for another twenty minutes or so, and just tells her that him and Shane had gotten into it again and leaves it at that. And then he tells her he doesn’t want to come home- at least not today. Maybe not tomorrow either. 

To his surprise, Lori didn't seem upset at him at all- she just seems angry with Shane. He knows it’s asking a lot, but he decides to ask her if she could drop off his medicine and some of his textbooks at the bar, because he doesn’t want to go home and risk Shane being there. And again, to his surprise, she agrees. It seems too easy, and he wonders if his mom knew more than she was letting on about Shane. 

*** 

Enid has a smart ass remark on the tip of her tongue when she sees Carl walk in, but she stops dead in her tracks when she sees the look on his face. Carl had come in alone, with Negan waiting in the car because he knew that would just drudge up more issues if he showed up with a stranger from the bar.  

“Uh. Hi.” She says, unsure of what to even say to him because she’s so put off by the air of exhaustion that he seems to be carrying with him. 

“Hey, E.” He responds tiredly. “Thanks for dealing with my mom.”

”Anytime. What’s going on with you? She seemed worried about you- and so am I.” She looks at him with concern written all over her face. 

“Nothing. I’m just…” he trails off, and just shakes his head slightly. He sits at the bar and puts his head in his hands. 

Enid sighs, and grabs his hand from across the bar. 

“Carl. I’m your best friend. Just talk to me. She said something was going on with Shane?”

Carl just looks down at the bar, not wanting to look at her and not wanting to explain. 

Carl sighs. “Enid…look, it’s a long story. Can I just have my stuff?”

“No. You need to talk to me-”

“ Enid .” Alden appears from the back, looking from Carl to her, as if he can sense that Carl doesn’t want to talk and that he needs his space. Alden gives her a look and then his gaze goes back to Carl. 

“You alright, man?” Alden asks softly. Carl nods appreciatively.

“I’m sorry.” Carl starts. “I’m not intentionally trying to keep stuff from you, I just… shit at home has gotten a little out of hand.”

“Carl, whatever is going on with Shane, you can talk to us about it.” Enid tells him. 

But he shakes his hand, because no , he can’t. 

Alden puts a hand on Enids back gently, and looks at her. “Can you uh- listen, I have to talk to Carl about something.” Enid understands, though she seems confused, and makes her way to the back after giving them both a nod. 

“He came by before.” Alden says as soon as she’s out of earshot. 

“What?” Carl asks in disbelief. “Who- Shane?” 

“He was all worked up over something. Looking for you. Making threats, I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, threats?”

Alden shrugs. “He just seemed- unhinged. He got in my face a little. He was just being a dick. And I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but…” 

“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be pulling you into this.”

“You didn’t pull us into anything.  I just wanted you to know he was here. And it was before Enid got up here, and I just don’t want her to worry.” 

Carl nods. “Thank you.” He says sincerely. “I’m sorry- again. If he comes up again, just-” 

“I’ll tell him I haven’t seen you in a month.” 

“I was going to say you can tell him to fuck right off, but that works too.” 

Alden laughs, and grabs the book bag his mom had dropped off. 

“Don’t leave without saying bye to Enid. She’ll kill us both.” 

***

An hour later Carls sitting at Negans kitchen island, a blanket wrapped around him, reading his biology textbook, his bare feet thumping against the island every now and then. He’s calm and relaxed for the first time all day. He’d just gotten out of the shower and was now currently fully dressed in Negans clothes, and was absolutely not complaining about it- even if the sweatpants he had on were about two sizes too big. 

“Whatcha makin’?” Carl asks him, after he had focused through 3 pages, which was actually quite a lot for him given that he was still adjusting to one eye and all. 

“What do ya think?” The man asks him without turning around. 

“The usual?”

“Mhhmm.”  Negan hums out, going back to the stovetop. 

“You and your damn pasta. I swear.” He looks over at him and puts his hands on his chin, and he’d be lying if said he wasn't checking out the mans extremely distracting ass. Sorry, Lucillle. You were right , he thinks with a grin. For some strange reason, though, he doesn’t think she would actually be against it. She’d give him shit for it, and she’d definitely call him trailer trash, but she’d also laugh delightedly about it.  

He’d thought a lot about Lucille over the past few weeks. She was never quite far from his mind, and there were so many days when he wanted to go up to the hospital and tell her what had happened over the past few weeks, until that familiar pang hit him when he remembered she just wasn’t there. 

Negan turns around with a spoon in his hand to find Carl staring directly at him. “You can never go wrong with pasta. And for your information, I consider myself to be quite the chef.” 

“Hmm. We’ll see about that.” 

“Here. Taste.” Negan holds out a spoon of the sauce over the island that he had been working on while Carl had been reading. Fine, Carl thinks. He’ll play. Carl takes the spoon in his mouth without looking away from Negan. The man grins at him, his tongue between his teeth for a moment. 

“Good boy. ” Negan whispers out lowly to him. Carls pretty sure he is about to have a stroke, but somehow he still doesn’t look away from Negan. The man chuckles at him and bites his lip, one beautiful canine poking out and then turns back to his cooking. Carl is quite certain at that moment that he is well in over his head with Negan, and the man is going to eat him alive. 

For the record, the man is a good cook. 

**

Dinner is a rather quiet affair, but It turns out they are both ridiculously competitive at Monopoly. Which is always a sure fire way to piss a spitfire like Carl off, but Negan isn’t backing down from a challenge. The day had already been quite the shit show, and Negan insists that a fun little game of Monopoly can’t hurt, and he wants to keep Carl in bed and actually resting for as long as he possibly can. 

So Negan carries him back to the bed with popcorn, despite Carls protests. He claims that theres no way they can play the actual boardgame, considering Fat Joey and SImon would sabatoge the fuck out of it, so instead he pulls a game up on his Xbox. 

As the game loads, Carl is already plotting world domination. 

Things start in fairly normal fashion but as usual start to get tense about 8 rounds in after some serious property purchasing. Eventually, Negans just one short of a Monopoly on the coveted oranges, and Carl lands on New York Avenue which almost causes Negan to throw the entire bowl of popcorn on top of his head. 

“The oranges are the best!” Negan exclaims, and also knows Carl will never trade with him. Fat Joey skitters off the bed at Negans cry and nearly climbs the blinds, but Simon is rather unperturbed and settles next to Carls lap. 

“You little piece of shit, don’t do it.” Negan threatens as Carl hits the little purchase button. Carl just smiles at him and laughs as Negans little empire crumbles. 

“Oh you think you’re so funny, don’t you?”  Negan rolls his eyes at him. 

“Don’t be a sore loser, Neeg.” Carl says with a triumphant laugh. 

“I’m not, Carl. But If I land on Marvin Garvins do not expect me to show you mercy. Of any kind.” 

When Negan in fact does land on the last property that Carl needs for a Monopoly, shit gets serious. 

“Awe c’mon!” Carl whines out. 

“Ohhh. Oh now he’s upset, huh?” Negan grins at him. 

“Alright.” Carl says, mapping out his plan. “Well… then you buy that and we can trade. ” 

“Trade?! Oh- Someone wants to trade now huh ?” Negan is done with Carls shenanigans, and he all but launches himself over the bed at him until he was hovering over him, trying to be a tiny bit intimidating. Carl, almost giggling at this point, sinks back into the pillows and looks up at him very innocently. 

“A mutually beneficial trade, Negan!” 

“Uh huh. And why would I wanna trade with you?” Negan asks, grinning at him from above him. 

Carl cocks his head and smiles up at him as innocently as possible. “Cause you like me?”

Negan just smirks at him with that beautiful, delicious smile he always had and Carl was pretty sure he was going to stroke out right there because the man was too close now. And before he knows it Negans lips are on his, and he’s kissing him and-

Negan pulls back instantaneously, breaking it sooner than it had even begun, and looks down at him, shaking his head but laughing .

“Fuck.” He says lowly. “You know that absolutely was not supposed to happen, you little shit.” 

Carl laughs back at him, and puts his hands lightly on the mans chest. “I'm not complaining.”

“Yeah you wouldn’t.”  

“I’ll be good.” Carl chirps out in a small, innocent voice. Negan lets out an almost growl and then chuckles at him. 

“Yeah. See- See that shit right there is exactly why I can’t kiss you.”

“What?” Carl asks, extremely innocently. 

“You know what.” 

Carls feeling brave, braver than he usually would- maybe it’s the constant pain meds he’s been taking that are making him feel a little looser than usual- so he takes a hand and reaches it up to Negans cheek and just rests it here. Negan turns to the side and kisses his hand quickly, his eyes immediately going back to Carl. And he says the absolute last thing that Carl was expecting. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

Carl shrinks a little at that. Even if Negan had thought he maybe was something to look at before, now…well, now half his face was gone. Negan reaches a hand down and gently runs it though Carls hair. Almost unconsciously Carl let’s out a soft little huff, almost a moan, at the touch. 

And then Carl can’t stop himself. He sits up a little on his elbows and kisses him again, but this time with more eagerness than before since he wasn’t being caught by surprise. 

For just one mind blowing second Negan allows Carl to kiss him, and then the man pulls back quickly. Carl can’t help himself, and he leans into the man, chasing his touch desperately and whimpering almost. Because he was so starved for any kind of touch that didn't have him running in the opposite direction. Any kind of comfort that was actually welcome.

“Hey.” Negan says softly. “I know. But we can’t.” 

He puts a hand on Carl at that point, on his neck, and he can feel the tension running through him. No one this young should carry this much stress, this much burden on them. He suddenly wants to take it all away. 

But he can’t. Not yet, at least. Not when Carl's judgment was clouded by pills and Shane and grief and a million other things. 

“C’mon. Back to Monopoly?” He smiles at him. He pulls Carl to him, so that he’s curled up in his lap and he has an arm around him. The game continues on but neither of them say anything, not even when Negan lands on one of Carls properties and owes him $760. Their heads are both still buzzing with what just happened. 

“Is this…is this okay?” Carl asks almost out of nowhere a few minutes later, and he looks up at him from his lap. 

Negan jumps a little at his unexpected question. “What?”

“Lucille. Is it….And Ron? This is terrible. Are we terrible people? Is this okay?” Carl sits up and looks at it pointedly. 

“Shit. I don’t know, kid.” Negan starts uncertainly. Because he really doesn’t know. “All I do know is that Lucille and I broke a long time ago. We both knew it. Sometimes people just aren’t good for each other. I still loved her. Still do. And you…I don’t know. I think it’s okay though to need another person. So yeah, I think this is okay. I just think you deserve a little good every now and again, yeah?”

Carl nods, because all of it was making sense but at the same time none of it was making sense. 

Eventually, Carl ends up victorious to Negans dismay. But Carls almost asleep in his lap at this point. They lay there quietly for a while, with Negans hand running through his hair gently. Eventually, Negan shakes him a little to wake him up because he knows how late it’s getting, 

“Hey. You wanna take anything before bed?” Negan asks him gently. 

“Hmm. I’m okay.” Carl whispers out, barely lifting his head. He’s too comfortable, and he doesn’t really want Negan to move. 

“Carl. It’s me.” Negan repeats from before, and Carl just looks at him with his single, sad eye. But he finally nods, giving in, because his head is killing him. He’s confused, in pain, and a mixture of guilt and exhaustion is creeping through him. But, somehow, another part of him is also content. 

As he lets the pills set in he curls up on his side in bed, facing Negan who has laid down again next to him, and he feels the mans hand start to run through his hair once again. It’s slowly becoming a very familiar comfort. He peeks his eye open and looks over at him and smiles.
“This okay?” Negan asks him softly. 

Carl just nods. “I’ve been at that hospital for so long, and I was never really comfortable there, you know?” he mumbles out, half asleep. “And then when I came home Shane was always around, and I just never felt, I don’t know, like I could relax I guess. But this. This feels different.” 

Negan kisses his hand, and then his hand goes back to his hair. “Get some sleep. I got you, okay? You're safe here.” 

***

Sometime in the middle of the night Carl wakes up with a start. It’s pitch black and the world is quiet save for Negans breathing next to him. He’s freezing, and he realizes that he’d kicked off the comforter at some point. When he shifts Negan stirs, and the man jumps up and looks over at him as if he’d been startled. 

Negan looks over at him silently, but then he reaches a hand out and puts it on his hip. 

“Shit, you’re freezin’, c’mere.” Negan murmurs out once he feels how ice cold his skin is. He pulls Carl to him quite forcefully, his movements a little rougher and less timid than they usually would be since he has a cloud of sleep hanging over him. Carl doesn't hesitate, and he burrows happily into the comfort of Negan and his warm side of the bed. 

“Better?” Negan whispers to him softly into his hair, and Carl nods happily against him. 

“Mmhmm.” Carl hums out, his hands twisting in the man’s shirt. He doesn’t know why but he’s immediately so comfortable around Negan. Being with him like this didn’t seem new. Carl breathes him in, allowing himself to relax, and feel safe for the first time since he can remember- like someone else besides him was finally in control of things. 

Without even realizing what he’s doing Carls hands travel down and skims along Negans stomach, his eye looking at him in the dark with want and need. And maybe it’s because the world is quiet and it’s just them but he sees a little resolve break in the man at that moment. Negans lips are on him again, but this time a little more firmer and insistent than before. It takes Carl a second to register what’s happening, but he kisses him back eventually and a little moan escapes him.

Negans tongue slides into his mouth and runs along his teeth, somehow both gentle and insistent at the same time. And although he’s a little firmer than before, there’s no real urgency there. Negans hand travels to Carls waist again and he sets his hand on his hip, the pad of his thumb running circles over his hipbone. And although it’s a rush, although he feels like every nerve in Carls body has electricity running through it, somehow he still feels at ease with him. 

Carl doesn’t know how long it goes on like that for, only that he feels addicted now and he wants more. Anytime his hand travels anywhere near Negans waist the man immediately shuts him down, and Carl learns quickly that the man is only going so far- at least tonight- with him. Which is almost a relief, when he stops and thinks about it, and allows himself to enjoy this instead of thinking of what they might do next. 

When Negan does eventually pull back and grin at him Carl just looks at him a little dazed and happy, and doesn’t even try to kiss him again. Instead, he just curls into him, seeking out the familiarity that the man has started to become, and gives a little huff of contentment. Negan kisses him one last time on the forehead, and they both give into the sheer exhaustion that has finally won over. 

Carl falls into a restless sleep finally, and although Shane plagues his dreams it’s not the type of dreams he had expected. They’re of him and his dad and Shane, fishing and driving and doing dumb ass shit that hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time but now the memories are physically painful. Because before he had fallen asleep he had been wondering when the lines had blurred for Shane- when Carl became less of a child to him and more of…well, he hadn’t let his mind go there. 

At some point in the dream, though, Shane starts screaming. He’s screaming at him, screaming at everything and nothing. And Carl startles awake and realizes that Shanes yelling hadn’t been in his dream.

Someone’s at Negans door. Shanes at Negans door. And Carl, for the first time, realizes just exactly what Negan must have done to get him out of his house that night. He was coming to arrest Negan. 

Chapter Text

From his vantage point under the bed, Carl hears everything. He hears Shane’s smug ass voice as he rambles on to Negan about why he was being arrested, and he hears him quickly read him his rights. Negan is short, and rather curt in his replies- he’s not looking to cause even more trouble.

And then he hears things go quiet. Negan had told him to get under the bed and stay there, and not come out until he knew Shane was gone. Carl is almost sure- almost sure that Shane is gone- and then he hears a creak on the floorboards outside the bedroom door and sees Shanes boots appear and shit.  

“Caaarl…” his predatory voice floats over the room and Carl goes completely still and stops breathing, flattening himself against the floor as much as he can. 

“Look I know you’re here. Why don’t you come on out for me? Make this easy?” 

He still doesn’t move, silently praying that Shane gives up. There’s a moment when he sees Shane head the other direction, and he lets out a breath because he is sure Shane’s about to turn around. But then suddenly Shane drops down and is eye level with him, and he’s staring right at him. Carl is absolutely frozen. 

Shane doesn’t do anything for a moment and neither does Carl. They just continue to stare at each other, stuck, and Shane resembles a rabid animal with the way he's eyeing Carl. Then out of nowhere he lets out a growl, and he pulls Carl from under the bed by his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Carl yelps, and starts kicking out at him, but Shane just continues to pull him out even more roughly. He holds Carl by his hair, and Carl just glares at him, a confused, out of breath mess. 

“Yeah, I knew you’d be here.” Shane spits out at him angrily. 

“Shane. Shane just stop.” Carl pleads. 

“You know what I’ve done for your family, Carl? For your mother? For you? And you run off the first chance you get with someone like him, huh?”

“Don’t bring Negan into this.” Is the only thing Carl can think to say. He doesn’t struggle, because he has no fight left, and it seems rather pointless. He realizes then what a mistake it was calling Negan, getting him involved. 

“You brought him into this Carl.” Shane hisses out.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, only that he feels the need to bring Shane down from his angered high that he seems to be running on. Only a small part of him is sorry that he brought Negan into this.  The other part, the more logical part, knows it was the only option he had. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna be sorry.” The man growls out.

Shane backs him against the wall, and he looks down at Carl with a predatory gaze. Almost out of nowhere he feels Shane’s mouth on his neck, and he’s biting him and sucking a little mark into his skin there. Carl pushes back against him but it’s no use because Shane has him very much stuck. Shanes hand travels down to sit right down at his waistband, and then it goes lower, his hand palming him through his jeans. And that’s when Carl really starts to panic, starts to lash out at him like a trapped animal. 

At that, Shanes hand goes to his jaw forcefully. “Stop fighting this so much, Carl.” He says firmly, his hold painful, his nails digging into his skin. He stares him down for a few more moments, and then to Carls surprise he just…lets go. And grins at him. Carl is so utterly confused at the shift. 

Shane puts a hand on the back of his neck and another on his lower back, and Carl almost jumps at the contact. He pushes him along, down the stairs and outside- thank god- to where two police cars are sitting. He recognizes the other officer as Leon Bassett, a man that his dad had always called careless. He looks at Carl, presumably a little confused. Negans sitting in the back of Shanes car, his eyes fixated only on Carl. 

“Jump on in.” Shane says, in a very light tone that’s drastically different than the one he was using before when they were alone in Negans house. Carl looks at Shane like he’s grown two heads- he’s not about to let Shane pull that act just because dipshit Bassett is here watching them, and Shane’s trying to play off the part that he’s helping Carl. 

“No . Where are you taking us?” Carl asks, in a defiant voice. Shane chuckles nervously, obviously trying to hide from the other officer what’s actually going on. 

“Well, you’re goin’ home, Carl, you know that .” Shane smiles, but he crowds him, and is practically forcing him into the car now. Carl finally gets in the front seat begrudgingly. Shane jumps in, and he starts to whistle, his hands drumming the steering wheel like he’s just won the lottery. 

“So Negan. ” Shane starts about half a mile down the road. “I see you’ve taken a liking to Carl, huh?” Shane asks smugly, meeting eyes with Negan through the rear view mirror. Negan doesn’t take the bait. He just continues to stare straight ahead as if he didn’t hear him at all. 

“See the thing is, though, Carls been mine for a long time. And you seem like a smart, reasonable guy, Negan. But you just don’t seem to want to stay away from what’s mine.”

Carl is suddenly aware that they aren’t driving towards the station. 

“Where are we going?” He hisses out at Shane. 

“Don’t you worry about that, Carl.” Shane rolls out smoothly. 

They stop, about a mile down the road. Only There’s nothing here, and Carl gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knows this road, knows it’s deserted. Shane gets out, and goes around to Carls side and opens the door.

“Why don’t you step on out?”

Carl doesn’t, and Shane grabs him by his scalp again and pulls him out. Carl kicks out at him a little, his hands trying to punch out at Shane, but eventually Shane pushes him along. It still shocks him out Shane goes from zero to sixty so fast. To Carls surprise, Shane opens the door to the back where Negan is at and throws Carl in. The two look at each other, confused for a moment, until Carl sees some strange expression cross Negans face. 

“Whatever he does. Just sit here.” Negan tells him. “Don’t give him a reason to do anything to you, okay?” 

“What ?” Carl asks, confused. He’s not confused for long, though. Shane reaches in and drags a handcuffed Negan out onto the ground and slams the door behind him, and Carl realizes then that he’s stuck. And he can do nothing but watch as Shane hauls Negan over by the back of the neck onto the side of the road. Shane punches Negan in the face, hard, and Negan falls because his balance is off due to the handcuffs. And Carl suddenly is very aware of what Shane is about to do to him. 

He doesn’t know how long Shane continues to hit him, making Negan stand again and then when he can’t stand he resorts to kicking him. Carl can do nothing but watch, and it’s the most powerless he’s ever felt. And then finally, finally Shane hauls Negan up by his shoulders, and kicks him along as he makes him walk to the car. He throws Negan in the back with Carl, who nervously glances from Negan to Shane, unsure of where to even look first. Negan is almost unrecognizable . His face is a mess of blood and half of it is already swollen. Carls pretty sure his nose is broken. 

He feels like he should ask Negan if he’s okay, or some other dumb question, but that seems ridiculous. Of course he’s not okay. Shane was walking off aways, talking into his radio. 

“What’s he doing?” Carl asks. 

Negan just stares straight ahead. “Answering a call.” He mumbles out, his breathing heavy. “Animal attack or somethin’.”

“I’m sorry.” Carl says, and Negan looks at him finally and shakes his head at him. 

“Stop.” He says shortly. “He’ll bury himself. People like him always do.” 

Carls not sure what he’s talking about at that moment, but he knows that he should shut up before Shane gets back in the car. 

When Shane does get back in, he glances at Carl with a smug ass grin. 

“Looks like we’re going on another field trip.” He chuckles out. “Hope you didn’t have plans the rest of the day, Negan. Oh that’s right- you’re on my time now.” 

***

They drive for about 3 miles, to a relatively desolated area that Carls frequented with his dad and Shane. It’s a campground, and he’d gone fishing there with them numerous times. Carls curious to know what’s going on, but not curious enough to ask Shane. He just wants to get this over with, so that Shane can either take him home or to wherever he was planning on taking him. When they get there, Shane jumps out and walks over to a middle aged man who looks rather concerned, and a little confused, who’s standing by one of the cabins. 

“Think this is just a ruse and he’s planning on just killing me here?” Negan says to him, chuckling. Carl just glares at him, because, well it’s absolutely not outside of the realm of possibility, and how could this ridiculous man be joking at a time like this? 

Fortunately for Negan- but unfortunately for whoever Shane is walking over to- it’s not a ruse. 

“Whoa. What the fuck…?” Carl says, surprised at what he sees Shane and the man standing over. 

“What?” Negan asks, leaning towards him to see out the window on Carls side. “Oh. Jesus.” 

Shane hadn’t been lying- there had been some kind of attack, and it looked grizzly as fuck. Someone- maybe something- was lying on the ground, with a good amount of their face decimated by god knows what, but that was quite tame compared to their organs that were spilling out from their abdomen. Carl had never seen anything like it before in his life, save for stupid shit on TV. 

“Bear?” Negan asks, his face twisted up in pain but also confusion over what he was seeing. 

“I don’t…I mean. We have bears here, I guess, but…” Carl trails off, unsure of what he’s even looking at. 

“Is this a, uh. Common occurrence here? In Georgia?”

“Not that I know of.” 

“Shit. Maybe I should just go back to Virginia. Things were fine there. Y’all have man-eating bears. And jailbait like you.” He adds with a chuckle. 

“I’m not jailbait.” Carl quips back, and rolls his eye. Really? Was everything a joke to Negan? 

“I’m literally sitting in the back of a police car for you, kid.” Negan grins at him with the smuggest ass smile Carl has ever seen. God, this man was unbearable but Carl can’t help but laugh at him, his facade breaking a little. How did Negan always do that? 

“Go back to Virginia.” Carl grins at him. 

For a second Negan just continues to smile at him, but Carl sees his expression falter for just a moment.

“What?” 

“Nothin’.” Negan shakes his head, and he seems to recover quickly from whatever was on his mind. “Think he broke my nose?” 

“Uh- looks like it. Probably a good thing. Take you down a notch, you think too highly of yourself.”

“Little shit.” Negan says, still grinning at him, but his eyes travel to Shane who’s now chatting with the man that had been waiting for him at the cabin. “Alright don’t let him come back and think we’re havin’ a grand ol’ time back here.” 

So Carl shuts up, but Negan doesn’t, because Negan can never shut up. 

“You know. This is kinda kinky. Feels like the start of a bad porno, me back here handcuffed with a cute little twink like you with daddy issue-“

“Would you stop?” Carl cuts him off, trying to be serious but he’s also laughing, and trying to hide the fact that he is laughing and doing a terrible job of it. “And I don’t have daddy issues you dick.” He mumbles out, though he’s still grinning over at him like an idiot. 

“Sure, Carl. Whatever you say. ” Negan says smugly, and he laughs, but in the process he winces in pain. 

Carl suddenly feels the need to do something dumb. He notices that Shane is walking off with another officer who just arrived from a nearby county, and he takes advantage of it. So he very quickly kisses Negan, shifting a little closer to him, and his hand goes to his thigh. 

“Thank you.” Carl says sincerely. 

Negans eyes light up with something, and Carl doesn’t know if he’s just keyed up from what just happened with Shane but the man lets out an almost growl and kisses Carl back rather forcefully. Negans mouth travels along his chin, biting him along his jaw and to his ear. 

“God the things I would do to you right now if I could.” Negan says lowly into his ear, biting a little at it. “And you’d let me. You’d thank me for it.” 

Carl lets out something between a moan and a whimper that surprises both of them, and he pulls back and looks at the man, his breath quickening. 

“Oh? What happened to not now?” He asks him with a grin.

“Fuck it. We both know it’s gonna happen. No sense in fighting it anymore.” 

Shane comes back a minute later, and he has no idea what just transpired. He’s as smug as he was before, and he talks to the backup that just arrived. Carls head is swimming, between what Shane had just done and what had just happened between Negan and him. He’s a mess. 

***

Carls a little shocked when they do in fact drive towards the direction of his house, and when they pull up he’s relieved but also nervous as to what the hell Shane is going to do to Negan now that he’s not around. He spares one last glance to the man before Shane leads him up the doorstep. 

“What’s to stop me from going in here and telling my mom everything that just happened?” Carl asks him as Shane begins to turn away, because apparently he’s not in the mood to talk to Lori today. 

Shane just grins at him. “Awe shit, Carl. We both know you don’t have it in you. Your momma- she dropped your daddy real quick. Don’t give her an excuse to drop you, too.” 

Shane looks down at him with a predatory glare, and in an instant his teeth go again to the mark that he had made before, biting there quickly. He pushes Shane back forcefully, but with Shanes size it barely does anything. 

“Now you go be a good boy for your momma, alright?” Shane says to him. 

He suddenly feels like he can’t breathe and all he wants to do is get away from Shane as fast as possible. He makes his way into the house and closes the door as quietly as he can, but Lori still hears him. 

“Baby, that you?” She calls from the kitchen. He actually winces at the sound of her voice, and debates on if he should say hi or not, but it’s like his feet have made the decision for him and raveling to where she’s at without him wanting to. He walks over to her voice slowly, and to his surprise she rushes out to meet him in the living room. 

“I’ve been so worri-.” She stops dead at the sight of him, her eyes widening. “Oh, sweetheart.” 

He doesn’t quite know what she’s reactIng to. Doesn’t quite know what he must look like. But judging from her reaction, he must look like he’s falling apart, and suddenly that’s how he feels. Because if anyone can pull something out of him, it’s her. 

This is mom, he tells himself. It’s his mother. It’s her job to be on his side. 

“Mom?” He says quietly and he hears the break in his own voice and he knows that it. He knows he can’t not tell her. And he doesn’t know if she’s going to believe him, but he doesn’t care anymore. 

“Baby, what happened?” She says softly, walking over to him, her hands going on either side of his face. 

“I need to…I need to tell you something.” 

“Okay.” She says, encouragingly, but her voice is a little breathless and it’s filled with obvious concern. 

So he does. Right there in the hallway, it all comes out in a rush, like a dam has broken. He tells her everything that had happened over the last week- and even before that. He tells her, and he prays desperately that she will believe him. The only thing he leaves out, of course, is exactly what is going on between him and Negan, but well, that didn’t seem important now. Shane seemed important. But still, he tries to really hammer in how much Negan had done for him, without being obvious about him. Especially when he tells her what Shane had done to Negan today. And finally he shows her the mark on his neck that must be starting to show through, and that’s when he sees her really falter. 

“I’m sorry.” He says at the end, and he means it. He didn’t mean to complicate things. Shit had been hard enough without fucking things up further. 

Lori hugs him wordlessly, as tight as she can, and then pulls back and seems to just be in a daze. 

“I let him into my home.” Lori says, staring dumbstruck at the wall in front of her. “I let him into my home with my children. Oh honey.” She turns to look at him again.  “Oh Carl, I am so sorry.” 

Carls just shocked that she thinks what he’s saying is true. 

“It’s okay mom.” He says quickly. “I’m just… glad that you believe me.” 

“Of course I believe you, Carl. You are my child. And no, none of this is okay. But we’re going to…we’re going to fix this. Okay?” Both her hands go to his face, and she just looks at him and he knows how sorry she is that all of this happened right under her. 

He nods and softly smiles at her. “Okay.” 

They go to sit at the table, and she starts making him food, because that’s what she does when he’s upset, or she’s upset, or anyones upset.

“What happened to Negan?” She asks suddenly, halfway through her cooking. “Did Shane take him back to the station?”

“I… think so.” He hopes so, because the alternative is that Negan is dead in a ditch somewhere, but he doesn’t want to think about that. 

“Alright. Alright.” She says distantly, like she has something else on her mind. 

“What?” He asks, wondering where her mind is going. 

“You just let me fix things, okay? We’re gonna fix this baby.” She says absentmindedly, while she continues to cook. 

Just like with her cooking, Lori sometimes sucked as a mom, but she tried when things got bad, and that’s all that mattered to him. Just how she tried to resurrect that Christmas ham she had burnt to a crisp two years prior. He hopes that he ends up better off than that damn ham. 

***

He’s absolutely exhausted and he feels like he’s been through every single emotion possible in the span of a few hours, but he’s full of nervous energy and he’s not quite sure what to do with it. His mom, apparently, is too. She’s been flitting around, looking through her purse manically, and grabbing something from the stack of bills that had been setting out. 

“Honey, I have to go…to the store. I’m taking Judith.” He knows by the way Lori says it that she’s absolutely not going to the store, but he’s not about to ask questions. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, mom. I'm just gonna sleep, my head hurts.”

“Okay baby.” She pulls her keys out, and starts to take one off. “You know what this goes to?” She asks him, in a serious tone, holding out a small key. 

“Uh. The safe?” The gun safe that was upstairs in his parents bedroom. 

“Yes. You take this. You remember what your daddy taught you? It’s loaded. I just made sure of it. Safety is on.” 

He nods. “O-okay.” He fumbles out, surprised at how serious his mom is taking this. But also confused- what would be so important that she feels the need to leave if she’s this nervous about things? 

“Keep your phone on you and you call if you need anything, alright?”

He nods, and hugs her, still feeling confused and nervous and goes to settle on the couch, his textbook in hand. Until he realizes the couch doesn’t seem right anymore. He doesn’t remember a lot of what happened with Shane, but the fragments that come to him make his skin crawl, and he jumps up after only a moment and glares at the couch like it did something wrong to him. So instead, he crawls into his dads old chair. And he realizes that he feels content finally, and he’s able to actually read quite a bit until he feels his mind wander. 

He can’t help but wonder where Shane took Negan, and he prays it was just the station. A huge part of him still regrets getting Negan involved in all of this, but another part of him doesn’t know where he’d be if he hadn't made that call to him.  Had Negan gotten Daryl or someone to bail him out? Should he be trying to bail Negan out? Yeah that was a ridiculous thought. What was Shane even charging him with? Assault? Assaulting a police officer? And fuck, Negan had had a gun. Assault with a deadly weapon on a police officer? That sounded terrible even in Carls head. 

For the first time another more selfish thought crept into his head. If Negan was stuck in jail, that left Carl and his mom pretty much defenseless against Shane . Well, not defenseless . He turns the key to the safe over that’s in his pocket and considers it. If Shane actually came after them though could he actually defend himself? 

He’d like to think that, no, he wouldn’t be capable of anything like shooting Shane. But a small part of him is so utterly rage filled that he finds himself thinking about it, and realizing the idea isn’t unappealing. In fact he dwells on it a little too long, and he feels a little too comfortable with it. 

He doesn’t realize that he’s fallen asleep until he jolts awake, with dreams of Negans beaten face strewn in with fragments of him shooting Shane. He shakes his head to clear it, and he’s shocked to find that it’s dark out, which means he must have slept for the majority of the day. He’s in that brain fog where he’s not quite sure what day, or year it is even, and his mind is an almost blank slate until he remembers and, fuck. 

He’s aware that he’s a disheveled mess, and his bandage had fallen off at some point in his sleep- he must have rubbed it off. Which wasn’t a bad thing, as he needed to have it off more often than he did. The doctor had said it was good for healing, but he felt exposed without it on. He clears the sleep out of his eye, and wanders off to the kitchen where he hears his mom laughing quietly, and he’s suddenly relieved to know that she’s back. 

It was nice, hearing his mom laugh. He hadn’t heard it in quite some time. He assumes Judith is doing something ridiculous, like putting pasta on her head again. He makes his way into the kitchen, still rubbing his eye, and yawns rather obnoxiously as he walks in. 

“Hey mom, can you-” he starts to ask her if she can help him with a new bandage, but he stops dead when he opens his eye because it’s not just his mom sitting there with Judith in her high chair. 

Negans sitting at the kitchen table too, smug as can be, a cup of coffee in front of him. He has an ice pack pressed to his cheek and there’s a bottle of ibuprofen on the table. His one eye is swollen shut and the rest of his face doesn’t look any better. He’s grinning at Carl and his stupid, too white teeth look out of place on his otherwise brutalized face. 

“What are you-?” Carl fails to form a coherent sentence. His thoughts are racing, unsure how Negan could possibly be here.  “Did you post his bail?” He looks at his mom, completely lost.

Negan answers for her. “Not exactly, but somethin’ like that. Now I know where you get your stubbornness from.” 

Lori looks quite pleased with herself. 

Chapter Text

As soon as he sets foot in the kitchen the first thing Carls aware of is the glaring, obvious, awful mistake that he wasn’t wearing his bandage. Out of all of the people on planet earth Negan was both the very last person Carl had been expecting to see when he walked into his kitchen and also the very last person he wanted to see without his bandage on. He’s suddenly berating himself for being so careless- he couldn’t just casually waltz around with half of his damn face shot off. 

All in all Carl is feeling a ridiculously strong flight response as he sits down at the kitchen table and tries to act natural. Like his entire gaping wound isn’t on display for everyone. 

But if Negan cared at all he gave no indication- he didn’t seem thrown off at all at the unexpected arrival of a very confused, disheveled Carl with his half a still healing face that looked like it just went on a date with a meat grinder to complete the picture.

“Alright. Is someone gonna tell me what’s going on?” Carl says once he sits down, attempting to take away of the attention that might be going to his face. 

The two of them recount the absolutely ridiculous story of how Lori may or may not have used her influence as Ricks wife to call in her one and only favor with the judge, who had a very, very soft spot for the Grimes family and who was retiring in two months, so he may have thrown caution to the wind a little. Negan was still very much up shit creek without a paddle- Judge Greene couldn’t do anything about the charges against him- but he was released on his own recognizance, much to Shanes very obvious disapproval of the decision. 

Which is how he came to be, sitting in Carls kitchen, with an ice pack on his face and Loris coffee in front of him. 

For once Carl is glad that Negan never shut up and seems to always have something to say because the alternative could have been some rather awkward silence between the three of them. Instead though, they them ramble on like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Carl can’t help but laugh when he hears them describe Negans reaction to seeing Lori there to bail him out- he'd about fallen over when he realized what she was there for. 

At one point Lori looks from Carl to Negan, and then from Negan to Carl again, and Carl just raises his eyebrow at her. 

“You two together are just a mess.” Lori laughs. Which, to be fair, they were. They were quite a scene together two of them between Carls face and Negan who looked like he had literally just been run over, the bruising and swelling of his face coming in full force now. They can’t help but laugh too at the ludicrousness of it all. 

Eventually, Lori takes him upstairs to help him rebanadge his face without him even having to ask her, and he is so grateful that she must have seen how uncomfortable he felt sitting there with his whole wound on display. He hops up on the counter of the bathroom, and when she turns to him she looks at him with concern. 

“You get any sleep when I was gone?” She asks him quietly, and he hears the break in her voice. And oh shit, he hates it more than anything to hear his mom cry. He sees a small sheen of tears in her eyes as she looks at him, and she swipes at her eyes and smiles sadly at him. 

He just nods at her question. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. It’s just…the more I think about everything, the more…Oh baby, I should have known . I should have known what was going on.” She looks at him- really looks at him. “I’m so sorry Carl. I’ve been so…distracted from you.” Her hand goes to his face. “You’re still my baby. You always will be. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.” 

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Really.” He grabs her hand gently. 

“I’m glad…I’m glad Negan was there for you.” She says.

“I know it’s hard without your dad. So I’m glad you have him.“

The last thing Carl wants to do is compare Negan to his dad, but he just smiles at her and nods like she’s on the right track, because it’s a lot better than her knowing the truth. But maybe that was good. Maybe his mom wouldn’t mind his time with Negan as much if she thought he was just spending time with him because he needed a father figure. He hates lying to her, but he’s not necessarily lying. Just…not telling her that he wants to sleep with a man older than his father. 

After she’s done and she heads out to give him a moment he takes a second to collect himself, making sure the bandage is actually in place. He wonders vaguely if he’ll ever feel comfortable without something covering it, wonders how it’s going to heal. And for some reason the words that Negan had said to him so long ago resurface, maybe because his mom had just brought up his father. “When he wakes up your dads not going to recognize you.” Negan had originally said it about his haircut, but now…well now Rick definitely wouldn’t recognize him. Not that his dad was ever waking up, Carl reminds himself. So it didn’t matter anyways. 

He feels confused suddenly, looking at himself. And he wonders, not for the first time, why Negan was even giving him the time of day. He was just some kid with a fucked up face and a fucked up life. But shit. maybe Carl was a distraction from the mans own fucked up life. Maybe he just plain felt sorry for him. He runs a hand over his face, brushing all those thoughts aside for now, though he knows as soon as he’s alone again they’ll resurface. His worst fear at this point is that people are only even acknowledging him because they take pity on him. But the thought of Negan doing that is too much, and he heads downstairs, trying to clear the thoughts from his head as soon as he can. 

“What’s up?” He asks his mom as soon as he makes it back into the kitchen, because he can tell she’s on a mad search for something. 

“Oh nothing.” She stops and looks at him after dumping her purse on the kitchen table. “I’m just- I should have written this damn number down.”

“For?” He sits back down at the kitchen table. Negans nowhere to be found, and he wonders with an almost violent pang if the man had left, but then realizes probably not since Lori had been his ride home from the police station. 

“My supervisor has a new phone, and I’m not going in tonight, so-”

“Mom. It’s fine.” He interrupts her. “You don’t have to call off again for me.”

She turns around and looks at him with an intense gaze, one that he knows well, and he knows it will take a lot of convincing to change whatever's on her mind. 

“Honey, I’m not leaving you alone. Not with Judith... and not with Shane around.”

“I’m fine .” He stops, and considers what he’s about to throw out next. “What if I ask Negan?” He had no idea if the man could even stay- or, hell, if he even wanted to, but he figured it was worth a shot. 

She looks at him for a moment, considering him. 

“He’s done more than enough. I’m sure he’s ready to go home.”

“Mom. Shane being out there, it- it just makes me nervous. If Negan was around I’d just…I’d feel better.”

It’s not a lie. It’s just not the whole truth for why he wouldn’t mind Negan spending another night. He sees Lori falter, sees her turn the idea over in her head. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but if you need me to stay I’m more than happy to.” Negan was standing in the doorway behind Carl. “I just have to go home and feed my fat ass cats, but once that’s settled, I really don’t mind.” 

“That’s…I can’t ask you to do that.” Lori says firmly, but Carl can tell her resolve is breaking. 

“It’s no problem. And you’re not asking me, I’m volunteering. Completely on my own volition. All due respect, but if Shane did this to my face I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you all alone here. I only have one condition though,” and he looks to Carl. “And that’s for you to buy me some pizza from the Rhees.”  He adds with a grin. 

***

“Say hi to Fat Joey and Simon for me.”  Carl says as Negan gets ready to head home to tend to his small little cat clowder- Daryl had come to pick him up. Lori was upstairs with Judith, and so he gets a little closer to the man than he normally would when she was around. He’s feeling a little braver than before, some of the insecurity that had been running through him before was gone, but he still felt the uncertainty scratching at the back of his consciousness. 

“Oh I’m sure they miss you.” Negan says with a grin. He looks at Carl, a little more seriously than he had been before. “Why don’t you take this off more often?” He asks him softly, his hand going to the bandage on Carls eye, his head cocking to the side a little as if he's studying him.

Carl shrugs and shirks away from him. “Uh. Cause no one wants to look at it?”

“Well. That’s bullshit.” He stops for a moment, just continuing to study him. “You know, it was nice to see your face again.”

Negan turns around to go out the door, but looks back at him one last time. 

“You look cute in my hoodie. Keep it.” And he winks at him and is gone.

It’s only then that Carl realizes that he’s still wearing the mans Led Zeppelin hoodie that he had given him, and he feels more confused than ever. He decides to go take a shower. A cold one, probably, at this rate.

***

Two hours later he finds himself back on the couch with Negan next to him. He’d just put Judith in bed for the night, and he’s happily eating his second slice of pizza. Carl was ready for some peace and quiet because Lori had finally left for work for her night shift, and for once it was just him and Negan again. 

Only- as usual- things were never really peaceful or quiet with Negan around.  

“What do they put in this pizza, crack?” Negan asked through a mouthful. 

Carl nodded as he ate his own slice and swallowed down a ridiculous amount before he could answer. “I think so. It’s the sauce, Glenn said. His moms secret recipe.” 

“Oh, so I’m tasting Glenns moms secret sauce?”

Carl nods and then realizes what he had said, and rolls his eye at him. “Is everything a sexual euphemism to you?”

“I feel like you already asked me this today. And the answer is still yes. By the way, what did you put in your hair? It’s extra…” Negan motions with his hand around his own head and Carl just looks at him like he’s crazy. 

“Extra what ?”

“Fluffy?” 

Carl just stares at him. “Is that a problem? ”

“No. No, it’s cute. I like it.” 

Carl just side eyes him while he grabs another slice. 

“Weirdo.” 

Negan gives him a look, and he flicks on the TV. The first thing on is the news, which Carl ignores until he hears what they’re reporting on. The bear attack from today. Or, at least, it sounds just like it. This, though, was in a completely different location. 

“That the one Shane took us to today?“ Negan asks. 

Carl shakes his head. “No. We were at Sawnee but this says McCaskey. That doesn’t make any sense- those two places are nowhere near each other. How could they mess that up? Unless there was more than one bear attack today?“

He continues to watch, but it's all making his head hurt. Actually, now that he thinks about it, his head really does hurt, and it’s not from the news. The pain that always seemed to settle in during the evening hours as his meds wore off was back, and he runs a hand down the side of his face. 

Negan doesn’t say anything. He just shrugs, and changes the channel to some stupid Gorilla-ruining- the-world movie staring The Rock. At one point Negan goes to make popcorn, and the two settle in, though Carls on edge. Because there’s no way they’ve come this far to just sit there all night with one another and eat popcorn like they were in a friggin’ convent . He feels like he's going to jump out of his skin in anticipation, but he's not going to make a move until he knows for sure that Negan didn't feel like yesterday was a mistake. 

“How’s your eye?”  Negan asks, seemingly out of nowhere, and Carl wonders if maybe he can see the obvious discomfort that's probably written all over his face. 

“I mean, last time I checked it wasn’t there, so…” Carl smartasses back. He doesn’t really want to talk about his eye. He doesn’t really want to talk about anything. 

Negan scoffs at him but grins. “You’re such a shit, you know that?“

“ What?” Carl asked innocently, laughing. “It’s fine.” 

“Hurt?” Negan presses, and part of Carl wishes he wouldn’t push the subject, but he knows there’s no point in lying. 

“I mean- It always hurts. Kinda goes hand in hand with getting half your face shot off.”

Negan just looks at him with a mix of concern and amusement, so Carl finally gives in. He was hoping a joke would deflect some of it, but it doesn’t seem to be working. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” He tells him. 

“Come over here.” Negan says to him softly, and within seconds Carl has scooted over and is curled up next to him so that his head is on the man’s shoulder because jesus, he thought the man would never ask. Negan puts his hand on the back of Carls neck and starts to work his fingers into the sore muscles there, and Carl hadn't even realized how tense he had been feeling until a hand was on him. The man hits a particularly tender spot and Carl sucks in a breath and relaxes into him a little. No one had touched him like this in quite some time, and it was nice to feel something other than the aching, constant pain in his face. 

“Are you really always in pain?” Negan asks him suddenly. Carl actually rolls his eye, though he knows the man can’t see it. He knows he would see right through him though if he lied. 

“I mean. Yeah, I guess. Not so much when I’ve just taken my meds, but when they start to wear off then…kinda.”

“Why don't you talk to someone about upping them?” 

Carl chews at his lip for a second, because it’s something he had wondered himself- though, really, he knows why.

“I…I can- now, I suppose. I thought…well I thought that I was on too much before. But I didn’t realize that Shane was giving me more than I needed, and I always just felt like I was underwater. I’d rather be in pain than feel like that. I guess I was just…high all the time. But I hated it.”

Negan makes a noise in the back of his throat that just sounds like a strange mix of anger and something else that he can’t quite place. 

“Talk to someone, okay? You shouldn’t be hurtin’ all the time.” Carl just nods, and Negan continues to massage all the tension out of him. And Carl can’t lie, when Negan runs a hand over a particular spot right in the middle of his neck it sends a shiver through him and he feels his body react almost immediately and he’s annoyed with his own self because he truly is enjoying just spending time with him. Even if his body is still craving more. 

After awhile Negan kisses forehead and puts a hand on his chin, making Carl look up at him. 

“Monopoly rematch?” Negan asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“Thought you were never gonna ask.” Carl grins at him. 

“Don’t be so excited. I went easy on you last time. Not this time…” 

“Oh yeah?” Carl cocks his head at him, and throws some popcorn in his mouth from the bowl next to him. “Challenge accepted, old man.” 

Negan grins at him, but instead of hitting him with a smart reply he just reaches out for him and pulls him towards him so that Carl is now cuddled up on his chest. 

“Couldn’t even wait til we started the game this time, huh?” Carl laughs, looking up at him. 

“Nah, I really just wanted to steal back the popcorn.” He reaches over Carl and grabs a handful of it and in the process drops some in his hair. 

Carl smacks him, laughs, and swipes the damn popcorn out of his hair. “Oh I see how it is. You’re just here for the snacks.” 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

Carl looks up at Negan, and now that he’s in even closer proximity he can really see the damage Shane had done. The bruises on Negans face should make him feel guilty. He should feel literally anything else than what it’s making him feel. Because it’s turning him on, in some twisted way. Knowing that Negan looks like that because he was protecting him. And Carls not quite sure what to do with that information, and he’s not sure if he likes it, but he does know that just seeing what Negan had done for him was an absolute, undeniable turn on. 

He settles against Negan, his face against the mans leather jacket. Something comes to his mind, which he jumps on to get rid of the thoughts of just how turned on he is by just being near the man. 

“Why don’t you wear this that much anymore?” Carl questions, his hands running along the sleeve. He had rarely seen him without it when he first met him, but it had become increasingly rarer now that he wore it. 

He feels Negan shrug against him, but the man doesn’t say anything. He knows immediately that maybe it has to do something with Lucille, and he wonders if he’s gone too far by asking. Instead, there’s silence for a moment, before he hears Negan speak again. 

“If I tell you, are you gonna freak out?”

“What?” Carl asks, confused. “Why would I freak out?” 

Another long silence. And then-

“This.” Negans hand runs along the coat, where there’s a dark stain that Carl hadn’t really noticed before. “It’s your blood. Or what’s left of it that I couldn’t get out. From the day you were shot.”

“Oh.” Carl says dumbly, the realization setting in. “Oh- fuck. Sorry. I guess I owe you a new jacket.” 

Negan huffs out a sad little laugh and shakes his head at him. “Scared the shit out of me that day. I hate to even look at this jacket, but…Lucille...”

“Shit. Sorry.  I wouldn’t want to look at it either with some poor kids blood on my nice jacket.”

Negan looks like he’s about to smack the stupidity out of him. 

“It has nothing to do with the jacket, you dipshit.  I don’t like thinking about that day. I thought you were dead…and It fucked me up. Though sometimes when I see it I’m also reminded that you’re alive. And it helps. Fucked up, right?” 

Carl hadn’t thought much about it- about what Negan had seen that day. He tried not to think about it, and he was lucky he had no memory of it. But, he hadn’t really realized it was something the man still thought about. Almost instinctively he grabs Negans hand, and the mans arm goes around him tighter. Almost painfully tight, but Carl is absolutely not complaining. 

“You were just clinging to me, you know.” Negan continues on, his eyes distant and far away, and focused on something else besides Carl. “You were holdin’ on to me, and I didn’t know what to do. I swear I can still feel your hands on me. And you were shakin’, so bad . There was just blood everywhere. You said my name…and god I was sure you were dyin’ right there in front of me. I was holding you and you were dying . You were . I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my whole life. And you were scared, and I was trying to hold it together for you… but I just couldn’t.” 

Carl looks at him, unsure of what to even say. But he realizes that apparently this was something that Negan had been needing to talk about for quite some time, get off his chest, and he just hadn’t had the opportunity. So he just dumbly says,  “I didn’t know I was awake at all after I got shot.”

Negan nods, his voice tight. “Just for a second.”

“And I knew you were there?” For some reason, he’s surprised by this. In his head, he was always shot and immediately knocked out. He had never thought of the possibility that he was awake at all, for any of it. And if he had been awake, he would never have thought that he was conscious enough to know anyone around him. 

“You did. Never forget that look on your face, Jesus . I can still hear you sayin’ my name. And when you passed out - I…I was sure you were gone. Because you were clinging to me so hard but then you just let go of me, and I just knew. I mean shit, there was no way someone could survive that, I thought. And- this is gonna sound so fucked up- and it is fucked up. But I just remember thinking that I didn’t want to see you scared anymore. And when you passed out, you just looked peaceful. I didn’t want to see you in pain like that. You were just…still. And I held you until the paramedics came. Pete and Jessie were with Ron, and…” he trailed off, looking at the ceiling, but still, Carl doesn’t say anything. He knows somehow that it’s good for Negan to talk about this, that he needs to. 

“You were gone though, I know you were.” He continues on, in a different tone. “You weren’t breathing. And when they got there I told them that you were dead, and I wouldn’t let them take you away from me. I don’t know why, but I wouldn’t leave you. And Jessie- that woman is a goddamn saint- she left Ron, and she came to you, and me, and told me to just let them take care of you. I think I was just in shock, I don’t know. Over you and Lucille. But. Either way, when they took you, I was so convinced that was the last time I was going to see you. I just kept thinking that at least you were…with Lucille. That in some fucked up way, it…it worked out.”

And then the very last thing he ever expected to happen happens. Negan sniffles, and it’s obvious that he’s on the verge of actual tears and Carl doesn’t quite know what to do. 

“Hey.” He says gently and sits up and moves away just slightly so he can see him and it gets Negans attention. 

“Shit, sorry. See I did freak you out. Haven’t really talked to anyone about that day, and it just…came out I guess.” 

“No. No, it's fine." Carl says quietly. "I just…I never thought about any of this.” 

“Do You remember anything?”

“No.” He shakes his head. 

“Good…that’s good. You don’t…don’t need to remember any of this shit. You alright?” Negan asks him, a hand going to his face, his thumb running little circles over his cheek.

Carl nods. “Should be asking you that.” 

Negan scoffs. “Oh don’t worry about me. Believe me, I’ve had worse than this.”

“I wasn’t talking about your face. But- Really?” Carl asks, a little surprised because Negan had thoroughly had his ass kicked today. 

Negans facade breaks and he laughs “Actually, no. This shit friggin’ sucks. That prick can pack a goddamn wallop.” 

But then he sees Negans face turn and cloud over- and not in pain. 

“What is this?” Negan asks, his voice changing from almost sweet to concerned. His hand goes to Carls neck, and Carl knows instantly what he must have seen- the mark Shane had left on his neck before. 

“It uh.” He starts. “Nothing.” He says quickly, which is dumb, because he knows that Negans well aware of what probably happened. 

“He do this? When we got to your house?”

Carl shook his head. “No, uh… I mean. Yeah, it was him.” He finally admits. “It was at…your house- when they took you outside. He, uh...” He looks away at him, because he suddenly can’t look at him, but Negans hand goes to his chin. 

“Did he hurt you?” 

Carl shakes his head again. “No. No. I’m fine.” 

“This isn’t fine.” And Negans suddenly angry . Carls eye darts away from him, because he doesn’t want to look at him. Negans angry and he doesn’t know what the man is angry at, what exactly isn’t fine, and his thoughts start to spiral. For a crazy moment he wonders if Negans angry at him , though the rational part of his brain tells him that’s not true. He can hear Shanes words in his head. Carls been mine for a long time now. And suddenly it’s like Negan has faded away and he can feel Shanes hands on him, and his mouth on him, and he wonders why Negan would want him-

“Carl.” Negans voice makes him jump.

“What?” He asks, a little dazed. He shakes his head, realizing that he totally checked out for a minute. “Sorry. I just-”

“Hey. Stop with that. C’mere.” And Negan pulls him back towards him so that he’s laying on his chest again. Carl feels a hand in his hair and suddenly he feels infinitely more calm. His breathing syncs to Negans and he starts to relax. 

Carls not sure how long he lays there for, contemplating how fucked up shit is. And suddenly, he feels like there’s one thing and one thing only that he wants right now. 

He sits up a little, pushing off of the mans chest, and looks up at Negan. “Take it away.” He says very softly, hoping in that one little sentence that he’s conveying everything he wants to say. 

“What?” Negan asks, confused, his hand going to Carls face. 

“Just. I just want to stop thinking about it all.”

“Carl…”

“What happened to it’s going to happen sooner or later?” 

Negan huffs out a little sigh. “Shit kid. Look. I’m trying not to be the bad guy here. I’m trying real hard. I’m old enough to be your fucking dad, and your head has to be all sorts of fucked up, and I just-” 

Negan was interrupted by Carls tongue going halfway down his throat. Negans caught by surprise, but it’s only a second before he’s kissing him back, fighting him for some kind of dominance which he wins. 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Carl asks him breathlessly once he had pulled back and was gazing down at him. Negan grins at him. 

“Oh I think you’ll find there are a few ways to shut me up.” He pauses for a moment, just looking at him. “You sure about this? Because I want you, and if we do this, I’m not going to want to stop-”

“Negan. Stop.  Can you just…trust that I know what I want?”

And Carl knows immediately that he’s said the right thing, because he sees the mans face soften. Negans hand goes to his cheek, right where his bandage stopped, and he runs his thumb along the edge of it. 

“Will you take this off for me?”  Negan asks very softly, his hand going to the bandage. And he asks it so sincerely that Carl can’t even say no. 

“You- are you sure?” Carl stutters out. He's not sure, but if Negan is...

“Of course. Let me see you.” Negans hand goes to the back of his head again, pulling them together and kissing his forehead. So Carl takes it off slowly, and nervously, not wanting to look at him. Negans hand goes to the still healing skin there, right below where his eye was, and traces along it gently. 

“There you are.” Negans smiles softly at him once it’s gone and discarded on the floor. “You’re are so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

Carl huffs out a laugh and still averts his eye, shyly. 

“Don’t.” Negan says firmly. “Don’t do that. Please look at me, Carl. You are the prettiest thing I have ever laid my eyes on.” 

His hand stays there for a while, running little circles over the skin there until his thumb goes to the bottom of Carls lip. He kisses down Carls jaw, and then down his neck, and lands finally on the skin on his collarbone right where Shane had marked him before and his hand goes to Carls hip. Unexpectedly, Negan lets out what almost sounds like a low, possessive growl and it almost makes Carl jump. Negan looks back down at Carl and he has a look in his eyes that makes him shrink in place. It’s possessive and heated and just full of want. 

“I swear to god if you let me I will worship every single inch of you.” Negan says to him, eyes not leaving him. “I will take care of you. You won’t have to fight every day like this, I promise you.”

Carls breath hitches, trying to wrap his mind around what the man just said. Negan goes back to Shane’s mark, his tongue very gently running over it, soothing it. But Carl realizes he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to see any hint of Shane on him. He wants to belong to Negan, and Negan alone. 

“I don’t want to see it and think of him, I just want it….gone.” 

Negan looks at him, hesitantly, and he knows what Carl wants- knows that he wants Negan to mark him over what Shane has already done.  “I don’t wanna hurt you more.”

And for some reason those words set Carl off. Negan doesn’t understand, and he’s tried of the man treating him like he was some fragile little thing. 

“Would you just shut up and and fucking listen to what I need for once? Please. I can’t…” Carl trails off, not knowing why he was suddenly feeling so emotional over this. 

“What, Carl?” Negan asks him gently, knowing that he was walking on some thin ice. 

“I just…I can’t feel him on me anymore. I don’t want to think about him saying that I’m his. I just..I can’t. I didn’t want this. Didn’t want him. I want you. I've wanted you for a long time, Negan. I know he didn’t actually do anything to me, but-”

Negans face clouds over again. 

“Carl. You cut that shit out right now. Do not minimize what happened to you with him. He had no fucking right to lay a hand on you. Now if this is what you want…. And If you let me …I will make sure he never even looks at you again. But you have to let me. You want this?”

Carl nods firmly, and pulls Negan even closer to him. 

“You want me to take care of you?” Negan murmurs into his ear. 

Carl nods, a little whine escaping him from the back of his throat without him realizing it. 

“Want me to take it all away?” 

Carl nods again, feeling like he was going to absolutely jump out of his skin with need if Negans didn’t do something, finally. 

“Shit-you need a daddy don’t you?” 

Carls not even aware that he’s launched himself at the man, and it only becomes obvious when he feels a sting on his lips that must be blood from the absolute force that he used to bring them together. His hands go to Negans shirt and he pulls the man towards him, and he hears the unmistakable sound of the fabric ripping. 

“Fuck.” Negan smiles at him. “You’re all kinds of pent up, aren't you baby boy?”  

Negan had no idea, really, just how pent up he is. Carl takes the man’s bottom lip in his teeth and sucks on it. He goes almost feral. It’s like he had been a crucible of emotions and in that moment everything just comes to the surface. He doesn’t kiss Negan- he attacks him, their teeth clashing together and he tastes blood again but that’s what he wants- because he wants to feel something else besides all of the confusion and anger and just everything . 

He takes a breath, and it comes out as a combination of a choked out overwhelmed sob and a whine, and it surprises even him. 

“ Hey, I got you. ” Negan says to him softly, seeming to understand just what he needed in that moment. He easily flips him so that Carls now sitting in his lap, and Negans hands go to settle on his hips. It shouldn’t, but it surprises Carl how damn good  it feels just to be in his lap, how he just seems to fit perfectly there, and how natural Negans hands feel on him, holding him there. And then Negans hips roll up to meet his, and Carls mind almost goes blank, because it feels so damn good. 

Negans mouth goes to the mark on his collarbone, and Carl can feel the mans teeth on it, sucking and biting. He knows that whatever mark Shane had left will be very much covered by whatever Negan is doing. His hands travel to Negans chest, running them all over and trying to take in every inch of the man that he can. And then they're on his back, digging in enough to leave little marks all over and he tears what's left of his shirt off, while Negan chuckles lowly at him. 

“Shit kid. I knew you’d be a handful in the sheets.” He murmurs lowly in an almost appreciative tone, as he licks at Carls collarbone. 

It gives Carl pause, but not enough to actually stop what he was doing. A handful wasn’t exactly something he’d ever consider himself- he hadn’t exactly had a lot of sexual prowess with Ron. Things got a little rough sometimes between them, he didnt mind when Ron smacked him around, but that was about the scope of their non-vanilla sexual horizons. But things already felt different with Negan. The man was bringing out things in him that he’d never felt before. 

“Fuck me.” Carl tells him, and there’s absolutely no falter or waver in his voice. His hands go again to Negans face, and he pulls him towards him and swallows him in another kiss.

Negan flips him again, and Carl is once again caught off guard with how easy it is for the man to throw him around, and he saves that little gem of information because he knows he's going to be thinking about it later. He’s on his back, and Negans above him with that same possessive look on his face which Carl is beginning to commit to memory. Negan kisses down his chest, biting little marks down his body. 

“We shouldn’t do this. Not right on the couch.” Negan says into his chest, still traveling lower, pulling his shirt up to expose the smooth skin there. Negan knows they aren’t going anywhere , because he’s too desperate for him now, but, it feels wrong to not say it. Maybe part of him does like the fact that he knows someone could walk in on them at any time. 

“Yeah, probably not.” Carl says a little breathlessly, his hands going into the mans hair, threading into it and pushing him lower.

“Think we can make up the stairs?” Negan asks as he bites at the skin right above his waistband, and his hand goes to settle on the zipper of Carls jeans. He has absolutely no intention of making it up those stairs, and Carl knows it too. 

Carl looks down at him and smirks at him, and shakes his head. “Probably not.” He says again, with a bite to his lip. 

“Yeah I didn’t think so.” Negan smiles at him and he licks a little at his skin, tongue flat and lapping at every inch that he can of him. Suddenly, he moves up so that he’s right over Carl again, looking into his too-pretty face, that one blue eye staring up at him. Out of nowhere Negan feels that electricity that must have run through Carl before and he puts a hand on the back of his head and brings them together, kissing him as deeply as he can, his tongue licking and fucking into his mouth. Carl moans, so sweetly, and his hands go to Negans jeans, and Negan knows he has no more resolve. 

“Off.” Carl demands in a small, but firm little voice that Negan finds adorable. 

“Bossy little shit.” Negan laughs at him, but he works on his own jeans while Carl takes off his shirt and settles into his lap, with Negan in just his boxers and Carl in his jeans still. But finally, finally it’s skin against skin at least above the waist and it sends Carls head into a rush, because he’d wanted this for so long. 

Negan runs his hands all over Carls lithe body, looking down at him, humming in appreciation. 

“So goddamn pretty, boy.” He says lowly as he looks him over. “Yeah, you’re not just pretty, though, are you? You are so much more than that.”

Negans hand goes to his jaw, and he again pulls Carl to him, fucking into his mouth again with his tongue and roling his hips into him. Carl lets out one of those sweet little moans that Negan knows he’s going to grow rather attached to, and he mewls as Negan brings his hand around to grip his ass and force him even closer to him. 

“That’s it baby,” Negan hums out, encouraging all those little sounds out of him that he can. “Tell daddy what you need.” 

“You. Want you, right now.” Carls hand suddenly goes to the couch, and he digs around in the cushions until he pulls out something. Negans confused for a moment, but his eyes light up in amusement when he realizes what he must have put there before. Fucking lube.

“You devious little shit.” Negans eyes light up. 

“Hey.” Carl retorts with a grin. “If you thought there was even a chance you were going to get fucked in the ass you’d have lube stashed, too.” 

Negan laughs at Carls absolute ridiculousness, and kisses him again, but it's more affectionate than anything.  His hand goes to Carls chin, and he just gazes at him for a moment.
“You sure about this?” Negan asks one more time, knowing he’s bordering on the edge of overbearing, but he can’t help but ask just one more time. He expects some bossy, overly confident retort to roll out of the kids mouth, so he's surprised when he’s just met with a very small “yeah” and a nod. 

Carl stands up and Negan sits, so that Carls standing between his legs. Negans hands immediately go to his hips, his thumbs running little circles into the beautiful angles of his hip bones and he hums appreciatively as he looks him over.

“Such a pretty little thing.” Negan whispers. “And all mine.” He kisses his bare stomach and sucks a little mark onto the sensitive skin there, and Carl whimpers, his hands finding Negans hair. 

Negans hands go to Carls zipper, and he makes quick work of finally getting him out of all of his clothes, and once he does he just looks Carl over with another one of those low, appreciative hums. Negan finally rolls off his boxers, and Carl catches a glimpse of his dick and- well, shit.  

With a little growl Negan pulls him into his lap so that he’s straddling him, and Carls caught off guard again by how good it is to be against the man’s skin finally. Negans hand goes to his chin, and makes Carl look at him. He realizes he’s not used to being looked at this much this much during sex and it’s different. Good different. Eventually, Negan pushes him down so that he's on the couch again on his back, looking up at him. 

Negan coats his fingers with the lube and his hand ghosts very lightly Carls stomach for a moment before trailing lower, until he was settled right at the tight heat of his hole. 

Not that he would admit it, but Negan had imagined this many times. In all his musings, he’d never thought Carl would feel like this. He’s impossibly tight, Negans one finger more than enough to fill him once it’s inside of him, and the thought of what he’s going to feel like around his dick almost makes Negan dizzy.

He expects some resistance, even just the smallest amount considering how tight he is, but there’s none. If anything, Carls whole body just relaxes and he sighs out a little moan of relief.

“That’s it, baby boy.” Negan whispers to him. Carls head falls back, exposing his neck more, and Negan can’t help but lean forward and nip a little at his pulse point. 

“That’s it.” He repeats. “You relax and I’m going to make you feel so damn good you won’t even know your own name. But you are gonna know who you belong to, I can promise you that.” 

He slides in another finger after a few moments, and Carl tenses just slightly and lets out a little gasp. Negan stops, and waits for him to relax, and it only takes a second until he’s able to slide in further. 

“You good?” He asks him, and Carl nods.

But he’s impossibly tight still, and Negan considers him for a moment, his tongue darting out as he licks his lip. 

“Tightest little hole I’ve ever felt. You let me take care of you for a second, alright? Just relax.” 

Negan pulls his fingers out unexpectedly, and a little needy whine escapes Carl as he chases the contact and is surprised at how empty he already feels. He sits up a little and looks at Negan in confusion, and the man just chuckles at him. 

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

Negan kisses him and then starts to work his way down Carls body, slowly, trailing down his chest and his stomach and continuing on and Carl assumes he knows where Negan is going. But then the man just skips over his dick entirely, his breath ghosting over it and he goes lower.  Carl almost jumps off the couch in surprise. 

“Oh fuck. What’re you…” He gasps out, and looks down as Negan starts lapping at his hole, the man’s tongue flat and eager and Carl lets out a needy moan that fills the room and goes straight to Negans dick. The feeling is so new that Carl tenses up for just a moment, and he feels Negans tongue pull away for a moment. 

“Relax.” Negan says with a grin and he looks up at him for just a second. And so Carl does, and lets his mind go blank as he gives in to the feeling of Negans tongue inside of him 

He gasps in a sharp breath, his hands clutching at the couch- at anything - and he can’t help but move into the heat of the man’s mouth. One of Negans hands moves along his hip and settles flat on his stomach, and the feeling of that heavy, protective hand on him is enough to almost send him over the edge. Carls belatedly aware that he’s shaking slightly, and he arches his head back, and his whole body follows, pushing into Negan, wanting more. Negan finally moves away and Carl whimpers as the man goes to settle above him. 

“Anyone ever lick that tight little hole of yours?” He asks in a very smug voice. Carl just shakes his head, not able to find words. But instead of saying anything he just pulls Negan to him, his tongue parting Negans lips again and he runs it over the mans bottom teeth, and sucks a little at his bottom lip. It's filthy and probably the most vulgar thing he's ever done, tasting himself on Negan, but it's a rush. For just a moment he wonders if kissing him was going too far, if it would give Negan pause, until- 

"Fuck that's hot." Negan moaned out, and he immediately relaxes. Carl hears the unmistakable noise of him opening the lube, and it’s only a few seconds later that he feels what he thinks is two fingers. They slide in almost effortlessly this time, and he can’t help the whine that escapes him. 

“Yeah.” Negan says into his mouth as he kisses him again, and Carl feels the man’s fingers start to slide in and out. “See. Got you all relaxed for me, baby.” 

And that’s when Negan curls his fingers just right, and Carl almost jumps off the couch with a gasp. 

“Right there?” Negan asks, chuckling. 

Carl just nods, trying to relax into the feeling again but it’s almost too much. 

“Good?”

“It’s…yeah, yeah it’s good. It’s a lot.” 

Negans mouth goes again to his ear, and Carl concentrates on the sound of the man’s breathing and it’s not long before his touches go from too much to perfect. 

He feels pressure again and he can only assume that it’s him adding another finger, but he’s so relaxed that it barely registers to him. And Negan continues to hit that spot in him just right and all of a sudden it’s too much again, and he can’t believe he's about to come from just the man’s fingers in him. 

“Neeg- Negan.” He starts to push him frantically away because he knows he’s about to come already. “Stop or I’m gonna come, I-”

Negans suddenly right over him, his breath ghosting over his mouth again. “Carl. Baby, relax for me, okay? Just stop fighting it. Come for me.”

And so he does, but not before Negans moves his mouth down to his dick and he’s swallowing him down. And then it’s really too much and he comes, his hands digging at Negans hair and his back arching into him as much as he can. He lets out a moan so lewd and desperate that it shocks him, because he’s never heard anything come out of him quite like that. 

Negan sucks on him, milking every bit of come he can from him and Carls left as a whimpering mess. He pulls off of Carl with a grin, and makes his way up to him. Carl doesn’t say anything, just breathlessly pulls Negan towards him and opens his mouth to kiss him, wanting to taste himself again on Negan, and he encourages him to lick inside his mouth all over. Finally Negan pulls back from him and just looks down at him with a look of complete and total affection written all over his face. It’s that look that makes Carl go still, makes him stop for a moment and just let the bliss he was feeling wash over him. Almost timidly, Carls fingers start to trace all over the man’s beard and jawline, and he’s quiet for a moment. 

“Negan…” he finally says softly. 

“What baby?” Negan asks, his mouth going into the crook of Carls neck, breathing him in. 

“Neeg please.” Carl pleads. Negan takes him in a deep, open mouth kiss, his tongue mapping out every bit he  can find. 

“You want me inside of you, baby?” Negan murmurs to him and Carl just sighs out at those words. 

“God, yes.”

He hears the sound of what must be the bottle of lube again and then lets out a little gasp when he feels Negans dick against him. 

“Carl.” Negans voice pulls him from his daze. “Just look at me. Relax.”

So Carl does, and he watches the man’s face get all screwed up in pleasure as he pushes into him. And while it’s a familiar burn it’s also something new entirely, because Negans notably bigger than anything else that’s ever been inside of him. His hands fly to Negans back, digging in enough to bleed, as he feels himself stretch around the mans dick, and it's painful but in a good way. 

“You okay?”

Carl just nods, a little whimper escaping him. 

“I know baby, I’ll go slow.”  Negan coos to him. He slides in a little more and stops, staring down at Carl, and it’s quiet in the room, save for their breathing. Negan reaches down and puts a hand on his face, running his thumb along his cheek and it’s so tender that it catches Carl in surprise. 

“Doing so good for me, Carl.” The man whispers out gently, and Negan starts kissing him all over his chin and cheek and jaw. Carls not even aware that Negan had been pushing himself into him further because he’d been so focused on everything else that it’s a surprise when he feels skin against him and knows Negan must be bottoming out. And shit,  he really has no idea how it’s possible that Negan is going to fuck him, when the man’s dick barely fits inside him. 

“Shit.” Negan growls out. “So damn tight. It’s like you were made to take my dick. I wanna feel you come when I’m inside you. Feel this tight little hole get even tighter when you clamp down on my dick.” 

Carls brain flatlines. He’s never heard filthiness come out of anyone's mouth quite like that, save for some shitty pornos. But now that it’s directed at him he doesn’t know what to do with it. He doesn’t know how to separate the Negan that was just caressing his cheek and whispering sweet nothings to him from this Negan and it makes his head spin.

He only knows he wants more, that he wants Negan to swallow him whole. He doesn’t want to come up again for air, he wants this and this alone. He wants his problems and his shitty life to fall away and exist only for Negan. It’s at that thought that he feels something carnal starting to claw its way out of him. Something that makes him feel like he wants to be reduced to nothing more than something for Negan to use. 

And slowly, Negan starts to move and he lets out a little gasp and it’s almost too much but somehow it’s not enough, and he savors every second of it. He feels himself relax and loosen up with every movement inside of him that the man makes. Negan sits up a little suddenly, and grabs Carls legs and spreads them just little more, and when he pushes into him the next time he goes just a bit deeper and a sharp moan leaves Carl when he finds that spot in him that has him barely able to breathe, let alone think. 

“There you are.” Negan says softly and it doesn’t take long for Carl to feel overwhelmed by everything, as Negan pushes into him again and again, hitting that spot everytime. 

“Good boy.” Negan purrs into his ear, because he knows Carl is getting close again, and he needs to feel that tight hole tighten even more around him as he comes on his dick. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that the kid had a praise kink. It was so obvious and Negan knew he wasn’t going to be able to resist using it to his advantage. “Can you be a good boy and come for me again, baby?” He whispers, nipping at his ear, and his hand wrapping around Carls dick, and it's not long before he loses himself. 

“Daddy. Daddy, fuck.” Carl moans out, and he’s coming again, coating his stomach, and Negan fucks him through it and it’s too much, until Negan stops entirely. He feels that all encompassing bliss start to settle over him again almost immediately.

Negan looks down at him and before Carl even realizes what’s happening Negans tongue is flat against his stomach and he’s licking the come off of it, lapping and sucking at it until he’s licked him clean. Carl sits up on his elbows to watch and the sight makes Carl dizzy- it’s almost too much. And then Negans moving up towards him, and his hand grabs Carls jaw, forcing his mouth open. Negans tongue slides inside his mouth, and Carl can taste himself, can feel his own come on the man’s tongue now on his own, and it’s intoxicating and filthy and he feels high off of it. 

“You taste good, baby.” Negan murmurs into Carls mouth, and the man licks over his teeth and sucks on his bottom lip for a moment. Carl feels Negans hand move down to his stomach again, and the man collects the small bit of come that he hadn’t licked clean off his stomach before and runs his fingers through it. He brings his middle finger to Carl's mouth, and Carl opens right away for him and sucks the come off of it, almost lazily because he’s starting to feel sated and exhausted. Still, his eye doesn’t leave Negan, and the man smirks at him. 

“Good boy.” He praises him. 

Carl stares at him with sheer adoration and then lays back onto the couch. 

“Come inside me.” He whispers softly, but without hesitation. 

“Yeah?” Negan asks him, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. 

Carl nods. Negan leans down to him again, pulling their mouths together again and kissing him as deep as he can. Negan hooks Carls legs over his shoulders, and Carls so relaxed that he just lets out a little huff when Negan slides back into him, feeling himself stretch around the mans dick again. 

“You know what I’m going to be thinking about tomorrow? Your tight little hole still leaking my come.”

Carl moans for him, and Negan smirks down at him. 

“You like that? You want that, baby boy?” 

Carl nods feverishly, words failing him. Negan takes his arms and pins them above his head, and pushes down on him and suddenly a feeling that he can’t quite place slips over him, almost blanketing him. Negan fucks into him, hard, but Carls in too sated of a state to even meet the man’s thrusts into him. He’s a loose limbed, fucked out wreck and all he can do is lay there and take it as he lets Negan use him- and immediately he knows he likes it. Something clicks in him and he realizes he wants to feel like this. His mind is blank, and for just a moment, the world outside of Negan ceases to exist entirely. Negans staring at him so intently that it almost makes him feel just the smallest bit of heat again in his stomach. Which is almost impossible, Carl thinks. He can't possibly still feel turned on. 

Negans breathing becomes uneven, and Carl knows he must be getting close and oh shit , now he can feel how Negans dick is throbbing inside of him and how it seems to fill him even more.

“ Fuck…” Negan growls out, and Carl could actually feel the man coming inside of him. All he could do was let out a little whimper while his nails dug into the man’s back, pushing him inside of as far as he could, wanting his come inside him as deep as possibe. Wanting to be owned, to be his.  Finally, Negan almost collapses on him until he very deftly in one movement pulls Carl up, falls back down to the couch, and pulls Carl to him with both arms so Carl was half on top of him, his head resting on his chest. 

Negans breathing starts to even out, and he lets out a chuckle.

“Shit, kid. That was...damn. That was good."  

“Yeah?” Carl says in a small, uncertain little way, voicing the thoughts finally that had been his worry for some time now. He was young after all, and his sexual experience was limited to him and Ron’s rather vanilla fucking, and the thought of being with Negan had just been intimidating. 

“Yeah.” Negan says with a grin and with such sincerity that Carl believes him. The man runs his hands through his hair and brings his forehead to Carls, and in a stange, gentle gesture rubs his nose against Carls. 

“You are so goddamn adorable .” Negan whispers to him. 

Carl laughs, and Negan just chuckles at his reaction. They stay like that for quite awhile, with Negan just staring at him affectionately, running his fingers through his hair, and every so often the man kisses him gently on his cheek right under his healing eye. He pulls back finally and looks at him with a mixed expression. 

“Kid I ain’t gonna lie- you scare the shit out of me.” 

Carl didn’t say anything but he just questions him with his look. 

“I wasn’t supposed to care about anyone after…her. Then little ol’ you came along and…”

“Fucked your shit up?”

“Yep.” Negan laughs. “That’s exactly what you did.” 

Negan continues to stare at him, and run his hand through Carls hair. And Carl knows the way Negan is looking at him is saying something. It’s saying a whole lot. He chooses not to dwell on it though, and instead starts to succumb to the sleep that’s been pulling at him. And he knows, he knows that their entire situation is fucked. He knows he's too young, he knows Lucille just died, that Ron just died, that there's a million reasons why he shouldn't be laying on this couch right now with him. But, somehow, it feels right. And for some reason, Lucilles words come to his mind at that moment. Take care of him for me, okay? He had asked her what she had meant, and she had just said you'll know. He wonders vaguely if she had known more than she had let on. That maybe, in some fucked up way, she knew they would need each other. 

As Negan watches him fall asleep he thinks it’s a good look on him and wishes he could always see Carl look this peaceful and relaxed. 

They stay like that, until Negan feels he’s on the edge of falling asleep and he knows he absolutely cannot fall asleep on Lori Grimes’ couch with her naked son sleeping on him who he’s supposed to be…well he’s not sure what his role is here, but he’s definitely not supposed to be fucking him, that’s for sure. Carl, though, is definitely already passed out on his chest. 

He finally makes the decision that it’s best they head somewhere that’s not Lori’s living room, and so Negan wraps Carl in a blanket and gets dressed. He carries him upstairs, and when he puts him down Carl makes a little noise and grabs for him, and Negan is suddenly aware that he isn't going anywhere that isn’t right next to him. Carl peeks an eye open at him and smiles at him. 

Carls rather hot and cold usually, so this is a welcome surprise. He’s unpredictable and hard to read and just seems against admitting that he wants any kind of affection from the man. But Negan knows immediately that, at least right now, he’s broken that part of him, and Carl is letting himself just have what he wants. It’s goddamn perfect. 

***

Carls mind is a blissful, blank slate. He's thoroughly fucked out. For once, things are calm in his mind, and all he can think about or feel is the sated feeling running through him. It’s absolutely mind numbing. He’d heard that expression before, but he always thought that’s all it was- a bullshit expression. But this, this was good. This was all he wanted to feel for the rest of his life. It was a similar high to his pain meds, but better.  So much better. 

“Everything is just….quiet, for once. Thank you.” Carl curls into the man, and he’s about as close as he can be to him. Negan chuckles at him. 

“You are such a clingy little perfect thing right now. Fuckin’ adorable.” Negan murmurs, a hand running through his hair. 

“Sorry, ‘’m not usually like this.” Carl whispers, and yet he moves somehow even closer to him. 

“Shit kid, you be as clingy as you want. I love it.” Negan whispers to him. He shifts and Carl whines a little, his hand going to grip the man’s arm as tight as he can. 

“Shh. I’m just gonna get some water, okay? You want your sleep meds?”

Carl shakes his head. “Don’t need ‘em just you come back.” He mumbles out in one adorable little heap of incoherence mixed with sleep and, damn, Negan melts at that. Carl was like the gift they kept on giving for him. 

Somehow, Negan manages to extract himself and goes to grab his water and Judiths baby monitor that Lori had left on the kitchen counter, and he’s sure Carl is going to be sound asleep by the time he comes back up. But, no, there’s Carls wide ass awake one little eye peeking out from under his blanket when he makes his way back into the room, waiting for him, and Negan chuckles at him. 

Negan slides in next to him and within a second Carl has morphed them into one heap under the blankets, leaching whatever contact and warmth he can from the man. He shifts a little, trying to get comfortable, and then eventually he just huffs out a little sigh of contentment and goes still. 

“Goddamn, kid.” Negan murmurs to him, absentmindedly, his hand running through his hair. “I lo-” 

Negan stops himself, and it’s like a fucking truck had just hit him. What? What had he almost just said? 

He internally panics but then realizes there’s a simple explanation for this. He’s just used to saying it with Lucille. That’s all. That’s all it was. He hadn’t even been thinking when he had said it, he had just said it, like it was natural. 

If Carl had heard him, he gives no indication. He just continues to cling to him, all needy and vulnerable for once, and Negan wonders how the hell he ended up here. He lays listening to Carls breathing next to him, silently thinking that he wouldn't mind if he spent every night with Carl like this from here on out. He was just about to fall asleep when Carl suddenly whimpered in his arms, and Negan almost jumped up from the half dazed state he was in. 

“Shh.” He whispers to him. “‘S’okay, I’m here. I’m here, baby boy.”

Carl jumps a little in his sleep and he clings impossibly closer to him, another little whimper escaping him that kills Negan to hear. It's almost physically painful to him. 

“Carl. Shhhh. I'm right here. It’s me. You’re safe. You’re with me now. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” 

As soon as he puts a hand in his hair Carls breathing seemed to even out and he goes still again. Negan looks down at him again, and kisses his hair. 

Carl didn’t owe him the time of day. Didn’t owe anyone anything. He’d been through more in the last few weeks than most people had in their entire life. Yet here he was, curled up in his arms, sound asleep, after giving himself over completely to him. His hair is all askew and he’s adorable, and he’s in one of those deep sleeps that is only reached after feeling bone-deep satisfaction. 

In his head Negan thinks what a mix of emotions this kid must be right now. The list of things he’d been through recently is infinitely long. His dad in a coma. His moms drinking problem. A newborn sister- it seemed insignificant compared to everything else, but really, that’d be enough to throw any highschooler off. Lucille dying. Shane attacking him that one night that seemed so long ago. Ron killing himself, and shooting him. Losing half of his goddamn face. And now Shane again, who Carl should have been able to trust, completely shattering any semblance of safety he had with adults in his life- yet somehow he trusted Negan. He felt like he was missing something. 

Oh. Yeah. Negan, himself. Sleeping with a man old enough to be his dad. Sure. That was something Carl needed. And yet all Negan can picture is that same kid sitting at his kitchen island, wrapped in a blanket, trying to study as best as he can through everything. In a normal life, school should have been his biggest worry. Getting into college, having a girlfriend. Not any of this shit that had been thrown at him. 

He was a tough little shit. Negan kisses his hair silently and holds him, feeling a fierce, almost indescribable wave of protectiveness run through him. No one was going to take Carl from him. 

Chapter Text

Carls not shocked the next day when he wakes up to an empty bed, but he’s more disappointed than he imagined he would be. He lays there for quite some time, turning the events of the previous evening over in his head. Everything from last night is all a blur, but at the same time he can remember every tiny detail. Negan had thoroughly taken care of him, that much he knew. For just one night he’d been able to turn off his mind, to forget everything, to focus on the one thing that gave him any kind of happiness. 

But now, in the harsh light of morning, last night all seems like a dream. His face is killing him, and he has a pounding headache.  Even though it had been weeks since he was shot it still feels like he has little razor blades being dug into his eyeball that no longer exists. It just feels like it still exists. Painfully. 

He wishes more than anything that he had woken up with Negan still in bed with him. He would never bring himself to actually accept it, but a part of him wanted- no, needed - the reassurance that it all hadn’t just been some big mistake to the man. He wanted to feel him next to him, wanted him to kiss him all over and hold him, wanted him to reassure Carl that it all hadn’t been some very vivid figment of his imagination. Based on the equal bliss and soreness that’s still running through the entirety of his body, though, it had all been very real. 

After a while he knows he’s laid there long enough, and he finally forces himself to get up. He barely looks at himself in his bedroom mirror but the quick glance he does catch is almost comical- he’s a disaster . He has ridiculous sex hair, no banadage, and there’s an actual line embedded into his face across his cheek from his pillow because he had been sleeping so hard from being actually fucked to sleep. He pulls on boxers and runs a hand through his hair to tame it, but at this point it’s absolutely useless. The mark on his neck had worsened, and he feels a little triumphant about that. When his hand ran over the sore spot anytime in the next few days he wanted to think about Negan, and Negan alone. 

Lori was probably waiting for him to wake up so she could finally sleep after her night shift, but he also had to have her put on a new bandage for him before she did. He walks out of his room with a yawn and has his hands over his head trying to stretch out the kinks in his back from last night when none other than Negan appears, walking up the stairs. 

Damn this man and his horribly timed appearances. 

For just one second he feels frozen, hesitant with that feeling of inadequacy that always seems to hit him at the worst moments. And then Negan grins at him and he relaxes instantly. 

“Hey, you.” Negan says gently to him. His eyes are soft, and so is his smile. There's a different air about him than usual. He seems relaxed, almost sated, and Carl likes this look on him. He just grins at him, and closes the distance between them.

“Hey. You’re still here?” Carl says as casually as he can, trying his best to act like Negan didn't’ just catch him mid-yawn and looking like a half naked fool, and that he’s absolutely elated that the man is still there. But Negan is quick to wrap his arms around him, and pull him to him tightly. Apparently he wasn’t overly worried about Lori walking up the stairs. 

“Sure am. You mom wouldn’t send me off without making pancakes- “

“Oh no .” Carl laments, because he knows how bad those pancakes are. 

“Yeah. Yeah, they’re god awful.” Negan chuckles, and Carl shuffles impossibly closer to him. 

“They are. Are they stuck to the roof of your mouth?“ He asks with a grin, looking up at him. 

The man just smiles at him. “For eternity.”

Negan doesn’t wait another second. He kisses him gently, and ends up backing him into his room. Once they’re inside he closes the door in a rush. Negans hands are all over him, pushing him more into the door, and the man grinds his hips just slightly into Carl. But it was a tease because Negan quickly pulls away with a grin. Carl sighs out, frustrated, as Negan takes a step back to look at him. 

“You know how goddamn adorable you were last night?”

Carl rolls his eye at that. “I'm not adorable.” 

“Oh but you were . All clingy and cute.” He has the biggest shit eating grin on his face, and it sends Carl up a wall. 

“I’m not clingy!” He says defensively. 

“Kid I had to fucking extract myself from your grasp like I was going on a Navy Seal mission. You were not letting me go.”

“That's a little dramatic, Negan. ” He folds his arms and looks at him with something that might be defiance, but Negan just stares at him, taking him in all in, his tongue running over his teeth. 

“Mmhmm. C’mere.”

Negans hand goes to the back of his head and pulls him towards him. He kisses him on the forehead and then looks down at him with an intensity that makes Carl almost shrink in place. 

“You okay?” Negan asks him gently. 

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” Carls confused, and on edge now. Every time he thinks Negan is going to take this somewhere he changes course rather abruptly. Negan just stares down at him affectionately. 

“After…last night. Things are gonna be different between us now. You know that right?” 

“I…okay.” Carl says rather timidly, trying to figure out exactly what that meant. He doesn’t have long to dwell on it though. 

“Shit.” Negans hand goes to the mark on his neck that he substantially worsened last night. “You’re gonna have to hide this from your mom, you know that right?” 

“She’ll just think it’s from Shane.” He shrugs. “I showed her it. I mean….I told her basically everything.” 

Negan kisses his forehead one more time. “You’re a tough little shit, you know that? I know that telling her couldn’t have been easy.” 

“It wasn’t hard to tell her, it just…it all came out. I couldn’t not tell her anymore.” And it was true. It was like a secret inside of him that had been eating him alive, and if he hadn’t gotten it out he didn’t think he could have handled being around her much longer. 

Negan pulls him to him again and runs a hand through his hair. 

“I mean it. He’s not going to lay another hand on you. You’re mine now, okay?” 

Carl nods, and smiles a little at him. 

***

One thing he never expected to find himself doing was buying toilet paper with Negan and his baby sister, but that’s exactly what he was. 

Apparently the “bear attack” that they had seen really wasn’t an isolated incident. It was happening everywhere now. Carl really had no idea what was happening- and it didn’t seem like anyone else knew either. 

“Meth addicts eatin’ bath salts. ” Is all Negan had mumbled to him when Carl asked what his theories were. But as with the threat of any apocalypse, pandemic or epidemic people had started to panic buy. They’d left Lori to sleep finally after her shift, and since Negan was out of work until the entire Shane debacle was settled they volunteered to go pick some things up before there was nothing left. The biggest thing that Carl was worried about was formula for Judith. Negans biggest concern was beer, and maybe cat food. 

Carl hadn’t exactly been a frequent shopper recently given his recent near death injury, but he’s startled by the amount of people at the store, and he has a feeling it’s not normal. The shelves were almost bare, and that just confirms his suspicions that something is off.  There was still enough of every staple they needed, but Carls alarmed. He’d never seen anything like this before. 

“Where the fuck is all the toilet paper?” Negan asks, annoyed when they realize there’s none left. “I mean I get stocking up on food, but fuckin’ toilet paper?” 

“What exactly do people think is going on?” 

“Who the fuck knows. But at least they’ll all have toilet paper. Forget food and ammo, as long as you have friggin’ toilet paper, I guess ….. We’re goin’ to Cabela's next for ammo, forget this.” 

It doesn’t take long for Carl to realize people are staring at him as they walk by. He hates it, and he wants to stab each and every single one of them in the eyeball so they know what it’s like.  He glares right back at them and every single time they look away quickly because they know he’s caught them looking. 

He suddenly just wants to go home, away from the stares. But as he’s walking through the store Enid texts to check on him. He makes small talk with her and then she finally messages him and asks if he wants to get out of the house for a bit. That they miss him. And as much as he wants to see his friend, he’s also nervous about being around anyone. This shopping trip alone with Negan has been almost more than enough today. 

Negan must have noticed him turning over the idea in his head because he finally asks him what was going on. 

“Oh. Just. Enid texted me. She wants me to…hang out.”

“You should go.” Negan says encouragingly, as they finally head to the beer aisle. 

Carl shrugs. “I don’t know if I’m up for that yet.” 

Negan just nods at him, understanding. “ Well, I guarantee you it’s not going to be any different than it was before, kid. She's still your friend.”

“I know. I’m just…I dunno.” Because he doesn’t know what he wants. 

“Hey, bein’ with them beats hanging out with me.”

“Does not.” And then Carl stops and thinks about it for something for a minute. “Would…” he starts and then stops. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” He mumbles quickly. 

“Carl, what?”

“It's just. I can’t drive yet with my eye, and…”

“You want a ride to Alden’s?” Negan asks quickly, happy that Carl had given in. 

“I- yes?” 

“I can do that. Just let me know when you want me to come get you and take you home.” Negan says it casually, like it’s not a big deal- because it really is no big deal, but to Carl it means the world. 

Carls face shouldn’t light up the way it does at the very small gesture and it brings a strange wave of sadness over Negan. If there was one thing that he wanted to change about the kid, it was that he would get used to being taken care of a little more often. 

When he calls Lori to tell her he’s going to go to Enids that night he can actually hear the smile in her voice. She must be thrilled that he’s doing something normal . He even slips in that he might just be staying overnight at Alden and Enids apartment above the bar in an effort to maybe sneak in another night with Negan. 

***

Negan drops him off a few hours later outside of the bar, and he already feels tired- and he can’t imagine being able to stay out long at all. 

“Thanks, Negan.” He says as he gets out of his truck. 

“Anytime. Text me when you want a home, alright?”

Carl just nods at him but Negan catches him on the way out. “Hey. You get back here.”

“Wha-”

He’s caught off guard by Negan dragging him back and pulling him in for a kiss that’s actually rather sweet. He takes his time with it, slowly licking into his mouth, making sure he left Carl flustered and wanting more later. 

“Alright. Free to go, sir.” Negan chuckles at him once he pulls back, but Carl just laughs and goes in to kiss him one more time. 

“I’ll see you later?”

“Uh huh. Your mom think you’re stayin’ with Enid?”

He nods. 

“Good. Monopoly rematch tonight.” Negan winks at him and watches as he gets out. 

“Oh, wanna play Monopoly? I thought you’d wanna fuck me. But, okay, that’s fine.” Carl shrugs with a grin, and Negan just shakes his head at him and does not stop smiling the entire way home. 

***

“Bout time you showed up!” Enid greets him happily as he walks into the bar. Alden and her were behind the bar, and she runs out to see him. 

“Thanks for dragging me out, E. Hey, Alden.” 

“Cone on!” Enid grabs his hand and drags him over to a table in the middle of the bar. 

“What’s goin’ on…?” He notices then that Alden’s going to lock the front door. 

“We’re closed for the night.” He shrugs with a smile. “Enid wanted to hang out with just you….And a few select others.”

Just then Glenn, Maggie and Beth come down the stairs with a ridiculous amount of pizza in tow. He sits there in shock as he sees all his friends come to join him. 

For just one fleeting second he feels overwhelmed, but as soon as Glenn sits down next to him he realizes he’s fine. These are his friends. They aren’t looking at him with that mix of pity and sadness. They’re just looking at him like they missed him- and he realizes how much he missed them. It’s a very small bit of normalcy in his otherwise very un-normal existence. 

And for just a few hours everything seems a little simpler and normal and he forgets about the constant pain in his face or the fact that his life has taken a very strange turn and he’s now sleeping with a man old enough to be his father. 

They talk about everything and nothing. He’d missed a lot in the last few weeks. Maggie and Glenn were way more serious than they had been the last time he had talked to them. They both had been accepted to Auburn and were planning on going together. 

Beth was a year younger than all of them, but she always seemed to fit right in. Maggie never had a problem with her tagging along. She even had a crush as well, according to Maggie, which she divulged much to Beth’s dismay. Daryl frequented the Greenes farm whenever anything went away mechanically, and apparently he’d been around more often than usual recently- it was almost like he was coming up with excuses to be around her in particular. Carl silently found it a relief that someone other than him was trying to hook up with a much older man. 

But his little bubble of happiness is burst when he goes up to get a coke from behind the bar and he finds Alden, who had been cleaning, completely transfixed by something on his phone. He jumps a little when Carl walks up behind him. 

“You seen this?” Alden slides his phone over to let Carl watch and it looks like it’s a rather chaotic YouTube video of police officers continuously shooting someone- only the man being shot at isn’t stopping, despite being hit numerous times. 

“What the fuck?” Carl asks under his breath. “That's…not real.” 

Alden shrugs. “Who the fuck knows. If it is real, that’d be some crazy shit.” 

He sits there for awhile longer, watching the video again. The whole thing just made him uneasy. 

“Yesh it would be. Hey, thanks for closing down tonight and everything. You didn’t have to do this.” He finally says. 

“I needed a night off. And what do they say? Happy girlfriend, happy Alden?” 

Carl laughs at him. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. You know- I miss working here. A lot, actually. I wish things were just…normal again.” 

“You always have a job here, Carl. Whenever you wanna come back. But don’t be in a rush. Believe me, we’ll still be here.” 

The rest of the night passes in a happy blur. Things almost seemed normal , if normal was his dad being in a coma, him having one eye, and sleeping with a man more than twice his age. 

Completely normal. 

***

“I have pizza for you!” Carl says with a grin as he climbs into Negans truck. But he’s not met with any kind of smile back. 

“What- what’s wrong?” Carl knows something’s up just by Negans look alone. The man just shakes his head and reverses his truck, and doesn’t say anything. Negan never doesn’t not say something. 

“Negan?” Carl asks again, pressing him. He’s just met with more silence until the man finally talks.  

“Shane was in the parking lot when I pulled in.” Negan finally says quietly.

 “Oh.” Carl says shortly. Oh . “You sure it was him?” 

“Oh yeah. It was his patrol car, I’d know it anywhere.” 

Carl just sits there quietly for most of the rest of the ride, chewing on his lip until Negan finally seems to come out of his daze. He puts a hand on Carl's knee and sighs. 

“Sorry, kid. I’m just pissed, and I go quiet when I’m pissed.” 

Carl looks at him with a worried expression but doesn’t say anything. 

“I'm sorry he won’t stop.” 

“Hey. No. You stop. You didn’t ask for this. I mean it. He’s not going to lay another finger on you. You don’t have anything to worry about. Just don’t like him skulking around. Like he’s fuckin’ stalking you or some shit.” 

Carl brazenly reaches out for his hand and Negan quickly takes it, locking their fingers together and smiling at him. Negan runs his thumb along his hand in as comforting of a manner as he could. 

“So, how was it?” 

“Good.” But he says it with a hint of sadness. Because it had been great, until Shane had to go and ruin it. “It was actually really good. I’m glad I went.”

“Yeah?”

Carl nods. “It wasn’t just Alden and Enid, they surprised me. Everyone was there and I thought it would be too much but it was…great.” 

“Good. You deserved a night like that, kid. You alright?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just really tired now.” He says very quietly, because he is. He hasn’t had that much social interaction in months. And it was all rather exhausting, compounded with the stress he feels about Shane now. 

“I know, baby. We’ll get you home. I can even lock up Fat Joey and Simon so they don’t walk all over your bladder all night.” 

Negan was a definite romantic, Carl decides. 

***

It’s not much later that Carls curled up comfortably in Negans bed, almost half asleep. Negans still downstairs, and Carls waiting for him to come up but he vaguely wonders if he will even have his eye open by the time the man even gets to the bed.

He feels the bed shift and Negans sliding in next to him, pulling the covers over them. 

“Hi, you.” The man says to him. Carl just lets out what ends up being a small little whimper because he’s so tired, and cuddles into him. He looks up at him and his hands go around Negans waist pulling him in a little to him, kneading at him, and the man instantly knows what he’s getting at. Carls just enjoying the feeling of someone next to him, of the comfort and familiarity he’s starting to bring now- and part of him wants more. But he’s also dead tired. 

“Hey. No .” Negan says softly to him. “Look at you. You can’t even keep your eyes open. Get some rest, baby.”

“ Eye . I only have one eye.”

Negan laughs, and the feeling of his chest rising as Carl lays against him is soothing to him. He makes a noise and closes his eye, curling into him more and trying to get as close as absolutely possible, which just confirms that Negan was right about how tired he was. 

“Hey Neeg?” He whispers out after a moment. “Can you grab my meds for me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. They’re right here. I already brought them up for you.” 

Carl smiles, because of course he had. 

“You want to get them out yourself, so you know…”

Carl just shakes his head. “No, no it’s okay.”

Negans heart soars a little, even though it’s a ridiculous thing to feel elation over. Carl takes them and almost dives back into Negans chest, burrowing himself into the man and huffing out a small little sigh of contentment once he’s comfortable. 

“M’sorry.” Carl mumbles out him after a moment. 

“What?” Negan asks, confused. 

“We have a whole night alone and all I wanna do is sleep.” 

“Go to sleep, baby. I’m right here. And I’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”

Carls too tired to say anything. He just closes his eye, his hands twisting up in the man’s shirt and breathing him in. 

“I really like you.” Carl says in barely a whisper as he slips into sleep. 

Negan chuckles and kisses his hair. “I really like you too, kid. Get some sleep for me, okay?” 

Carls asleep by the time Negan finishes his sentence. 

Eventually Negan whispers out to the dark, into his hair an ‘I love you’, but Carl isn’t awake to hear it. 

***

Carls stress over Shane settles into this mind, and his sleep is unsettled despite the fact that Negan is right next to him. He’s up and down all night, reaching out for Negan and finding him numerous times, and the man tries to soothe him and murmur little nothings to him to calm him down.  After the third time Negan tells him that he’s not going back to sleep, that he’ll stay up to watch over him, hoping it will give him just a small amount of comfort. And it works- Carl finally sleeps a longer stretch- but it only results in him having even more severe nightmares since he’s slipped into a deeper sleep. 

“Get off me!” Carl flies up off the bed, hitting out at him. Negan grabs him and pulls him towards him, but Carl still tries to lash out at him, and to his credit he gets a good smack in to Negans face. 

“Carl, Carl. Hey,  hey kid. It’s me . It’s me.” 

Carls eye pops open in shock and he sits up, looking around the room in confusion. Terror is written all over his face, unlike Negan hadn’t seen before. 

“Neeg?” He asks in a shaky voice. 

“Hey, yeah. It’s just me. You’re okay. ” 

Carl runs a hand over his forehead, trying to make his mind work again. 

“C’mere baby.” Negan says softly, and Carl quickly almost dives onto his chest, Negans arms wrapping around him tightly. “I got you. ” 

“Why do you think he was out there tonight?” Carl whispers, after a long silence. 

Negan doesn’t reply immediately. “I dunno, to be honest with you. Maybe he thought you’d be alone. Probably wasn’t expecting me to show up.” 

“But how’d he know? How’d he know where I was? ” He finally asks the question that’s been on his mind all day. He feels Negan shake his head. 

“I don’t know that, either, Carl. I don’t know what his endgame is here, or what he wants, or…I don’t…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Negan says softly, and genuinely. 

“You know I spent a lot of time feeling like I failed Lucille.” Negan says out of nowhere. Carl looks up at him in surprise. ‘Feels like I’m failing you right now, too. I’m tryin’ though. I promise.” 

‘I- I know, Neeg. You- you’re not failing me. You’re the only one helping me. At all.”

Negan just stays silent for a moment, and runs a hand through his hair.

“Try and get some rest for me, okay sweet boy? No one’s comin’ for you. I’m right here.” 

***

When Carl wakes up the next day it’s to two eyes looking at him. Not Negan, because the man is passed out next to him actually drooling. Instead it’s an 18 pound ball of fluff that has taken up residency on his bladder. 

“Git off Fat Joey.” He grumbles out and pushes him off. He sets off for the bathroom and almost trips nine times from Simon getting in between his feet. As soon as he gets back into the room he has an idea .

Negan is sleeping soundly, and Carl feels like he owes him for last night. 

He slides in back next to him as slowly as possible, but Negan is out cold , probably because Carl had kept him up all night. He goes under the covers and finds that Negan, of course, is already hard since it’s the morning and he slowly takes him into his mouth. He’s gentle at first, not wanting to completely startle him out of sleep. 

He hears Negans breathing change after a moment, and the man moves a little. His hand goes to Carls head which is still under the covers almost immediately and he lets out a small little huff. 

“Whattha-” he mumbles out sleepily, but it turns into a moan as Carl sucks a little harder. “ Fuck.” 

Negan pulls back the covers and looks down at him with a grin. Carl just looks up at him through his eyelashes and Negans hand goes to his cheek. 

“Damn boy. You can wake me up like this anyti- shiiit.” Negans interrupted by Carl hollowing out his cheeks and moaning around his cock, and Negans hand goes right to his hair, but he’s gentle at first. But when he feels the hand in his hair Carl looks up at him immediately and lets out a little whimper and almost nods at him, and Negan knows right away what he wants. He takes the hand in his hair and works his fingers through it until they’re touching his scalp and pulls, and Carl really moans around him at that. 

“This what you want, sweetheart?”

Carl nods and moves his tongue just right over the head of Negans dick.

“Ah fuck, Carl , Jesus Christ.” He sighs out, pushing Carl down on him until he feels his cock hit the back of his throat. Carl chokes slightly but it doesn’t seem to deter him- if anything, when he goes back down he takes Negan just as deeply as he did before, but this time he’s anticipating it and he’s able to relax his throat enough to swallow him whole.

“Oh just look at you , baby boy. That’s it.” Negan praises him, his hand now gently running through his hair, only pushing him down a little here and there. “S’like you were made to suck my cock.”

Negan suddenly grips Carl's hair tightly and pulls him off all the way, and Carl looks up at him with desperation written all of his face. He whimpers a little and tries to move towards him again, but Negan firmly holds him where he’s at. 

“Such a good, little cock starved boy.”  Negan murmurs lowly to him. Carl moans again, and his fingers claw a little at the man’s hips, begging him to let him get closer, his tongue sliding out between his teeth. 

“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell daddy what you want.” Negan coos out, and Carl just glares at him for a moment, which makes him laugh. Of course he wouldn’t give in immediately- Carl was stubborn. But his resolve breaks quickly. 

“I want you to make me choke on your dick.” He says, not breaking eye contact with Negan. And of all the things he’d expected his sweet, shy boy to say that was absolutely not one of them. 

“Fuckin’ shit .” Negan growls out, and it’s like someone had lit a fire in him and he can’t possibly say no to Carl when he talks to him like that . He takes him by the hair and forces him down on his cock again, and he doesn’t let Carl have a say. He knows instinctively that this is what Carl wants. What he needs. A need to exist on for Negan, and to shut everything else off. 

The noises Negan pulls out of him are absolutely sinful. Carls sucking his cock like he’s starved for it, he’s moaning and panting and is a mess. This isn’t the Carl that he thought he knew. 

He has no gag reflex at all, and Negan can fuck into the tight heat of his mouth without worrying about a thing. He pushes Carl down on his cock forcefully, but it’s more for show- Negan didn’t have to do anything, really. Carl was already taking him deep enough down his throat without needing encouragement. 

“Carl, look at me.” Negan says firmly, and moves his hand in his hair to make Carl look up at him. He knows how keyed up he is. He knows he’s on edge, he knows he can almost get Carl to come untouched just from making him suck his cock, and it’s a total and complete high.

“C’mere.” And he grabs Carl quickly and pulls him up to him. As soon as carls in his lap Negan holds his hand out. 

“Spit on that baby.” He says, and Carl does, and then licks his hand greedily. Negan quickly pulls his hand away, and wraps his hand around Carls dick, working it slowy. 

“Fuck. You almost came just from sucking on my dick, didn’t you?” Negan murmurs to him, almost in awe. “Didn’t know you’d be such a cock slut, but this is a pleasant surprise.” Negan kisses him, deeply, and Iicks all over the inside of his mouth. Carl moans out once Negan hand starts to really work him, and he knows he isn’t going to last long.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me. Show daddy how much you like choking on his cock.” And that does it. Carl comes with a shout, his hand going to dig into Negans shoulder. Negan doesn’t give him even a minute. His hand that isn’t on his dick goes to his jaw, and pulls him to him, fucking him with his tongue. His other hand milks him through his release, until Carl is over-sensitive and a mess in his lap, letting out little cries. Carl collapses onto his chest, and lays there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He recovers quickly though. He goes to kiss Negan, but it’s rough and fast and Negan puts a hand in his hair and pulls him back gently and just looks at him for a moment. 

“Anyone ever taken their time with you?”

“Huh?” Carl asks, confused. He’s still a flushed, blissed out wreck, but Negan can tell he wants more. 

But he doesn't want to be rough with him anymore. He wants to be sweet on his boy. Show him how good slow can be. Negans hand goes to his back, his fingers kneading into the small of his back and running circles over it.

“You’re just always in such a rush. And that’s a shame because you are such a sweet little thing. I know that you like it rough, and that’s okay. But- the worlds been too rough with you. Just… let me be soft with you just this once. I need it, baby.” 

Carl gives a small little nod, and a little whimper, and Negan puts a hand on his chin, very gently. Before he even realizes what’s happening Negan has flipped them and the man is over him, staring at him almost with reverence . 

Negan goes to kiss him, but differently this time. It’s slower, almost lazily, like Negan really is taking the time to get to know him. He doesn’t mean to, but Carl lets out a soft little moan and just lets himself melt into Negans touch. He wraps his arms around the man’s neck but doesn’t hold on to him tightly. It’s more of a reminder that the man is there, and he wants to keep him there. 

“That’s it, sweet boy.” Negan murmurs into his ear. “Just let yourself go.”

And so he does. He lets himself forget about everything else and focuses just on Negan. And once again his world becomes just him and Negan, and everything else mercifully falls away. He’d never been one to think he would enjoy sex that didn’t have at least a small bit of roughness with it- that was what he had gotten used to with Ron- but this was blissful. 

Everything about the morning from there on out was slow and drawn out. Negan made it very apparent that he wasn’t in a rush to get this over with. He keeps him on edge for what feels like hours , until he’s an almost incoherent mess and he’s begging for release for the second time that morning. 

“You wanna come, sweetheart?” Negan finally asks him, and Carl digs his nails into Negans back to get him to fuck him just  a little harder. 

“Fuck yes.” He moans out, more desperately than he meant to. 

“Ask nicely, baby.” 

“Fuck , daddy, can I please come?” 

Negan starts fucking into him harder at that, and it only takes him a second to moan out his release and he bites into Negans shoulder. 

“Oh fuck baby, you just got so tight. Can feel your sweet little ass getting even tighter around my dick, so fucking good. Gonna make me come- oh fuck.” 

It’s only a minute later that they collapse together, a shaky, sated mess. Negan pulls Carl onto his chest and nips up and down his neck, and it has more force behind it than anything else he’s done all morning. Like he can’t help himself. 

“Shit kid.” Negan sighs out. “Gonna be the death of me.” 

***

They haven’t moved much, and they’re still wrapped up together in bed an hour later. Negans behind him, an arm wrapped around his waist and he’s kissing his neck. Carl moves a little so that Negan can reach even more of him, and the man nips a little at his ear. He’s still tense about Shane, but some of that has left. At the very least, he was distracted. 

“We gotta get you home, baby.”

Carl sighs and turns so that he’s facing him a little more. 

“No, I wanna stay with you.” Carl whispers to him, and he buries himself a little into the mans shoulder. “I just wish it was always like this.”

“I do too, kid. It can be, one day.” 

***

Carls phone rings right as they’re about to walk out the door. It’s Enid. She doesn’t call a lot, so he decides it must be important enough to call about. 

“Shane been around at all today?” She asks after her normal formalities. 

It’s a strange question. “Uh. No. Why?”

“Carl, he came in first thing this morning and said we were serving minors last night and pulled our license.” 

“ What?” 

“We weren’t even open last night. No one drank except Alden and I and we’re both-“

“This has nothing to do with you and Alden. He’s doing this to get to me. Fuck. I’m so sorry, E.” 

“Don’t apologize Carl. This may not have anything to do with Alden and I, but it also doesn’t have anything to do with you either. This is just Shane making power plays.”

“Still. Shit. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about us. I'm only calling to tell you this because we are worried about you. If he’s coming after us he’s coming after you, too. I wanted to make sure you knew.”

“I’m gonna go help Alden out of this mess, but seriously. Do not worry about us. Worry about yourself. Shane is…”

“Crazy?” Carl supplies.

“Well he’s something. He’s losing it. He was pretty wild when he came in. Just…watch out, okay Carl?” 

“I will. Thanks for calling me. Let me know what happens with everything.”

He hangs up but doesn’t move at first. 

“What?” Negan asks from behind him, because judging by Carl's face it’s obvious something is very wrong. He turns around in a daze. 

“That was…that was Enid. Shane was there this morning- and they’re pulling their liquor license. Says they were serving minors last night.”

Negan doesn’t even say anything. He just looks at him in a state of shock and rage. Carl seems to finally snap out of it and looks at him in a panic. He’s even paler than normal and he seems so shaken up that Negan has to resist the urge to pull him into his arms. 

“Fuck. Negan, he isn’t going to stop. He’s not.”

Negan just shakes his head and finally closes the distance between them, his hands going to rest on Carls shoulders. 

“Yes, he will . It’s just a bar, Carl. I know they’re your friends- but it’s gonna be okay.” 

“No. No, you don’t get it. When all this started he…he said if I didn’t keep quiet and go along with things that it would complicate things. That he could do something to my dad. Negan, he could kill him and no one would even think twice.”

Negans eyes narrow at him in disbelief. 

“He said that to you?”

Carl just walks off in the other direction, pacing anxiously. 

 “I…I didn’t think he was serious! But- he is. He is Negan. He’s going to put you away and kill my dad and take everyone away and - I can’t- I can’t have anyone else hurt because of me, Negan. Fuck, I can’t - this is all my fault-” 

Carl looks at him wildly, desperately, searching him for answers that Negan doesn’t have. He looks broken. 

“I don’t know what to do.” Carl chokes out desperately. “I don’t- tell me what I’m supposed to do Negan, I…” 

Negan is suddenly aware how shallow Carls breathing has become, how it’s coming in gasps now and how panicked he looks. If any situation was bound to cause a panic attack it was this one. He takes his hands and puts them on either side of Carls face. 

“Carl, stop. Hey. The only thing I need you to do this second is just breathe for me, okay? 

Carl just shakes his head. “Why won't he stop?” Carl cries out, in the saddest, most lost voice. And Negan hates this. Hates that Carl keeps asking him questions he doesn’t have the answers to. “ Why won’t he stop?” He asks again in a pained whisper, and he’s looking at Negan but also not looking at him. And Negan realizes he's shaking all over now. 

“Carl, hey can you look at me, baby?“ Negan says softly. 

“He’s going to kill him, Negan.” Carl says in a haunted, small voice. “He’s going to kill him and it’s going to be my fault-oh fuck. Oh fuck.”

Carls hands find Negan and he starts clawing at him, only he’s sobbing now, and trying to gather as much air as he can, only he can’t . 

“I can’t-” he pleads out desperately to the universe. 

“Carl.” Negan says in as firm of a tone as he can. “Carl. You're safe. You’re okay, I promise you. Just breathe for me, okay?” He’d walked Lucille through a number of these after she was diagnosed with cancer. 

But Carls gone and Negan knows it. His shaking has just increased, and he’s on the edge of hyperventilating. Scratch that- he is hyperventilating. 

***

He doesn’t know what’s happening, only that he’s fully convinced he’s dying. He can’t breathe. He can’t even think, except he is thinking and all he knows is that he’s going to die. He’s going to die, and he doesn’t know why or how or what’s happening. Everything feels numb on him, except for his chest, which hurts. 

He’s dying. He’s sure of it. He doesn’t want to die, but he is. He can’t breathe. He knows Negan is there, knows he’s right next to him, but Negan might as well be on another planet because there’s nothing the man can do to help him breathe and no matter how hard he tries he can’t get air.

***

He wakes up to some familiar voices, and some not so familiar. It’s a familiar place, too. The goddamn hospital . 

He doesn’t open his eye, but he’s vaguely aware of his mom and Negans voices drifting through the room. 

“And he’s never suffered from anything like this in the past before?” He hears a voice he doesn’t recognize. 

“Never.” That’s definitely his mom. 

“Well, it’s not uncommon for todays teenagers to be unable to cope with societal pressures.” The unfamiliar voice continues on. That’s definitely a doctor, he realizes wearlily. “ If he can’t seem to handle things, you can talk with your primary care doct-”

“Hold on. This doesn’t have anything to do with societal pressures.”  He hears Negans very distinct voice interrupt rather firmly. 

His mom clears her throat. “With all due respect my son has been through a significant amount of trauma the past few months. Honestly- part of me is surprised something like this hasn't happened already.” 

“Yes. Well, regardless, if he can’t handle what’s happening-”

Negan interrupts again defensively. “He can handle it just fine usually.”

He realizes he has the sudden urge to cough, and he can’t hold it any longer. He opens his eye to see his mom hovering over him, and feels a hand on his forehead. 

“Hi, baby.” She says with a sad smile. Soundlessly, he looks from, and then to Negan, who’s also at his bedside. 

“Wh-what ‘m I doin’ here?” He mumbles out. His head feels like it’s spinning. His mom looks to the doctor and the man approaches him. 

“Hi Carl. I’m Dr. Bagwell. You’re at the hospital.”

Carl doesn’t say anything because he’s not an idiot, he of course knows where he’s at. He doesn’t feel like talking to the doctor, though. He doesn’t feel like talking to anyone . 

He finally had realized there was no escaping Shane. And while he wasn’t exactly going to go offer himself up on a silver platter he also the need to at least distance himself from anyone who didn’t need to be involved in his fucked up existence. His mom was one thing- shit, she’d created this problem, probably. But Negan? He didn’t need to get pulled into this further. And neither did his friends. 

“How are you feeling, Carl? You feeling okay?”

Carl just looks at the doctor but doesn’t have any fight left in him. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He says very quietly.

“Do you remember what happened prior to you passing out?”

Carl just stares at him blankly and shrugs. “I guess so.” 

The doctor sighs very lightly, because he can probably tell he’s getting nowhere. 

“Carl- do you mind if I have your parents step out of the room?”

Carl doesn’t look up. He doesn’t acknowledge the absolutely hilarious statement that the doctor ‘his parents’. He just shakes his head and looks at Negan and his mom. 

“No, they can go.” He says softly. 

“I’m going to be right outside, okay baby?” Lori says to him. 

He stares at her and just nods very shortly. And then he locks eyes with Negan very quickly but looks away as soon as started. 

***

That look. That fucking look would haunt Negan. 

Carl looked absolutely defeated. He wanted to run to him. He wanted to just scream at the universe for this all to stop . He wanted to know why the world had chosen to break this perfect, sweet boy that had slowly become his. 

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t because Carl isn’t going to let him. He knows that the kid has put up a wall so high overnight that it seems insurmountable. He wonders when this became Carl's coping mechanism. And why . 

When Lori and him are asked to come back into the room Carl is back asleep, and Negan finally breathes a heavy sigh of relief and buries his face in his hands. 

The day ticked by slowly with the two of them at his side. Carl was admitted to the hospital about halfway through the day and moved out of the emergency room. The doctor said he was concerned about some of the things Carl had said, but since Carl was 18 the doctor technically couldn’t divulge anything.  

He’s in and out of sleep all day, probably courtesy of the drugs he has in his system. Lori is given a lot of rather useless information in a short amount of time- a lot of it is about being vigilant with him in case he makes any kind of attempt on his own life- which startles both of them.

“Is he- did he say anything about suicide?” Lori asks, panicked. Dr. Bagwell just says he can’t say exactly what Carl had told him and gives them a referral to a psychiatrist for him, which Negan is relieved about. Carl at the very least should have been seeing a psychologist after everything he had been through. 

Throughout it all, Carl is shut down, especially when his mom and Negan were involved. He listens to what the doctors say and responds to them rather shortly when he needs to, but doesn’t make much of an effort beyond that. He hasn’t said a word to Negan. He sleeps more often than not. 

And at one point Negan asks if Carl wants him to leave. Carl is quiet, and it’s almost like he’s considering it. He gives a short nod finally.

Negan doesn’t leave. 

Lori does, though, once Beth calls her and says she has to go home finally.  Carl just nods at her and lets her hug him goodbye. He’s being released tomorrow, as long as someone is around to watch him. 

And that just leaves him and Negan for the night. 

“What’s going on baby? Can you talk to me?” Negan finally asks him, once it’s just the two of them. 

Carl just looks at him. After a moment he finally talks, in a quiet, broken voice. “You should go.” There’s not any bite to it. In fact there’s really no emotion at all to it. 

“Why do you want me to go, Carl?” Negan asks. 

Carl just shakes his head. 

“Do you want me to go? Or are you telling me to go because you’re worried about what Shane might do?”

Carl just blinks at him. 

“How about I just stay til you fall asleep, huh? We can watch a movie together?” 

Carl nods and rolls onto his side facing Negan a little more, seeming to relax slightly.  

“You cold?”

Carl shakes his head but a few minutes later Negan sees a little shiver run over him. Carl looks at him with a dead eye, and Negan feels helpless. 

***

Negan wakes up sometime in the middle of the night. It’s as dark as it can be in a hospital room, and he realizes immediately that he’s getting way too old to keep falling asleep in chairs like this. He stumbles out of the horrendous sofa-chair and walks out silently to go find a vending machine. 

He takes a moment, just staring at the silent hallway and running through everything that has happened in the last few days before he walks back into his room. Just as he’s about to walk around the curtain that’s dividing Carls bed from the rest of the room he hears the kid cough. And he suddenly stops, wondering if he should give him just a moment to himself. Just one moment of quiet. He wonders if Carl really does want him gone. 

He hears a sniffle, and a little sigh. And as much as he wants to go to Carl he knows it has to be on Carls terms, or else he’ll be pushed away. So he waits just a little longer. 

But then he hears it. Just a small, broken, defeated sob from behind the curtain. 

Fuck it. To hell with Carl and what he wanted. 

He slowly pulls back the curtain a little and looks at Carl, who’s sitting up in bed, hugging his knees. He’s shaking.

“Oh Carl .” Negan says very softly. Carl jumps, and looks over at him. He would never forget the look Carl gave him at that moment. 

“Neeg?” Carl whispers out in disbelief. “You’re…still here?”

“Yeah, sweet boy.” Negan sits down in the bed next to him. “I am. I’m not going anywhere. I told you I wasn’t.” 

Carls quiet for a moment. 

“I thought- I thought I could do this on my own, but I can’t. ” 

He lets out another little sob and Negan finally pulls him to his chest, and Carl collapses into it. 

Negan puts his hands on either side of his face and pulls him a little closer. “You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to, Carl. I’m here, okay?” 

“I didn’t want to drag you into this just for me. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. But. I can’t do it on my own. I don’t want to. I’m just…I’m scared.” 

He can feel Carl still shaking against him, and his hand goes to Carls chin. He climbs fully into bed with him pulls Carl into his lap, avoiding his IV line as best as he could, and wraps his arms protectively around him. 

“What are you scared about, sweetheart? Talk to me.”

Carl doesn’t immediately answer. 

“I’m….scared that he won’t stop. That he’s going to kill my dad. You keep saying you’re right here but you’re not going to be. He’s gonna…you’re going to prison. All because you were trying to help me. And I hate it. But I’m also…It scares me. If you’re gone, I… who’s gonna stop him?” 

It’s a question that Negan himself had been ignoring. 

Negan sighs heavily, almost frustratedly, and runs his hands down his face. He shakes his head and just looks at him.

“We’re going to figure it out, Carl.“

“That’s just something adults say when they have no idea what they’re doing to do with their lives.” 

Against everything, Negan lets out a low chuckle. 

“That’s probably true. But I do mean it. We are going to figure this out.” 

Negans reaches out hesitantly and goes to take Carls hand, silently asking him with his look if it was okay to do so. Carl nods. 

“I’m just worried I'm going to scare you off.”

Negan laughs softly again. 

“You know it’s going to take a lot to scare me away.” 

“Not even Shane beating the fuck out of you?” 

Negan smiles and thinks about it. “I mean. Shit. That was a little scary.” 

Carl laughs and cuddles into him. 

“Nothing I can’t handle for my boy, though.”  Negan whispers to him. 

Carl lays his head on his hands and smiles softly up at Negan. He breathes in the smell of the man’s hoodie and Negan brings a hand down and runs it through his hair and down his temple and cheek. 

“Don’t shut me out like that again, Carl. Please.” 

“I’m sorry.” Carl chokes out, unable to stifle another little hiccup-sob. 

“ Don’t be. And don’t worry about Shane. I’m going to end this, okay?”

Carl turns towards him with confusion written all over his face. 

“Wha-what?”

“Don’t waste another thought on him.” Negan tells him in as soothing of a voice as he can. 

“Negan- don’t. Don’t do anything dumb.”

“I’ll decide what’s dumb and what’s not dumb.”

They’re both silent for a moment until Carl wraps Negans arms around him even more. 

“I was cold before, for the record. It’s freezing in here.”

“Little stubborn shit. Better now?”

“Mmhmm. A lot better.” Carl nods and closes his eye. 

Carl drifts off finally, in a little heap of exhaustion, and Negan doesn’t dare move. He’s made up his mind about Shane, though. One way or another the man had to go. 

***

Carls roused from a deep sleep the next morning by a shout. He jumps up and looks around, and momentarily wonders if he imagined it because Negan is sound asleep in the hospital chair next to him. He settles back into his bed because, yes, he must have imagined it. Things are quiet. 

And then they aren’t quiet at all. He hears a scream and then an unmistakable gun shot. And more shouts.

What the fuck?

Negan finally jumps up at the sound of the shot, and practically levitates out of his seat, staring wide eyed at Carl. 

“Whawasthat ?” ’he mumbles out in one jumbled slur. 

“Negan?” Carl asks, his voice sounding more terrified then he’d meant to let on. 

Another shot. More shouts. 

Negan jumps up and runs to the door.

“Negan, what’s going on?” Carl asks in a panic. It’s a stupid question, he realizes belatedly. Of course Negan doesn’t know what’s going on anymore than he does. 

Negan runs over to the chair and throws his clothes at him. 

“I don’t know- but we’re getting the fuck out of here. Now.”

The second it’s out of his mouth someone appears in the window in the door. 

“Back up!” A commanding voice booms, and Carl sees Negan take a step back and put his hands up. A soldier enters that Carl recognizes as someone in the Army, with a gun raised at them. He’s wearing something similar to a gas mask. At that exact second a sharp, repetitive noise rings out in the hallway that Carl can only place as machine gun fire. 

“How many of you are there in the room?” The man asks. 

“J-just us two.” Negan trembles out. Carl looks to him- for reassurance, for something . He’d never heard fear like that in Negans voice. 

The man takes a good look at Negan, and then at Carl, like he’s sizing them up, and he nods.

“You’re being evacuated. Stay put until you’re further instructed.” 

So many questions pass through his head at once. Evacuated? From what? He flashes back to the video Alden had showed him of the man being repetitively shot but not falling. Was all that real? 

Negan nods in return and watches breathlessly as the soldier backs out and closes the door. 

It’s quiet for a moment, save for Negans breathing.

“Negan?“ Carl questions again. The man turns around finally and runs to him, and puts a hand on either side of his face.

“You trust me?” Negan asks softly. 

“Of course I do.” 

Something passes over Negans features at that, but Carl can’t quite place it. 

“You’re going to get dressed. And you’re going to do as I say.” Negan says quite calmly and evenly, especially given the situation. 

“Okay.” Carl whispers out breathlessly. 

More machine gun fire rains out in the hallway and it makes Carl jump, his face still in Negans hands. Negan kisses his forehead and lets him go. 

“Shit, my IV.” Carl says, looking down at his arm.

“C’mere.” Negan mumbles out and slowly takes it out. He holds his thumb over it for a minute to stop the blood, and while he does so he looks intently at Carl. They’re silent, with Carls worried eye questioning Negan.

“‘S gonna be okay.” Negan reassures him. 

“What about my dad?” Carl asks timidly.

And he knows instantly that Negan hasn’t even considered Rick, upstairs a floor above them, probably dying or maybe even dead already. 

“You trust me?” Negan asks again, and Carl nods. He does trust Negan, but he doesn’t feel like anyone is going to be able to get them out of this situation. The power blinks and then it goes out entirely, until everything comes back on dimly. Carl realizes it’s the generators kicking on. 

And then suddenly someone else storms in the room. Someone that Carl recognizes this time. 

It’s Shane. 

Chapter Text

“Go with him, Carl.” Negans voice is steady, and eerily calm.  Carl looks to him in complete and utter shock and confusion and just shakes his head, his jaw dropped a little.

“Go with him.” Negan repeats. The man nods shortly at him in an almost reassuring way, but Carls head is spinning, his brain still clouded over from the drugs they gave him yesterday, lack of sleep, and panic. He has literally no idea what Negan could be thinking. 

When Shane had come in the room he hadn’t been belligerent. Hadn’t been forceful. No, he was playing the concerned card. “ Been looking everywhere for you Carl!” He had said as soon as he was in the door. “ We gotta go get your dad and get you the hell outta here.” 

Carl hadn’t said anything, because he didn’t know what to say. 

“You.” Shane had said, pointing his gun at Negan. “Are going to stay right here. Don’t know what your intentions are with this boy and I’m not taking any chances.”

If this situation hadn’t been so dire it would have almost been laughable. 

So when Carl looked to Negan to tell him what to do, and Negan just told him to go with Shane who had clearly lost his mind, he just stood there in disbelief. 

“Get dressed and let's go find Rick, Carl.” Shane tells him. And so, given no other option, Carl does just that. Slowly and robotically and with his head buzzing. He tugs on the sweatpants that Negan had given him, and then he goes to put on the hoodie that he had brought him too. It was Negans, and if nothing else at least it smelled like him, so it was a comfort. 

More shots ring outside. Carl jumps and looks to Negan, and they just lock eyes and just seeing him is a comfort, even if only momentarily. He sloughs off the uncomfortable hospital gown and before he pulls the hoodie on over his head he feels Shanes eyes on his bare skin and he chances a glance to him. Shanes looking at him hungrily, and it makes his breath catch a little. Once again he looks to Negan, who just has concern written all over him. And all he wants to do is run over to the man, and have him just stop this. He wants Negan to take him home and have it be a normal day and sit with the stupid cats and play Monopoly and make spaghetti. Only, he has a sinking feeling they will never do any of those things again.

There's another shot, and a woman screams right outside of their room. And then there’s eerie silence after. The longest period of silence that they’ve heard in quite some time. 

“Carl.” Shane hisses to him, while he looks out the door. “ Get over here. C’mon, we gotta move.” 

Carl doesn’t know what to do. His feet are planted in place. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Shane lets out a growl and makes his way over to him.

“ Now, Carl. No time to dick around.” And he grabs Carl forcefully by the arm and starts to drag him away. Carl pulls out of his grasp though, and tries to dart back towards Negan- towards safety. And he almost gets there. He does, and for just a second Negan wraps an arm around him and whispers something into his hair.  “ Trust me.”  He says again. so quietly into his hair that Carl isn’t sure if he imagined it. 

Shane catches him again, and slings an arm around his neck in an almost chokehold and drags him away. Negan moves towards him with a fire in his eye but Shane holds up his gun in warning. 

“ Do not test me. You think there’s rules right now? Man, I’ll add you to those piles of dead bodies out in the hallway so fuckin’ fast. You’d make a good addition.” 

“Shane stop, I’ll go.” Carl chokes out. “I’ll go.” He adds resignedly. 

So he does. He chances a look back at Negan and he feels panic come over him again, his nerves at their breaking point. Everything in him is telling him to run, to go the other way to Negan, but he somehow makes himself go with Shane, feeling Negans eyes on him. He walks out without another look back because he knows he can’t.  

Carl wasn’t sure what he had been expecting in the hallway, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t this at all. He had seen things like this in movies and video games but nothing even close to this in real life. There are bodies slumped over against the walls, but not as he imagined they would be. They’re all at strange, grotesque angles with blood pooling at their mouths and eyes. He had never really realized how blood had a smell to it but it was undeniable that it was hanging in the air. He feels Shanes hand on him, a firm grip on his shoulder, and he jumps. There are no soldiers left as far as he can tell on this floor anymore. Just bodies. 

Shane leads him quietly along past the carnage and they get to a stairwell. He slowly opens the door, his gun trained on anything that might pop up, but the stairwell proves to be quiet too. There’s still gunfire that can be heard, but it’s definitely coming from another floor Carl can tell. 

“What’s your dads room?”

“Umm. I think he’s in 450 now.” Carl says quietly. “What the hell is going on?” Carl can’t help but ask. 

“Fraid I don’t know any more than you do, Carl.” He says in a dismissive voice. They enter the stairwell and they start to head down. Carl belatedly realizes he had absolutely no idea really where he was in the hospital in relation to his dad, but that quickly fades when he sees a 3 on the wall. 

“Shane- my dads-”

“Carl. Your dads dead.” He says it flatly, emotionless. Carl feels his stomach drop out and his heart actually skip a beat.

“What?” Carl spits out incredulously. 

“Look, Carl. I was up there already. I checked to see if he was still breathing. I’m sorry, kiddo.”

Carl shakes his head. “He’s- no, he's not Shane.” 

“My only concern is getting you and your mother to safety. We have to go, now.” 

Now Carl really can’t move his feet. He can’t move his feet and he feels panic start to rise again. Why had Negan told him to go with Shane? 

He feels like this is some fucked up strange dream. Like he’s having some out of body experience and it’s not really him on the steps with Shane. He looks down at the stairwell below him and for some reason it makes him dizzy. It all makes him dizzy. 

Shane looks up at him. 

“Carl. Move your scrawny ass, let’s go.” 

And suddenly Carl snaps. “No.” 

“What’d you say to me?”

“ Fuck you Shane. I’m going to get my dad!” He goes to push off the stairs to run up, but he feels Shane tackle him to the ground and he falls. Instinctively he kicks back at Shane and he feels his foot connect with something that definitely has the consistency of a face. He hears Shane shout, and he looks back for just a second and sees blood pouring down the man’s face. He feels a little triumphant for half a millisecond until Shanes face darkens.

“Oh, you better run, boy.” Shane growls out and Carl sprints off as fast as he can. He makes it about a floor, practically climbing up the stairs in a panic, until he gets to the next flight and tries to grab the door but there’s a body on the floor and it makes him come to a dead stop as he falls over it, almost into the wall. Shane pins him against the floor and Carls breath leaves him in a huff.

“I'm just trying to get to my dad!” He pleads out as Shane shoves the bad side of his face against the ground next to the body, a hand tight in his hair. Shane grabs him by the face and then very forcibly flips him around, and Shane sits on top of him. 

“You’re gonna listen to me, Carl.” Shane pants out to him, a breathless, crazed maniac. He knows in that moment that he’s not dealing with the Shane he’s known his whole life. There’s a psychotic grin in his eye and blood from his nose is dripping down on Carls face. It’s about then that he knows he’s going to die. He’s going to die in this shitty stairwell, alone. And then fight kicks in and he starts to lash out, starts to do anything he can to get out of Shanes grip. Shanes stronger, but he’s squirrlier. A hand flies to his neck, though, and suddenly he’s being pinned down. Panic rises in him, taking him back to the time Shane had done this at home. His own hand goes to Shane’s and he starts clawing, but Shanes hand is tight on his neck and it's strangling him. 

“Y'know I thought by now I woulda broken you. How d’you still have any fight left in you? That’s why I love you, Carl. Little fiery thing like you makes the chase fun. Means when I finally get you it’ll be that much sweeter.” 

And then something happens that neither of them would ever expect. There’s a strange, animalistic noise that sounds like a- growl? And the body that Carl had fallen over isn’t just a dead body anymore. It’s moving, choppily and strangely, but it’s fucking moving and all they can both do is stare for a moment in shock. Carl still can’t breathe, but he takes the opportunity of Shanes removed hands and skitters away backwards on his hands until his back hits the door behind him. Shane draws his gun, and fires into it’s chest- and it literally does nothing. He fires again, still nothing. It just keeps crawling towards them. They’re both so in shock for a moment that no one moves, except for this seemingly dead creature who’s not dead anymore.

And before Shane can even move it fucking bites him in the face. Takes an entire chunk of the side of his face off. And it’s the most horrifying thing Carl has ever seen. He feels blood flying onto his own face, hears the sounds of skin and bone crunching, and for just one moment he’s frozen, transfixed, as Shane screams and flails and shoots blindly but nothings working. Finally, Carls brain catches up to him.

His head is spinning, his vision is clouding over from lack of oxygen, and all he knows is he has to get out of that stairwell. Shane’s screams are echoing off the walls but he can barely hear them over his gasps. He doesn't turn to look back. Shane could rot for all he cared. He yanks the door open and bolts out of it, and he doesn’t know what he’s running into but he doesn’t care. He can’t see, he can’t breathe. His breath was still coming in pained gasps as he tried to get air back into his lungs. He runs, but he doesn’t make it more than a few feet before he hits something solid.

Fuck , he’s dead, he thinks. He lashes out, his fists trying to hit whatever is in front of him, but he doesn’t feel like he really has any fight left because he can’t even breathe. 

“Carl it’s me!” A soothing, familiar voice washes over him and he almost sobs in relief. He feels himself fall because he has no strength left but Negan catches him. His vision starts to come back a little and Negan takes his face in his hands.  

“Oh fuck baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I had to leave you. That was the only fuckin’ way I could figure how to get you outta there, I swear- ” Negan rambles out in a mess. “Are you hurt? Oh fuck, you’re hurt, what happened-” He asks, wiping some of Shanes blood off of Carl's face. 

Carl shakes his head. “No, no- I'm fine- I- somebody ate Shane!” 

“ Wh-what ?” 

Carl nods frantically. “He ate him right in front of me!! A person Negan! A fucking person ate Shane! What the fuck i s going on?! ” 

“Shane got- what?!” Negans just staring at him with his jaw on the floor trying to work out what Carl had just said. “Alright, let’s go get Rick and get the fuck out of here.” 

Negan picks him up and Carl slings his arms around his neck. Despite everything Carl suddenly feels completely and wholly safe. A sense of calmness washes over him and he nestles his head into Negans shoulder. 

“Don’t leave me again, Neeg.” He says in a more panicked voice than he meant to while still trying to get his breathing under control. 

“I won’t, baby. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t g onna leave you with him, it was just the only way to get us both out of there.”

Carl nods and he feels Negan turn. He hears a door being pushed open and he knows they must be in his dad's room.The scene is chaotic. There’s medical supplies upended everywhere, shit strewn throughout the room. Rick looks worse than normal. He’s paler and more lifeless than he usually looked.  

“Dad?” Carl says softly, climbing out of Negans arms and onto the floor to run to him. He puts a hand on him and while Rick isn’t cold he’s not necessarily warm either. 

“Dad, please. Please just wake up. Please . ” He starts to shake Rick a little. It’s stupid. It’s dumb. Of course his dad isn’t going to wake up. Not now. It had been months. 

The steady rhythm of his dads heartbeat monitor that is usually heard throughout the room is gone, because the generators by now have seemed to have given out somehow. All he hears is eerie silence until gunshots reverberate from another floor. 

He puts his head to his dads chest. He tries to listen for a heartbeat but he can’t hear- he can’t hear a heartbeat, but also he can’t hear anything . Not over the gunfire and the shouts. He turns around to ask Negan to check, but then he sees it. That look of pity on the man’s face. And it’s too much, coming from him. He’s so angry all of a sudden. At all of it. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” Carl growls out. Fuck Negan. He didn’t need anyone's pity, he was getting his dad out of here if it was the last thing he did. 

“Carl…” Negan says softly.

“ No . No Negan. This…he’s…I-” but the words fail him. He knows he’s lying to himself, and the dam breaks. “Fuck!” He screams at absolutely nothing and everything. Negan starts to walk over to him. 

“Negan, I can’t.” Carl chokes out a sob. “ I can’t leave him.” And then Carl is full on sobbing. He feels Negan wrap his arms around him, and he clings to him. “I can’t leave him, he’s my dad. It’s my dad.”