Author's Note: I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry for the delay on this. Things have just been a little hectic. Thank you very much for your time, patience, and understanding for my lack of updates. I'll try not to do that again. Chapter Title and soundtrack is End of the Beginning by Black Sabbath. I hope it's not poor form to ask for some more feedback or reviews on this? It'd help keep me motivated. Please and thank you very much.
Response to Reviews:
gabrielsangel23: Eeeeee! Thank you! I really hope you like this chapter and continue to enjoy. I always look forwards to your reviews. :D
A loud fucking thumping against the door roused Negan from a dead sleep, and he grumbled to himself as he glared at the door. Simon had managed to scrounge up a cot for him and Logan, which they now shared. A solid weight on his chest told him that the aforementioned brat was still passed right the fuck out and snoring softly with his face buried in Negan's chest.
"Goddamnit, Simon, open up!" Martin's irritated voice barked, muffled from the wood and followed by several more loud thumps as he banged his fist against the flimsy door of the trailer.
"... Dad... Wha'sthat?" Logan mumbled sleepily into Negan's shoulder, not even opening his eyes. "Tell 'em to shut the fuck up.." Negan groaned and shook his head, saying he had no goddamned idea and trying to make whoever was banging against the door disappear by sheer force of fucking will.
"Hold your horses." Simon grumbled, sitting up and then stumbling over his shoes towards the door. Logan looked up from Negan's chest, making a sleepy sound like a tired puppy and cracking his eyes open drowsily. The other man opened the door to reveal the red-faced form of Martin. "Where's the fire?" He asked around a jaw cracking yawn.
"Took you long enough." The asshole leader of Railyards sneered, stepping into the trailer and looking around, evidently un-fucking-impressed. His cold blue eyes fell onto Negan and he sat up straighter, scowling, watching Logan out of the corners of his eyes. The kid mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes with one hand while he leaned against Negan's side. "You and I need to talk."
"It couldn't fucking wait?" Negan growled, not in the goddamned mood to deal with Martin's complete bullshit; his whole body was still aching from yesterday's shitstorm of events. He threw his legs over the side of the cot and stood up, looking over at Logan who shrugged out of his blankets and followed fucking suit.
"No." Martin folded his arms across his chest, still wearing his signature 'I'm about to shit myself I'm so mad' scowl and green military jacket. "It's about the shit your son got into the second you were gone on that run."
"That wasn't my fault." Logan protested, pulling on his red hoodie and hunching his shoulders up defensively. He sounded upset and that set the alarms bell to a-fucking-ringing in Negan's head. "Dustin started it!"
"You better pick your next words fucking carefully." Negan growled, stepping closer and glowering down at Martin, his fists clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms. "Because I did not have a good fucking day yesterday, I am tired as shit, and seeing your pissy little bitch-face first thing in the fucking morning - without fucking breakfast, mind you - while you accuse my son of shit is not fucking helping."
"Your brat attacked another kid the other day." Martin snapped and Negan instantly rolled his eyes, reaching up with one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as a headache built up in his skull. It was way too fucking early to be dealing with this horseshit, especially without some painkillers in his fucking system.
"I just punched him a little." Logan grumbled, hunching his shoulders. His eye was still bruised and a little puffy, but the swelling had started to fade down last night.
"What did the other little brat do?" Negan asked, glancing back from Logan who was glowering at Martin and back to aforementioned shithead. "He's a little spitfuck, but he doesn't do that shit over nothing." Martin blinked at him, like he couldn't believe that Negan wasn't just going to believe Logan had lost his shit for no reason.
"I don't tolerate in-fighting here." The man snarled, some spit landing on Negan's cheek, which he brushed off with exaggerated slowness. He could feel a molten fury start to settle in the pit of his stomach, building hotter and hotter the more shit spewed out of Martin's piehole. "I understand that things might have been do or die out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, but here we're trying to rebuild a life, a community, a civilization here. And you and your son have already endangered it by picking fights with other survivors and assaulting fellow community members here."
"What the fuckity fuck are you on and where the fuck can I get some?" He growled, stepping closer into Martin's personal space and leaning down to glare into his eyes. "Did you even bother to hear the kid's side of the story or did you just fucking decide that he was guilty and fuck anyone who says otherwise?"
"Martin." Simon spoke up for the first time, looking like he had no goddamned clue what to think of this whole fucking shituation. "I really think that might be a helluva overreaction." He nodded towards Logan, who looked about ready to kick Martin in his uptight balls. "Kids kinda get into fights sometimes. It happens. No one was seriously hurt, besides their pride maybe. "
"If I were you, Simon," Martin snarled, his sights settling on to the other man next. "I'd remember my place in things around here." Simon immediately closed his mouth, resentment burning in his dark eyes as he took a few steps back. "When I found you, Si, you were almost starving to death. If you speak out of place again, you can join them." He whipped back around to Negan, jabbing him sharply in the chest with one finger. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't toss the two of you out on your asses."
Negan didn't move, didn't blink, his gaze focused on the dumbass bastard in front of him and his hands clenched. Suprisingly, Logan didn't go off on Martin. The brat looked like he didn't mind leaving, actually. Instead, the kid grabbed his pack and started shoving some shit into the bag. Negan reached out and gently stopped him, making the kid look up at him questioningly.
Negan gave a small, reassuring smile, before he resumed his glaring match with Martin. Nearby, his bat was laying on the top of a battered dresser and he reached over for it, slowly wrapping his fingers around the handle and picking it up before swinging it up onto his shoulder. It felt reassuring to be armed in this situation and somehow the bat made him feel strong, almost in-fucking-vincable.
"We're not going any-fucking-where." He rumbled. "You fucking gave me your goddamn word that Lo would be safe behind the fences. From what I can fucking guess, some little asswipe stole his shit and Lo was com-fucking-pletely within his rights to get it back." He leered down at Martin, allowing his lips to curl back in to show his gleaming teeth in a large, wolfish grin. "I'm not seeing a reason to have us kicked out besides you having a goddamn drama queen shitfit."
Martin's expression turned from rage to something akin to nearly a full-blown fucking conniption. A vein in his forehead was ticking and his upper lip twitched. Fucker was about to go nuclear, and Negan was enjoying every second of pushing his goddamned buttons. Martin was scared and threatened by him and that fear and apprehension could be used against him if he pushed him in the right fucking direction.
"Clearly you have an overexaggerated sense of self-importance." Railyard's leader growled, stepping into Negan's personal space. However, Martin was shorter then Negan and certain-fucking-ly not quite as broad, so the effect was not as noticeable as when Negan did it. "Let me make one thing clear to you. I'm the boss here. And as the boss, I'm saying you and that degenerate little bastard of yours are out if you don't shape the fuck up."
The hot anger smoldering in Negan's stomach ignited into a fiery rage and the hand holding his baseball bat clenched tightly around the handle. His vision was going red as fury raced through him, burning away all his pain and exhaustion and leaving only a thirst for vengeance in its wake. The thought of introducing Martin to the bat flickered across his mind, and he consideed it, imagining how wood would meet flesh with a wet crack. He had killed before to make it back to Logan, he could and would kill again to protect him and keep him here. However, the feeling of a smaller hand around the wrist of the hand at his side stopped him. Negan looked down to see Logan gazing up at him, looking a helluva a lot calmer then he was.
"Dad. Let's just go." The kid said, giving Negan's arm a gentle tug. "This asshole isn't worth it." He continued, not looking at Martin. "He's just a giant bag of dicks. We can go and find another community or something..." The kid muttered, still avoiding Martin's searing gaze. Negan grit his jaw, feeling rage still bubbling under his skin like a molten inferno.
"Did he give you that shiner, kiddo?" He asked, his eyes never once leaving Martin. If he did, he was gonna fucking kill the fucker. No one, no fucking one, was going to lay a goddamned finger on his son. He had sworn to Lucille he would protect Logan with his dying breath from anything and every-fucking-thing.
"No. That was Dustin. Martin just slapped me." The kid glanced over at Martin, his tone level and his face calm. Much calmer then Negan felt at any fucking rate and he could feel his ire rise even further at Logan's revelation.
There was a steely look in the kid's eyes, a maturity that made him look more adult then he should be at age eight. And it was because this son of a bitch had hit his kid. If Negan's vision was red before, it had fucking nothing on how it looked now. All he needed was a motherfucking HUD with a 'target acquired' in blinking yellow font in front of him.
"You.. fucking hit my kid." It only took a couple of seconds for Martin to apparently realize the shit he just found himself in. Negan's voice was deadly dark, cold and sharp as obsidian. The man opened his mouth - most likely to spout off some asshole response - but Negan stopped him in his tracks by thumping the business end of the bat hard into the man's chest.
"You're not the only fucker here who doesn't tolerate goddamn excuses." Negan continued on, staring the shitstain in front of him with furious calm. "You promised me to keep my son safe and while I was out risking my life for shit you wanted, you hit him." Another thump of the baseball bat and Martin took a step back. "Call me a literal fucker, but that isn't the goddamn defination of 'safe', last time I fucking checked." He leaned close, almost nose to fucking nose with Martin. "So give me one fucking reason I shouldn't. Kick. Your. Ass." He punctuated each of the last three words with a thump against Martin's chest with the bat, not blinking or looking away.
"I'm not giving the little shit an apology." Martin hissed angrily, squaring his wiry shoulders, but his gaze flickered somewhat nervously to the baseball bat in Negan's hand and he continued on. "But if you take him with you on your runs, you can stay. He needs to be on a shorter leash." The man straightened up, jutting up his chin with a curled lip; it made Negan want to punch the smug look off his fucking face. "People don't feel safe with him on his own."
"Yeah, because he's absolutely goddamned vicious." Negan muttered dryly, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at Logan, who blinked and tilted his head to one side, like a confused puppy. Simon muffled a small chuckle with clearing his throat, calling Martin's attention to himself once again.
"I can keep an eye on them." The lanky man said, voice as easy and amicable as it always fucking was. "They'll cooperate to keep a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs." He added, raising a lone eyebrow in Negan and Logan's direction. His voice was a little harder and more forceful then usual, but Negan could tell he was helping them. For the moment. The corner's of the kid's mouth were quirking ever so slightly upwards. He seemed to trust Simon more now, and Negan found that he felt the same. The Luigi looking motherfucker wasn't too bad.
Martin glowered at Simon intently, that pissy look still on his face before he turned to Negan. "You or the little bastard fuck up and it's on Simon's head along with yours." He snarled, jabbing Negan's chest again before he turned and stomped away, flinging the door open so that it banged loudly against the wall. The whole trailer shuddered as he slammed it behind him.
After Martin's sudden appearance and subsequent departure, there was no going back to sleep now. Simon scrounged up some breakfast for them all, before he left to find someone to take a look at Negan's gunshot wound. Negan had sworn and growled at him until the other man finally left him the fuck alone and let him get some sleep. Simon was only gone for about ten minutes - enough time for Negan to shrug his t-shirt off - and when he returned, a woman with curly black hair and tanned skin was following him.
"This is Arat." Simon said, gesturing to middle-eastern woman. "She knows some basics about this sorta thing, more then I do, at any rate." He added, moving to grab some medical supplies from under the counters. "Arat, this is Negan and his son, Logan." He slapped a first aid kit on the countertop, waving a hand to father and son. "Dumb bastard got himself shot while we were scavenging in town."
"Fuck off, you wanted to hit the sports store in the first fucking place." Negan grumbled. Arat was watching them intently, her expression neutral. "C'mere, darlin'. I don't bite, unless you're into that kinda shit. It's nice to fucking meet you." He said, offering his hand to shake. He had to admit, she was pretty, in a kick him in the balls sort of way. He glanced at Simon, who gave a small smile before turning away, busying himself with cleaning one of his guns.
Logan eyed the woman with an odd expression on his face before he dragged one of the spare chairs over to Negan's side and plopped himself in it. As though he wanted to be by Negan's side just in case some shit went down.
"Nice to meet you." Arat replied, watching him somewhat cautiously. She raised her brows at Logan's actions, but didn't really say anything. "I was in the the Army back home for some time, so I know most of the basics. Considering your internal organs are still internal, we can rule out advanced triage. Unless you keep flirting."
"Then you know more then I fucking do, sweetheart." Negan admitted with a shrug, before wincing. Fucking dumbass idea, considering the circumstances he found himself in. "I did what I fucking could, but it's probably not the best."
Arat set her bag of medical shit down beside her as she kneeled in front of Negan, looking at his injuries. Negan decided then and there it was probably for the best to keep his smartass comments to himself and not think about how this was the first time in almost nine months that a gorgeous woman was between his legs. Not that he was going to do shit about it; crude comments, hell yeah, but he knew if he tried any other shit, Arat would strangle him with his balls. She jut had that stone cold look.
It seemed the woman found the stitches he had given himself good enough to leave in and instead reached for a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. All the while, Logan watched her every movement intently, brows furrowed as he frowned.
"What's that?" The brat demanded, breaking the silence and pointing at the recognizable brown bottle. His brows were furrowed and his tone was just bordering on the edge of confrontational.
"Easy, kiddo." Negan soothed, letting out a chuckle at the kid's protectiveness. "Let the lady work. She ain't gonna do any-fucking-thing." Arat was looking at the pair of them like she wasn't sure if she should respond or not. She wasn't scared of the little spitfuck, but she didn't seem to know what to make of him either. Logan sat back in his chair, still frowning worriedly, not taking his eyes off either his father or Arat.
Arat didn't speak as she did her fucking thing, and Negan didn't really want to fuck up her concentration. He resigned himself to sitting in silence while she poked and prodded him like a slab of fucking meat, occasionally wincing, hissing, or cursing when a particularly tender spot was hit. Logan would actually fucking growl at her when he did, but Negan made sure to wave him down, finding the whole thing more amusing then any-fucking-thing.
"Are you planning on staying?" Arat asked, glancing at Logan with a glimmer of amusement in her dark eyes. Her lips quirked upwards slightly and Negan found himself shrugging again with a wry chuckle.
"We're fucking thinking about it. If Lord Commander Douchebag doesn't throw us out on our asses."
"Do you always swear this much in front of your kid?" Arat asked after a long moment of looking at him like he had lost his goddamn mind and she found it more amusing then worrisome. Normally Negan would tell someone to fuck off if they questioned his parenting methods, but Arat didn't seem disapproving, merely curious.
"Fuck yes."
Negan laughed at the fucking realization that he and Logan had said that shit in unison. From the corner on the couch, even Simon gave a chuckle. Arat raised a brow, but she gave a small, but still sincere smile. She finished doctoring him up to the best of her ability while Logan bombarded her with questions every time she did something and asked for explanations on why she was doing what she was. Negan was almost flattered by how fucking protective the brat was being over him and he'd give the kid reassuring looks when the boy's anxiety tipped more towards anger.
Once completed with her task, Arat gathered her materials and stood up, adjusting her grip on the bag of medical supplies she had brought with her as she slung it up onto her shoulder.
"Thanks for patching me up." Negan said, standing as well. He noticed that he towered over her. "Sorry for the interrogation." He added, jerking a thumb at Logan, who he could just tell was flipping him off behind his back.
"You're all he has left." Arat said, her voice surprisingly soft and fucking sympathetic; more than what he goddamned deserved, especially from a stranger and especially from someone who kept their cards as close to their chest as she did. "Makes sense to me he doesn't want to lose you."
Negan glanced back to Logan, who folded his arms and looked away, a vulnerable look coming to his eyes even as the kid tried to keep a tough faced exterior. Logan absolutely fucking hated to be treated like a little kid or a baby, especially in front of other people. Even before the Fall, he always got very frustrated when he got emotional around others.
"Yeah. I guess I kinda fucking like him too." Negan reached over and ruffled the kid's hair, earning a tirade of curses and complaints and his arm shoved away with smaller hands. "Thanks for everything. I'll try not to get fucking shot next time. I hear it's bad for your goddamn health."
Over the next three days, Negan found himself lazing around while his wounds healed. He spent much of that time sleeping, knowing his body needed it in order to fucking heal itself. Logan remained steadfastly by his side, still protective and pissy at anyone he deemed a threat. Simon was, fortunately, in the clear. Logan had told him that he saw the man as a friend and seemed more willing to tolerate Simon's presence then he used to when the two first met. Arat was another person who the kid had a grudging acceptance for, but she was still relatively new and still in her 'trial run' as the boy put it.
And speaking of the brat. The kid was laying on his stomach on the floor, filling in his coloring book and listening to his walkman. A soft knock made Negan look up from his book and he frowned, tilting his head when silence followed. Simon would just walk right in and Martin would almost kick the door down. Just to be a fucking pain in the ass. Negan picked up a pillow and hit Logan's back with it, jerking the kid out of his zoned in state and earning a glare.
"Get the door, kiddo?" He asked, trying and failing to look innoccent as the brat gave him a scathing glare before he hauled himself to his feet and shuffled to the door. It swung open to reveal a dweeby looking kid with shaggy hair, glasses, and buck teeth.
"Hey, Barf!" Negan watched in complete confusion as Logan's face lit up and he stepped aside to let the other kid enter. "C'mere and meet my Dad!" The brat said as the other boy shuffled inside, fretting with his shirt nervously. Logan closed the door and moved to stand next to the other kid. "Dad, this is Barf. Barf, this is Dad."
"Why the ever-loving fuckity fuck is he called Barf?" Negan asked. Logan promptly facepalmed while 'Barf' looked torn between pants-pissing terror and regretting every fucking life decision he had ever made that led up to this point and being insulted by Negan's reaction to his name.
"You shouldn't talk, Dad. You have a weird ass name too." Logan snapped, before shooing Barf towards the folding table pushed against one wall, pinning Negan with a pissy little glower that was about as intimidating as a wet kitten. "He's my friend and we're gonna go draw and shit."
"Ni-nice to m-meet you, si-sir." Barf muttered shylyl before plopping into a chair. Negan snorted a wry chuckle and shifted his attention back to his book. He didn't focus on it, just staring down at the words on the page and listening out of sheer goddamned curiosity. "H-hey, Lo. I fo-found something f-for you." The other boy said, shrugging a backpack made more out of duct-tape then backpack. He pulled out a cassette and held it out for Logan to take. "I kn-know you li-like L-led Z-zep, but I th-think you'd like Bl-Black Sab-Sabbath too."
"Thanks, Barf... This means a lot to me... Shit..." Logan's face was one of shock and awe as he took the cassette from Barf carefully, holding it in his hands before he beamed at the other boy.
Negan wasn't even fucking pretending to read his boring ass book any longer, watching the two kids with a small smile. Fucking hell... It had been months since he had seen Logan had smiled that much.
"No-no problem." Barf said with a shrug and a bashful smile, holding his bag in his lap. "M-my Dad fou-found it in one of th-the cars."
"What the fuck does your Dad do around here, kid?" Negan asked, causing both of the boys to look at him. Barf seemed to be slowly getting used to him, but the kid still appeared nervous and flighty as all hell. At least the goofy looking little hobbit motherfucker wasn't so scared of him anymore.
"He's a me-mechanic." The boy muttered while Logan folded his arms and gave his father a warning look. "Works on c-cars and stuff."
"Sounds like a useful motherfucker to have around." Negan said, with as charming a grin as he could muster, trying to reassure the boy he wasn't going to hurt him or some shit. He may act like a tough as shit hardass, but he was used to working with children.
"W-well, I suppose he d-did... uh... do my mo-mom. So yeah.." Barf trailed off while Negan laughed his ass off, definitely not expecting that from the little weirdo. "I gu-guess you're ri-right."
"Goddammit, Dad." Logan sighed, apparently fed up with Negan's bullshit for today. Negan just laughed fucking harder.
The next day found Negan perusing the stocks of supplies Railyards kept in one of the smaller warehouses. He walked between shelves loaded with boxes and cans of food. While Martin still seemed to hate Negan's fucking guts, Simon had told him as a scavenger that went beyond the gates, he had the right to take his due.
And that's what brought him to the storage warehouse to grab some dinner for him, Logan, and Simon. The mustachioed motherfucker was out on a run with Lord Commander Douchbag, and since Negan still had a hole in his shoulder for all fucking intents and purposes, he was allowed to take it easy. However, he was getting goddamned stir crazy just sitting on his ass in the trailer, so he left Logan and Barf to hang out and braid each other's hair or some shit while he brought home the bacon.
Now, if only bacon came in cans, he thought wistfully, picking up a can of soup and inspecting the can for dents and swells. Seeing nothing, he tucked it into his bag and was about to turn when a voice behind him spoke up.
"Excuse me?"
Negan turned to see a wiry man with glasses and oil and grease all over the front of his shirt and pants standing behind him.
"Jesus fuck, you need to wear a bell or some shit." Negan growled, looking the fucker up and down. He wasn't in the habit of judging books by their covers, especially now at the end of the fucking world, but this man looked like the goddamn human personification of a pencil.
"Sorry..." The man said, reaching up with a grimy hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. "Are you Logan's father?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Negan immediately scowled, drawing himself up to his full and height and preparing himself to ball this bastard out.
"And if I fucking am?" He challenged.
"Uhh... Nice to meet you. I'm Bartholomew's Dad. Balthazar, but most people just call me Balin, like Lord of the Rings." A pause and the man just fucking kept going. "Well, more of the Hobbit, really. Balin was only mentioned in the trilogy as Lord of Moria." He babbled on, not meeting Negan's now half-pissed, half-bewildered gaze.
"Bartholomew?" Negan asked, because apparently that was the fucking part his goddamn brain chose to focus on. It took a few seconds for the pieces to finally get their asses in place and he could almost feel the fucking lightbulb flicking on. "Wait, Barf?"
"Well, that is his nickname, as unfortunate as that is, but I suppose I was just asking for it naming him that." Balthazar sighed, shrugging his narrow shoulders and smiling in a helpless way.
"The little shit that hangs out with my boy?" Negan interupted, not wanting another fucking history lesson from this fucker. He seemed nice enough, but Negan didn't have all godamn day to listen to someone's life story. Balthazar blinked behind his glasses, opened his mouth before shutting it, and nodded, watching Negan's reaction carefully. "Holy shit, our kiddos are pretty much best friends." He guessed. Logan barely did friends, so maybe best was pushing it, but Negan had seen the boy talk with Barf and there seemed to be a genuine friendship there.
"Yes. Barf told me about the both of you, so I thought it would be a good idea to talk with you and see what sort of man you are." Balthazar replied, a small smile crossing his lips. Negan was seeing quite a bit of the family resemblence between the rid-goddamn-diculously named man and his rid-goddamn-diculously named kid. What sort of parent abused their child that way, giving them a fucking name like that?
Shaking himself off, Negan offered a hand and gave a grin. "Nice to fucking meet you. I'm Negan." Balthazar shook his hand, with a surprisingly firm grip and the atmosphere seemed to lighten the fuck up a bit. "So, just dropping in for a friendly fucking chat, or is there something I can fucking do for you?" Negan asked, arching his spine and leaning back and tilting his head to look down at the other man.
"I just wanted to meet you, to be honest." Balthazar admitted with another shrug, gazing at Negan over the tops of his circular glasses with a thoughtful expression on his thin face. "Bartholomew mentioned that you 'had a way with words', but I'm beginning to see now what he meant by that." Negan gave a cheeky grin and bounced his eyebrows, sliding his tongue over his teeth. He wouldn't fucking deny he was a foul-mouthed lech. Negan was many fucking things, but he was pleased as fucking punch to say that a liar was not one of them. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you?"
"I have nothing better to fucking do." Negan said, shrugging before rocking back on his heels and digging his tongue into the side of his cheek. "How can yours fucking truly be of service this fine as fuck day?"
"I'd like some help moving some autoparts from here to the garage." Balthazar said mildly, scratching at his jaw with one hand and leaving a streak of blackish grit and oil behind, but he didn't seem to mind. "Perhaps you could help me? The pieces aren't extraordinarily heavy, but they can be rather awkward to carry."
"Sure thing."
Negan spent the next hour and a half helping Balthazar move car parts to Balthazar's work space in one of the larger warehouses that acted like a garage now. There were several trucks, vans, and cars parked inside, in various stages of disrepair. Negan even recognized the black truck that he and Simon had taken out on their run and the green SUV Negan had stolen from the other group to get back sitting next to it. Most of the walls were covered in tools with counters, metal shelves, and plastic storage bins of tools and equipment with one or two workbench areas interspersed between.
Negan set down the plastic crate of car shit next to Balthazar's workbench, wincing as his injured shoulder protested. He didn't think he popped the stitches, but he'd have to check when he got back.
"Thank you." Balthazar set his case of tools down on top of the workbench counter, giving Negan a small, grateful smile. "I really appreciate it. Would've taken quite some time to do that all by myself."
"No fucking problem." Negan replied, looking around the 'garage' at all the car shit. It brought back hazy, half-forgotten memories of working on the mustang belonging to his grandfather. He shook the thought off as quickly as it came. Whenever he thought about the past, it always just kicked him in the balls.
"Let me give you something as a sign of thanks." Negan turned and blinked at the bottle of whiskey Balthazar held out to him, his gaze moving between the glass bottle and the smaller man who held it.
"You don't have to fucking thank me." He said gruffly, shaking his head, but Balthazar didn't let up. "Just helped you move some heavy ass boxes. I was getting fucking flabby anyways. Chicks don't dig fat fucks."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Balthazar replied dryly, but there was something pained about his expression that Negan found he could relate to all too fucking well. "I don't want to be pushy, but maybe we can just talk? It's not often I meet people that're genuinely helpful.
"Shoot the shit?" Negan asked skeptically, raising a brow and wondering what the bastard's MO was. He remembered that this guy was the father of his son's best friend, but it was almost instinctual to consider someone else's motives, especially with how shit was now. Balthazar's demeanor was rather easy to read; he was a no nonsense, cynical motherfucker, much like Simon but not quite as much as a character. "Sure. Got some glasses for that shit? I'm not fucking swapping spit with you."
"Of course. I have no clue where you've been and as to your dental hygeine." Balthazar said, his tone extremely dry, setting down a pair of glass tumblers on the workbench surface.
"Go fuck yourself, fucker." Negan sat himself on the edge of the nearby counter, setting his baseball bat down beside him; he didn't want to leave it on the floor where it would get fucked up and messy. "Only place I've been in is bored out of my goddamn mind." He grumbled, watching with no little interest as the other man poured a few splashes of whiskey in each glass and offered Negan his.
"Why?" Balthazar asked mildly, sipping at his booze. Negan tipped a swallow back as well, relishing in the old familiar burn, but he knew better then to guzzle that shit like apple juice. He remembered stealing some of this shit from one of his buddy's grandfather (who brewed his own) and not knowing any fucking better. Suffice to fucking say, he learned some shit that day and had the worst hangover the next. It was fucking awesome.
"I got shot on a goddamn run." Negan complained into his whiskey, rubbing gingerly at his still-tender shoulder. Bastard still hurt like a motherfucker.
"Now why would you go and do a dumb thing like that?" Balthazar asked sarcastically, his mouth curved in amusement.
"Didn't goddamn do that shit on purpose." Negan chuckled and shook his head. As far as conversations with relative strangers went, this one was pretty decent; it even felt almost fucking normal. "Ran into some dickless motherfuckers."
"I imagine calling them that only helped matters." Balthazar smirked into his whiskey and Negan flipped him off with a smug simper of his own.
"I didn't exact-fucking-ly say it to their goddamn dumbass faces." Negan's smile faded somewhat and he took another fortifying sip of alcohol. "Simon and I tried to keep things peaceful, but the bastards were cruising for a fucking bruising."
Balthazar opened his mouth to reply, but was interupted by the sound of the warehouse door opening. Both men looked over to see Simon, Logan, and Bartholomew standing in the doorway.
"There the fuck you are." Logan grinned, looking a bit relieved. "I was worried you'd done something stupid again." He gave his father a withering look, like he was tired of his goddamn bullshit or something and Negan barked a laugh in response.
"Sorry, kiddo." He chuckled, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he simpered at the brat. "Promise I've been fucking behaving myself. Playing nice and making friends and all that wholesome bullshit." Logan raised a skeptical eyebrow, not looking convinced and Negan ruffled his hair affectionately. "So what're you fuckers doing here?"
"Our great and powerful leader has called a meeting." Simon said, without preamble while Logan kicked an innocent fucking lug nut out of the way, looking pissed as all hell and grumbling ridiculous swears to himself as usual when he was fucking mad and needed to goddamn vent his anger.
"Ye-yeah." Barf said in agreement, holding a very grungy looking soccer ball that was going flat. "I wa-was teaching Lo-Logan how to pl-play soccer. He sa-said he never pl-played, but Ma-Martin sa-said..."
"To hurry the fuck up, basically." Simon sighed, obviously resisting the urge to rub at his temples.
"About what?" Negan heaved a laden sigh and tugged the kid closer and Logan allowed it, letting his head thump against Negan's stomach and letting out a heavy sigh of his own. He was hoping to distract Logan from his thoughts. He knew when the kid got 'clingy' he was not thinking happy things.
"Probably some shit or something." Logan grumbled, rolling his eyes, but looking less sad. How fucking bad was shit that Negan could consider the kid being pissed better then the kid being upset?
"Wouldn't say." Simon shrugged, reaching up with one hand to scratch at his jaw. He didn't look excited at the prospect of the meeting either."
"Why not?" Balthazar asked, leaning back a little on his stool and looking a little annoyed, judging by the deadpan expression on his face. "I wonder if that man realizes fixing cars actually takes time and effort. I can't waste my time sitting around listening to him prattle about nothing."
"Most people call that bitching and moaning." Negan mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, pretty goddamned amused by the other man's lackluster reaction. "But I suppose we better fucking go see if he'll kick Lo and I off the island."
"Dickhead." Logan mumbled, shifting his pack. Ever since Dustin had stolen it while Negan was away, the kid had taken to carrying it around with him to prevent another theft.
"Well, we don't have coconuts here, so I doubt it will be official." Simon offered, giving a small smile as they left the warehouse with Balthazar and Bartholomew in tow. Negan rolled his eyes as they walked, glancing down at Logan, who was pretty much fucking sulking and dragging his feet. "Nah. Far as I've heard, there's a new group that's wiping out our scavenging teams. Probably friends of the fuckers we got in that little disagreement with."
"Is it really a disagreement when firearms are involved?" Balthazar asked blandly from the very back of their little group, looking at Negan with a semi-amused expression.
"I don't think so, but it still makes him a dickhead." Logan grumbled, staring straight ahead, his little shoulders tense and an angry scowl on his face as he folded his arms over his chest. Little fucker was practically stomping as they got closer to the main warehosue.
"One fucking way to put it." Negan said, noticing other people were arriving as well. He paused, coming to a stop about ten feet in front of the large warehouse and squared his shoulders, bracing himself for the inevitable bullshit. "Well, let's get this shit over with."
They entered the communal warehouse where most of the other Railyard survivors lived and were now gathered together in a large, milling crowd. The murmur of lowly spoken conversations filled the room as Negan, Logan, and Simon entered. They stayed near the back by the door, watching and waiting for Martin to make his appearance.
Eventually the man of the hour did finally fucking show up, entering through the opposite doors, flanked by two of his higher ranked scavengers. Immediately, the room fell mostly silent, before whispers started stirring up a few seconds later.
"I've called you all to this meeting to let you know what's going on." Martin began, raising his voice loudly to be heard across the room. Negan watched the man intently as Logan folded his arms next to him, aiming death glares at the leader of Railyards; if looks could kill, Martin would be six feet under. "Our scavenging teams are continuing their work to bring in supplies and trustworthy people to our community." Martin's cold blue gaze met Negan's own tawny one and Negan couldn't help but give him a mocking, toothy smile, knowing full well how 'trustworthy' the other man found him. Martin's eyes narrowed and he looked away, lips pursed in his typical pissy-looking glower.
"Unfortunately, with how the world is now, many of our scavengers have been lost." Negan glanced over to Simon for confirmation as a dismayed murmur rippled over the crowd, filling the room. "As we continue to strive forwards towards the future, we remember what we have lost and what survival takes now." Logan was mumbling more swears under his breath as Martin talked on and on and Negan had never been more grateful for his 'I've given teenagers the sex talk with bananas and condoms' face as he listened to the kid growl that Martin was 'a twatwaffling cockburgling fucktrumpet '. Barf was shaking with stifled laughter and his father was keeping an impressively straight face. Negan made a mental note to never play poker with the bastard.
"From what I have been able to learn from reports given to me by survivors of these incidents, there is another group, Marauders, who have staked out territory in the city." There was little doubt that Martin was likely referring to the men they had fought with on their run and it just as likely that Simon had come to a similar conclusion. At least, judging from the concerned frown under his mustache. Logan was apparently passing on his knowledge of creative swears to Barf and the two boys were soon whispering insults that their fathers exchanged wry glances over. "As far as I can guess, we are now in competition with them over resources, as some of our more 'unfortunate' scavengers have discovered."
Martin's icy gaze found Negan's again and Negan could feel his blood pressure fucking rising at the arrogant douchebaggery he could almost see from across the room. He made a show of pretending to look through his jacket for something before flipping off the other man. And was pleased as fucking punch to see that Logan had down the same, although he skipped the show and gone straight for the delivery. Although, chances were, Martin probably couldn't see the kid over the other people gathered in front of them.
Martin's glower intensified as he talked. "I understand your concern, but efforts are being made to increase our defenses and the situation with the Marauders is being handled." The leader of Railyards gave a dismissive wave with one hand. "If I get more information, you'll be told in our next community meeting. That is all."
Almost immediately, people began to disperse. Negan, Simon, and Logan remained where they stood near the back wall, watching as other community members went back to work or their homes in the ward-like sections of the communal warehouse.
"That was..." Simon murmured, struggling to find the right words. Negan raised a brow at him, wondering what the man really thought about his illustrious leader's propaganda.
"Interesting.." Balthazar tried, unsuccessfully to hide his obvious irritation at being dragged over to listen to shit he most likely already knew. "I fail to see how that concerned me."
"It was shit." Logan said, looking up at Simon with an annoyed expression, his expression an oddly mature glower he was starting to wear more and more before mellowed out to a more age appropriate pout. "We could've been coloring or something." He sulked, folding his arms and look at Barf, who shrugged helplessly before nodding in agreement. "I'm glad we don't have coconuts. I would've thrown one at Martin's big stupid dumbass head." Simon chuckled and shook his head, aiming an amused look at Negan with an eyebrow raised.
"Y-you can bo-borrow my soc-soccer b-ball?" Barf offered with a sheepish grin, earning a grudging smile from Logan.
"Sorry, kiddo, maybe next time." Negan chuckled, reaching over to ruffle the brat's hair he bounced his eyebrows up at Simon, as if to say, 'questioning my badass parenting methods?'. However, as quickly as his good mood came, it disappeared. "How many people have gone fucking missing or been hurt by those dickbags, Si?"
"At least ten dead and seven wounded, last I heard, boss." Simon said, becoming serious as well. "I don't think we made matters any worse, though." He said, reaching up to rub at his chin thoughtfully. "Makes sense that it would basically be a free for all over resources now. Can't exactly run to Wal-Mart and grab a six-pack right now." Negan grunted in agreement, mulling over Simon's words and Martin's earlier statements. "Martin is good at keeping relatively calm, but he kinda forgets that other communities are definitely a possibility, especially since people are basically on their own. People are gonna band together, good or bad, eventually we're gonna meet another group and either work together or fight over supplies and territory."
"That makes the most sense." Batlhazar offered, tipping his head to one side thoughtfully. "There may be more walkers in the city, but they can be rather easy to herd and the resources still in town would be worth the risk for many."
"Nothing more then fucking animals fighting over scraps." Negan growled, shaking his head. "What kind of fucking life is that?" He wondered aloud, looking around him at the people who had survived the Fall of the old world to find themselves in a new world of cannibalistic undead and groups of people where only the strongest survived. You could look after those weaker then yourself, but you could only truly fucking help them from a position of strength. "Fucking hell." He sighed, reaching up to rub a hand over his tired face. "So there's a chance that we're gonna actually have a drawn out fight with these fuckers."
"More then likely." Simon agreed with a helpless sort of shrug before tilting his head questioningly at Negan. "What're ya thinking, boss?"
"I'm fucking thinking I'm not sure I wanna be around when the other goddamn shoe drops."
"Kiddo, where are my goddamn boots?" Negan tossed some discarded clothes onto the cot, kneeling on the floor and searching for the fuckers in question.
"How the fuck should I know?" Logan asked, sliding his headphones down around his neck and looking up at his father from where he sat at the table, drawing in his sketchbook. "Where did you have them last?"
"If I fucking knew that shit, I wouldn't be looking for 'em." Negan growled, leaning on his knees to peer under the cot. He saw the boots shoved all the way under the cot and reached for them, finally pulling them out. "Goddamn." He grumbled, pulling them on and lacing them up before standing up, growling curses as his knees protested and his back clicked. "Come the fuck on, kiddo. You wanted to come with me."
"I'm more ready then you are ." Logan said sassily, sliding off the chair and grabbing his pack, before double checking that he had his knife and gun. Negan snorted and grabbed his gear and headed out the door, baseball bat in one hand and Logan at his heels.
They headed out along the chainlink fences topped with razor wire that surrounded Railyard's cluster of warehouses and train tracks. They would circle around the entire complex, looking for walkers and putting them down. It was easy work, to keep Negan's injuries from reopening and spewing blood every-fucking-where, and it was good practice for Logan to hone his skills.
Most people at Railyards scoffed at Negan for teaching his son how to defend himself, but neither he or Logan cared about their shitastic opinions. In Negan's mind, it was naive to think that you could completely shield your child from the kind of shit the world had devolved to. He knew he could never keep Logan safe one-fucking-hundred percent of the time, so the next best thing was to teach the kid to fend for himself.
"Dad...?" Negan looked down at Logan's voice, raising a brow as they walked slowly along. "Do you ever think that maybe the walkers are still... alive?"
"No, kiddo." Negan ran a hand over his face, feeling his beard prickle at his palm. "People become biters after they die. I'm no fucking expert, but I think they don't fucking stick around. My guess is they move on and it's just the virus or whatever the fuck it is making their body still move." He watched Logan's reaction carefully, seeing the kid bite his lower lip as he thought this shit over.
"Do you think that happened with Momma..? That she didn't... try to hurt us.." Negan's heart clenched at the idea of Lucille and he didn't even need a second to consider this.
"No. Your Momma..." His throat tried to close around the words, but he forced them out, knowing he and the kid needed to talk this shit out. "She would've never fucking hurt you, hurt us, Lo." They came to a stop near the fence, facing each other, and watching for each other's reactions. Logan's eyes were brighter then usual, but he didn't cry. "She loved ya. I know she's proud of ya. That... thing back there may have fucking looked like her, but it wasn't her. Ya get me, Lo?"
"Yeah... I think I understand..." Logan's forehead thumped against Negan's stomach again and he chuckled softly, resting a hand on top of the kid's shaggy head. "Thanks... Dad."
"You're fucking welcome, Lo." Negan said softly, stroking Logan's dark hair, even though it would remain as messy and untamed as always.
"I love you, Dad." Logan's little arms wrapped around him and squeezed and Negan returned the gesture, feeling his chest ache with pain, but he felt goddamned happy too. As odd as that sounded.
"I love you too, Logan."
