Unthinkable 10

Thanks to the guest who gave a such a positive review – I'm glad you are enjoying it! I wrote other stories too, if you care to check them out...

Anyway, back to the story. What's Rick planning? I think he even managed to convince himself that he wasn't the one who's been hurting his son – that it was Merle. He's gone completely batshit crazy – if he hadn't lost his mind after Lori died, he would never have done any of it. It's like his personality changed over night, made him do despicable things that in another life, he would never have lowered himself to do.

Trigger Warning: Rick is pure evil in this chapter and the abuse is really graphic here.

i

Rick stormed out of the Infirmary tent, igonring Herschel's cries for him to stop and come back. In his mind, he had almost convinced himself that Merle put those bruises on his son's hips, it would never have been Daryl. Yet Daryl always did what his big brother told him to – the power he had over him was eerie.

He let himself continue the fantasy to its natural conclusion.

Had Daryl known? Or merely condoned it?

Just then, Glenn ran after him. 'Hey, where ya goin'?'

'Nowhere.' Actually, he had just seen the flash of white of Lori's dress from the corner of his eye and he was preparing to follow, all thoughts of confronting Merle in front of the group for show forgotten for the moment. But when he looked back, she was gone – he couldn't find her.

'Carl's awake!' Glenn babbled excitedly. 'Come and see.'

Rick's face fell. 'No – I gotta go and see 'bout somethin'...' He turned away.

The young man looked at him questioningly, sensing something was amiss. 'Don't you want to...'

'Alright. I'm comin'.' Rick thought it would seem strange if he didn't rush straight back to Carl's bedside. But part of him was reluctant. Letting go of his fantasy that he hadn't done those things to him, somebody else did – he worried that the little slut would spill his guts. Maybe already had to Herschel, of all people.

No, he wouldn't believe him. Nobody would. Besides, Rick had got him good and scared, the kid was terrified that his father would hurt his half-sister if he told.

The leader put a wide grin of relief on his face. 'I'm comin'. Camp business can wait.'

Glenn grinned back and immediately started prattling about nothing. Rick barely heard him, pre-occupied with his son.

…

They went back into the Infirmary.

'Ah...Good.' Herschel gave him a small, sad smile. 'Glenn found ya...He's awake.' 'Carl? Ya decent? Daddy's here to see ya.'

Oh, the irony. Rick thought to himself.

'Carl?' Rick sat on his bed while the teenager looked at him blearily. Out of habit, he started to stretch out his hand to touch his hair but thought better of it and withdrew. Last thing he wanted was for him to freak out or flinch away in front of the others. Might give them ideas. So, he settled on just asking him, 'How ya feelin' son?'

'Fine.' He turned away.

'He's been through a lot. But at least his fever's gone down.' Herschel piped in as if apologising for him and looked meaningfully at Rick and nudged his head in Glenn's direction. The leader understood.

'Glenn, do ya mind leavin' us?'

'No problem. I'm just glad that you're OK, Carl. We heard that you fought those Walkers off like a pro. Must be spending all that time with the Dixons is rubbing off on you.'

Carl took the man's praise with barely a change of expression. Instead, he turned and looked fretfully at his father.

'See you later, when you're feeling stronger.'

Carl smiled wanly up at him then in farewell and with that, Glenn left to go and find Maggie.

'Now.' Rick looked at Herschel who nodded and leaned forward, ignoring how his son recoiled slightly, hoping that the nearest thing they had to a doctor on site wouldn't notice or would just put it down to the abuse. 'We know someone's been hurtin' ya son.'

'Don't...Don't know what ya talkin' about!' Carl's face flooded with red and he twisted the top of the blanket. He glared at his father in disbelief.

'I know it's difficult to talk about.' Rick grabbed his chin then titled his chin up. 'Sh. Someone's been makin' ya do things ya don't want to do, ain't they, huh, son?'

Carl tore his face away while his eyes blazed with anger. 'What the fuck?'

'Better leave us alone, Doc, if ya don't mind... Think it'll be easier...' Rick was genuinely worried that Carl wouldn't play ball in this little charade of theirs and blurt something out he shouldn't. He needed to speak to him on his own.

'No!' Carl started to struggle. 'Don't go!' He called out to the old man.

Herschel frowned. 'I don't have to, son. Not if...'

'It's OK.' Rick was pinning him down by the shoulders. 'Poor kid's jus' embarrassed is all.'

'Fine. I'll be back in about 30 mins to check up on ya, OK, son? Gonna get me some dinner. Want any, Rick?'

Rick shook his head. He wasn't hungry – well not hungry for food, anyway.

'Don't worry, ya Dad'll talk to ya and then I'll bring ya something nice back to eat. OK?'

Rick smiled deep inside because that would be ample time to do what he wanted while Carl looked at him in terror, he glared at him, warning him to keep quiet.

As soon as Herschell was gone, he went and closed the tent door and bore down on his son.

'Yeah. Don't worry, 'cos Daddy's here.' He mocked and yanked the blanket off him. He was naked, wrapped up in a sheet underneath, the clean clothes his father had brought with him were put to the side. Carl wouldn't need them until after Rick had finished with him. No point in dirtying them up again – might make the old man ask questions.

'No, please...Don't do it, not here.'

Rick raised his eyebrows and slapped him hard so that his head rocked back.

'Want me to stop?' He sneered. 'Ya know what'll happen to Judith if ya don't let me.'

Carl nodded and cringed back. But he didn't cry like he used to, Rick observed proudly. His son had been spoilt and self-confident little brat, almost bordering on arrogance in the old days, so at least what they did had toughened him up some. It made a welcome change to see him cowed and submissive in a way a few Walkers couldn't sudue me.

'Take off the sheet.' His father ordered him, already panting with lust.

He obeyed, unwrapping it from his body. Before, he'd been bent over trying to hide his privates from the prying eyes of his father, even though he had the sheet covering them.

'Good boy.' Rick ran his fingers through his hair in approval. 'Ya always let Daddy, don't ya?'

Carl shuddered at his touch and got on his stomach, getting in position and bracing himself for the assault.

He grit his teeth as he felt his father preparing him and let out a shaky sob when he felt one finger slicked up in lube slide in his hole, followed by another. And another.

'Don't take on so, son.' He heard him drawl behind him. 'If I do it right, ya might even get to like it.'

'Fuck you!' Carl never had – not with his father. Infact, Carl couldn't believe this was his father...some demon had taken over his body, he thought for the millioneth time each time he raped him. He couldn't ever imagine enjoying sex ever again after this – especially with a man. Not that he liked men anyway.

Rick slid himself in. 'This OK, son?' He stroked his hair in a gesture of the old, tender affection he used to have for him but Carl wasn't fooled. His father didn't care that he didn't respond or participate.

'Screw ya, sick fuck!' He couldn't help hissing back. It hurt so fucking much even though he could tell the bastard was trying to take it slow and be gentle but he was still hurting from there.

That disrespect made his father mad and Rick grunted and pulled out before he slammed his way in, taking care to put his hand over his mouth to muffle his son's noises of protest and pain. He thrust his way carelessly, knewing that he was probably going to make him bleed again and Herschel might notice a more recent injury if he checked him over again which he would no doubt do.

'You little boy-slut. Ya like it really, ya let me!' He panted more obscene filth into his ear between moans that he also tried to muffle.

'Dad.' Carl whimpered. This was the worst yet. 'Ya hurtin' me. Please jus' fuckin' stop.'

Rick snarled and gripped his hair, shoving his face down into the pillow.

He knew he was taking a big risk, fucking his son here of all places but he just hadn't been able to hold back. Anyone could walk in even if they were at dinner. Anyone of them could come in and check in on the boy but the danger only added to his excitement. He wouldn't have been able to resist, his own flesh and blood had become like a drug to him. Not getting what he wanted in the woods when they'd been rudely interrupted by the Dixons had only served to frustrate him further and increase his lust for his own son.

Besides, he had to make a point. He had sensed that the little whore was on the verge of telling someone other than the Dixons, accusing him. Betraying his own father! Breaking down...and telling Herschel what Daddy did to him behind closed doors.

He nipped his throat and suppressed a yell of triumph while he could feel his son shaking beneath him as he le released his seed inside him. Carl wasn't trembling in passion though.

Meanwhile, Rick kept an ear out for the others or Herschel returning and calculated he had about 10 minutes.

He pulled out and Carl let out a whimper against the pillow.

Rick got a basin and some water and quickly washed the blood off him and the trickles of his own semen leaking out of his son's abused hole with a rag. The little pussy whimpered again at the pain when he merely swiped across it but he didn't take any notice. The ex-cop grimaced as he put it in his pocket. No reason to leave incriminating evidence behind but it was still distasteful.

'Now, now.' He crooned and soothed his hair. 'Over now. But thank-you.' He laid a gentle kiss on his son's neck.

Carl let out a reluctant sob of humiliation. 'Please, Dad, don't...'

Rick didn't answer but flipped him over easily and started to dress him hastily in he new pyjamas. He slapped his hands away when he tried to protest, insisting that he was old enough to do it himself before he tucked him back up in bed and drew the blanket over him again.

It was like nothing had happened, that he hadn't just been inside him a few minutes ago.

Rick felt himself already getting hard at the thought and forced himself to think of other things.

The boy looked anywhere but at his father while the silent tears leaked from his eye-lids.

Rick slapped him again. 'Stop cryin', ya little sissy!' He hissed at him. 'He'll be back soon!'

Carl sniffed and obeyed and his eyes grew a dead looking, glassy look that his father didn't much care for.

'I'll tell. Merle and Daryl already know – they saw ya!'

Rick did a double-take. So the whining little pussy did actually have balls after all.

'What?' He hissed, his voice growing dangerous.

'I'll tell.' He looked up at him defiantly without fear now. Just that cold, dead, calculating look. Rick knew then that he had lost him forever. He'd never be able to touch him, let alone hug him like he used to without him recoiling. Part of him was sad about that but not enough that he planned to stop what he was doing. Damage was done in any case and there was no going back now.

'Ya do that and I'll kill Judith. She ain't mine, anyway.'

'Ya don't know that for sure! Ya won't. Even someone as twisted as ya wouldn't kill a baby.'

'Ya sure about that, son?' Rick laughed and got his hunting-kinfe out and trailed it across his neck. He was gratified to see that look of abject terror return to his face.

'Do it.' Now, his son looked relieved and his expression of fear was replaced with one of relief. 'Can't take any more of what ya do to me, anyway. Better off dead.' He offered his neck and his submissive gesture made his father's loins throb with desire. It was a crying shame that they didn't have time for Round 2. He couldn't risk being discovered.

'Now, don't ya say that!' Rick put his knife away. He'd only meant to threaten him a little, bring him back to heel. Why would he kill something he got so much enjoyment out of?

'Now, this is what's gonna happen. We're gonna ask ya who's been fuckin' ya and ya gonna tell us it was Merle.'

'No! I won't say it was him!'

Rick slapped him again – as hard as he could without actually leaving marks.

'Ya will. Ya can even say it was Daryl too – both of them, if ya like.'

'NO! They ain't sick like ya!' He yelled forgetting to be afraid in his anger. 'They never hurt me!'

'Shut the fuck up!' Rick grabbed him by the throat. 'Ya want people to hear?' The leader glanced fearfully at the camp flap. The old man would be back any minute. Luckily, the kitchen area was the other side of the camp-site. But it didn't mean that someone passing by couldn't hear.

His son looked cowed again, just the way he'd got used to him looking and liked.

'I won't say it was them...'

Rick knew he had to change tack. Appeal to the boy's intelligence.

'OK – say it was me. Who's gonna believe ya, huh? Or them? Those two – they're just two dumb rednecks...Petty criminals and I used to be the Sheriff of this county. No-one will believe ya, son.'

Carl looked down, considering the truth of his words and his father could see his determination wavering.

'They won't believe ya, Carl. None of 'em.' Rick regretfully repeated his argument. 'But they'll believe it of Merle. Weren't he there when Maggie was almost raped by the Governor? Jus' stood back and watched, I imagine, if I know him.'

He watched his son's lower lip tremble in his thin face and decided to push home his advantage. His trump card, so to speak. He would never hurt a child as young as his sister but Carl didn't know that.

'Besides, I'll kill Judith if ya do. I mean it.' He added grimly.

Carl opened his mouth to answer but jus' thenhey heard someone undoing the tent flap and it was Herschel coming in and rubbing his hands.

'Hi, there son. Glad you and your Dad had a talk.'

He glanced questioningly at Rick with a look that meant 'Did he tell ya who it was?'

End-note

Oh crap. Is Carl going to stick to his guns and finally tell the truth to someone other than the Dixons? But it'll be difficult with his sick bastard of a Dad watching him and listening to him the whole time. Rick's really got to him and messed him up, poor boy. Besides, he keeps threatening to hurt his sister and Carl believes him after everything he's done to him and he's his own flesh and blood!