TWD: Crimson Tears
Chapter 12: Of Blood and Tears
Rick sat beside his son, eyes mopped with tears, and heart pounding nervously in his chest. His son, laid in the bed, hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor. There was a thick gauze pad on his arm wound and an even thicker one on his eye. His entire face was bandaged as to not put strain on his other eye. He was fast asleep from all the heavy pain meds and antibiotics that were going through his system.
Rick took his hand and squeeze it affectionately. He kissed it and shook his head. "Oh Carl," He said tearfully. "I'm sorry. I'm so terribly sorry." He drew a breath. "Sorry for everything that you have to go through with every day. I wish it could be different you know."
He kissed his hand again and then held it in both of his. "From you thinking that I was dead after I was shot on the job and then having to constantly worry about me when I went on supply runs. To us having to search for new places to live, to you getting shot, and then to mom's death." He paused for a moment. "You have been through more than anyone has ever had to go through."
He shook his head. "I don't know." His lower lip trembled. "I wish it could be different. I wish you could have a normal childhood. Not this. Never this." He reached out and brushed aside his son's bangs. "But you are a trooper. You will pull through this. I have faith in you. You will pull through this." He paused again. "Because I need you by my side."
He thought back to when he was shot the first time, right before he met Herschel. The horror from the near death experience, was something that still weighed in his mind. Every now and then, he'd have a nightmare of the whole thing reoccurring again. Except this time, Carl died in his arms. He remembered those nightmares clearly as if they happened in real life.
"I remember once when you were young. You must have been 3 or 4." He began with a faraway look. "I finished a long shift and while mom was cooking dinner. Can't remember what it was, but it smelled amazing. I went searching for you and found you in your room pretending to hide. You had on the deputy costume that I got you for Halloween and you wanted to play cops and robbers." He smiled sadly. "So we played until dinner. Right before dinner, you told me that you wanted be a police officer. I was so proud."
He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hands. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," He said tearfully. "So no more of this." He took his son's hands again and squeezed them affectionately.
XXXXXXX
In the cafeteria, Daryl watched as Deanna handed him a bowl of chopped vegetables. He took the bowl from her and thanked it. He sniffed the food and then began to eat. He wasn't much of a vegetable fan. It made him feel like a rabbit. He wanted to eat the rabbit. Not eat what the rabbit eats. But he couldn't tell Deanna that.
Deanna gave him a small smile and motioned for him to join her at one of the tables. He sat down and looked at her. "You know," She said with a small smile. "You seem like a person who prefers red meat over that."
Daryl chuckled as he chewed on a pepper. It was somewhat bitter tasting, but he was hungry. "Yeah," He said.
She leaned forward in her spot a bit. "So would I," She told him.
Daryl chuckled again. "This place," He said glancing toward the front door. "I'm impressed. Haven't seen one like it before."
Deanna smiled. "Thanks," She beamed. She saw her husband walking past the cafeteria. She needed to talk to him about supplies. "Listen I have to go. You are more than welcome to continue the tour on your own." She stood up and gave him a brief nod.
Daryl nodded back at her and then watched her leave. He sat there in silence and finished the vegetables. When he was done, he threw out the bowl and then refilled his water. He stepped out of the cafeteria and then went to check on Rick.
He found Rick sitting beside his son, looking like an emotional wreck. He handed him his water. "Here," He said. "It aint alcohol, but it'll quench the thirst."
Rick looked at him and took the bottle. "Thanks," He said with a hefty sigh.
"How is he?" He asked. He looked at him, noticing the bandages on his eye and arm. He looked worn out.
Rick looked at his son for a moment. "He's going to pull though," He said to him.
Daryl nodded. "Well he is a tough son of a bitch." He crossed his arms over his chest. "So what's next?"
Rick looked at him. "Well I am going to stay here with Carl until he is well enough to move around." He cleared his throat. "You can stay if you want or return to the prison. It's up to you."
Daryl looked at Carl again and then back at him. "I am going to stay here," He said knowing that Rick would most likely need him. He patted him on the back and then left the infirmary to continue the tour.
He walked around the camp, meeting all different types of people. Most of them were extremely weary of him and he understood why. It was more than just the fact that he was a new face. An outsider. Everyone here was so clean and quiet mannered. He on the other hand, smelled awful and he knew it. He showered the day before, but it didn't help with him spending the whole day outside.
He saw a young girl, possibly around Carl's age, sitting on the rooftop of one of the houses reading a comic book. She saw him watching her and gave him the finger. He chuckled and then shook his head. He turned away from her and walked away.
He saw a woman in her open garage, building a steel sculpture of a large owl. She looked up from her work and smiled at him. He stood there for a moment, watching her, before he approached her. He was curious about her.
"Hey," He said to her.
She looked at him, shielding her eyes with her hand from the sun. "Hey," She said to him.
He nodded his head at the nearly finished owl. "That's interesting," He said.
She turned away from the sun and gave him a brief smile. "Thanks," She said, "Interesting is definitely one way to call it." She put out her hand. "Jessie."
He shook her hand. "Daryl."
"Pleasure," She said. "So I heard what happened. How is he?"
Daryl took a few steps away from her. "Been better," He simply responded.
Jessie nodded and brushed aside her bangs. "What happened to him?" She asked.
Daryl crossed his arms over his chest. "We were attacked on a supply run," He said.
He wondered who they were and if they had anything to do with the previous attack. He wasn't able to get a close enough look at them, with all the walkers that suddenly appeared.
Jessie cursed under her breath. "Well I'm glad that he's okay," She said.
"Yeah," Daryl simply responded.
He heard the garage door open and saw the man who did Carl's surgery step into the garage with a beer in his hand. He looked at Daryl and then Jessie with a slightly drunken look in his eyes.
"Hey," He said to Daryl. He gave him a warning and domineering look.
Daryl caught his reaction and knew exactly what the man was doing. "Hey," He simply responded.
"Is this man bothering you Jessie?" Pete asked, keeping his eyes locked on Daryl.
Jessie shook her head. "No," She said, "We are just talking."
Pete stepped up to him, standing a few inches taller than him. He narrowed his eyes as he took another drink of beer. He licked his lips and took another drink. Jessie stood by her husband, hoping and praying that he wouldn't make a scene.
Daryl turned toward him and held back every urge to shove him aside. "We were just talking man," He said to him.
Pete took a step toward him, trying to tower over him. "Well discussion is over." He took another drink of beer.
Daryl had seen many guys like this before. He was used to it and it didn't faze him. In fact, his brother was a perfect example. From as early as he could remember, his brother controlled him. He may have been roughed him up in the process, but it was out of brotherly love. He wanted to toughen him up.
Daryl gave him a hardened look and then turned away from him. He heard Pete snicker and had to resist the urge to hit him. He knew he could take him down. Pete was bigger than him, but he doubted that he had the street knowledge that he had. Yet, he knew that it would do no good. The moment that Carl was better, they'd leave this place, and not return.
XXXXXXX
Deanna and Reg were sitting on the front porch of their house, sipping on water and discussing what everyone else was discussing. The visitors. The weather was hot and sticky, but without air condition, the house was just as bad as it was inside.
Reg was staring into the distance, not really paying attention to anything. "How's the boy," He asked as he sipped on his water.
Deanna looked at him. "He's going to pull through," She said. "It was a close call though."
He looked at her. "And these guys," He said, "Especially the wild looking one."
Deanna laughed. "Both of them are certainly interesting characters," She said. "Especially the wild looking one." She took a sip of water. "But after talking with them, I think I got a pretty good read on them."
Reg looked at her. "Yeah?"
Deanna drew a breath. "Not everyone is lucky to have what we have here," She began. She touched his knee and looked into his eyes. "We are blessed to have so many things here that keep us alive, while the state of the rest of the world dwindles." She paused for a moment. "Rick told me about what he went through out there and all I can say, it is very colorful."
Reg shook his head. "Do you trust them?" He asked her. "I mean to be around everyone here."
"I trust them enough," She said with a small shrug. "These aren't bad people hun. These are people that have been through so much shit that it bleeds right off them. One look at them and you can see that."
Reg nodded. "Yeah I saw that," He said. "Especially from Rick and adding to his kid's near death experience doesn't help the case." He shook his head. "I can't begin to understand what he's going through."
Deanna ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah," She agreed.
"The people that attacked him," He asked her. "Did either of them give a good description on the attackers?"
She shook her head. "Everything happened so fast," She answered, "That they didn't really get a good look at them."
Reg nodded and gave her an anxious look. "I just don't want any violence to come here," He said.
Deanna took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I feel the same way babe," She said.
XXXXXXX
The Governor took a sip of water and glanced at Martinez who had his eyes on the road. There was a toothpick in his mouth and he was humming to the Spanish song that was playing on the CD player. He didn't understand much Spanish, so he had no idea what the song was about.
He shifted in his spot and closed his eyes. He was tired from a restless night of sleep and with since they still had a good portion of their drive still to go, he decided to close his eyes for a bit. This was the perfect time to take a nap. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought back to his meeting with Negan.
When Negan was ready to talk alone with him, he took him to his trailer to discuss everything. He opened the door and motioned for Negan to step inside first. Negan gave him a small enthusiastic look and the stepped inside. The Governor followed shortly after.
"Can I get you anything?" The Governor asked him.
Negan looked around the small trailer. There were two beds, a small kitchen area, bathroom, and a shower in the back. A small bench was across from the cabinets that were lined against the wall. He sat down and ran a finger along the clean, yet slightly greasy table.
He looked at the Governor and smiled. "No thanks," He said politely. He watched the Governor take a seat across from him. "Nice little camp you have here." He emphasized on the word little.
The Governor caught his tone. "Thanks," He said ignoring his attitude.
"Okay back to business," Negan said drumming his fingers on the table. "Now I don't know how much traveling you have done since the outbreak has begun, but it can't be really too much."
The Governor leaned back in his chair. "I actually have traveled a lot." He half boasted. "Not only from trying to get supplies and making sure my people are safe, but when Woodbury fell, I kind of went on a bend. I went on the run and just needed time."
Negan nodded as he told him what happened with the fall of Woodbury. As he spoke, he thought about what he thought of the guy. He could easily tell that the Governor was a cunning, cruel, savage, brutal and highly intelligent man. A man who was determined not only to be a survivor, but to be a strong leader as well.
He knew nothing of the man, outside of what he learned from having spied on him. Yet, he could tell that this guy had been through something real serious. It had scarred him and used it to fuel himself to try and gain an advantage.
"It makes sense," Negan frowned. "So what do you want?"
The Governor tilted his head slightly and gave him a confused look. "What?"
"Let me rephrase that." Negan shifted in his spot. "I know that you are the type of person that is meant to lead. There are people out there, that are just plainly meant to lead."
The Governor nodded his head in agreement. "And what about you?" He asked. "Where do you fall in that?" This guy sure like to talk.
Negan chuckled. "The same as you," He said, "But at first, I didn't want to lead. Yet, I saw that the position was needed. Soon, I came up with a plan to survive and when that plan came to be, before I knew I it, I had a large following."
The Governor frowned. "How large of a group are you talking about?" He didn't trust this man one bit and was curious to see if he'd answer him. He didn't think he would.
Negan chuckled and shook his head with a playful smile. "Let's just say it's a large group," He answered.
The Governor was not surprised that he didn't get an answer. Negan liked to play games. He liked to twist around words and show that he was the smartest in the block. Before the outbreak, he would have made a great politician. Or a lawyer.
"Okay then," He asked him, "And this plan, what is that exactly?"
Negan continued to smile at him. "Let's just say," He began, "That there are many more groups out there and that possess things that interest me." He removed a map from his pocket and placed it on the table. "I trade with them." He pushed the map to him.
The Governor didn't think that this man was the trading type. He seemed to be the type of person that controlled others. Plays the nice friend card and then flips it over when he wants something from you. He then takes it, regardless of the price. Regardless of the consequences.
He opened the map and looked at it. He saw a large X on part of it. "I am guessing that this place," He tapped the X. "Is Alexandria?"
"Yep," Negan answered simply.
"And this place?" The Governor continued, "Do you trade with them?"
Negan shook his head. "Not yet." He licked his lips. "But I intend to."
The Governor nodded. "I see," He said, "And why do you want my group to go there?"
Negan rapped his finger on the table. "I'm merely suggesting that this place can be a perfect fit for your group," He said to him. "Shit. You can stay here for all I care." He paused for a moment and leaned forward in his seat. "But how long do you expect to stay here safely? There are many more dangers out there other than walkers." He hinted to him about his group and what he did to survive.
"I know that," The Governor said. He didn't want to get more involved with this guy, but he knew he was already in it far enough. Just with the group he brought here now, he could easily wipe him out.
Negan caught the look in his eyes. "It seems as if you already have seen the devil before?"
The Governor thought of Rick and his smug, saint-like look that irked him so. He nodded. "Saw him," He said grimly. He really couldn't wait to pound his face in. Wanted to feel his hands around his throat and his life slowly draining away.
Negan drummed his fingers on the table again. "I guess the devil is the one who gave you that?" He pointed to his eyepatch.
The Governor nodded. "One of the many devils," He said with a grisly look.
Negan grew serious. "Now if you could wipe out every single one of those devils," He said dangerously. "I bet you would without batting an eye." He saw that he was agreeing with him. "Going to Alexandria, will give you just that."
The Governor gave him an unsure look. "Will it?"
Negan nodded. "Yes," He said excitement flashing in his eyes. "You go there and show that your group can be an asset to them, then you will have a better chance to go and take out the devil."
The Governor groaned and woke up from his short nap. He rubbed his sore neck, from sleeping in an awkward position. He looked at Martinez who was still chewing on his toothpick and playing Spanish music of some sort.
"How long was I out?" He asked him.
Martinez glanced at him. "I don't know." He shrugged. "An hour or so."
The Governor continued to rub his neck. "Good," He said as he thought about Negan's last words about killing the devil. He couldn't wait to do it.
XXXXXXX
Rick was half asleep, when he heard a soft knock on the door. He opened his eyes and looked at the door as Deanna entered. She gave him a kind smile and then looked at Carl, who was still fast asleep. His eye and arm had fresh bandages and the IV was removed now that he was out of danger.
"How is he?" She asked him as she closed the door gently behind her. She pulled up a chair beside Rick.
Rick cleared his throat and nodded. "He's going to make it," He said feeling relieved. "Been asleep ever since the surgery."
Deanna shot a glance at Carl. "I'm glad to hear," She responded.
Rick looked at her. "Do you have any children?" He asked her.
"Two boys," She answered. "Aiden and Spencer." She smiled proudly. "Besides Carl, do you have any more?"
Rick shook his head. "Yeah," He said with a fatherly smile. "A daughter named Judith. She's almost a year old."
Deanna was surprised. "She was born during the outbreak," She frowned. "Haven't heard of any babies born during this shit storm." Her eyes widened for a moment. "Bet it doesn't make it easy then."
Rick chuckled bitterly thinking of the near death experiences he had over the years. Having a child that young, definitely made it harder. Yet, he didn't know what he would do without her. She was everything to him. When he looked at her. Held her. Played with her. Spent time with her. It made all the hell in the world not seem as bad.
"No it doesn't," He shook his head. "But I couldn't see a day without her or Carl." He glanced at his son, wishing that he'd wake up and that they could return to the prison.
"I know the feeling," She agreed with him. "As hard as it is having kids, I couldn't see a day without my boys. They are a handful sometimes, but they are everything to me."
Rick nodded. "Thank you for this," He said to her.
Deanna shot a look at Carl. "You're welcome," She said.
"For real," He continued. "You don't know us, yet you open your doors for us. You could have turned us away from the way beginning." He wasn't sure why he was telling her this, other than the fact it felt good to talk.
"Even if your son wasn't hurt," She began, "I wouldn't have turned you away."
Rick was touched. He gave her an emotional look. "There aren't too many people out here these days that would open their doors so freely," He said to her.
He thought of Woodbury and everything that went down there. He thought of the Governor and his arrogant look. A big part of him wished he could have wiped that smirk off his face, but he had no idea if he was still alive.
"It seems to me that you have met some pretty awful people out there," She said to him.
Rick nodded. "To say the least," He simply said.
Deanna saw his faraway look and caught his tone. She drew a breath and stood up. She replaced her chair and then patted him on the back. "I have to run," She said to him. "But if you need anything, just let me know." She stood there for a moment and then left the infirmary.
XXXXXXX
Negan sat in the back of the SUV with his eyes closed and a cigar in his mouth. He was listening to a Latin mix that he created before the outbreak. It was only instrumental, but the music was quite calming. He always listened to it, right before he met with a group.
It first began with Paula talking to the group, to see if everything they had arranged went smoothly. If yes, then he would stay in the SUV out of sight, but if there was an issue, he would make an appearance. When he made that appearance, it was then when things usually got messy.
He glanced at Lucille, who laid on the seat beside him. She had been properly cleaned from the last time he used her. When he left Terminus, brain matter and blood was all over it. As he cleaned off the brain and blood, he thought about how good it fell to smash in the guy's head.
He wasn't sure what he enjoyed more. The feel of Lucille in his hands as he smashed the victim's head in or the fear in everyone's else eyes as he did that. He liked to feel in charge. No. He needed to be in charge and to do so, he had to make sure everyone around him feared him. The more they feared him, the more it fueled him.
He heard a knock on the window and saw Michelle standing out there with a cigarette in her mouth. He rolled down the window and asked, "Gone south?"
Michelle took a drag. "South and even more south."
Negan nodded and put out the cigar. He then grabbed Lucille. "Okay baby," He said to his best mate. "Time for us to hit a homerun."
He walked into the camp, known as the Hilltop, and approached the group of his group and then group. His group, around six of them, were holding assault rifles ready if there was any violence. The Hilltop crew, included everyone and all their guns were on the ground before them.
He approached Paula and nodded at her as she stepped aside. "A little birdy tells me that you guys don't have what was promised," He said in a fake cheerful manner. "That is not cool. Not cool at all." One of Someone began to speak up, but stopped abruptly when Negan looked at him roughly.
Negan wagged a scolding finger at him. "You see how this works," He continued his rant. "I give you protection from the outside and you trade that in for supplies. I thought we had an agreement here." He began to pace in front of them. "I have always held up my end. You guys." He pointed Lucille at each and every one of them in a threatening manner. "Well if this was a first offense, I would be lenient, but lately you guys have been striking out." He chuckled at his baseball joke.
"It isn't easy and you know it," One of the men defended their group.
Negan looked at him and swiftly approached him. He grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him the stomach. "Jesus. Jesus. Jesus." He sang loudly. "Though shall know when to keepth their mouth shut. Can I hear an amen brothers and sisters!" He turned away from him and saw a young male, probably around sixteen help Jesus up to his feet. "Come here son."
The boy glanced at Jesus fearfully. "That isn't an option," He ordered.
The boy gulped and approached him. Negan put an arm around him and squeezed him playfully. "I haven't seen you before son," He asked. "You are usually in hiding when I come to visit?"
"Yes," The boy weakly said.
Negan nodded. "Well I am Negan," He said. "I know you have heard about me and everything that you heard, is true." He paused for a moment eyeing the fear in the eyes of everyone that lived here. "You must think I am an evil man?" He asked playfully. He ruffled the boy's hair and then stepped away from him. The boy began to move. "I didn't tell you that you can move." He snapped as the boy and half of the residents jumped.
"Sorry," The boy stammered.
Negan smiled at him. "No harm done," He said with a friendly smile. "I like to get my way and when I don't, well you know what happens." He saw a couple who were standing behind Jesus, both of them emotionally distraught at the sight of their son beside him. They were hoping that nothing would happen to their son.
"So how are we going to fix this?" Negan asked serious manner. "Because this will not do."
Jesus took a step forward, ignoring the looks from everyone, especially their leader. "If you give us a few more days," He suggested. "We will get you the rest."
Negan gave him a playful look. "You know I don't really find that reassuring," He said looking Jesus dead in the eyes. "Empty promises." He paused for a moment. "Wow you have such stunning eyes. It would be a shame for me to carve them out and then shove it down your throat." He chuckled as if he told his own joke.
Jesus wasn't fazed by his threat. He continued to stare him down, showing that he wouldn't fold under his pressure. He wouldn't let his threats get to him. If he let him get to him, then all would be lost. Negan would go on a killing spree and would worsen the situation.
"So there are two ways I can do this," Negan continued, "We can do it the somewhat civilized way and take half of your supplies or we can do it my way." He narrowed his eyes at Jesus especially. "And we all know how that will turn out."
No one responded. Negan paced in front of the group pointing Lucille at random people in the group. Most stood there silently, lost in their horror, but there was the occasional, who gasped as if they'd get struck by his bat.
"Well now," He frowned, "I guess we do it my way."
As he walked passed the boy, he threw an elbow in his face breaking his nose. The boy cried out in pain and reached up toward his nose, catching the blood. His parents cried out and had to be held back by other members.
Negan swung Lucille connecting with the boy's head with a gruesome crunch. His parents wailed as their son fell to his knees with blood streaming down his face. His vision blurred and grew dark. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Negan's boots beside him and his parent's hysterical crying.
Negan raised Lucille and continued to wail on him until he was out of breath. He stopped and stood up straight, feeling a bit sore. He looked at the flattened boy in front of him, feeling no remorse. In fact, he wanted to continue to use Lucille in batting practice. He turned back toward the group and glanced at the parents, who were on the ground sobbing in each other's arms.
"Okay peoples. Now we take half of your things." He looked at the blood on his leather coat and shook his head. "Shit," He swore grimly, "This was my favorite coat." He groaned and walked back to his SUV, while the rest of his crew went to take half of their supplies.
