Carl was angry. Angry at his dad for not fighting back, angry at Enid for not being grateful or understanding why he'd locked her in a closet, angry at Sophia for taking off. Merle and Sophia had taken off in the middle of the night with no indication of where they went other than a letter to Francine saying Merle had somewhere he needed to be and he'd be back when he could. He was worried about Sophia and even more angry at her for not confiding in him. The conversation with her from two days ago, or rather the not conversation, had him feeling on edge. What happened if she didn't come back? What happened if she got caught too? Even with Merle with her, so many things could go wrong and she hadn't even said goodbye. What if he never saw her again?
His dad was leaving today to go on a scavenging trip for them. The assholes who'd taken Ani and Daryl, who'd killed Glenn. They'd done all that and still his dad was just falling in line like a good little soldier rather than fighting like they should be. Carl didn't care what it took; he wanted Negan dead and that was all there was to it. For what he did to Glenn, for what he threatened to do to Sophia, for what he'd made his dad almost do to him, for how his men had treated Enid yesterday. A myriad of reasons kept floating through his mind, fueling his anger even further as his dad came into the room with Aaron and Michonne. Throwing another dart and missing the board yet again, Carl did his best to ignore them all as Rick began telling him what they were planning.
"You should come with us," Rick tried, hoping to appease some of the anger and frustration he knew his son was feeling.
"Someone's gotta be here for Judith," he immediately shot back.
"There's people that want to help. We'll only be gone a few days at the most. We need supplies. They're gonna be coming back soon."
"Is this how it's gonna be now?" Carl asked his dad angrily.
"Yes," Rick said back just as heated. "It is. You know that."
Carl angrily threw a dart at the board he was trying to just hit now that he was missing an eye. He hadn't thought about it before, but now that they had to deal with the Saviors, Carl couldn't help but think he really needed to start working on his aim. What happened if he accidentally shot one of theirs because he wasn't good with his aim? It had him even more frustrated over everything when the dart completely missed, falling on the floor after hitting the door frame next to where the board hung.
Sighing and walking over to the board to pull the darts out of the wall, Carl told his dad, "See you in a few days."
"We should get goin'," he heard his dad say as they walked out.
A short time later, Carl was sitting on a chair as Michonne prepared to go somewhere. "Why didn't you go with my dad?" he asked her.
"I have to figure some things out," she answered.
"What is there to figure out?" he asked as he followed her into the kitchen.
"How we can do this," she replied. "If we can."
"Well, we can't," Carl told her. "No, not like this!"
"Your dad thinks differently."
"And he's wrong! You know it," he reasoned.
Michonne wouldn't look him in the eye as she continued to gather supplies, "Even if I think he is...I don't know." She looked at him right as she said she didn't know before putting her bag on and opening the door, "Change your bandage later and be nice to Olivia."
He watched her leave while thinking that if even Michonne was considering this life, what life was there to live? They were just slaves. That's all they were to Negan, he'd even said that he owned them. Who even thinks like that? Owning people died out when slavery was abolished, but now that the world went to hell, people were back to being able to own others? It made no sense to him how they could go from being the ones who made others watch their backs to being the ones who had to watch their own. He simply couldn't accept that this was the way of life now and that this was how life was going to be for him from now on. Carl didn't want to stand by and watch the people he loved and cared for get hurt anymore. He didn't want to just sit and watch as the Saviors destroyed what was left of their home.
With a sigh, he turned away from the door only for movement out the living room window to catch his eye. Enid was heading to the wall with her backpack after telling him she didn't want to go out anymore. Carl worried she might be trying to do something stupid and left the house, not wanting both of the girls he cared about going missing. It was already hard enough on him knowing Sophia was missing and just assuming she was with Merle. The ache in his chest from when she'd admitted to liking him had been growing while she was away and he wondered briefly if it would ever go away and when as he left his house.
Quickly making his way out to where she was, he called out, "Enid."
The young girl stopped what she was doing without turning around, panting as she said quietly, "I need to see Maggie."
"You're walking to the Hilltop? It's far."
"I'll be fine," she told him as she started climbing the wall.
"Maybe," he said.
"I'll be fine!" she exclaimed, finally looking at him. "I have better aim than you."
That stung. Carl knew he had piss poor aim right now. He only had one fucking eye now anyways. He was still attempting to throw darts right! While his ability to write and eat had improved immensely with practice and help from others, no one could retrain him on how to shoot with one eye. Sure, he could hit something with a gun, but it wasn't where he was aiming so much as a lucky shot. He wasn't going to stop carrying or trying, though, so what Enid said, even if it was the truth, it added fuel to his anger and soured his view of her. He liked her, but what she'd said hurt.
"I didn't mean it that way," Enid said after a couple moments of pained expression from her while Carl just looked down.
"I'm not saving you anymore," he told her quietly only for her to scoff.
"That's what happened in the armory?" she asked a little heated herself as she angrily put the next foothold into place. "You saved me?"
"Yeah."
"You made it back in one piece," she argued. "You're still here."
"I'm not talking about that," he responded.
Enid turned back towards Carl and softly said, "I'm sorry you had to see it."
"I'm not."
She kept climbing until she was over the wall, Carl walking away at that point with a sigh. While he couldn't fault her for wanting to go see Maggie, he couldn't be the one to do everything for her all the time and he knew it. All that time in the woods with her reading comics, running, hiding from walkers, it was all just momentary breaks from reality he decided. Although, even as he decided that he turned around and looked at the spot where she'd gone over. With another sigh, he walked back to his house and up to the bathroom to change the bandages on his eye.
He tried, he really did, not to think about Enid going to the Hilltop all alone. It was a twenty mile journey, which might not have been much in the old world, but in a world infested by the walking dead? The pit in his stomach continued to grow until he sighed and grabbed his hat. Storming out of the house, he went to the wall where she'd climbed over and started the task himself. Once he was on the other side of the wall and safe enough away that he wouldn't be spotted by the patrol, he managed to find a car that actually still had it's keys and ran. He figured that it had to be a spare for Alexandria considering how close it was to the town and that it wouldn't be missed.
With a huge smile on his face, he sat in the driver's seat and started the engine. He'd never even driven before, but it couldn't be that hard. Thankfully, the car was an automatic or else he wouldn't have been able to pull it off. Pulling the shifter from 'P' to 'D," he gingerly stepped on the gas, or what he thought was gingerly, and shot forward, making him slam on the other pedal and bang his forehead into the steering wheel. With a groan, he sat up and tried again, this time slowly and timidly putting his foot on the gas and slowly starting down the road. It only took about ten minutes to find Enid, the girl ducking out of the way as he revved the engine to hit the walker that had her frozen in place otherwise. As soon as he hit it he ran into a cement pole and got momentarily stuck before the walker stood back up. Throwing the car into reverse, he slammed the walker into a concrete slab, pinning it there with the car. As Enid walked up, he rolled down his window, the smile still bright on his face.
"What are you doing here?" she asked him.
"I felt like a drive," he told her proudly.
They left the car there, walking on opposite sides of the road. Neither said much of anything at all as they traveled. It wasn't that he couldn't think of anything to say, Carl just didn't known what to say. He'd told her he wasn't saving her anymore and then went right back to saving her. And now he was traveling to Hilltop with her just to make sure she stayed safe on the way there. He was a walking hypocrite and he knew it.
"Not sorry you saw it?" Enid asked all of a sudden, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"What?"
"Not sorry you saw it?" she repeated.
"Yeah. I watched it. I didn't look away."
"Why?"
"Because, when it was happening, I knew that I needed to remember it. Phia didn't look away either. We both watched to remember. That way when we have a chance to kill him, there wouldn't be a choice."
"I think I'd kill him, too," she told him, staring straight ahead as he looked over at her. "It's messed up but...that's how it is. You do things for the ones you love," she said, though she rolled her eyes as she said it, the tone of her voice making Carl realize she didn't mean what she'd said, not really. "Loved."
"It's not for them," Carl readily admitted. "I'm sorry I locked you in the armory."
"I didn't need to see it," she said immediately. "We don't even know if Maggie's okay."
"We'll get there."
"Yeah."
"Hey, at least you'll get to know if she's okay by the end of the day," he said, trying to be supportive even as the irritation rose at how one track minded Enid was being at the moment. "Ani's pregnant, too, and she was taken. We don't know when we'll know if she and Daryl are okay. And Sophia's missing too."
"Why didn't you go after her?"
"Huh?"
"Why come after me but not Sophia?"
"She left in the middle of the night. I didn't even know she was gone until the next day. I'm not a hunter or a tracker like she is. I'm not as much of a fighter as her either. I couldn't find her or help her even though I want to," he said, not realizing his slip of the tongue at admitting he wanted to go after Sophia himself.
"So you came after me because you knew I left and where I was going?"
"Something like that."
"I'm not weak, Carl," she said, spinning on her heel to face him. "I can take care of myself. I was alone for a month before I found Alexandria."
"And hid or ran from even one walker even though you had a knife. I just watched you freeze at the sight of a bloody walker!"
"I don't need your protection."
"No, you don't. But you've got it anyway."
"Why do you even care?"
"I don't know," Carl admitted. "I just do."
He slowed down, watching her walk ahead of him and knowing she was having a hard time coming to terms with what he'd said. She hadn't spoken a word since their conversation and they were already almost halfway to Hilltop. Carl wasn't sure what he should say to make things better. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if there was anything he could say. It seemed like no matter what he did or said to either Enid or Sophia, he was smack in the middle of whatever it was that was happening with little to no understanding of how to either bridge the gap between the two or mend his relationship with either. A forgotten bag on the side of the road pulled him out of his reverie as curiosity got the best of him.
Walking over to it and opening it, he smiled and shouted out to Enid, "Hey, Enid, hold up!"
They were both smiling and laughing at times as they used the roller skates he found. They had to hold onto each other after a few because neither had ever really been on them before. Enid smiled as she wove her fingers through his to keep a hold of his hand as they continued down the road. Carl's small, embarrassed smile made hers grow even more. It was pretty obvious that even though she'd been dating Ron, Carl had no experience with dating. Though, in the back of Carl's mind, the soreness in his chest grew just a little after dulling down in Enid's presence. It didn't take them long at all to reach an area close to the Hilltop that required them to take the roller skates off and put their boots back on. It was just a short trek through the woods around the colony that they had to take, Carl grabbing his knife and moving ahead quickly at the sight of the same large trucks from yesterday being at the Hilltop today. The anger he'd been able to put on the back burner reared to life as a plan began forming in his head. If Negan wasn't here, he would be at the Saviors' compound.
"I don't think Negan's here," he lamented, watching as the older gentleman who made them kneel walked out of the Hilltop. "I don't see that black truck. But I recognize him."
"You weren't taking a drive, were you?" Enid asked. "You weren't coming to get me."
"I never said that. I didn't even know they'd be here. But since they are, I can't let them get away with this," he reasoned, having truly left the walls of Alexandria out of worry for Enid. "You know I can't."
"I know," she said softly, making him turn to her.
"Come with me. You want to kill him too. We can do it."
"Uh-" Enid said before she sighed. "You said it. It'd be for us. Not for Glenn. Not for Maggie," bringing her forehead under his hat and speaking quietly. "You're doing it for you."
"Yeah," Carl nodded.
"If it all goes right," she said while looking up at him, "and you do it, how do you get away?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does to me."
That hit Carl almost as much as Sophia saying she liked him did. He didn't know how to fully take either of what they had said as he leaned his head onto hers. All Carl did know was that he wanted Enid to be safe and Sophia to come home. Taking a chance, he kissed her forehead as they stood there before looking at her as she looked up to him. They shared a short, sweet kiss that had a pit in his stomach form before he pulled away.
"Please don't go," she begged in a whisper. "Just come with me. You can't make it-"
"I'm just gonna go home," he cut her off, feeling rather awkward by the situation he'd put himself in by kissing her.
"You're lying," she accused him.
"No, I'm not."
Enid chuckled before telling him, "You shouldn't go, but I can't stop you."
She began walking away as he said, "They'll see you."
"No," she replied. "They won't."
He watched her walk away before moving through the trees to an area just a little closer to the Saviors. Hearing one talk about something being loaded into the 'Negan truck,' Carl followed with his eye the man carrying a big box as it was loaded into a white box truck. Waiting for the coast to clear, he sprinted as fast as he could towards the truck running and ducking inside it right before someone rounded another corner. He quickly ducked back behind the boxes, pushing a few things this way and that to make himself a relatively well-hidden hole to hide in. It wasn't until the truck started moving and he heard a thump that sounded similar to what his own landing in the truck that he moved.
"Hi," he said, the man who'd introduced himself as Jesus at his house a couple weeks ago giving him an odd look.
"How'd you get in here?"
"Same way as you."
"Why?"
"To find Negan."
"Okay, but why you? You're just a kid," Jesus pointed out.
"So? That doesn't mean I can't try to help. And I want to find Sophia."
"Sophia?"
"My...the very best friend I've ever had and someone I hurt pretty bad," Carl told him, sighing as he spoke.
"And you think she's trying to find where Negan lives?"
"It makes sense," Carl reasoned. "I mean, Negan basically took her parents, so she's probably trying to find them. And then Bobby went missing, so she's probably trying to find him too. And he'd be on Ani's trail."
"Bobby?"
"Did Ani tell you about her kittens?"
"Right! The bobcats, Bobby and Catty. Did she name them herself?" Jesus asked as he poured more stuff on the ground.
"Yeah," Carl said before laughing. "She's not good with names and is pregnant. I hope she doesn't name the baby 'Baby.' Though, Daryl did name my sister Little Ass-Kicker at first."
Jesus laughed with him before they both quieted down. The ride was uneventful until they heard a curse coming from the front. Both hid deep into the goods in the truck, sitting on the floor and not making a sound. Carl eventually fell asleep while sitting up, only waking up when the people in the cab came out and moved to the back to grab some food and drink. The Saviors sat on the tailgate talking about a few things from the Sanctuary and before before heading back to the cab to spend the night. Carl ate some of the food from the truck that Jesus tossed at him and then settled back down for the night, neither wanting to move too much so as not to alert the people in the cab of their presence. He was getting antsy the next morning when the Saviors came back around to the back for more food, commenting on how the herd was still going a while later.
"Looks like the end of them, though," one man said.
"All damn night," they heard another comment. "At least Negan's smart enough not to let that mess anywhere near us."
"Fat Joey's good for somethin', at least."
"What, eating cake?"
"He rigged the herd-way. Just trips. Nothin' fancy. Guerrilla kinda stuff."
"What kind of stuff?"
"As in warfare, idiot. Those demo sticks from that run last month, the RPGs from the new guys. Maybe it takes it down. Takes em out. Alright, it's a trickle. Let's go."
"Finally. Thank Christ."
Carl followed Jesus out from behind the goods at the back of the truck, thankful for being able to move as his muscles felt tight and stiff. He began looking around the goods trying to find anything that would help him when he got to the Sanctuary. His movements paused, however, as he watched Jesus dumping syrup out of the back of the truck. Even though he didn't say anything, he was curious and it showed, which might have been why Jesus explained himself when he looked back to the boy.
"Making a trail. I think we're close." They must have been because the truck started to slow as Jesus told Carl, "We should bail out, follow the rest of the way, see what we can see."
"I, uh...How?" Carl thought, not having ever jumped out of a moving vehicle let alone having the intention to do so.
"It isn't usually the fall that gets us," Jesus carefully explained. "It's trying to fight it. Run with it or roll with it. The truck's going slow enough. We'll be in a blind spot. We can race behind one of the other cars."
"I-I-If—If I screw up and we get caught-"
"It'll be fine," Jesus assured Carl. "We just gotta go now."
"Okay," Carl said quickly. "Show me first."
It wasn't all that surprising when Jesus did actually jump out of the car, watching as Carl just waved to him and went back behind the plastic that covered the truck's back entrance. He managed to find a crate of guns, picking up an automatic and checking the magazine. When he heard Negan's voice as the truck stopped, not only was he mildly shocked and panicked, but his resolve hardened as well. It didn't matter if he died so long as he took Negan out for what he'd done, especially to Ani and Sophia.
"Okay boys, let's get this haul unloaded and inside. I want to get back in there and unload a little myself," he heard the man say as he hid again.
"Negan, need to talk to you about the redirect."
"What about the redirect?"
"It got screwed up," Carl listened to the conversation as he took aim at the door, ready to fire at anyone who came through. "We're on it now, but it's a mess out there."
"And who's job was that?"
"Aw, damn," someone said as they moved the plastic away from the door. "I thought they packed this up tight."
"Ah, no worries," one of the men from last night said. "Plenty more where this came from."
As the men laughed and the man got up into the truck, Carl prepared himself. The man picked up a box only for the bottom to give way, breaking several glasses of liquor and making the man curse in the process. It was when he was looking around at the mess that he noticed Carl and commented. Carl wasted no time firing the weapon in his hand, one man dead in an instant while the second man barely managed to run for cover in time.
Running out of the truck with the gun raised, he shouted at the Saviors, "Stay back! Drop your weapons! I only want Negan. He killed my friend and took others. No one else needs to die."
Negan didn't bother hiding his presence, whistling as he walked through his men, using them as shields, as he looked at Carl, "Damn. You are adorable! Did you pick that gun because you think it looks cool? You totally did, right? Kid, I ain't gonna lie...you scare the shit out of me."
Apparently, that was a silent signal from Negan to his men because they rushed Carl. He managed to mow another Savior down before they had him on the ground and his gun from him. It was that guy, Dwight, the one who'd forced Daryl into the truck, the one who'd shot him, that had him pinned, and Carl tried hard to fight, landing a good, solid punch to the man's jaw. Dwight had Carl's own rifle against his chest almost immediately after, giving him a single warning before Negan intervened.
"Dwight!" he said. "Back off." Carl saw Daryl by the fence that had walkers attached to it as Dwight took his knife from him and Negan walked up smiling and offering a hand. "Is that anyway to treat our new guest?" Carl didn't take the man's hand, looking instead back and forth between him and Daryl, who looked like absolute hell. "Come on, kid. I will show you around. You know, you do the same damn stink-eye as your dad, except it's only half as good 'cause...well, you know, you're missin' an eye," Negan chuckled while pointing to his own. "Really? You're really not gonna take my hand? 'Cause you're lucky you even still have a hand. Same as your boy Daryl over here now that I think about it. How's the job goin', Daryl? Hot enough for you? Yeah, it'd be tough with one arm," Negan chuckled while looking at the man before turning back to Carl, who finally took his hand.
Carl understood the implied threat Negan had made. Either he take the man's help getting up or Daryl would lose a hand. He couldn't help but wonder if that's how he'd gotten Daryl to basically be complacent as it was; using threats against Ani the same way he'd used threats against Daryl. It was what happened in Alexandria all over again. Threats were the name of Negan's game, and Carl had already seen that those threats could quickly turn into promises given the circumstances. The only choice he could make was to take Negan's hand even though he really didn't want to.
"Ah, smart kid," the man said as he hauled Carl to his feet. "Now, come with me. Dwighty-boy, why don't you grab Daryl, take him to the kitchen, do a little grub prep." Turning to the rest of his men, he ordered, "New plan, boys. Let's burn the dead and unload the truck later. Damn, I am not gonna have time to screw any of my wives today," he said before turning to Dwight with a chuckle. "I mean, maybe one. Come on," he told Carl, walking away.
"What are you gonna do to me?" Carl asked, not afraid, just curious now that his plan had failed miserably.
Negan turned back to Carl after rubbing his hand over his face, "Number one, do not shatter my opinion of you. You're a bad ass. You're not scared of shit. Don't be scared of me. It's a disappointment. Number two...you really want me to ruin the surprise? Screw you, kid. Seriously. Screw. You," he told Carl before pushing him towards a set of stairs and up it. Opening the door and letting Carl enter, he closed it behind him and leaned into his ear, "Check this out."
Carl watched as Negan walked over to the railing so that he could look out over the factory floor. Hundreds of people stood there chatting amongst themselves, most looking rather dirty and ratty. He couldn't help but wonder how so many people lived in such a small space nor how well the living conditions were. From the looks of it, they couldn't have been much better than living in the storage units over winter had been. In shock, he watched as they all stopped talking and knelt down as Negan stood above them, reminding him of the movies he used to watch where everyone had to bow to royalty. Even if it was impressive, Carl couldn't say he liked it or thought it was something good as he watched some elderly folks have a hard time getting down to their knees.
"The Saviors have gone out into the world," Negan called out to everyone, "and fought the dead and come back with some really good stuff. Some of that stuff can be yours if you work hard and play by the rules," he said, looking over to Carl as if to make a point before back out at his people. "Today, everybody gets fresh vegetables at dinner. No points needed." A murmur of applause with no real energy behind it rang out as Negan turned around, "You see that? Respect. Cool, huh? They still on their knees?" he asked Carl quietly before calling out behind him, "As you were!"
Carl stood, watching the people stand back up and go back to work. He wasn't entirely sure if what he saw was respect or not, but one thing was for sure. If Negan had this many workers and soldiers at his base, he had more than they could fight when combined with the outposts. He wasn't in the best of moods when Negan called for him, making him follow the man into a nicer looking room closer to the top of the factory. There were several women in the room doing various tasks, all in black dresses of some kind or another and all quite attractive.
"Ladies," Negan told them, all of them becoming much more self-aware as the man took off his ascot. "Oh, don't mind the kid. I know," he told Carl quietly, leaning closer to him. "Every woman from where you're from dresses like they do the books at an auto shop. Except for Ani, and she dresses like she works in the shop. You're gonna wanna look at their titties," he said, causing Carl to look at him like he was crazy. "It's cool. I won't mind. They won't mind. Knock yourself out." Carl looked down as Negan said, "Can I talk to you a moment, dear wife? Make yourself comfortable kid."
He left Carl standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by women who were all busy minding their own business. It almost felt like the atmosphere in the room was restricted, like they weren't there out of love for Negan at all. He watched as a taller woman with long hair walked over to a mini bar with Negan. The two stood their chatting amongst themselves for a bit as Carl observed the rest of the woman. One was adamantly reading her book, another two was sitting together playing a game near the window. Still another just sat and watched everything unfold while another was sat on a chair looking on the verge of tears. Carl remained standing there until Negan came back over and forced a beer into his hand before going and talking to the wife that looked like she was about to cry. It only got worse the longer he talked to her until she told him she loved him and he asked her why she was crying. From what Carl could tell, Negan did the same thing to the woman that he'd been talking to as he did to everyone else; threaten the people who the woman loved in order to get her compliance.
Negan looked over at Carl before kissing the woman on the forehead in a seemingly loving fashion before walking up to the tall woman still at the bar, "Will you go get Carson for me? Wasn't that hard on her, even though I am...very hard in general."
"You're an asshole," the woman told him.
"I know," Negan responded with pride. "But the messed-up thing is, you like me anyway. You know the truth," he told her, saying something Carl couldn't hear before the two shared a kiss.
When Negan held up his finger towards the door to indicate giving him a moment, Carl noticed the movement as someone came into the room. He was shocked when he saw Daryl walk in, his shirt being held onto by Dwight, a tray of food in his hand. They stared at each other, Daryl in concern and Carl in shock, as Negan finished with his wife. Daryl quickly looked back to Negan with a dirty look on his face as Carl wondered just what they'd done to the man to have him acting like a servant. The tray of food in his hands looked nice enough, but the man himself was even more ragged than he had been yesterday. Even as Negan moved over to him and stared at the man with a smirk as he ate, Daryl didn't say a word, simply staring right back with a grim expression painted on his face.
"Carl, will you grab this tray for me?" Negan asked, Daryl turning towards Carl as he set the beer Negan had given him down and grabbed the tray all while they looked at each other and Carl gave him a slight nod of his head.
"Why you got him here?" Daryl asked, prompting Negan to be, or at least look, offended.
"Whoa!" he told Daryl. "What we talk about when you're not here...is none of your business." The man looked back at the wife he'd kissed before threatening Daryl and Carl at the same time, "Do not make me put this toothpick through the only eye he has. You go with Dwight. He'll get you a mop. Dwighty-boy, fire up that furnace. I'll be down in a few. Time for a little deja vu. Come on, kid," he said turning to Carl before walking through Dwight and Daryl.
Carl didn't have much choice but to follow, realizing that his compliance was what was going to keep Daryl and Ani safe while he was there. He was lead into a luxurious room that was both masculine and cleaner than anywhere else in the whole building that he had seen. If the sitting room the women had been in was elegant, this room was posh. The king size, four post bed was made, which surprised Carl since he didn't even make his bed, with gray bedding while black stands and end tables held various elegant looking lamps. A coffee table sat between a black leather couch and a couple very nice, gray chairs that faced each other on the other side of the room while books, knickknacks and other various objects lined the stylish shelving unit on the back wall.
Negan threw his ascot on his bed as he walked in, closing the door behind Carl as he followed him, curiosity killing the proverbial cat for the boy as he asked, "So all those women are actually your...?"
"Wives? Yeah," Negan smiled. "Always wanted to screw a whole bunch of different women. I mean, why settle for just one? Why follow the same old rules? Why not make life better? Speaking of, sit," the man said, motioning to one of the chairs as he sat on the couch. "Let's get started."
"Started on what?" Carl asked, as he placed the tray on the glass coffee table and sat down in the chair.
"I want to get to know you a little better, Carl."
"Why?"
"Work it out. You're smart. In fact, I'm gonna tell you just how smart you are in case you don't already know," Negan said quite smugly, a smirk firmly planted on his face. "See, I'd expect a kid your age to be moping around, not doin' a damn thing except cryin' about missin' the prom. But you? You go on a mission. You find me. You kill two of my men. You're smart enough to know that I'm not gonna let this slide," he said before chuckling and rubbing his eye. "Ah, I can't—I can't do it. It's like talkin' to a birthday present. You gotta take that crap off your face. I wanna see what Grandma got me," he told Carl excitedly.
Carl was rightfully offended as he couldn't even handle looking at himself in a mirror anymore without the bandage and firmly said, "No."
"Two men!" Negan bellowed before slowly continuing. "Two...men. Punishment. Do you really want to piss me off?" When Carl just sat there staring at Negan, the man said, "Do not make me take it out on Ani."
Closing his eye and sighing, Carl resigned himself to his fate. He'd brought this upon himself with his half-cocked plan to kill Negan and now he had to pay up. He knew as soon as he was caught that he was going to have to pay the consequences, and if showing his injury would compensate, he'd do what he had to. Ani and Daryl were both bargaining chips in Negan's hand, and even as a thirteen, almost fourteen year old, Carl knew he didn't have a choice but to comply. Taking his hat off, he slowly unwound the bandage that held the piece of cloth in place over his eye.
Negan watched the entire process with a look of joy and excitement in his eye, chuckling and commenting, "Almost there." When Carl finally had the bandage off, he told him, "Get that hair out of your face. Let me see." Carl was already on the verge of tears when he pushed his bangs back and exposed the socket that was right eye. "Christ!" Negan shouted. "That is disgusting! No wonder you cover that up! Have you seen it? I mean, have you looked in the mirror? That is gross as hell! I can see your socket. I want to touch it," Negan said, sounding like a little kid as Carl began breaking down. "Oh, come on. Can I touch it?" Carl's face must have told Negan he'd taken it too far as the man sighed and said, "Damn. Holy hell, kid. Look. I just—It's easy to forget that your just a kid. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything. I," Negan sighed as he watched Carl, honestly feeling bad for pushing the kid so far. "I—I was just screwin' around."
"Just forget it," Carl quietly told him quickly, feeling like an object and understanding a little of what Ani had explained about it now.
He was nothing more than amusement for Negan. Nothing more than a cruel joke. The loss of his eye had devastated him and the nasty scar on his face was a constant reminder that he was less than what he had been. Negan throwing that in his face, saying outright how disgusting it is? It made him feel like he was less than human. Like he was some kind of animal in a zoo to be pointed and laughed at simply for the sake of another's amusement.
A knock on the door sounded as Negan looked at the boy, prompting him to sigh before saying, "Come in!"
"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but, uh..." an overweight man said as he entered the room, "you left Lucille out by the truck."
"Seriously?" Negan asked, shock ringing clear in his voice. "I never do that. I guess a kid firing a machine gun is a little bit of a distraction. All jokes aside," he said to Carl, "you look rad as hell. I wouldn't cover that shit up. It may not be a hit with the ladies, but I swear to you, no one is going to screw with you lookin' like that. No sir!" He turned back to the fat man and asked, "Fat Joseph, did you carry her all the way up here for me?"
"Yes, sir," the man answered with a smile, handing the bat over.
"Were you gentle? Were you kind?" he asked him, causing him to stutter. "Did you treat her like a lady?"
"Mm, yes. Yes, sir," the man awkwardly replied.
"Did you pet her little pussy like a lady?" he asked, making both other males in the room look anywhere at him in discomfort before he chuckled. "I'm just screwin' around man. A baseball bat doesn't have a pussy!" The fat man chuckled for a moment before Negan told him, "Get the hell out." Turning back to Carl as the man quickly left the room, he said with a smile, "See? That's what I'm talkin' about. Men breakin' each others balls. This is the shit your dad is supposed to be teaching you."
Carl stared at him for a moment before looking down and thinking about what he'd said. No one at home acted like that except Merle, and Merle had never once brought up his eye. In all honesty, Merle had been rather uncouth in his words regarding certain body parts on both men and women, but never once had talked like Negan had towards Fat Joseph. If that was Negan's idea of men breaking each others balls, he didn't want to know what he thought comprised real friendship if Merle was anything to go on. To be Merle's friend, people still had to put up with lots of swearing, some racist remarks, and a little bit of sexism and misogyny. And even then, as the man took more and more roles in the community, everything but the swearing had really died down unless he was pissed off. Carl couldn't understand how Negan thought making fun of someone was okay, especially after everything he'd learned from the group.
Negan sighed after a moment of silence and asked, "What do you like to do for fun? You like music?" Carl didn't answer Negan, prompting him to lean closer and say, "I want you to sing me a song."
"What?"
"Yeah," Negan said with a sneer. "You mowed down two of my men with a machine gun. I want something in return for that. Sing me a song."
"I...I can't think of any," Carl said, none coming to mind past just basic nursery rhymes.
"Bullshit!" Negan told him. "What'd your mom used to sing you? What'd your dad play in the car?" Negan stood up and pointed his bat at Carl and snarled, "Start. Singing."
As he moved further away from Carl, the boy began singing 'You Are My Sunshine,' pausing for a moment only to be encourage by Negan. Carl hadn't been able to think of anything else to sing with the bat shoved in his face. It only got worse as Negan told him to ignore the fact that he was practicing swinging the bat only a couple feet away as he was forced to finish singing the song. His hands were shaking and his voice wavered as he jumped with every downward swing of the bat Negan made until Carl finished the song and Negan walked back over to stand in front of him.
"That's pretty good," Negan commented. "Lucille loves bein' sung to. It's about the only thing she loves more than bashing in brains. Weird, huh?" he asked before sitting on the coffee table in front of Carl, the tray off food forgotten in the center. "Did your mother sing that to you? Where is she now?" Carl sniffled and shook his head to which Negan responded, "Damn. Dead, huh?" He inhaled and looked down before asking, "Did you see it?"
"I shot her," Carl told him quietly, the image of the day Judith was born still burning a hole in his mind almost a year later. "Before it could..."
"Damn, no wonder you're a little serial killer in the making," Negan said with awe, a soft smile playing on his face. "That was an example of breaking balls, by the way. Come on, kid. Get up. It should be ready, and we got somewhere to be."
"What should be ready?" Carl asked.
"The iron."
Rather long author note here:
So, I got a rather rude comment from someone attempting to say that Ani acts more like she has Multiple Personality Disorder rather than like she has ADHD and Autism. It wasn't even constructive criticism, just outright saying it was more like MPS when doing just a bit of research would have shown that, if anything else, it would be Borderline Personality Disorder, not Multiple. Multiple Personality Disorder is having two or more distinctly individual personalities occupying the same mental space that may or may not even know about the existence of each other. Ani definitely does not have anything like that. I'll give the BPD due to problems with emotion, empathy, and sympathy, but even then, it would be a giant stretch considering she IS empathetic and sympathetic, just has problems understanding emotions. The reason I am posting this is because I have had to deal with this shit my entire life and, as y'all can tell, I am extremely defensive when it comes to anyone who tries to say that people are different than what they've been diagnosed. It's extremely offensive to people like me when someone who is not a professional dealing with our case says, "Oh, it's not that, it's this, even though it's completely different and no where near what that is." Or, like that individual did, "It's more like you have this instead of what you say you have." Ani isn't anything other than what I've stated she is, and her mannerisms and behaviors are based on MY OWN EXPERIENCE as an autistic and ADHD individual. Saying SHE is something else is saying I'M something else. Ask questions about it or comment that you don't understand it, but do not try to say that Ani, or anyone else with a diagnosed ND or mental health disorder, is something else. If you do ask questions, I will answer. If you don't understand, I will explain. If you've read this far into the story, you know that I've explained the experience and the reason why she is the way she is in the story itself as far as how it presents in her a couple times now. This is part of the reason I put an Autistic and ADHD individual as my OC, because people need to learn more about us as more and more individuals are diagnosed as one or the other, or both. I am not intentionally trying to be rude here. I apologize if this little rant has turned you off of the story or has been offensive to you. I simply needed to stand up for myself as far as what that individual wrote. If it hasn't, I hope you continue to enjoy my story and haven't had too many problems as far as how I've written my OC just yet. Thank you for those who are still reading. I truly appreciate you.