Disclaimer: This story is Rated M for a reason other than the obvious gore, murder, and zombies. If consensual sexual content of any kind makes you squeamish, turn back now. Otherwise, you're good to go. You were warned.
I haven't seen the sun since Paul first arrived outside our gates days ago.
Even so, that doesn't stop Carl and I from enjoying our last day, back in Alexandria, outside.
Our supply run team is planning on making a run for weapons and ammunition tomorrow. All of this business with the Hilltop and the Saviors has Rick on edge and, even though the safe zone has a multitude of weapons and even more ammunition, he isn't taking any chances. While he and the rest of the team come up with a solid plan for tomorrow, I decide to spend my day with Carl. As if I'd ever choose anyone else to spend my day with. Once Judith is safely with Carol, the two of us head out to the local basketball courts. The courts were an addition to the safe zone that came with one of the recent wall expansions earlier in the year. During the late afternoon-evening time, the kids from the safe zone often play here while their parents mingle or work. However, its morning, the kids are home and the courts belong to Carl and I alone. When they were first added, it was me who mentioned to Carl that we should come here from time-to-time. Back during our time on the road three years ago, Carl and I had played basketball once with one another while on our way to Terminus.
We'd never had a chance to settle our score from then.
While I'd mentioned this place as a joke, referring to that occasion, Carl liked the idea, so this has become our little hangout spot ever since. And, I might add, Carl has become a lot better at shooting hoops than he was when I first taught him how all those years ago. The silence of the vacant lot is filled only by the sounds of the two of us dribbling the ball hard against the concrete, all the while trying to steal it away from each other in an attempt to score on the other's goal. Our games have evolved over the months we've been coming here, from simply playing Pig, which is the first game I taught him, to playing one-on-one basketball between the two of us. Even though neither of us is particularly fond of sports, it is very relaxing to take a day away from all the stress and hardships outside the walls of the safe zone and just play a simple game together.
Carl swiftly feigns right, catching me slightly by surprise; enough so to allow him to snatch the ball right out of my grasp, much to my protest. I attempt to chase him down the court as he sprints towards my goal, however, Carl is, as always, much faster than I am and he quickly gets a solid lead on me. Carl reaches the end of his sprint, launches himself into the air, and makes the shot. That's another thing he's improved at. Shooting goals. This shot hits the rim, the ball spiraling along the outside several times before finally dipping into the net and swishing through. He catches the ball as it falls out towards the ground, even as I come to a grinding halt; placing my hands on my knees in order to allow myself a moment to recuperate my breath.
"Ready to call it quits yet?" Carl jests, grinning at me.
"Fuck you." I chuckle. "You're getting too good at this."
"I had a good teacher." he retorts, taking the moment to wipe the sweat that has accumulated on his brow away.
"Apparently not good enough." I argue. "I haven't beaten you the last three times we've come here."
"I'm too quick." he gloats, tossing the ball towards me for the next round.
A ball I easily catch.
I may be tired, but my reflexes are sharp as ever.
We continue our game like that for another hour and a half. I actually manage to score a few on him before it is all said and done, but, regardless, he wins. I highly doubt he'll ever let me hear the end of it. This makes four times in a row. Either he's just that good, or I'm starting to slack big time. We both take our time catching our breath, chatting idly as we do. The sky is getting darker again. I wouldn't be surprised if it rained again during our run tomorrow. It'd suck, but we've dealt with much worse. Eventually, the wind begins to pick up, sending waves of coolness cascading over the both of our sweating forms. It is sweet relief from the heat and soreness gripping my body.
As I feel my stamina starting to return to me, I notice Carl glancing at me out from under his sheriff's hat, which he had only just put back on his head. His eyes are slightly glazed over, telling me something is on his mind. What, though, I haven't the slightest clue. I flash him my best smile. Its nice. Just the two of us. No one else around. No walkers. No drama. No killing. With the shortage of supplies, the runs, and the recent development with Hilltop, Carl and I have barely gotten anytime to just be together without any craziness, save the few fleeting moments we've been alone at night. I often catch myself missing the days, back before we were married, when we would sneak off together to do all kinds of crazy things together. That was when we were still on the road.
About that time, I begin to realize that, not only is Carl staring at me, but my eyes have latched onto his and I'm staring straight back at him. He's drenched in sweat from a combination of the heavy humidity and the game we'd just finished, panting ever so slightly as he slowly begins to regain his breath. I take in every delicious detail. The way the tiny beads of sweat roll across the pale skin of his cheek down to the edge of his mandible where it hangs for an instant and then, as gravity seizes it, drops to the concrete below. More noticeable, however, is his eyes. Carl's eyes are almost always intense regardless of which emotion he's experiencing. Happiness, sadness, anger, aggression, or submission, Carl's eyes are a powerful indicator of what is going on in his head and in his heart. At the moment, they're almost predatory; focused completely on me, with a slight edge of aggressiveness to them. If anyone else were to look at him right now, they may be a bit taken back or frightened. Carl's expression doesn't exactly look friendly, but I've seen this look hundreds of times over the years. I know what he's thinking.
Carl seems to catch on to the fact that I know what's going through his head.
He usually does.
I don't wait for him to act on it first, though.
Closing the relatively short distance between us slowly, yet purposefully, I press him gently up against the chain link fence he's resting against, lowering my head the short few inches that still separate our faces, leaning just underneath the hem of his hat, before planting a soft kiss on his moist lips. It was only intended to be a short one. Something merely meant to show him that I appreciate his presence. However, something changes almost instantly; almost as though a light switch has been switched on. I can't pinpoint what exactly elicits this reaction. It could be his breath lightly caressing my skin, or the way his soft pools of azure are watching me ever so studiously. Perhaps its the taste of his lips on my own. Or maybe it was the small splotch of freckles painted across his nose, and his shaggy brown hair, both of which I find incredibly attractive. Whatever the reason, however, I abruptly push him harder into the fencing, my hands finding his his hips even as my lips push harder down onto his. Carl lets all of this wash over him. His arms come up around my neck, hands pressing into the back of my head, even as he offers his best performance in return.
That's how it remains, at first.
No heat. No electricity. Just affection and gentle touching. That too changes quickly and Carl is the one who initiates it. He surprises me when his kissing becomes more frantic. Suddenly, he is taking my lower lip between his teeth and gently nibbling there before pressing back into our kiss. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, I feel his tongue snake along the entrance to my mouth. I'd been waiting for him to do that. In the back of my mind, I must admit that I wanted him to. I readjust, slanting my mouth over his, then granting him entrance. His mouth is hot. Moist. The moment his tongue touches mine, a jolt of electricity travels down my spine before branching outward to every nerve ending in my body. My entire being suddenly feels as though its trembling in his grasp. Funny how after three years, he can still kiss me and provoke this kind of response. As if that isn't driving me crazy enough, I'm suddenly very keenly aware of his aroma. We'd showered together again this morning, as usual, and Carl had used the same shampoo he always has. Even so, I'm suddenly very much aware of the aroma. The smell of a soft breeze with hits of raspberry fills my nostrils and my body starts going through all sorts of feelings in response to that. The most prominent being a warm sensation, like warm water, spreading from my stomach outward.
At that point, what started out as just an appreciative peck on the lips has rapidly evolved into a moment of pure passion.
His tongue dances with mine.
Mine with his.
At some point, my right hand comes up off of his hip, finding his own right hand which I promptly grasp, raising it up to head level, where I pin it to the fence with the rest of him; carefully entwining our fingers together. I don't even take notice of just how wrapped up and intense we're becoming with this until I suddenly and forcefully push him harder into the fence, causing his hat to lose its grip on his head and fall off to the side. We both notice this and quickly come apart, sucking in deep breaths as we do. As he bends down to retrieve his fallen hat, I'm not prevented from observing the effect our kiss has had on him. For one, his lips are swollen. Gorged from the feast he just partook in. But perhaps more noticeable, at least to me, are his eyes. Once sparkling with a blue as deep as the ocean, Carl's eyes have been replaced by two pitch black saucers. Like two black holes that I could fall endlessly in. He's not done with me yet, nor am I with him.
"Tanner." he says, his voice slightly raspy. "Can we go home?"
I don't argue.
Hell, I don't even both responding with words.
The most I can manage is a short, frantic nod and then we're both bolting for the house.
Its not a very large distance from our present location and we arrive only a minute or two later. Carl practically breaks the door open, waiting for me to follow him inside before slamming it shut behind us. He wastes no time double checking to make sure we're both alone and, upon confirming that we are, leading the way across the house to where our small little bedroom sits. Once we're safely behind the door to our room, I immediately reach out for him. My reach is clumsy, almost desperate, seizing fistfuls of his shirt in order to pull him into me. As soon as his lips are back on mine, my hands find his back and, starting just below the nape of his neck, I gently rub his back all the way down. He likes when I do that, further evidenced by what I can only describe as a purr that escapes from his lips. This kiss is much shorter and when I finally let my lips slip off of his, I lean in and rest my forehead against his own. His brow is moist with sweat, the hair covering it starting to stick together.
"How is it," I suddenly speak up, my breath coming in short, uncontrollable gasps. "That we've been right beside each other these past few days and I still miss you like crazy?"
A smirk touches the edges of his mouth.
"There's been a lot going on." he replies astutely. "We just haven't had much time for each other."
Now its my turn to smirk, "Well, I'm gonna have to fix that."
Carl leans up and gently pecks the corner of my mouth.
"No one's stopping you." he replies, almost in a whisper.
Its subtle, but he was clearly goading me with that one. It works. All at once, my hands are on him. The first thing I toss aside is his hat. Then I'm clawing at his shirt as if the last possible meal I'll ever have is just beneath it. I'm a little too frantic, however, and, in my pursuit to deflower him, I accidentally knock him backwards, causing him to land flat on his butt with a loud thud on the floor beneath me. To a normal person, I suppose, that'd probably be a mood killer. It is certainly embarrassing for me, and I can feel the heat touching my cheeks.
"Sorry..." I grumble in embarrassment.
Carl, however, seems to find it erotically amusing and grins widely now as he reaches up, seizing the hem of my own shirt, to yank me down on top of him. So that's how we end up in the floor, my hands on either side of his head, mouth latched on to the soft, sensitive skin just beneath his chin as it curves down into his neck. Carl is incredibly sweaty from the combination of our earlier game of basketball and the actions in which we are now partaking, but I don't mind. The salty taste to his skin is even more erotic than I would've thought it to be. I hungry lick a stripe down his throat, stooping just above his collar bone, where I latch on to his skin and suck the blood to the surface, leaving a very distinctive hickey in its place. As I make my way back up his neck, Carl chuckles slightly. That chuckle quickly turns into a giggle and his hand comes up to playfully smack the side of my face, causing me to grin in the process.
"Tanner, that tickles!" he complains through his giggles. "Stop it."
"That was the point." I mumble into his skin, resuming my ministrations on his neck.
I finish joking around with him and finally devote myself to my original intention. Pleasuring him. My hands runs over the smooth skin of his chest, sliding all the way up to his shoulders where they turn around and slip back down his arms. All the while, Carl begins to squirm, trying to get his hands up and around my neck where they were previously. I use the opportunity to seize his wrists and almost violently jerk them up, pinning them above his head. This sudden action and forceful halting of his activities brings his attention completely to me, along with those completely black spheres of passion.
"Relax, Carl." I demand of him. "Let me do the work."
His arm muscles, which were once tense from fighting back at me, suddenly relax as Carl gives himself over to me. Now he's all mine. I immediately turn my attention to the two circular nodules on either side of his broad, pale chest. Over the years, I've discovered that Carl particularly likes it when I pay attention to these, so I lean down and take the left one into my mouth. A labored gasp escapes his lips as I do, forcing me to smirk. I love it when I'm able to drive him as crazy as he often drives me. I take my time with his nipple, rolling it between my teeth gently and then encircling it with my tongue, just like he likes it. Before I know it, Carl is shuddering uncontrollably beneath me. His body is experiencing so many sensations at the same time that he seems to be unable to control his own body any longer.
Its sexy.
Releasing his arms, I drag my fingers gently across the skin of his torso, causing him to shiver, all the while bringing goosebumps to the surface of pasty flesh. By this point, his back is arching and I'm having trouble determining if he's doing that intentionally or not. Whatever the case, I finally stop teasing him, curling my fingers into the waistband of his athletic shorts, which now have a distinctive bulge at their center, and make quick work of removing them from around his hips and long legs. His boxers are next to go and suddenly, I have a very exposed, very naked Carl Grimes beneath me. Oh God, have I needed this. The poor results on the run the other day had already stressed me to the max. Then there was the killing in Hilltop. The announcement that we'd be fighting a group of crazed psychopaths. All of it had been weighing heavily on me, and, I could tell, on Carl too. Seeing him lying beneath me, however, cheeks rosy from all the physical exertion he's been through to day, hair sticking together due to all the sweat that has accumulated between the two of us, and pupils blown with arousal, all of that stress and anxiety slowly begins to melt away. I suddenly become very aware of my own condition. I'd worked up such a frenzy that the collar of my shirt is ringed in dark sweat stains, my own hair, hanging off of my forehead, is damp and messy, and I'm panting for dear oxygen as if my life depended on it.
Only Carl has this effect on me.
No one else turns me on like he does.
No one else can make my chest swell with love like he can.
I've never much bought into the theory that everyone has someone out there that is made specifically for them, but I don't think I could love someone else as much as I love Carl. Adore someone else as much as I adore him. That's just my lot in life. If its not him, then no one else will work for me. I suppose I've known that for awhile. I've just never managed to admit it to myself before now. Before I know it, Carl is lifting my shirt up over my head, tossing it carelessly off to the side. He then moves down to my belt, which he slowly, meticulously unbuckles, all while maintaining a very erotic level of eye contact with me. Once it is sufficiently loosened, he makes quick work of the button in my jeans, swiftly unzipping the zipper in the process. While he's doing this, he does this cute thing where he bites his lower lip with the top row of his teeth. He knows I immensely enjoy when he does that and he knows how to milk my reaction for every second. But then his attention is back on his work and he is soon pushing away my own jeans and boxers, finally meaning that we're both completely bare before the other. In the three years we've been together, this moment has lost the nervousness that we once felt being completely naked in front of the other, even though it still bears the excitement.
My heart is pounding furiously in my chest and I can tell that Carl's is doing the same. I can hear the light thumping of his just beneath me.
Suddenly, his hands come up taking my face, a cheek in each hand, between them. His skin is scalding hot to the touch and I imagine mine is generating a similar sensation to him. He then sweetly sweeps a lock of hair out of my eyes and smiles at me.
"Love you." he declares proudly.
My heart melts and I fall against him, skin-on-skin, mouth-on-mouth.
Its a short, but no less intense kiss, that is only made more intense by the fact that our entire bodies are rubbing together; generating glorious friction between them as they do.
"I love you too." I mumble softly to him.
With that said, I resolve myself to finishing the deed. I reach down between his legs and take him in my hand. He instinctively bites his lower lip and arches his back in response. I gently fist his tender spot, eliciting several gasps from the back of his throat, before he reaches up towards mine and begins doing the same. The heat of his hand is made even more exquisite because of where it is. We take our time stroking each other, bringing each other to the ideal level of arousement before proceeding further. Its me who initiates it. Slipping my hands onto either side of him, I flip him over on his stomach. He knows what I'm after and spreads himself to grant me access. Intending to lube and loosen him up at the same time, I lower myself so that my head is level with his mounds, using my hands to spread him further, before dipping in and pressing my tongue lightly against his rosy entrance. Carl lets out an audible hiss and I can't resist smiling slightly as I then set to work. His skin is even saltier from sweat here, and I can once again smell the soap he used this morning, mixing with the natural aroma of the heat passing between us now. The smell is nothing short of mesmerizing. When I'm sure he's finally ready, I pull myself up above him once more, planting one hand on the other side of his head, while I use the other to help me line myself up.
Once in place, I wordless seek his permission and approval.
I know he won't refuse me and, in fact, would probably prefer me to go ahead and start, but I respect the fact that this is Carl's body and he'll tell me when he's ready or not.
On cue, he rapidly nods to me, mimicking my own eagerness from earlier, and I don't keep him waiting; pushing into him with one fluid movement. The sensation is absolute rapture. Hot, moist, tightness wraps around me and Carl squeezes down on me for added effect. I lean down over him until my forehead is lightly resting on his shoulder, giving him the necessary time to adjust. Once he's ready, his legs come up, resting the balls of his feet against my own bare mounds as a sign to me that I can proceed. The next several minutes is fully of frantic movements. The entire moment is a blur to me. A blur filled with only fragments of memories.
My fingers twisting through Carl's hair.
His hands reaching back behind him to grip fistfuls of my own.
The sweet gasps and moans that escape his mouth, and the answering gasp and moans that escape from mine.
Our hands finding each other along the carpeted flooring, fingers quickly threading together.
His pulse is frantic, his hand rough and sweaty, but I hold him there. Hold his precious hand in mine. He's got quite a grip which is only matched by my equally forceful grip against his.
All of this leads up to that climatic moment when I happen to strike the bundle of nerves buried deep within him, causing his entire body to spasm in orgasmic rapture. Even as he does, he clenches down on me, throwing me into my orgasm. I come first, involuntarily releasing a shrill of pleasure from as my body rocks against his. It takes me a moment, but when I finally come off of my orgasmic high and turn my attention to helping Carl reach his own. We're both panting frantically, but somehow I manage to lift myself off of him and help him flip back over on his back.
"Your turn." I inform him even as I bend down to take him into my mouth.
By this point, Carl is very sensitive to the touch. Therefore, when I take him in my hand and gently press my lips to his most intimate area, he involuntarily jolts slightly, bringing a slight grin to my lips. My eyes slowly drift up, meeting his, which deepens the scarlet blush spreading across his cheeks. I make sure to hold his eye contact as I slowly stick my tongue out and lick a stripe from base to head, eliciting a full and violent body shiver from Carl. I relish the taste of his salty, rigid skin on my tongue, before breaking his eye contact and taking him all the way inside of my mouth. For the second time that day, Carl's fingers tangle in my hair, and he holds onto me tightly. There is a slight sting as he pulls on my hair even as I continue to work him closer and closer to his climax, but it is a good sting. A welcome sting. A sting that tells me I'm doing my part right. My wrist twists, working the lower portion of him, even as my mouth works the upper portion. At that point, Carl's body goes into autopilot and within moments, his body rocks violently with the sensation orgasm, the only warning I receive before he coats the back of my throat with several jets of milky saltiness, nearly causing me to gag then and there.
And then, at once, his entire body relaxes.
When it is all said and done, I wipe any of the residual fluid from my lips and climb back on top of him and we both collapse into a hot, sweaty pile of limbs there on our floor; not even bothering to get up and crawl into our bed, which is only a few feet away from us. It takes me a good ten minutes to regain my breath and even then my muscles are still screaming from the exertion. Even so, I manage to roll off the top of Carl, allowing him a little space to catch his own breath and lower his body temperature. Glancing over at him, I thoroughly admire my work. Carl's hair, which was only partially sticking together before, is now a wild frenzy of locks and strands, some stuck together with sweat, others sticking out in all different directions. His entire face is painted scarlet, his eyes closed as his body continues to process all that its just experienced.
I'm proud of myself.
Only I can do that to him.
No one else but me.
After awhile, we finally do get up and make our way to the bed, where we collapse in exhaustion and curl up in one another's arms. Right where he belongs... Right where I belong.
"We should go pick up Judy." he says after sometime.
I shake my head, pushing several matted strands of hair out of his face before responding, "Let your dad get her. I want you to stay here with me."
His gaze softens.
"It'd be the responsible thing to do." he chides me. "We are home after all."
"Please?" I plead with him, suddenly sounding like a three year old begging for a new toy.
He regards me fully now, searching my expression for a moment before sighing in surrender.
"Alright." he says, letting a smile touch his lips. "You win."
I smile fully back at him, pulling him in closer to me before throwing our blanket over us.
"Damn straight I win."
####
The next day, the supply run team assembles before the gates of Alexandria at the crack of dawn.
I'm still, after all these years, not a morning person. Not even with the past year of supply runs. Mornings just aren't my thing. This morning, on the other hand, is quite different. Carl and I are in quite the pleasant mood when we arrive, and who could honestly blame us after the day we had yesterday? Everyone is already here. Daryl, Glenn, Heath, Michonne, and several of the others. To my surprise, Sasha and Tyreese are among the team. They usually cast their lot with the wall team, but its still pleasant to see them present.
"You two coming along with us?" I inquire of Sasha.
"Yeah." she replies simply with a smile. "Abraham's taking over the wall operations today. Tyreese and I thought it'd be a good idea to get out and get some fresh air."
Sound logic.
I'm happy to have them along anyways. Sasha is always a particularly lively individual and I enjoy being around her. Just the same, Tyreese is a man I've come to respect. Our conversation is cut short by Rick, who approaches from our flank. There is nothing unusual about Rick coming out to see us off. He's done so everytime we've left since Carl and I joined up with the team, but today he has a purpose. Today isn't an ordinary supply run. Thanks to the Hilltop, we have plenty of food and other necessities. This run is strictly for weapons. War is brewing and Rick wants to be quick to gather up what supplies we need to hold our own in the coming conflict.
"You all know what we're after right?" he inquires of the group assembled before him.
"Weapons, ammo, and anything else we can grab." Michonne chimes in.
"Right." Rick replies. "Try to keep it on the down low too. We don't want to attract any unwanted attention."
He briefly glances towards Carl and I, giving us a once over, before returning his attention to Daryl.
"How long do you think you'll be gone?"
"Maybe a day?" Daryl replies, slipping his crossbow over his shoulder. "We won't need to go as far out this time."
Rick nods and pats him on the shoulder.
He then turns his attention completely to Carl, whom he wraps in a strong embrace. The typical send off between the Grimes men.
"Be careful out there." Rick tells his son.
"I will, Dad." Carl replies. "I always am."
Rick nods again, then flashes me a look, "You too." he says with a smirk. "Don't be out there causin' any trouble."
"Because that's totally something I'd do, Rick." I retort sarcastically, flashing him a wicked grin.
A little humor always lightens Rick's mood before we head out. I'm certain it doesn't actually help in the long run, but if it keeps his mind at ease for the moment, then that is all that matters. Off to the side, Glenn says goodbye to Maggie, per the norm. Carol has even come out with Judith to see Daryl off. Carl and I are the only couple that actually goes out on these things together, though I'm quickly getting the sense that may not be the case for long. Maggie has been hinting for months that she wants to join up. With our goodbyes out of the way, we pile in our vehicles, Carl and I loading up in our familiar van from the previous run. Unlike last time, however, Michonne makes a last minute switch and leaps into the back seat of our vehicle.
"Hope I'm not butting in on anything." she jokes as she swings the door shut and proceeds to make herself comfortable.
"You're not going with Glenn?" Carl asks.
"He wants to drive this time." Michonne explains. "No offense to Glenn, but his driving is an eventual death sentence. I'll take my chances with you two."
I laugh out loud at Michonne's jab and shake my head as I switch the ignition on.
Its going to be a long day, but at least its gotten off on the right foot.
####
A spray of crimson body fluid.
Walkers are going down one after the other as our team presses further into the suburbs surrounding Washington D.C. There seems to be fewer of them than I remember being here the last time we were around the city. That can be both a good thing and a bad thing. If walkers are beginning to thin out in some areas, that can easily mean that they are herding in others, which, eventually, can become a pretty massive threat. For now, however, its a blessing that allows us to do our job quickly and painlessly. Evening is fast approaching and while we've managed to gather a significant amount of ammunition, finding any left over weapons is proving to be quite the task. I'm standing watch outside off small guns and knives shop Carl had stumbled across, while he rummages around inside. I don't have to wait long, however, as he soon emerges from the shattered glass door empty handed.
"Nothing." he snorts in annoyance.
"Wrap it up!" I suddenly hear Daryl shout to the group. "We're losin' sunlight. We'll do another sweep in the mornin' before we start heading back."
At least our day wasn't a total loss.
Ammunition was better than nothing. After all, we do have weapons back at the safe zone that can use them, and while the extra weapons would be nice, its the ammunition we need the most. Carl and I trundle our way back to the vehicles, meeting up with Tyreese and Sasha along the way. The scene is just like any other run we've ever been on. Those members of the group who have found something worth using brings their spoils to Daryl, who makes record of what we've collected, and then stashes it into Glenn's vehicle for transport back home. Once everyone is accounted for, Glenn hands out watch shifts for the night, followed by Daryl handing out everyone's nightly rations, and by then, night is setting over the East Coast. Carl and I, naturally, get the luck of the draw for first watch tonight. Not that we particularly mind. Neither of us is really tired and it'll give us a chance to talk. Once everyone is safely tucked away in their vehicle for the night, Carl decides to make a lap around the perimeter and clear it of any straggling walkers.
"So, what do you think your dad's game plan will be?" I inquire of him as we make our rounds.
"No clue." he replies. "We don't even know where these thugs are holed up. Doubt we can make a move on them until then."
I consider the information we know about these "Saviors" before asking my next question:
"Think Paul knows?"
Carl stops walking temporarily, staring out at the star-filled night sky as he ponders my inquisition.
"If he does," he eventually responds. "He'll tell Dad. Don't quote me yet, but that Paul guy... he seems alright."
This brings a smirk to my face.
Carl isn't one to trust that many people, but those that make a good impression on him usually get on his good side pretty quickly. At the same time, I'm personally happy he's come to that conclusion. After our little impromptu talk with Paul the other day at the Hilltop, I had gotten a very similar vibe from the bearded man. He didn't seem to be a threat and it is very unlikely that he would protect these Saviors from Rick, especially since he seemed to be just as terrified of them as the rest of his community.
"I agree with you." I say with a nod. "He seems to be decent enough."
"And what about me?" a sudden alien voice from behind us startles me. "Do I seem decent enough too?"
I whirl around to identify the source of the voice, instinctively reaching for the hilt of my sword in the process, but its far too late. As I turn, I see a very tall man, wearing a leather biker's outfit holding a gun right at the back of Carl's head. The man's most distinguishing feature, however, was the fact that the entire left portion of his face is completely burned, the flesh long having scabbed over and scarred.
"Drop it, bucko." the man barks, referring to my sword.
I grit my teeth.
With a gun to Carl's head, there is little he can't get me to do, so I comply, slowly removing my hand from the base of my weapon.
"There you go." the biker man chuckles maliciously.
I glance frantically at Carl, who is frozen in fear of the barreled weapon pressing into the back of his skull. Whoever this man was, he was sneaky. Neither of us had heard a single movement. Seen anything out of place. The result was that he was able to take us both completely by surprise. But just who is he? What does he want with us? I'd never seen this man before in my life, so it isn't possible that he has some sort of vendetta against us, does it? The man keeps his gun trained on Carl's head, while proceeding to glance back at some unforeseen force in the shadows. A chilling grin curls across the man's scarred face.
"Go on then!" he demands at the shadows. "Call Negan."
There's that name again.
Negan.
At once, my mind connects the dots and comes to a very gruesome and terrifying revelation.
Oh no... Oh, no, no, no, no, no...
I know who these men are.
My thoughts, as well as the ensuing silence, are shattered by a gunshot from the nearby alley. Its then that I see just who it is the man has been talking to. There are dozens of men around us, all emerging from the shadows of the nearby shrubbery and buildings. The gunshot has done more than draw the man's allies. To our left, the doors to our various vehicles swing open as Daryl and the others clamber out to investigate and immediately take notice of Carl and I's plight. They, on the other hand, are actually able to draw their weapons and point them at our captors, though, at this point, our camp is pretty much surrounded and we're vastly outnumbered. Daryl seems to immediately realize this. Just a quick headcount reveals at least twenty to twenty-five men, all brandishing an assortment of weapons, though not all are firearms. Suddenly, however, the crowd of thugs part and a particularly thick man, with tanned skin, and short black hair arranged in a widow's peak emerges from the pack; a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire slung over his shoulder.
He stands out from the rest, carrying a very authoritative air about him.
"Ho ho ho," the man with the bat chuckles in mock amusement. "What the fuck do we have here?"
To my horror, he approaches Carl and brandishes his bat, running the tip of one of the barbs wrapped around it down Carl's pale neck ever so lightly. Carl grits his teeth, his eyes bearing a mixture of hatred and intense fear all at once. Regardless, with two deadly weapons aimed at him, there is little more he can do but hold his breath and pray they don't attack. My own reflexes are on edge. In an instant I'm ready to move and defend him. I likely won't get far, but I'll be damned if I don't try. Without realizing it, I involuntarily his and tense when the larger man touches Carl. Its an action the man picks up on easily.
"Calm down there, cubscout." he admonishes me. "I'm not going to kill him... yet."
Carl snarls at this.
My pulse picks up.
You're not going to kill him at all... Not if I can help it!
"Shitting your pants yet, sheriff?" the man goads Carl with a sinister smirk.
"Let 'em go!" Daryl suddenly jumps in, barking from somewhere behind us.
This causes the man to look up, his smirk widening as he apparently spots Daryl among our group behind me. Everything about this man is throwing off bad vibes and he radiates danger and evil.
"Is he the boss?" the man directs towards the lackey who is still holding his gun to Carl's head.
"No, sir, Negan." the thug replies. "The boss is some guy named Rick."
Negan.
So that is him.
He is every bit as terrifying as Paul said he was.
"Tsk," Negan feigns disappointment. "Guess we'll just have to get our shits and giggles out of this lot, then. Gotta send this Rick fella a message, you see? You can't go fucking with our deals with other communities. Its bad for business, you know? Plus, its bad manners to go sticking your nose in other people's feuds. Just not cool."
"What should we do with them, sir?" the scarred thug inquires of Negan.
Negan's grin becomes even more malicious, "Line them up." he commands. "We'll play a little game with them."
A/N: Gotta love how a chapter can go from one extreme to the next, eh? xD That smut scene at the beginning is probably going to be the only one for a very, very, very long time, so I hope I did it right hahaha Unlike the prequel, this sequel focuses more on the developing relationship of Carl and Tanner and how this new threat stresses it and makes it stronger, so the smut is less plot-relevant than in the last story, but I felt it was a necessary step to take in this chapter, so I included it. But the bombshell of this chapter is undoubtedly Negan's reveal. What kind of "game" does he have planned for our captured group of heroes? Doesn't sound too good, but you'll have to wait until next time to find out! I hope this was an enjoyable chapter! On to the reviews!
Youngblooded: I am! Good to see you again too! :D Hope you stick around and enjoy this one!
Kayden Pause: Yes, both are possibly right. The next chapter will officially set the tone for the story, so most of your questions should be answered in it. As for the "why" the Saviors have named themselves the way they have, I actually have an explanation for that I'm going to elaborate on in a future chapter, so stay tuned for that. It may or may not be what you're expecting! Thanks for the review!
Well guys, this one was a bit longer than the last, but I hope it was enjoyable!
Until the next one!
Later!