"Careful, Carl. Take it easy."
Recovery is moving slowly.
It has now been three and a half days since Carl was shot; a day and a half since he woke up. Carl is not one to lay down and sulk in his injuries, however, and has already been attempting to walk on his own... which leads me to my current predicament. We're both still staying at Denise's house, on her own instruction, until she deems Carl healthy enough to go home. I think that's what provoked him to try this, but so far nothing good has come of it. The two of us are in the middle of the room, which Carl has just attempted to cross, but the offset in his balance, created by his brain injury, nearly caused him to topple over. Thankfully, my reflexes are sharp, and I moved to catch him before he could fall and seriously injure himself further. I can see the frustration painted across Carl's face. He doesn't have to say it. I know what he's thinking.
Carl Grimes is not a victim, and he certainly doesn't like acting like one.
I patiently wait for him to gather his thoughts and strength, supporting his weight with my own body to prevent gravity from pulling him down to the ground. Gritting his teeth, Carl slowly lifts himself back into a standing position. I rise with him, slipping my arm under his to support him completely. Even like this, I can feel him teetering back and forth. His balance has taken a horrible hit from this. I can safely say that I've never seen Carl this upset and he's been very upset many times since I first met him.
"Come on." I urge him gently. "You need to rest."
"I want to go home." Carl asserts, casting me a sideways glance that could have killed everything in its path. "Don't you want to be back in our own bed?"
I have to give him that one.
But you know you can't let him. Not until he's better.
Yeah, I know.
I give him a sympathetic look. He's gotten this look enough since he's been awake to know what it means. Huffing in frustration, but bowing his head in defeat, Carl - with my aid - begins to make his way back towards his bed. Carl plops down on the side of the bed with a heavy thud and immediately sinks down in depression. I take a seat next to him and affectionately drape my arm across his shoulders. I have to give it to him, he certainly won't go down easily. If I were in his condition, it would be a miracle to get me out of bed.
"You know, I didn't think it was possible, but you've gotten more hard-headed lately." I jest with him, trying to lighten the mood.
I am rewarded for my efforts.
Even though I can see Carl visibly fighting to stop himself, he cannot contain the slight smirk that curls along the edges of his mouth. Its not a full-fledged smile, but I'll take what I can get. I'd kill to see Carl smile right now. I haven't seen him smile in days, certainly not since he had woken up from his coma. His smirk quickly vanishes, as if he remembers he's still in a pretty sticky predicament. Our time alone is suddenly interrupted as the door to Carl's room swings open and in walks Denise, Rick, and Michonne. I'd half expected to see Daryl here, since he had visited the night prior, or even Carol, but neither of them were present. The lack of Judith indicates to me that she is with Carol again. Rick looks tense and a quick glance at Michonne tells me something is up.
Something... not right.
"Everything okay?" I direct more at Michonne than Rick, even though it is Rick who responds.
"I have some news."
The depth of seriousness in Rick's voice causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. With those four words, Rick has my heart suddenly racing in my chest. What's happened? Has someone else been hurt? Killed? Has there been another attack? I haven't heard any gunshots, but it could have happened to scouts, or during a run. Carl picks up on the thick tension pervading the room and immediately perks up beside me.
"What is it, Dad?"
"Rick!" Michonne hisses behind him. "Is here really the best place?"
Rick Grimes hesitates for a moment.
Michonne isn't helping with my anxiety, though I can agree with her. If whatever he is about to tell us is stressful in anyway, it could jeopardize Carl's health during a time where he is making the slow climb to improvement. Rick's brawny hands go to his hips and he lets out a loud huff of frustration. Whatever is bugging the elder Grimes, I wish he'd just spit it out. I'm not good with suspense.
"You're right." Rick admits to her in a softer tone. "Tanner, can I speak to you? Outside?"
Well, that really doesn't sit well with Carl.
"You're gonna leave me out of it?!" the younger Grimes snarls.
"Carl, you need to focus on getting better." his father argues. "It'll only be a moment."
Tension in the room is rising faster by the moment.
Any argument between the two Grimes men is likely to make the situation much worse than it has to be. The two don't argue as often as they used to, but when they do, it can get pretty heated. Rick and Carl are both staring each other down like hawks setting sight on their prey, leaving Michonne and I glancing between each other, wondering what to do. If it comes right down to it, we'll use the same game plan we always used over the past several years. Michonne will take Rick, I'll take Carl, and we'll defuse them separately. Its not always easy, but the plan has never failed us.
"What is it Rick?" I chime in, softly, trying to defuse a possible meltdown. "Just tell us."
Its too late to leave Carl out of it anyways.
He knows something is up now.
Rick seems to realize this, glancing back at Michonne, who merely offers a shrug.
"Ezekiel came back today." he announces after another heavy sigh. "They captured one of the Saviors."
My heart skips a beat.
They what?!
Ezekiel actually captured one of them?! If that is true, then this is good news rather than bad. However, something is still off. Neither Rick nor Michonne seem exactly pleased with this development. At first, I find this strange. Capturing an enemy is a good thing. They can be interrogated for information, used as bait, or even as a bartering chip if Negan was ever put in a pinch. So why? Why be so gloomy about it? Furthermore, why did Rick want to pull me aside to talk about it? The last time we'd talked about the Saviors, Rick had wanted me to stay out of the fighting as well. It can't just be Carl that was holding them back to begin with. Then it dawns on me.
Carl is the reason, because...
"The one who shot Carl?" the words escape my mouth at the same time that I'm processing them.
Whatever argument Carl planned to continue with his father is shot to hell now. His own disbelief is plainly painted across his face.
"How are you sure?" I continue, dumbfounded. "You didn't see him get shot."
"He admitted to it." Michonne chimes in. "And he asked to speak to you."
The blood in my veins freezes.
"To me?" I repeat in disbelief.
That explains why Rick wanted to talk about this in private...
"He mentioned you by name." Rick confirms with a nod.
"Did you happen to catch his?"
"Yeah," the older man replies. "Dwight."
####
Carl hadn't been too on board with this plan.
For one, I haven't left his side since he woke up, other than to get us both food. Part of me thinks that, even though he'll never admit it due to his own stubborn pride, he doesn't like me leaving him; despite the fact that Michonne was going to stay behind with him. Secondly, confronting his own shooter also seemed to be a big part of his argument. Of course, I also suspect he doesn't want me in harms way, but I had assured him that everything would be okay. Those thoughts aside, I turn my focus to Dwight. I've only met the man once, during my captivity with Negan. Though it could have just been deception, Dwight didn't seem to be like the rest of the Saviors. At least, that's what I had thought. Now that I know he's the one responsible for nearly taking Carl from me, my ears are searing against the cold wind, as anger takes its firm grip on me.
I'd given up revenge on Carl's shooter.
I had figured that, even if I'd had a chance at the Saviors, they'd never tell me who shot him. I hadn't expected the shooter to turn themselves in. Now, as we march towards the church, where Dwight is being held, I can only become angrier and angrier with each step. Rick has agreed to accompany me over to the church. According to him, Dwight is refusing to speak to anyone except for me, so I really don't have a choice in the matter either way. I can tell its bothering Rick that I'm having to speak to the Savior. Whether its from trying to shelter me from a dangerous enemy, or prevent me from killing him in retribution, I can't tell. At this point, it could really be both.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Rick asks me as we approach the church.
"I'm not." I admit truthfully. I have to grit my teeth to contain my caustic anger. "But I have to."
We reach the door.
"I'll be right out here." Rick informs me. "If you feel threatened, just yell and I'll come running.
I nod my response to him.
In all these years I've been his son-in-law, Rick has really stepped up to the fatherly role left vacant by the absence of my own father. His words of caution just now were only the latest example of that. Even if I don't always say it, I'm really thankful to him for that. With a nod of his own, Rick pries open the door to the church, and I step in unaccompanied.
It doesn't take me long to spot Dwight. Rick is not one to take chances. The Savior is thoroughly tied down to a chair near the altar. His hands, legs, torso, everything that could be tied down, is tied down. I suppose after the last attack Alexandria suffered under the Saviors, Rick decided that he'd make sure this one couldn't escape and wreak similar havoc on our community. Dwight's severely scarred face perks up upon hearing my approaching footsteps. He seems somewhat disoriented, but eventually he looks all the way up and his gaze finally meets mine. The grin he gives upon seeing me is nothing short of sadistic. I'm not intimidated. Face-to-face with me is Carl's attacker. Just the sight of his already-mutilated face was making me sick. Now having to think that this man almost tore my new family apart is not improving my mentality.
"You actually came."
The sound of his voice causes my stomach to twist involuntarily. I can feel my face contort in anger and rage. I can't stand the sight of him, much less his voice. I purposely hang back. I know that if I get any closer to him, Rick is going to have to come in here and prevent me from killing him. I shove my hands into my pockets and focus a cold gaze on Dwight before engaging him.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick your fucking skull in right now."
He wasn't expecting that.
I wasn't nearly this venomous the last time we met.
"Hello to you too." he retorts sarcastically.
Unfortunately for him, I'm in no mood for humor. For a moment, my restraints completely come loose, and I cross the room with feverish speed. I wait just long enough until I'm within striking range, and then lash out. I feel my fist connect to his face, hard enough to cause his head to fly backwards. It doesn't take long for blood to start trickling into his lap and onto the floor. Enough that I can excuse the small throb in my knuckles.
He deserved that.
I should hit him again, but I force myself back under control. I don't want Rick to interfere before I can see what the bastard wants me for.
"I suppose that means they told you about my little confession." Dwight continues, wincing in pain, even as blood continues to trickling down his face.
"I'd like to hear it again." I snarl. "From you. So that when you're dead, I'm sure I got the right guy."
"Enough." Dwight's voice suddenly hardens. "I didn't come here to play a game of 'who's got the biggest cock'. I get it. I'm probably the second to last person you wanted to see, especially after what happened with your little boyfriend."
My already cold stare grows colder.
"Then why ask for me?"
"Because I may have had a change of heart, and because, whether you like it or not," his voice rises with inflection. "You and I are alike. We both have spouses in turmoil over this thing. You are the only one who can understand me."
"Understand you?"
The amount of rage surging through me is enough to make my voice quiver. Dwight must have picked up on this, because he cocks his head at an odd angle, like a dog upon hearing a high-pitched noise. How dare he assume I'd understand him? After what he's done, he just expects to waltz in here and claim he's on my side?! I consider myself a forgiving person. Not with this though. Not with him. I won't let him off that easily. There is simply no chance in hell for that.
"Let me shoot her eye out." I start in. "Make you watch as she almost bleeds out in your arms, while you desperately try to find help. Make you listen to her cry out in pain while someone other than you tries to save her life. Then watch for two days while she wastes away in some fucking coma and you're not sure if she's going to live or die, or something even worse. And then, when she finally wakes up, have her tell you how useless she feels. Watch as she falls apart in front of you." I'm having to try hard not to scream at him. And it is hard. Oh so hard. "You let me do that to you, and then ask me to understand you."
I think I've made my point.
I don't think Dwight quite expected that either.
"Negan has my wife." his voice is barely a whisper. "If I don't do what he says, he'll kill her."
"So you tried to kill Carl instead?!"
"Negan wanted him dead." Dwight snaps. "For that stunt you pulled at the factory. Shooting Lucile. He thought... He thought if someone killed off your boyfriend, it'd teach you a lesson."
"He's not my boyfriend. He's my husband." I correct him harshly. "And his name is Carl. Fuckin' remember that."
Once again, my heart is torn. Every time I think of what this man has done to Carl, I want to pick up the nearest chair and use it to beat the living shit out of him. Even so, a small voice in my head makes me wonder what I'd do under the same circumstances. If Carl was being held by someone who treated him as their own spouse, rather than mine, had sex with him rather than let he and I be together, and threatened his life if I didn't do everything I was told, would I not go to the same lengths to ensure his safety? Frustrated, I turn on my heel and face the opposite wall. I can't look at him anymore. The conflict in my heart is bad enough as it is without having to look upon him.
"Hearing your words..." Dwight continues in my silence. "Back at the factory. Seeing how you two reunited. It made me remember what having someone to love was like. I just want to save my wife. End Negan's tyranny. I can tell you his secrets, his weaknesses... I'll bring you his head on a silver platter if I have to!"
Silence ensues.
I let it.
"Let's get one thing straight." I finally say. "I don't trust you. I certainly don't understand you. Because of you and your people, two of my friends have died, and I nearly lost the person I love more than anything in this world. Rick will decide if what you have to say is worth listening to and ultimately your fate. But... know this... These people, they're not like your band of criminals. These people are my family. If you hurt them ever again, I will kill you."
I try not to give him a chance to respond, bolting straight for the door.
I want out.
I'm unsuccessful, however, because he manages to respond before I hit the door:
"When Negan's dead, it won't matter if you trust me or not." Dwight calls after me. "Because the nightmare will finally be over."
Stopping for nothing, my hand connects with the church door and I step out into the sunlight.
####
Night again.
The moon is full this night. Unabated by clouds, it shines brilliantly against the black night sky, revealing the cosmos to the entire world. Its a spectacular sight, even from the window I'm viewing it from. Behind me, Carl is finishing up his dinner, though I can feel him watching me very carefully. As soon as we were alone, earlier, I had told him all about my meeting with Dwight. After that, though, I have been very quiet, even for me, ever since. Once again, I haven't really eaten much of my own dinner, which he had originally protested, but had stopped when he saw I was clearly not in the mood to argue about such a trivial matter. I hear him clear his throat, preparing to speak; probably to break up the tension in the room.
"Denise says I can go home tomorrow." he announces.
I feel a small weight on my heart lift, even though I don't really show it.
"That's great, Carl." I reply, turning to him. "You'll be much more comfortable there."
I feel bad.
My thoughts are on something else, so I don't celebrate as much as I should to the news that he's getting to come home. The truth is, I'm elated. I can't wait to have him home again. To sleep in our own bed again. As I have said may times in the past, though, Carl is very perceptive. After hearing my explanation earlier, he must have picked up on something and therefore knew what was truly troubling me.
"Tanner, I know you'd do the right thing." he says out of nowhere.
I shoot him a puzzled look.
"If someone ever had me captive, I know you wouldn't turn into a monster." he clarifies. "You're too good a person."
Head on the nail, Carl. As always.
"I'd still go out of my way to save you." I confess to him, my voice betraying a slight tremble. "You've gotta know that."
I don't know who I'm trying to convince harder: him or myself.
From the pleading nature of my voice, I'm going to go with the second option. I know he's right. I couldn't stomach doing what Dwight has done, even under the same circumstances. No matter how much I tell myself I would do those things, I know I wouldn't. Carl wouldn't ever want me to turn into something that monstrous, no matter what the situation was. I think that alone would keep me from doing so. That doesn't mean I wouldn't fight like my life depended on it to protect him. To find some way to save him. I just wouldn't...
...I definitely wouldn't...
...Turn into that monster.
Would I...?
I'm jolted from my thoughts when I feel Carl's skinny arms wrap around my waist from behind me. Did he walk over to me on his own? Glancing back, I can see that Carl had somehow stumbled from his bed and then collapsed into me to prevent himself from falling. It does seem like his balance is starting to improve, though. I feel his chin on my shoulder, head lean against mine as he joins me in staring out the dust-speckled window at the spectacular cosmos sprawled out above us. Its unusual for him to hold me. Not that I mind it one bit. I like having him wrapped around me for a change. I melt back into him, taking in his aroma, the softness of his hair against my cheek. His hot breath against my cold skin brings goosebumps to the surface and gives me a slight shiver. For the first time since he woke up, he finally smiles genuinely.
Not just a smirk or a grin.
An actual smile.
Its nice.
"I know." he finally replies after sometime. "Of course I know."
"The fighting will start soon." I continue. "With Ezekiel back and Dwight captured, its only a matter of time."
At that, Carl physically tenses.
"We'll be ready for them."
I sigh a chuckle, "I suppose I can't convince you to take a back seat for this fight?"
Carl smirks, "No chance in hell. I'm fighting beside you, Tanner."
"I figured you'd say something like that." I reply. "C'mon..."
I surprise him, reaching down to place my hands in the bend of his legs, which allows me to pick him up for a piggyback. My intention is to take him to bed where the two of us can finally get some decent sleep. Carl's initial surprise makes this difficult at first, but he soon relaxes, allowing me to lightly carry him across the floor towards the bed.
"The last time you gave me a piggyback was when we met." he reminds me as we continue our approach.
I allow myself to think back to that day.
Walkers surrounding the stranger boy, whom I'd soon learn was Carl. Slashing viciously through the undead to keep him from getting bitten. He'd hit his head, so I'd had to carry him out of those woods, much the same way that I am carrying him towards our bed for the night at this precise moment. Its a fond memory of the day I learned the name of the person whose name I'd never get tired of hearing or saying. Whose last name I'd end up taking for my own. Funny how I'd walked up to him thinking I'd just be helping a kid out. Little did I know, back then, that I'd tie the knot with that same boy years later.
I smile at the memory as I drop him gently down to the bed.
Carl promptly scoots over and I climb in next to him, pulling the thick blankets over the top of both of us, before settling into our favorite sleeping position. Nuzzling him gently, I'm compelled to verbally remind him of his meaning to me, as I so often do:
"I really love you, Carl." I murmur softly to him.
"And I love you." he responds sleepily.
I take in the sight of the moon one final time before shutting my eyes.
My last thoughts, before sleep hits me, is of Dwight and Negan. I know the battle is coming. I know people are going to die. It'll be a horrific day that adds on to the horror that this apocalypse has already been. My only hope, as I drift off into my dreams, is that when it is all over, Carl and I can find some happiness afterwards, put it behind us, and live as normal of a life as possible. In order to do that, I know Dwight is right about one thing, and one thing only...
Negan has to perish.
He cannot be allowed to harm anyone ever again.
And if I get my way?
He never will.
A/N: This chapter was a little more tense, no? Dwight has reappeared and, from this point further, will become much more significant just like I promised. With the next chapter, the tension and action will begin to pick up once again! How will Carl fight in what's to come with his handicap? Will Rick accept anything Dwight has to say? And, last but not least, what other news did Ezekiel bring from his scouting mission? All this and more are coming up. The main focus of this chapter was Tanner's development. He's a bit colder in this chapter, isn't he? I really liked that. It really just goes to show how much Tyreese and Tara dying, as well as Carl nearly dying, has weighed on him. Now, how will this carry into the impending confrontation with Negan? Only time will tell! I hope you all really enjoyed this chapter. It is one of my favorites, so far, with this story for sure! Make sure to review and favorite! I look forward to hearing everyone's thoughts on this :)
On to the reviews!
IamwhoIam987: Thank you! :) I'm glad you thought it was sweet. They definitely needed a sweet moment together after all of that, or at least, I thought so hahaha Writing this story is the only thing keeping me sane during my wait for Season 5. I simply cannot wait! Thanks for your review! :) Hope this chapter was enjoyable for you.
Guest: I was asked this in This Cruel Reality, and I didn't have an answer then. I made up Tanner's appearance in my head, so I never modeled him off an actor. That being said, I finally found an actor that greatly resembles how I imagine Tanner to look, and I found him while watching Jurassic Park (yes, you read that right) a few weeks ago. His name is Trevor Morgan, and he played Eric Kirby in Jurassic Park III so unless you've seen that movie, you may not have ever heard of him. He was 13-14 in that movie, so if you age him up to 17, that's pretty close to what Tanner looked like in my head for This Cruel Reality. Age him up to 21 and you'd be pretty close to how I see Tanner in this story. Again, its not exact, since I created Tanner in my head, rather than basing him off of an actor, but he's as close as you get to how I imagine him. Good question :) Thank you.
Hope you guys enjoyed and thank you for your comments, questions, and reviews!
Keep 'em coming! I love hearing from you all!
See you all with the next one!
Later!