Chapter 23

"Nice weapon of choice," Negan told Daryl, pointing to the shovel in his hand. "You must've known exactly where it was to grab it and get halfway down the road as fast as you did."

Daryl refused to respond and kept a tight hold on the shovel. He had pinpointed several tools as people geared up to take on the walkers and he made sure to keep his options open. Anything could happen at any moment, and seeing as he was weaponless, Daryl made sure to be prepared to use whatever he could.

"Personally, I would've picked something more lethal, but when your choices are limited…," Negan raised his eyebrows in a mocking smile. He took a step forward. "You saw how easy it was. How quickly it can happen. I pushed that walking sack of sludge right to her. Shit, I practically spoon-fed her to the damn thing."

Negan laughed and twirled Lucille once, the air pushing against Daryl as she went by. He wanted to take a step back, but more than that, he wanted to turn his back on Negan, find Everly and run until his legs gave out. Instead, he kept still.

"Now, I bet you had a lot of thoughts running through your mind. How quickly can I get to her? Can she hold it off until I can get there? Would it be worth it to go after Negan instead…?"

Negan wasn't far off point. Daryl had fully intended on killing him if Everly had been overcome by the walker. Negan had watched, smiling so insouciantly, as Daryl yanked a shovel out of a vehicle and hauled ass down the road. It was when he was halfway to her that Negan intervened, taking the walker down easily and then comforting Everly after. It wasn't hard to see what he was doing.

"What's your point?" Daryl replied gruffly. He was tired of hearing Negan's voice and the shovel was starting to feel heavy in his hands. Just one swing, that's all it would take….

Negan held out his arms and turned to his left and right, surveying his men dragging rotten bodies off the road.

"This," he stated matter-of-factly. "This is what it's all about, Daryl. We've made it this far but everyone has an expiration date; even you, even me, even her. Fuck, all the people you and I killed the past few months made it pretty damn far, but where are they now?"

The sounds of labored breathing and corpses being dragged along the asphalt seemed to amplify.

"We're all just running on pure luck, and the way I see it, it's starting to get pretty damn low. All that's left after that luck runs out are the people who have your back. I had her back. I was there for her, and I saved her fucking life. I have a pretty strong feeling she won't take that for granted… But where were you?" Negan held out his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "If it weren't for me, Daryl, she'd be dead. I suggest you take some time to think about that. She's going to."

Negan patted him on the shoulder and started to head up the road to the trucks, but he stopped abruptly, his hand still on Daryl. He leaned in to whisper in his ear. Daryl kept his face forward as he spoke to him. He stared at the pulverized walker as it was dragged into a ditch, chunks slipping off of its smashed in head and littering the road. He thought of Abraham and Glenn.

"Also," Negan said, squeezing down on Daryl's shoulder, "if you tell her what I did, I'll know."

It was a threat, against him or Everly, he didn't know. Daryl could feel Negan smiling. It was like a turned on light bulb with how obvious it was. He let Daryl go with one last hard pat and walked off with his Saviors following behind. All Daryl could see was red.

They made it back to the Sanctuary without anymore hiccups, pulling in at a much later time than anyone has anticipated. As soon as the vehicles came to a stop, everyone began to lumber out, tired and irritable, to unpack their haul. It was a decent sized haul; four vehicles almost packed full. Alexandria had held up their end of the deal and then some which was no fault of their own. Negan just made certain to take a little bit more each time. They didn't know, however, that they brought back a bit more than food, clothes, and medicine.

"Theodore, Everly, help me out over here with this stuff," Freddy told them.

He made his way to the back driver's side of the pickup and pulled at the tarp straps to loosen them with Theodore on the other. Everly stopped by the tailgate, ready to grab whatever she could. She was tired of being around everyone and wanted some solitude, downtime; some time to think. It had been a long day and it was barely halfway over.

The strap sprung free for both men and they pulled the tarp back to reveal the bed of the truck and everything inside. It wasn't until he was already up, shouting and the machete was arching through the air that they realized their mistake.

"AAH!" Carl yelled as he jumped up and sliced at the air. The machete caught the side of Freddy's face, opening it up and sending a deluge of hot blood to wash down his cheek and neck.

Freddy hunched over, moaning in pain and holding the open wound as blood poured through his shaking fingers. Theodore had lurched back, his hands up and fear in his eyes, and Everly took a few steps back, too. She also felt fear, but it wasn't for herself. It was for Carl.

"Carl!" She yelled disbelievingly.

Daryl watched on a few feet away, eyeballing everyone around the truck. He slowly grabbed for the nearest tool, a crowbar. It wasn't much, but it would do enough if he needed to use it. Don't do anything any stupider than you already have, Carl, he thought.

"Nobody move!" Carl commanded. "I'm only here for Negan and my friends! No one else has to get hurt!"

Daryl let out silent sigh and hid the crowbar behind his leg.

"Ho-lee shit! Am I actually seeing what I think I'm seeing?" Negan asked as he made his way around the truck, his eyes on Carl. "This day just will not quit! Kid, you are fucking adorable."

Suddenly, a Savior rushed forward and attempted to wrestle Carl out of the truck, but he was too quick for him. He leapt back, swinging the machete wildly through the air, and the Savior fell on his back, blood squirting out of his neck. Everyone took this as permission to raise their guns and aim at the boy.

"No! Don't! Don't shoot! He's just a kid!" Everly screamed, holding her hands out to everyone.

"Yes, listen to the lady! Don't shoot the kid!" Negan mocked. "He only just maimed Freddy here and sliced Hobo Jim's neck from one fucking ear to the next!"

"Negan, please," Everly begged and held a hand up to him. "Let me handle this."

"Right, I'll let the hysterical woman calm the future serial killer. Oh, wait," Negan looked back to Carl, a speculative look in his eyes, "looks to me like you've already gotten started."

Everyone looked down at the dying Savior whose gurgled breaths could be faintly heard. The blood pumped out of his neck at a rapidly slowing rate, his eyes glassy and unfocused as his fingers twitched at his neck. Finally, he stilled.

"That was an accident," Carl said, a trace of remorse in his voice and the machete in his hand lowered a bit. His eye still burned bright, however.

"Sure it was, kid. Sure," Negan nodded his head.

"I only want to kill you!" Carl screamed at him and pointed the machete in Negan's direction. "Give me my friends back and I'll make it quick."

"Hot damn!" Negan laughed. "Kid, I ain't gonna lie, you scare the shit out of me."

He regarded Daryl and Everly, very amused with the situation. Everly's heart was thumping in her throat, and the minutes seemed to tick by way too slowly. She was thinking of the best way to get Carl out this situation that didn't involve his death.

"Oh, don't worry, darlin'. I ain't gonna kill the little stowaway just yet," Negan walked over to her and hugged her against him with one arm. He turned back to Carl. "Actually, how about we have a look around the place your old pals call home? See what they do day in and day out."

Carl didn't respond at first. He shifted his weight around, moving in a rocking motion, and his muscles tensed as he examined the dangerous people in front of him. His grip on the machete was starting to get slippery.

"Take your arm off of her and let us walk out of here. No one else has to get hurt," Carl said, refusing Negan's offer.

"Kid, no one does have to get hurt but someone will if you don't drop the bullshit karate kid act and get down from the truck," Negan responded, the amusement starting to drain from his voice a bit.

"Carl," Everly reasoned, "put the knife away. I can take you back home. It'll be okay."

"Yeah, put the knife down," Negan chuckled and let her go. "Everyone, lower your guns. Ain't no reason to waste the bullets. Come on, kid, let's go take a walk. You and me."

Carl huffed out a breath through his nose and dropped his arm holding the machete. Everly inhaled deeply and walked up to the truck as Carl jumped down. She grabbed his arm as he straightened up, putting her hand around his that held the weapon.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She whispered angrily at him. "Do you want to get killed?"

Behind the anger, Carl saw how worried and exhausted she looked, and he realized suddenly how reckless he'd been. He was only trying to help, do something good for the people he cared about while also satisfying a part of him that wanted revenge. He now knew what a mistake that had been.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't think things through. I just acted."

"That seems to be the M.O. of you Alexandrians, doesn't it?" Negan remarked as he came up behind Everly. "Act first, ask all the important fucking questions later. You'd think your dumbasses would learn by now."

Carl started to raise the machete again, but Everly's hand pressed it down. After a slight hesitation, he let her take it from him, and she threw it back in the bed of the truck. She kept her body in front of his as she turned to face Negan.

"I'll take care of this. Dwight and Arat can come with us if you'd like. Or anyone else you'd trust."

"No," Negan denied. "No one's leaving the compound tonight. We've got some important things happening later that I want everyone to be present to see, especially the three of you."

He looked to his right over at Daryl and noticed the crowbar in his hand. He chuckled to himself and backed away from the pair in front of him. He threw out his hands.

"Fuck you, kid," he pointed to Carl. "Seriously. Fuck. You."

Negan held his gloved hand out to him, a warm smile dimpling his cheeks. He would've looked charming if he wasn't so evidently demented and dangerous, and Carl's eye was wary on him.

Everly looked back at Carl over her shoulder and her eyes met his. She didn't look one bit happy about the current situation, and something in his mind told him that he didn't have much of a choice in what happened now. The guilt was a fresh wave that washed over him, and he looked back at Negan to take his open hand.

"Atta boy," Negan smiled, shaking his hand and leading him away.

"So, how old were you when all this shit started? Eleven? Twelve?" Negan asked Carl as they strolled through the compound.

"Something like that," he responded.

Negan wanted to smack him upside the head. His stubbornness was admirable but it was also damn frustrating. The kid was all talk with a machete in his hand but without it now he had nothing to say. Every question Negan had asked him had been short and vague. He needed to throw the little asshole off guard.

"If that's the case, then you've probably never seen a pair of tits in real life, huh?" He said and looked at him out of his peripherals.

Carl's face went red in the blink of an eye, no pun intended, and Negan laughed to himself.

"That must've been frustrating," Negan sympathized. "Going through puberty right as the world ends. Puberty is almost like the end of the world in and of itself; all those hormones and confusing body changes. The angst and perpetual no-one-understands-me thoughts running through your head. I can't help but wonder how that's affected you, for better or worse."

Carl was quiet, and while his face was still red, he didn't make eye contact with Negan anymore. Instead, he kept his head down and let his long hair cover his face.

"It's okay, kid. It's a part of your life now. It's who you are, just like your missing eye. Own it. Don't be ashamed of the fact and no one will see it as your weakness," Negan paused to look down at him thoughtfully. "Let me show you something I think you might appreciate."

Negan led him up to the very top of the compound; a whole thirty stories or more, Carl thought. He didn't exactly keep track, but he felt exhausted and his legs burned with the endless climbing. He recognized how soft Alexandria had made him, and once again, he felt way in over his head. What had he been thinking, sneaking into the back of their truck? He'd had better moments, but he also had the thought that he'd rather be here than back home right now.

Negan stopped at a set of black double doors, turning to face Carl with an excited gleam in his eyes. He smiled down at him, sort of how a loving uncle would, and held up the suspense of the moment with silence. He leaned down a little bit, getting close to Carl so he could talk softly to him and not be overheard.

"You wanna know the best part about being the head honcho of this whole thing?"

Carl thought about it for a minute before coming up with a response.

"Being an asshole with no consequences?"

"No, but it's a close second. It's the women, you shit," Negan said with a wink and opened the doors behind him.

Inside, Carl saw what he meant. Six beautiful women occupied the room, all wonderfully dressed and well-kept. He looked at each one from head to toe, and wondered who exactly they were. Then he figured it out.

"Are all of these…?" He started to ask, but couldn't finish the thought. He felt abashed.

"My wives? Yep," Negan finished for him proudly. "It's okay, kid. Take a good long look. Look at their tits, even. They won't mind."

"Uh," Carl voiced, not sure what to do or say. This was entirely alien to him and he felt like a vulture just standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, it's a bit of a shock, but you know what? I figured, fuck it. It's the end of the world and my marriage fell apart even before that. Why be stuck with one woman when I can have as many as I want?"

Carl looked around again and started to grow concerned. He understood what kind of person Negan was, but he wasn't sure he wanted to dive head first into the rabbit hole. He hadn't prepared himself for that quite yet.

"I know how it looks," Negan said, "but they all made the choice to be here and they can leave just as easily. No strings attached."

"Okay," Carl answered purely because he felt like he had to.

"Come in and take a seat. I'll have one of my wives make you something."

Negan walked in the room and the women got up to greet him, giving Carl curious looks over his shoulder. He walked in slowly, feeling uncomfortable and unsteady. He took a seat on a gray loveseat that looked brand new, or at least barely used. He wondered where it came from.

"Carl, this is Frankie, one of my wives," Negan introduced a nice looking redhead to him. "Frankie, why don't you help Carl settle in while I have a quick chat with Sherry."

He left them then and went to stand by a pretty brunette at a small bar.

"You want anything to drink?" Frankie asked Carl.

He looked up at her once, but quickly averted his eyes. He didn't feel right looking at her.

"Uh-um," he stuttered and wiped his sweaty hands on his knees. "I think I'm good."

He nodded up at her to show he appreciated the offer, making quick eye contact with her once more before looking away again. She sat down next to him, her body facing his and an arm leaning on the back of the couch, her hand in her hair. He scooted away from her a tad, looking in the opposite direction of where she was. He wished she'd go away.

"You know, you're pretty cute. Got a girlfriend?" She asked him.

Carl furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head to her. He saw her smiling teasingly at him.

"Yes," he answered and chose to inspect a rather expensive looking vase on the other side of the room.

"Well, I'm not asking for me," she said as if she thought he misunderstood her. "While you are a cutie, you're a bit young for my taste. And I'm also married."

Carl nodded slowly, turning his lips down and drumming his fingers on his knees. He wanted to leave badly. This almost felt worse than being scared for his life earlier; he was used to that. This basically felt like torture.

"There are a lot of pretty girls around here, and Negan seems to have taking a liking to you. I don't think I've seen you around, so you must be new…" Frankie trailed off and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Around those lines," Carl answered her implied question, still drumming silent fingers on his jeans.

"You know, you don't have to be nervous with me. I'm just trying to be nice," she said, leaning over to try to catch his eye.

Carl looked down at his lap, feeling a little bit ashamed for being rude to her. He just wasn't sure how to act. He hadn't expected to be in this sort of situation at all. In fact, he figured he might be taken prisoner, beaten up, or killed, but he had to try. He couldn't leave Daryl and Everly to waste away in this place anymore; not after their visit today.

"Sorry," he told her and finally looked up at her for more than a second. "I'm just kinda…"

"Freaked out?" Frankie offered.

"A bit," Carl obliged and looked over his shoulder to find Negan standing at a bar with the same woman. "I had no idea… I just didn't expect this."

"It's okay," Frankie practically sang. She placed a warm hand on his arm.

Carl smiled at her but it quickly dropped when Negan walked in front of them and to a blonde woman he hadn't noticed before in a far corner. She was crying, and she looked scared. Negan sat down across from her as she wiped tears from her face.

"What's going on over there?" Carl asked. He was afraid he was about to witness something domestic and he did not want to be a part of it.

"Oh," Frankie said as she looked behind her. "That's Amber. She's just…upset about something. It's nothing."

It didn't look like nothing to Carl. The woman was shaking and could barely meet Negan's gaze as they spoke. Something serious must've happened and Carl started to feel increasingly more anxious. He didn't know these women, but he'd protect them if he had to. Nothing at this point could give him more pleasure than killing Negan himself.

He started to think of a way he could do it as he stared at them. He imagined himself rushing him, catching him off guard and caving his head in just like he had done to Abraham and Glenn. His fantasy started to feel like reality as the blonde woman started to cry a bit more, seeming to be begging Negan about something. The brutal thoughts slowly cleared his mind like a thick fog as Negan kissed the woman tenderly on her forehead and stood up. He walked over to stop in front of Carl.

"Come on, kid," Negan told him and waved him up. "Let's go somewhere a bit more private. We've got a shit ton to discuss."

Edited by lolasskicker.

Yay! I made it to 100 favorites! You guys are awesome. :D

I know I said that this story wasn't a romance, and I still don't think it is, but as Daryl and Everly worked together, it just felt natural for something to blossom between them. I hope that didn't disappoint anyone, and I just want to point out that the story isn't over yet. Other things will happen! Good things, bad things, things that'll probably make you hate (but hopefully love) this story. In any case, just keep all of that in mind. Anything can, and will, happen.