Chapter 26

Carl sat uncomfortably between Negan and a chauffeuring Savior named Jamie, drumming his fingers on his bobbing knees. He looked to his right at Negan who lounged back against his seat, his elbow resting on the bottom of the open window and his gloved hand holding the top. He watched the scenery passing by them, only giving Carl a glance every now and then, but nothing more. Carl had to admit he found Negan's silence a little more than unnerving since he typically had something to say. Not today, it seemed.

Carl faced forward again as the wind continued to whip around at them, filling the dead air with noise. He wasn't thrilled to be going back home with the help of Negan who was still alive and unharmed. He had wanted to arrive home avenged and with blood on his hands, as a man who had stood up for his people. Instead, he would walk through the gates of Alexandria still a boy, empty handed, and with the enemy. It burned Carl's heart to think of it. How could he have screwed up his goal so badly?

The only thing that did seem to somewhat pacify the sickness he felt in his chest was his discussion with Dwight the night before. Well, if feeling certainty and hopelessness at the same time could pass for pacification. Carl wasn't sure what to make of the exchange he had with Dwight; he was still unsure it had really happened. He had woken up that morning with the vague feeling he dreamt it all, but he knew it had been real. He remembered every detail of it. And when he saw Dwight before Negan had shoved him in the truck, Dwight had stared unblinkingly at him until the truck left the gate and Carl couldn't see him anymore. That was more than an indication that last night had been real.

So with a new objective in sight, Carl felt useful again and hoped that he would get another shot at Negan. He was aware of what decisions could be made and he decided that choosing the good ones were the way to go from now on. No more running blindly headfirst into the belly of the beast. Carl was lucky he made it out unscathed and only a tiny bit humiliated and traumatized. A lot worse could've happened. Next time, he needed to take his time, plan things out, and band together with his people. He would lose greatly otherwise.

Carl hoped that what Dwight told him was true, that he was going to help them get out from underneath Negan's boot. Without him, this whole mutiny thing would be a lot harder to accomplish as their planning had already proved. Not to mention that if Dwight was going to double-cross them, they'd be dead for sure. Carl determined that not agreeing to take Dwight's help outright would be the smartest thing to do. That could come at another time after he spoke with his father. And Negan couldn't punish anyone if they never took the help; it would just be a failing attempt to incriminate them.

Carl saw Alexandria up ahead, and his stomach clenched with anticipation. He flicked his eye back and forth between Negan and Jamie but neither of them said a word. Carl leaned forward as they came to a stop in front of the gate.

"You wanna do the honors? I'm sure the first thing daddy will want to hear is all about your little adventure and it might be best if it came from your lips," Negan spoke to Carl.

Carl's sweaty hands gripped his knees as Negan gave him a sideways smile, pulling the handle on the door and pushing it out with his foot. Negan raised his hands up briefly in question when he didn't answer.

"Fine, kid, have it your way," Negan said and stepped out of the truck to strut up to the gate, Lucille in hand.

"Open it up."

Carl heard Gabriel call down to someone from his post as he climbed out of the truck. He wanted to stay hidden inside the cab all of a sudden, ashamed for what he had done. He knew that sneaking into Negan's truck yesterday had been a mistake, but he wasn't ready for the lecture he was sure to get from his father.

"Carl?" Tara said once the gates were open.

Gabriel joined her side, his eyes going wide once they landed on him.

"Yes, it's Carl. And me, and a few of my men and women who had to drag their asses back here to bring him back home," Negan answered, grabbing Carl's shoulder. "Seems like the little guy got a bit bored yesterday, wanted to go for a ride with Uncle Negan; test out his sword fighting skills. Ain't that right, kid?"

Negan gave Carl's shoulder a good shake. Carl studied the ground while Tara and Gabriel exchanged a perturbed look.

"Well, don't keep me waiting. Rick the Prick around?" Negan asked them.

"Actually, he isn't," Gabriel replied. "He and Aaron went out on a supply run after you left yesterday afternoon. They haven't returned yet."

"Well, shit on me," Negan stomped a foot and turned his attention on Carl. "I guess that makes you the host until he returns. Why don't you show me where home is, kid? It's the least you could do after I showed you mine."

Negan told his surrounding Saviors to make themselves useful, to find something interesting to do, as Carl started forward, Negan's hand still on his shoulder as he kept pace with him. Carl didn't look up as he passed by Tara and Gabriel, afraid to meet their gaze and see disappointment there. He wanted to tell them what he had planned, what he had learned and why he was returning home with the one person no one ever expected him to be with, but he kept his mouth shut and led the way to the house he shared with his father, his sister, and Michonne.

"You'd think people would be a little bit more grateful to me for bringing home their leader's son, but instead I'm getting fucking confused sideway glances and eat-shit-and-die glares," Negan whispered to him. "It's like they don't understand why the hell I'm back here so soon. Weird, huh?"

Carl grimaced as Negan softly chuckled and gave his shoulder a rough shove.

Carl had initially felt relieved when Gabriel informed them of Rick's absence, but that relief was swiftly batted into the ground when Negan decided to stay anyway and continue to make him the center of attention.

"This is it," Carl said monotonously, lifting a hand up to his house.

"Well…you gonna invite me inside?" Negan asked him.

Carl rolled his eye and went up the steps, a smiling Negan following behind him. When he opened the front door, he saw Olivia straight ahead in the kitchen, cleaning. She got the same look Tara and Gabriel had when they first saw him with Negan.

"Holy suburban hell!" Negan exclaimed. "Bend me over and fuck me silly, this is the coolest fucking house I've ever seen."

He gave Carl a sarcastic smirk as Olivia rushed over, her brows knitted in worry.

"Uh…Carl? Where have you been?" She said as she wrung her hands together. She cast a quick glance at Negan and whispered, "What is he doing here?"

"He's waiting for dad to get back," Carl replied unenthusiastically.

"But…he was just here yesterday. He already took-"

"Yes, I was here yesterday…" Negan cut her off, bringing Lucille down to proper her up against the wall. He looked Olivia in the eye who shrunk back a step. "But our little pal here thought it would be a good idea to sneak into my compound, try to murder me, and whisk your friends, Daryl and Everly, back here like the fucking hero he wishes to be." Negan gave a hearty chuckle as he pulled Carl in a chokehold hug. "He almost got it done, he was so close! But…he went and fucked around and ended up killing someone else instead."

Negan let Carl go with a rough smack in the middle of his shoulder blades, making him stumble a step. His skin stung where Negan's hand landed, but it didn't feel as bad as the look Olivia was giving him. Her eyes were wide with shock and she looked horrified. He wondered how his dad would look at him once he found out and if it would sting just as bad if not worse. He didn't looked forward to finding out.

"Carl?" Olivia questioned.

"Oh shit, it's okay," Negan held up placating hands. "He really didn't kill anyone of worth. I mean, the fucking loser got his throat slashed open by a damn teenager. What kind of pussy goes out like that?" He laughed and pointed at Carl, "Makes him a badass, though."

Olivia turned her horrified expression onto Negan which then swiftly turned into anger. She quickly pressed her lips together, biting back what had been at the tip of her tongue.

"What? Is my filthy fucking mouth too dirty for you?" Negan took a step closer to her.

"I'd prefer," Olivia took a step back, her voice shaking but determined, "if you'd tone down the language, yes. There are other productive ways to discuss what happened without using a curse every other word."

Negan's smile got wider and light laugh escaped him as his eyes danced over Olivia. He took a step forward again, closing the distance she had tried to make before.

"Well," his voice got soft as he leaned over her, "I'd prefer…if you and I spent this time waiting on your fearless leader using more productive words as well. Such as, it would be enjoyable to fuck your brains out or does your pussy match the drapes? Wait…" Negan's expression became confused, "that's not quite right, is it?"

Carl heard the smack before his brain registered the slap. He jumped at the sound, his heartbeat kicking it up a notch and the butterflies tearing at his stomach again. He was afraid to move.

Olivia began to cry as she looked up at Negan. She had smacked the smile right off his face, but as the tears flowed down her cheeks, it slowly came back to dimple his bearded cheeks. He brought his face down close to hers and she leaned away instinctively.

"I'm about fifty percent more into you now," he whispered to her and laughed as a small scoff of disgust escaped her. "Alright. I'll back off. I'm just gonna kick my boots off and relax while I wait for ol' Rick. Why don't you be a lamb and make use some lemonade?"

"I'm not supposed to-" Olivia began over her tears.

"Make it." Negan's voice was stern. "Make it so I'll have something to enjoy while I bide my time…"

Olivia gave Negan one last look before turning her teary eyes to Carl. She scurried to the door, throwing it open and rushing outside. It closed loudly behind her.

"Really?" Negan turned to Carl with an incredulous laugh.

"Well, you weren't exactly pleasant to her," he explained even though he was fifty percent sure Negan knew what he was doing. He looked at the door Olivia left through.

"Eh," Negan said, following Carl's gaze, "too late to apologize now. Show me around, kid. What secrets does this house hold?"

Carl immediately thought of Dwight and quickly looked away from Negan as he started to show him around the house. Negan seemed genuinely impressed and interested in everything he showed him despite the fact that he had visited Alexandria multiple times, already having gotten a tour from Everly herself. Carl recognized that the town was a special place; anyone who came across it would instantly know that, but it seemed so ordinary to him now.

I've officially assimilated, Carl comprehended. Alexandria didn't hold the awe and glamour for him as it did before. It was bound to happen eventually. He guessed it took a violent stranger invading his home for him to finally understand that.

They were upstairs, viewing his bedroom and then the room his father shared with Michonne, when Negan opened a door further down the hallway.

"Wait!" Carl called, but it was too late.

"Ooooooh!" Negan smiled sweetly at him from the doorway and headed inside. "Who do we have here?"

Carl rounded the door frame and into the room to see a bedraggled, grumpy Judith standing up in her crib and her fine hair astray. Negan clapped his hands together once, offering them to her and she held up her arms in permission for him to pick her up. He did so, a goofy grin on his face as he studied the toddler.

"This is your little sister, right? Jessica?" Negan asked him over his shoulder.

"Judith," Carl corrected him.

"Oooh, Judith," Negan leaned back to look the girl in the face. "Well, aren't you just the cutest fucking thing I ever did see. Yes, you are!" Negan cooed to her as he bounced her in his arms. Judith stared at the stranger who was holding her and Carl narrowed his eye at him. Neither were very amused.

"She needs to be fed," Carl said, walking forward to take his sister from a maniac's arms.

"Are you a good big brother, Carl?" Negan asked suddenly, shifting Judith to his other hip, away from her brother's reach. He didn't answer. "Little girls need good big brothers to help take care of them in a world like ours. After all, you did put a bullet in her mother's head. Who else does she have left but your dumbass dad?"

"Our father…is a good man, a great man. Something you wouldn't know shit about."

"Is that so, serial killer?" Negan got close to him, holding Judith snuggly in his arms. Carl knew better than to make a grab for her. "Did your father know where you last night? Did he even know you were gone? Is he out looking for you right now or…working for me?"

The two stared at each in a heated silence. Carl's breathing hitched up in anger but Negan remained at ease, a soft smile curving his lips. Judith must've either sensed the tension or got fed up with standing around because she started to whine, scrunching her red face up and getting ready to let loose the waterworks. Negan cradled her head to his chest, swaying her back and forth as he worked to calm her down, never breaking eye contact with Carl.

"Come on, kid," he said, breaking the silence between them. "Let's get little sis a snack, and afterward, I'll show you some things about being a man."

Spencer got ready in his room, smoothing his shirt down into his slacks and gelling his hair back just right. He wanted to make an impression, a good one, because everything depended on it; his reliability, authority, legitimacy, and most importantly, his freedom. What he held dear was balanced against the odds of any possible outcome of him doing this and he wanted to make sure he got it right. This might be his only, and last, chance.

"Never let anyone down with a well pressed shirt and a smile," he told himself in the mirror and smiled widely. He fixed a few stray hairs and surveyed his meticulous appearance to make sure everything looked just right.

You got this, Spence. No way he could say no to you.

Spencer was taking a blind leap on going to Negan about his role in Alexandria, and if he was being honest with himself, he was kind of nervous that he would refuse him. He might laugh in his face, call him a fool, and out him in front of everyone as a traitor. They would ridicule him, shun him, or worse yet, cast him out into exile. But that was worst-case scenario. He just needed to convince Negan. Persuade him that Rick was no good as a leader and that he needed to be replaced- hopefully by him. He had the looks, the charisma, and the right. This town was his, it was his family's. And all that had happened since Rick and his group arrived was tragedy after tragedy. Spencer was ready to amend that and ensure the people of Alexandria nothing more would unfold.

That was the next problem, though. Most people seemed to like Rick, or at least be comfortable with him as a leader. Spencer had to admit that Rick had a knack for taking charge and holding onto it. He also had a knack for putting a lot of peoples' lives in danger, and not just the people of Alexandria, but his own. It wasn't necessarily his brother's or father's deaths that made him realize it. Hell, it wasn't even his mother's. It was the constant misery he had seen everyone in since Rick so "boldly" introduce himself to Negan. He told all of them that it was for their own good that they strike first, that they needed to take the enemy out before they could get to them, but look where it had gotten them. Cornered, overpowered, and controlled by one of the most organized and dangerous communities he had seen yet. It was time that changed. At least in the way of them being a victim.

No more, he thought. We can work together, but victims we will be no more.

It was time Rick went, and if that meant breaking a few new bonds Spencer had made, so be it. What was most crucial to him at this point in time was that Rick would no longer have the opportunity to put anyone else's life in the crosshairs. He could have his fun; run with the Devil if he wanted to. But he was going to keep him, his friends, and everyone else out of it. He was going to be Alexandria's new leader. He was what they needed, what they deserved. He going to do it for the family he lost and for those who were left.

"I'm doing it for me," he spoke to his reflection and then headed out the door.

"This is some damn good lemonade. Thank you, Olivia," Negan complimented her as she stood rigidly in front of him. "And that spaghetti was on point, am I right? I'm a regular fucking Chef Boyardee."

He gave Carl a whisker free smile, rubbing his bare chin. One of the ways Negan showed him how to be a "man" was to demonstrate how to shave with a straight edge razor; fat lot of good that did Carl, though, because he couldn't grow shit in the way of facial hair. He scoffed at the man and folded his arms. They sat out on the front porch in a couple of whicker rocking chairs as if it was the most normal thing in the world. They were almost like two peas in a pod, if one pea was a raging lunatic and the other an angry, hormonal teenager surviving the worst two years of his life.

"I can just take her," Olivia suggested, holding her hands out to Judith who sat in Negan's lap. He patted the toddler's leg and bundled her closer to him.

"She's just fine where she's at. She likes Uncle Negan, right?"

He looked down at the child, smiling brightly at her as she gazed up wonderingly in return. Olivia pressed her lips together, upset with herself that she left Judith alone in the same house as this evil man, but he had flustered her so much that she had ran out without thinking. She felt like the worst babysitter in the world.

"Why don't you run along and get started on that mess inside, huh? A woman your size…" Negan paused, looking her once over and giving her a sweet smile, "I'm sure you're used to destroyed kitchens."

Olivia felt the tears start to mingle around her lashes again as she briskly turned around and headed inside.

"Oops," he said, turning to Carl with a regrettable grin on his face. "There I go again."

Carl glared at him for a second before rolling his eye and looking away. He saw Spencer, who was unusually dressed up for the day, strolling confidently down the street in their direction, a bottle of whiskey in his hands. Carl wondered what he was up to as he climbed the porch stairs, a large grin on his face.

"Afternoon, gentlemen. Thought I'd stop by and-" he lifted the bottle in his hands "-welcome our guest."

"Well, afternoon to you, friend," Negan greeted him. "Whatcha got there?"

"You look like a whiskey man. Figured you could use a nice handle. Hi, I'm Spencer," he held out his hand to Negan.

"Helloooo, Spencer," Negan returned, shaking his hand. "I certainly am a whiskey man. You've got a good eye. Carl, how about you take sis on inside. Seems like Spencer here might have a few words to share."

Negan held the girl out to him and Carl obliged all too willingly. Let Spencer sit and listen to the asshole ramble on for hours; he was over it. Carl held Judith to his chest, giving Spencer a wary eye as he headed inside.

"Why don't you take a seat, Spence? Crack open that bottle for us."

"Sure thing," Spencer laughed. He twisted the top, tearing the paper seal and uncorking the bottle. He grabbed two empty glasses from the tray Olivia had brought out with the lemonade, pouring them each a good four fingers.

"Damn, you don't fuck around," Negan commented as he took his glass, taking a sip.

"Well, I see this as a celebration," he replied and looked at Negan to gauge his reaction. What he saw was confused amusement.

"Celebration?" Negan questioned.

"Of sorts," Spencer agreed and sipped his whiskey. He took a deep breath. "I'm just happy to be here, sitting with you on this beautiful day, healthy, relaxed…secure."

Negan nodded, considering what he was saying. Then he laughed.

"I'm not quite sure what you mean, but fuck it. You're right. This day is goddamn beautiful, and I sure am healthy, relaxed, and secure. The only things missing are a pool table and cue ball to go with this fine ass whiskey."

"There's a pool table in that house over there," Spencer informed him, pointing to the house across the street.

"Damn, Spencer. I think you just might be my new best friend," Negan smiled, getting up from his chair.

Spencer felt light. This was going exactly as well as he hoped it would, if not better. He knew he could tap into Negan and tread on some common ground with him. He just needed to find a way to connect with the man and the bottle of whiskey had hit the spot.

"What do you say we get some of my guys to bring that pool table out, roadside? Might as well enjoy this glorious day while it lasts," Negan suggested as he slipped on his leather jacket.

"That sounds awesome, man," Spencer said, smiling.

Negan rounded up a few of his Saviors to fetch the pool table from the house across the street and set it up in the road. The clouds overhead cast fluctuating shadows on him and Spencer as they set up the game, the breeze soft and the air warm. It truly was an amazing day. Spencer smiled again.

"I'll let you take the first shot," he joked.

"Oh, I always take the first shot, brother," Negan said and he set the cue ball up where he wanted it.

Now would be the best chance, Spencer thought. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, well, while we play, I thought we could discuss a few things. One thing in particular I've been kind of concerned about."

"Is that so?" Negan looked up at him. He was bending over at the edge of the pool table, lining up his shot with the cue ball. "Well, say what you gotta say. I'm all ears."

His cue hit the ball, sending it into the others with a loud crack. They all scattered like exposed bugs, two finding shelter in the far side and corner pockets. Negan gave out a whistle, pleased with himself.

"Nice hit," Spencer complimented. He cleared his throat again, starting to get nervous. He thought it best to go ahead and be forthright. "I wanted to talk to you about Rick."

Negan stopped studying the balls on the table. He straightened up, eyeing Spencer closely. He grabbed the cube of chalk that sat near him and powered the end of his cue while he tried to figure out the man in front of him. He sighed.

"Alright, talk. Talk as much as you deem necessary."

Spencer swallowed and his gut clenched.

"Well, frankly, I think Rick is a bit of a loose cannon. He's barely sleeping, hardly speaks. Sometimes, I don't even see him for days on end. And most of the time when I do see him, it's like he's slowly unraveling, losing his mind," Spencer took a moment for that to sink in. He continued when Negan kept playing. "I understand what you want. What you're trying to do. I can't say I'd do it the same way, but I think it's pretty noble of you to take on such a big responsibility."

Negan looked up at him at that. He had on a sideways smile and the sight encouraged Spencer to keep going.

"I don't believe Rick understands that. He's see the world through such broken lenses that everyone is the enemy to him. Even the people who he's supposed to be the leader of,." Spencer paused to take his shot and continued talking when no balls made it in. "He's a danger…to the lives and well-being of anyone he is involved with. He pretends like he's on board, like he's giving you control…but I can see him starting to crack. It's only a matter of time before he tries to do something like he did before, and I'm not going to let that happen. I can't. Not after he already went crazy once here…and certainly not after he let my family die."

Negan made another successful shot before standing up and dropping the butt of his cue down to the road. He leaned slightly on the stick as he made eye contact with Spencer, considering what he was saying. He made some fair points. Rick had been looking pretty rough the last time Negan saw him, and he must be in a pretty fragile state if one of his followers was betraying him to his foe. But Negan wasn't sure he liked that.

"I see," he said slowly. He set the cue down on the table, walking over to Spencer. "What do you suggest I do about him?"

"Exile him," Spencer said frankly. "Send him back on the road, just as he came. He survived as long as he did on it, I'm sure he can do it again."

"And who do you supposed would be the new leader?" Negan titled his head. "I think I can take a good guess at who you're considering…"

Spencer smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"My mother was the initial dignitary here. I think it only natural I follow her footsteps and not some stranger."

"Oh, shit!" Negan exclaimed. "You think it's your God damned given right, don't you!"

Spencer's smile faltered a bit at that. He sensed a bit of incredulity in Negan's voice that hadn't been there earlier. Before he could say any more to get control of the conversation again, Carl and Olivia came out of the house, curious as to what the shouting was about. A few others from Rick's group also began to gather around and so did some of Negan's Saviors. Spencer started to sweat as Negan laughed.

Negan came up, leaning in close so he could speak intimately with him. He wasn't smiling anymore.

"You see, Spencer, I like the men who work for me to have guts. Right now, Rick is out there risking his life to make sure he gets me what I need. He swallows all the hate and rage and he goes out there to get shit done. That takes guts…Spencer." Negan poked him in the stomach and Spencer let out a soft grunt. "I'm not so damn sure that you have what it takes to be a leader, never mind ever being in fucking charge of anything of mine. In fact," Negan took a step back, unsheathing a bowie knife from his side. He slammed the blade into Spencer's belly. "I don't think you've got guts at all."

Olivia cried out, covering her mouth with her hands and Carl stood flabbergasted, his mouth hanging open with horror. As they watched, blood gushed from Spencer's stomach, staining his freshly pressed button down shirt and khaki pants. He started to choke on the breath that was caught in his chest and Negan yanked the knife to the left, opening up his stomach up more to allow his intestines to spill out.

Negan jerked the knife out and Spencer fell to his knees, clutching his insides that were now lying on the pavement.

"Motherfucker, I was wrong!" Negan bent down to yell joyfully at him. "You did have guts. They were hiding inside of you the entire time! How shortsighted of me."

He winked at him and stood up, letting out a long laugh as Spencer coughed up blood and fell on his side.

Spencer stared up at the clouds as his body began to grow numb and cold, the previous warmth from the day, and the whiskey, leaving his body. He thought of his family; of how much he missed them and how stupid he felt for letting them die the way they did. He was realizing too late that Rick hadn't been the cause, nor had anyone else. Death had always been there. It was already ready for them, eager and patient, and eventually it would come for them. It would come for them all.

Edited by lolasskicker.