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Negan had noticed it as soon as he made eye contact with Carl that first night. There was something about him, a certain twinkle in that single eye. He was a dangerous little shit, didn’t scare easy. He’s going to be trouble down the road, Negan thought to himself before making a gory display of two of their group members.
The thing was, it probably would have been best to take the youngest member of the group out while he had the chance. But he was a sucker for a complicated mind and out of that whole lineup Carl stood out. Even though he was the youngest, he looked the most hardened with his eye patch, sheriff’s hat and ‘don’t give a damn’ attitude. The adults, they had many years of fond memories from their lives before. But Carl, his most formative years had been spent killing, both the dead and the living.
Negan found himself thinking about the decision he had made that night while staring down the one-eyed boy with a machine gun pointed at him. All bravado aside, he was scared shitless, but he kept up the act. He hoped it would distract Carl long enough for one of the numbskulls in his employment to save all their asses. When a couple of them finally made a move, Carl reacted just as fast, cutting them down without a second thought.
It was a flurry of gunfire and dust as Saviors scattered this way and that to avoid the ricochet of bullets. Negan hadn’t even seen all of what happened. When the dust cleared, Dwight had the gun, two men were dead, and Carl was on the ground. Negan pushed through his men to get a closer view. “What the shit, Dwight?” He said as the full picture came into view. Carl had been shot. The teen was clutching at his leg with both hands, his head turned to avoid any of them seeing the pained look on his face. He was gritting his teeth to avoid crying out because he’d be damned if they got the satisfaction.
“I didn’t do it. Must have gone off while I was trying to take it from him.” Dwight said with a shrug. Negan passed Lucille off to one of the guys. “Well don’t just stand around with your thumbs up your asses, clean this shit up!” He called out to them, and knelt down beside Carl while the other Saviors went about their orders. “Let me see it, kid.” Negan said while Carl tried to sit up but failed as the strain on his leg was too much. Negan shook his head. “We get it, you’re tough. But if you don’t want to bleed to death out here in the dirt I suggest you play your best hand right now, which is sucking it up and letting me see.”
With a sigh, Carl moved his bloodied hands away from his leg. Two holes in his jeans, through his thigh just above his knee. Negan grimaced a little. “That looks like it hurts. Wasn’t part of the plan, was it?” He asked the boy with a smirk. Carl finally turned his head up to look at him, that same glare from the first night he’d met him. “I didn’t think so.” Negan said, standing up straight again.
The puddle of blood under Carl seemed to have grown quite a bit in the few minutes it had taken for him to assess the situation. “You’re lookin’ awfully pale, kid.” He said, reaching a hand down to help Carl up. But Carl just stared at him. “Really? You’re just gonna lay there with swiss cheese for a leg instead of taking my hand?” Negan asked as the teen’s eyelids started to flutter. Carl opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but his words failed him as he fell fully back against the ground. Carl fell unconscious and Negan shook his head. “These stubborn ass Grimes men, I tell ya’.” He grumbled, pulling Carl up off the ground and hoisting him up into his arms. “Get the door, asshole.” Negan barked at one of the men standing by while he carried Carl into The Sanctuary.
A visit to the doctor revealed that Carl’s bullet wounds were through and through and that he would be fine given proper rest and medication. The doc bandaged him up, slicing up a perfectly good pair of jeans in order to get to his wounds, and gave him a shot of pain killers. Those things weren’t easy to find either but Negan gave him the go ahead. After a few minutes, while the doctor was digging around his cabinet for more medicine, Carl’s eyes fluttered open again. He groaned loudly as awakening also brought back the feeling of two holes in his leg. He tried to get up again once he realized he was in a place he didn’t recognize and almost fell off of the exam table when his injured leg failed him once again.
There were tears trailing down his cheek as he whined from the pain, breathing heavily. “Don’t strain yourself. You’ll start to feel the medicine in a minute.” The doctor told him as he turned around with two bottles in his hands. He handed the bottles to Negan, telling him that one was for pain, and one was an antibiotic. They were tucked into one of the pockets in his leather jacket before he stepped over to the side of the table where Carl could see him. He had gotten a little quieter, and Negan assumed the medicine was working. “Are you happy with yourself now? You showed up here all badass, planning on killing me and saving the world and all you accomplished was shooting yourself in the leg.” Negan said, feeling extra satisfied with himself for having actually survived Carl’s plan even if it was due to sheer luck.
“Shut up.” Carl whined, closing his eye and turning his head. Negan arched an eyebrow. Normally Carl had seemed like the stoic type, not the whining ‘shut up’ type. “Damn Doc, what’d you give him? You turned the serial killer into a bratty teenager.” Negan said, turning back to the doctor. “Skinny as he is, enough that he won’t feel that leg for a few hours, at least.” The doctor shrugged. Negan turned back and Carl had his hand up to his face, touching his lips like he was making sure they were still there. “Wow, you’re high as shit, kid.” Negan laughed when he realized what was happening.
Carl made a pathetic noise at him instead of any good retort. Negan ignored it. “Well, doc wants to keep an eye on you for a few days, so it looks like you’re stuck with us. Then we’ll take you back to daddy and let him deal with you. All this after you tried to kill me. And people have the nerve to say I’m not a reasonable guy.” Negan shook his head. Carl looked over at him strangely. “You talk so much all the time.” The teen said, still sounding whiney. If Negan was honest, it was pretty amusing seeing this side of the boy who’d almost succeeded in murdering him.
“Alright kid, let’s go find you a bed.” Negan said, motioning for Carl to get up off the table. Carl huffed at the thought, and started to push himself up again, but as soon as it came time to move his leg, he grunted again and laid back. “I can’t, it hurts.” He said softly, turning his head to Negan. “I need help.” He said, sounding defeated. Shaking his head, Negan stepped over to the table. “You’re damn lucky I think there’s a cool as hell story behind that eye patch that I wanna hear someday or I would have just let you die out there.” He said as Carl seemed a little too eager to put his arms around the older man while he was lifted off the table.
While Negan carried Carl down the hall to find an empty room, he looked curiously at a few things that were happening. Carl was suddenly completely at ease laying there in his arms. Instead of the usual death glare he had permanently fixed on someone or other, he had his head rested on Negan’s shoulder, one hand clutching to the leather of his jacket.
It was easy enough to find a free room for Carl. Negan kept most of the rooms around his own bedroom empty. So he put Carl in the one across the hall, just in case anyone, including the Grimes boy himself, decided to cause trouble. Setting Carl down on the bed seemed to startle him out of whatever comfort he had found laying on Negan’s shoulder, and he whined in protest.
“Well I can’t carry ya’ around all day, kid.” Negan told him while Carl seemed to form the perfect pout with his mouth. “You need to get some rest while that medicine is working. I’ll come back and check on you in a while.” Negan said, taking the pills out of his pockets and setting them on the bedside table. “You’re leaving me?” Carl asked, shaking his head. “You can’t. I might bleed to death in here and no one will know.” He complained. Negan shrugged. “You’ll be fine. I got shit to do. A whole building full of people are counting on me to tell them the difference between their heads and their asses, if you hadn’t noticed.” Negan said, watching as Carl laid back onto the pillow, still pouting. “I don’t want to be alone.” Carl finally said softly.
It caught Negan off guard, seeing the little badass acting like a kid that was scared of the dark. Did he really have anything to do? Yell at some people to do their jobs, screw a wife or two, remind his men what they were supposed to be doing, yeah maybe. But none of it was all that important, the place wasn‘t going to burn down with him not commanding things for a few minutes. Negan sighed, shaking his head as he walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down, leaning back against the headboard. “I’ll stay until you’re asleep.” He decided out loud, which seemed to shut Carl’s whining right up as the boy turned to get comfortable, wincing a little as he moved his injured leg.
Without anything else to do while he waited, Negan watched Carl almost suspiciously, like this was all a ruse and he was going to jump up at anytime and finish what he’d started. Now that would be a good plan, Negan thought to himself. After a few more whining comments from Carl, and uncomfortable tossing and turning, he saw that the younger man’s breathing seemed soft and steady. He had finally fallen asleep.
Slowly, Negan started to sit up again, just about to make his way off of the bed to leave the room. He didn’t even get a foot off the bed before Carl had flopped himself over onto him with a sleepy whimper. Negan lifted his arm out of the way, letting the boy land on his chest, his skinny arm slung over his waist as he sniffled a little before falling back into a comfortable sleep.
Now he was stuck. Sure, he could just push the kid off of him and leave. It was his house, he could do what he wanted. But… that’s not what he wanted. “Shit.” Negan whispered to himself, settling back again while trying not to disturb the sleeping boy. He lowered his arm, resting his hand on Carl’s back softly. The teen seemed to curl into him even more feeling the arm around him while he slept. Negan shook his head. “Damnit, kid.” He said softly before leaning his head back onto the headboard and closing his eyes to wait it out.