Who We Were | TWD²

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    The boy was led into a new room. This one held a large bed and a small seating area, lamps placed on the end tables to illuminate the small space. Everything was gray, even down go the upholstery on the chairs and the tassels on the pillowcases that were placed neatly on the bed. Carl awkwardly took a step inside, still balancing the tray of food in his hands. He stopped, nearly shuddering and Negan walking in behind him, closing the door to his apartment.

    "Are all of those women actually your-" The thought disgusted Carl so much that he didn't even have the strength to finish that sentence.

    "Wives? Yeah," Negan responded in a low voice. "I always wanted to screw a whole bunch of different women. I mean, why settle for just one? Why follow the same old rules? Why not make life better? Speaking of, sit. Let's get started."

    For a brief moment, Carl stood anxiously in place, unsure what to do or where to move. Once he saw Negan moving towards the seating area on the other side of the room, he relaxed himself just enough to pace over to one of the chairs and set the tray he'd been carrying on the table.

    "Started on what?" Carl asked, trying the best he could to keep his voice level as he spoke so Negan was sure to see how serious he was about going there. As much as he tried to look Negan straight in the eyes and tell him what was on his mind - to spew all the anger he had bottled up for the man right at him - he couldn't help but think about Emmie, wondering if she'd made it into Hilltop alright and everything was safe with her.

    Carl thought about how she didn't know that all the things he had told her were true. He meant every single thing that came out of his mouth, even if he doubted the time in which he was saying them. Even if it might have been the wrong time, he stayed truthful with his accusations and wished that she could know that. Another piece of himself wondered if she was also thinking about him, too, but decided that she was too free spirited to be pondering on someone like him. Someone, he decided, didn't really matter.

    "I want to get to know you a little better, Carl," Negan sighed, placing his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward on the sofa across from Carl.

    "Why?"

    "Work it out. You're smart. In fact, I'm gonna tell you just how smart you are, in case you don't already know. See, I'd expect a kid your age to be moping around, not doing a damn thing except crying about missing the prom. But you - you go on a mission. You find me, you kill two of my men, and you're smart enough to know that I'm not gonna let this slide." Negan scoffed, his voice twisting into a deep laugh. Carl's expression was unwavering, despite the deep feelings of nervousness hiding inside of him. "Ah, I can't - I can't do it. It's like talking to a birthday present. You gotta take that crap off your face. I want to see what Grandma got me."