(A/N): Besties ermmm, i'm gonna be crucified for this aren't i but it's an UPDATEEE😀Ok behind the scenes exclusive, the layout of the chapters is fucking with me a bit, but I think this is right!

~

   Carl had woken up as early as his body would let him, rushing himself to get dressed and sneak out just before the crack of dawn.

   He didn't eat breakfast, nor stop by Rick and Michonne's room. He wouldn't have stopped by anyway if they had still even been awake.

He quickly, but shakily, got dressed, buttoning his flannel, zipping his jeans, lacing his shoes, and snatching his hat before he snuck out the door, but not before quickly double checking everything he just did. He felt like he was reaching for time, begging for more as it slipped out of his pale fingers.

He pressed his back to it as soon as it shut, exhaling. He felt like crying, vomiting, doing something to stop himself, hell, even slapping himself in the face as hard as his hand would let him, but another part of him didn't want to.

He knew he had to do this. He knew he at least had to try, even if it meant his own life. Even if it meant the grieving it would cause.

If Carl had to think of one thing that has never changed about him, it was his stubbornness.

With his last thought, he shut the front door, and stepped into the peeking dawn.

~

Nothing but the vibration of the truck was all Carl could feel. It felt like the sudden bumps in the road, the hum of the engine, the clanking of the gun in his hand was the only sounds and sensations he knew existed in the entire world. Someone could go up to him and tell him that that was all there ever was, and he'd believe it without question.

He felt the cool metal, feeling how it warmed up under the light touch of his skin. He pet the rifle like a pet, hugging it close to him, rubbing his thumb lightly over the trigger, careful not to shoot. Guns were sensitive after all, and one fire could end him.

The truck ride filled him with an odd sensation of comfort, a deep memory from his childhood unlocked by the lull of the road. He even felt his eyes close lightly from time to time.

His mother used to take him on car rides when he was sad. Car rides have always calmed him down, helped him open up to talk about his issues.

A memory from his early childhood was brought in front of his brain, playing out like a movie in front of him.

Lori's car pulled up to the front of the elementary school, ready to pick up her son. To her surprise, she spotted her little boy slightly later than his usual time of dismissal.

Carl was always eager to be the first one out the door as soon as the bell rang, but this time, the sad little boy walked like there were rocks in his pockets, dragging his feet and keeping his head down.

Lori unlocked her doors as Carl got close and reached for the back door. He opened it with a huff, and set his backpack and himself down on the black leather seat, diagonal to his mother.

Lori looked at him through her back mirror. "Hi honey! How was your day?" She gave the best optimism she could in her voice.

Carl remained silent. Lori hummed in thought.

"Would a drive help?" She suggested. Carl nodded silently.

Lori pulled out of the school lot, and drove towards her neighborhood. She drove past her house.

She had always said "Driving while talking with someone is always beneficial for them opening up, because they don't have to make eye contact with you." Besides, Carl just enjoyed the car. Rick had always teased him for that, saying, "Well, it's in your name! Car-l!"

After a while, Carl looked up at her, tears welling in his eyes. "A boy pushed me today and called me a freak..." He kept his head down, nervous that someone was seeing him cry.

"What? Who did that! He better have gotten in trouble for that or I swear to god I will call his parents and-" Lori immediately got huffed at the thought of someone, anyone, hurt her son. The car lurched a bit.

"No no, mom! Don't worry! A girl helped me out after I fell. I'm okay now." Little Carl said, wiping his tears away.

Lori settled back into her seat and kept the car at a steady pace. "Alright. Are you at least feeling better, sweetheart?" She looked at her son in the rear view.

Carl met her eyes, then looked away. "I do now. Thank you." He gave a small sniffle while wiping the rest of his tears away.

Lori smiled as her son began to smile with her. "Thank you for opening up to me, honey. You know, it's always healthy to tell people what's wrong when you're upset."

"I know mom...I know." Carl smiled.

"...I love you mom."

"I love you too, Carl."

Carl snapped awake at the last few second of his memory. Was he asleep?

"That's enough of that." He mumbled to himself.

What would his mother think of him now, not even listening to her words, the lessons she left for him to grow stronger as a person? Despite the fact that he was risking his life, he felt more of a coward than ever.

He suddenly felt eyes on him. To his surprise, he turned his head to see a familiar face surrounded with shiny waterfalls of golden hair, encapsulated in a black beanie. Carl still thought he was dreaming, but the bumps in the road kept him grounded.

"Hey." Carl nodded at Jesus as he crouched in the back of the truck.

Jesus gave Carl a knowing glance, like he had read his mind in that one brief moment. Carl pursed his lips in a line, clutched the gun closer in his lap, and let his eyes lightly close again.

At that point, he shut his brain off, and put his mind on autopilot.

Then, he felt the truck stop.

~

(sorry it's been a while since i've seen the episode i don't remember exact dialogue!)

The sounds of gun shots rang out near the Sanctuary.

"Alright, everyone have your fuckin hands where I can see em!" Carl shouted, his voice hoarse, his eyes blown wide, the gun clutched in both of his hands tightly.

A few men dropped to the ground, dead. Blood spattered on the dry grass. The men all raised their hands in surrender as they looked at Carl.

Carl's hands felt sweaty, his legs kept on bouncing from one to another; he could feel his heartbeat in his throat, in his head, throbbing, warming his whole body up until he felt like he would burst.

"Well, whoopdy-fuckin-doo..." An eerie, hoarse, deep voice that shook Carl to his core, echoed across the delivery yard.

Negan stepped over the boxes of supplies, eyeing the Saviors, the men he had shaped into his image, that had so easily surrendered to a teenager.

"You pathetic sons of bitches get back to work!" He paused, then looked at the scared teenager in front of him.

"Caaarll! My man! How the hell are ya?" Negan spread his arms wide with faked surprise, giving one of his frightened men a large slap on the back.

Lucille twirled in one hand as he eyed Carl up and down, licking his lips. He shoved his free hand in his pants pocket, moving it around a bit as is he was adjusting something. He loved seeing Carl shaking, shoulders heaving with adrenaline, and holding a big ass gun!

He took his hand out of his pocket and stepped closer to Carl.

"Don't take one more fucking step or I'll shoot!" Carl readjusted his stance and waved the gun in Negans face.

What the fuck? Why couldn't he press the trigger? Why did he feel frozen in place...? All this built up, all of his sleepless nights, his tears, his friends...now wasn't the time to second guess things! His insides wanted to cry.

Negan raised a brow, jokingly. "Oh yeah? You suuure about that?" He flashed his teeth, laughing at Carl's stupidity.

What the hell was this kid thinkin? No wonder he gives me so much entertainment. Negan thought.

The older man turned around and growled at his men. "Point those damn guns, maggots! You have em for a reason!" The Saviors all compiled in an instant, raising their weaponry and pointing at Carl.

Negan sighed, his gloved hand holding his head. "Do I have to do everything around here...?" He looked up as Carl lowered his gun, but never showed the look of defeat.

His eye still narrowed at the old man bitterly.

"Ah, come on, kid! Lighten up!" Negan grabbed Carl's leg and forced him down from the truck. Carl let out a surprised gasp, one that Negan liked a little too much.

A Savior immediately took the gun out of Carl's hand harshly as Negan began tapping Carl's thigh lightly, the barbed wire scraping his jeans. Negan peeked at a tiny tear he had managed to make in the fabric, leering at the boys slightly uncovered thigh.

Carl noticed the tear and shoved his leg away as he walked beside Negan begrudgingly. He felt so stupid. He felt so useless. He felt like if he still had the gun, he would rampage on Negan and his corpse, then shoot himself in the face, and he would smile.

But now he felt like he could cry all over again. He felt weak, small, helpless, like the child he forgot he was.

Negan interrupted his thoughts like a bullet train crashing into the station. "Come on, kid. Lemme at least give you the courtesy of giving you a tour after you shot my people." He smiled a nasty smile right in Carl's face.

"It's only fair..."

~

The two boys stood on top of a balcony overlooking the main work area. Carl had his pale, freckled hand resting on the rusty metal safety bar as he looked down at the Saviors all hustling about, making their community thrive.

Carl began to wonder. These people probably had families, maybe some had wives, husbands, sons, daughters, large families, or maybe they were just doing this for themselves. Carl had a hard time seeing these people like his own people.

He forced those thoughts to the back of his head. He didn't shoot a husband. He didn't shoot a father. He didn't shoot someone's son. He killed an enemy with no mercy for his family, and that's the way he desperately needed to see it that way.

"It's fascinating, right?" Negan noticed Carl's intent stare at the working bees below him. "It's amazing what people can do when you promise them food, water, and a home. What they'll do when they're whipped into shape by fear. When they're broken down and made to serve. That's the only way you thrive and keep order in this world. Remember that, Carl." Negan tapped Lucille in the metal lightly.

Carl felt the slight vibration in the metal travel to his hands. He took his hands off and put them back to his sides. He kept his eye on the people below, not looking back at the man beside him.

He swallowed. Negan watched Carl's throat move.

"I believe you're wrong. You can't have anything really worth living, when all there is, is just fear. No family, none of these people are even your friends. That's no way for anyone to live." He turned to the man. "Even you."

Negan seemed to actually listen, ponder, turn his words over in his head. "You may be right." Negan glanced at his bat, and didn't say anything else.

Negan simply walked past him, tapping Lucille on the ground lightly. He glanced over his shoulder, narrowed his eyes, and licked his lips.

"Follow me, Carl."

~

(A/N): Hee hee hee I know I keep you waiting im a huge bitch but yall are insane I love you more than I can type. 2064 words!