The mere thought of Negan sharing the same blood as you made you shake with anger. He brought you nothing but sadness, and you had yourself convinced that you could never consider him your father again. Not after all he did to you and your family.
For you, family wasn't your blood. You had no genetic connection to any of the people who were always there for you, whether you needed them or not. Abraham was your family. Glenn was your family. Daryl was your family. Because of Negan, your family was torn from you.
You and your father were as close as you could have imagined. It was just the two of you against the world. When your mother passed, you clung to your father for support. He clung to the new world, finding comfort in violence. He wasn't always that way, though.
Your dad sat you down on the countertop of an abandoned convenient store as he scavenged through the remains of the shop. The shelves had been rummaged through, but he was able to stock up on some non-perishable food and drinks.
"
Here, kid," he said, handing you a packet of jerky. You handed him a strip, and he happily took it. He smiled at you, then rubbed your hair teasingly. You giggled, pushing his hand off you, but he pulled you in for a hug. "I'm so happy I have you."
You didn't know it at the time, but your father was slowly morphing into a villain; someone who you would grow to hate. You were only a kid, so it took you a while to realize why he was so upset all the time. You didn't have as much to miss from the old world as he did.
There was one event in particular that made your father a completely different person. It didn't mean much to you at the time... You had no concept of what was right or wrong. You had been taught to kill the dead, but your father was always against harming the living.
You stood close behind your dad, your knife firmly grasped in your hand. He taught you how to defend yourself early on, once he realized that he couldn't protect you forever. You were good with your hands and even better with a knife. Although, your skills with a gun were unbelievable in your father's eyes.
He used a rusted crowbar to force open the door to an old gas station. There was a small market attached to the inside which seemed untouched. The shelves were relatively full, and they were all stocked up fairly well. Your father smiled at you when the door popped open, swinging out towards him.
"Stay close," he whispered. You nodded, sticking to his backside. Your eyes darted around the room, which was seemingly empty. Your father went one way, and you went another. Before you knew it, a hand was cupped tightly around your mouth, and you were being dragged towards the back of the store.
Your breathing was heavy, and you couldn't remember much after that. When you woke up, the room was silent. Your father was covered in blood, as were the four bodies that surrounded him. The only difference was that your father was breathing.
Your mind was blank, numbed by the wave of shock that took over you. His eyes held yours for what seemed like hours. Neither of you dared to make a sound. You weren't scared. You knew your father would never hurt you. You were confused, though. He always told you to be kind to the living.
That was when everything changed. He was able to remain himself after Lucille died, but when those men tried to hurt you, he snapped. His will to be kind left the same night you did. You never planned on running from him, but his violent tendencies only grew more and more gruesome as time went by.
You left when he was sleeping, an old bat he had found in a house you raided tucked by his side. You didn't leave a note or anything for him to remember you by in hopes that he would move on. You weren't sure how old you were when you left, but you couldn't have been much older than fourteen.
After being on your own for a while, you found a group. They took you in and cared for you to the best of their ability, but they were weak. They were discovered by a group called the Saviors, who claimed to be led by a man by the name of Negan.
You told yourself that you left because of their willingness to give up half of their supplies, but you knew the true reason. Negan was an uncommon name, and there was no way in hell you were willing to figure out if it was the same man you had grown to hate.
You fled that community just like you fled from your father. You left in the middle of the night and found shelter wherever you could until you stumbled upon a small community. You were out scavenging for food when you came upon a man by the name of Jesus.
He took you back to the Hilltop, where you were taken care of like never before. All was well until the Saviors established their dominance once again over a group you had joined. You did what you did best, and left to restart your life again.
Alexandria welcomed you with open arms. You met Carl, who quickly became your best friend, and eventually became more than that. Your bond was unbreakable, and you didn't see yourself running away from him any time in the near future.
You were on the run. For once, it was towards people, not away from them. Maggie was pregnant, and something was going wrong. You didn't know if she was going into labor, if she had had a miscarriage, or maybe if there were any unknown complications.
You and Carl were leading the way through the woods as the other members of your group carried Maggie behind you. Your dim flashlight flickered as its battery began to run low, but you still managed to weave your way through the complicated maze formed by the tree roots.
You were across Carl, on your knees. You really tried your hardest to be scared, but you weren't. You didn't have the willpower to be scared at that point. Your body shook unknowingly, and your head seemed to grow heavier and heavier with each breath you took.
"Let's meet the man," a man clothed in gray from head to toe said. Your eyes remained focused on the gravel beneath your knees, and the RV door was busted open. The voice you heard made you release a sob you didn't know you were holding in.
Your dad had grown a beard the colors of salt and pepper, and he sported a fine leather jacket with gloves to match. He scanned the row of your friends before his eyes met yours. You saw him quickly come towards you, and that's when your eyelids became too heavy to hold open.
Hi... sorry for that one month and one day without updating...
From Tumblr
-Wonder
