Carl Grimes Imagines

Imagine 33

For Miss_Nothing93

(Y/N)'s P.O.V.
Sometimes I wonder if my life would be any different if I would've just went with The Governor instead of trying to fit in with the group. I'm the one who got everyone killed.

But it wasn't my fault.

I was under the order of Rick Grimes to catch the attention of The Governor, lead him on to me sexually, and distract him while the group attacks. But yet I'm the bad guy because I freaked out and didn't let a forty year old into my pants.

I lean my head back against the tree, dangling my legs down on either side of the trunk. If I fell, I'd probably only break my arm or something. It's either that or get attacked by a walker when I'm sleeping.

"Well, what do we have here?" A man-maybe in his forties-looks up at me, his arms crossed across his chest. I pull my legs up close to me, eyeing the strange bat he has in his hands.

"This is Lucille, and I'm Negan. You can come down, Lucille and I won't hurt you. We have an unspoken rule about kids," He says, offering out a hand. When I don't take it, he chuckles.

"I like you, little missy. What's your name?" He asks,  swaying back and forth on his feet.

"(Y/N)," I say, meaning for it to come out strong. Instead, I say it with a voice crack.

"(Y/N). That has a nice ring to it," Negan says, nodding. "Do you have a group?"

I start to answer, but then I hear a growl. About ten yards away are two walkers. I climb down from the tree, stepping up to Negan. I tug on the bat, but his grip tightens. I stare him in the eye, and eventually his grip loosens. I turn around, bat in hand, and walk up to the walkers.

I take a swing at the first one, knocking it to the ground. Since my softball skills didn't quite kill the first one, I decide to smash the other one's skull in from the top. The second one is dead, so I walk back over to the first one and stomp on its skull. I wipe Lucille on the ground, trying to get the chunks of flesh and blood off of its spikes.

"Damn, kid. How would you like to be in my group?" Negan asks, taking the bat from me. I shrug, leaning back against my tree.

"First of all, I'm seventeen. I'll be an adult in October. Secondly, I'm not much of a group person. I like being in charge, not being told what to do."

"Well, then how about I make you my right hand...woman?"

"So I take it you're the one in charge?" I ask, watching him nod. "I've dealt with leaders like you. You think you're the shit, bossing everyone around and what not. You know what happens? You call the shots that put other people in danger, morally and physically, and then blame them if something goes wrong. How am I to know that the person you put in danger won't be me?"

"Damn, your last group screwed you over pretty bad, didn't they?" Negan asks. He hit the nail on the head, but I just shrug.

"Kid, I hereby promise I will not make you do anything too dangerous. I mean, you might have to kill a couple of people, but that's just the apocalypse."

"Alright, I'll be your winglady...or whatever, but on one condition. I get to call some of the shots, too."

"Deal," Negan says, reaching out his hand. I shake it, and we start to walk.

//A couple months later\\

"Rise and shine, kiddo. It's your birthday," Negan says, barging into my room. He pulls back a curtain, making me squint.

"Oh, that." I sigh, rolling over. I stuff my face into my pillow, letting out a groan. I hate getting attention, and that's what birthdays are all about.

"Birthdays are just social constructs anyways," I say, but I'm muffled by the pillow.

"Why do you hate your birthday so much? I've only heard you talk about it twice in the four months I've known you," Negan says, taking a seat at my desk chair. I hear the clunk of wood as he sits Lucille down on the floor beside him.

"I don't know, I guess I just don't like the attention."

"Tell me something I don't know," Negan chuckles.

Is he laughing at his own joke? He's such a dad.

"Come on kid, get up. I made everyone promise not to treat you any differently today. That's why I got home so late last night," he says, and I roll over to face him.

"Alright, I'll get up, but you've got to get out. I don't have any pants on," I say, knowing that'd do the trick. Negan scrunches up his face, flying out of my room. When the door shuts, I let out a sigh and head over to my closet to pick out clothes.

I pick out a light pink blouse and jeans, slip on some socks, brush and braid my hair, and then walk downstairs.

"Surprise!" Everyone yells, standing behind Negan. He has a cake with eighteen individual candles for me to blow out. I send him my best glare, and then I smile at everyone else. I blow out my candles, wishing this day would just end already.

I sit down at the dining table, and Negan sits down next to me. Everyone else kind of just does their own thing.

"I'm going to kill you," I say, watching Negan smile. He sticks his finger in the cake, licking  the icing from his finger.

"Hey, my cake!"

"I thought you didn't care about your birthday?" Negan smirks.

"I never said I didn't want a cake," I smile, dipping my finger in the icing and then flicking it at him.

"Negan, I know you said not to interrupt, but we've caught them." Tony, one of Negan's men, say. Negan's smile grows, and he wipes the icing from his face.

"(Y/N), it's time for you to kill your first human as an adult," Negan says, standing. I stand too, following him out of the house and down the road.

"Who is them?" I ask.

"A group who's caused our group nothing but trouble," Negan says, leading us down a dirt path.

"(Y/N), this is Rick Grimes and his group."

•••
Is this a...cliffhanger? No, it couldn't be! I'd never do that to you guys! Especially with my irregular updating schedule!

Hehe, yes I would.

Honestly, I'm so into Negan and (Y/N)'s father/daughter relationship.

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