It was 7:35 a.m. on the dot when Carl woke up and it wasn't by his choice. Outside of his window there was this loud noise, a grinding and scraping noise that drove Carl mad within seconds. He climbed out of bed and walked towards the window, shoving it open so hard that the entire frame shook. In his driveway, Negan sat with a lawn mower and a box of tools. Not his lawn mower, though, it was Ricks. The one that broke when he ran over Carls soccer ball. Carl rolled his eyes and shut the window, locking it. There was no way he was going back to sleep.
Sunlight spilled into Carls room as he pulled on a shirt and a pair of top big gym shorts. He stuffed his feet into his flip flips and walked out of his room, smirking when he saw the carpet. Yesterday, Carl flooded his bathroom and part of the hallway just to get Negans attention. Cleaning up the mess was worth it considering that Carl got to have Negan on top of him for a full minute straight. Today, though, Carl was pissed. Why the hell was Negan fucking with their old lawn mower and why the hell did he have to do it in the morning?
The kitchen smelled like freshly baked muffins, courtesy of Lori getting up early before going to the salon to get her hair cut. The night before she insisted that Carl needed to come with her but her attempts at bribery were pointless. Carl liked his long hair, but more importantly, older men liked Carls hair. Rick leaned against the counter, unwrapping a muffin and picking off a piece before eating it. He was already dressed in his uniform, hat and everything. There was still another hour before he left.
"You're up early," Rick commented, wrapping an arm around Carl and pulling him into his chest. He kissed the top of his head before pulling away and continuing to eat his muffin.
"Yeah," Carl grumbled, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a small bottle of juice. He twisted the top off and took a sip, letting the taste of apple overwhelm his tastebuds. "Not by choice. I need my beauty sleep."
Rick chuckled at that, nodding. "Then why are you up?" He stuffed the rest of his muffin into his mouth, chewing it up.
"Because of that damn-"
"Language."
"English." Carl smirked when his dad sighed. "That fucking noise outside is killing me. Its like hes driving over one million blenders... with a blender."
Rick rubbed his temples, another sigh falling from his lips. "Do me a favor, Carl, and try to stop swearing, I'm begging." He balled up the muffin wrapper, tossing it in the trash. "As for Negan, when he took a break and came down to eat with Lori and I, while you were up in your room, I told him I've had a broken mower in my shed for about three years. He offered to fix it. So.... hes fixing it."
"Sounds like hes breaking it." Carl climbed onto the counter and picked up a muffin, taking a bite off of the top before taking the wrapper off. It was a mix of blueberry and chocolate. Ricks favorite. Carls least favorite. At least Lori was making an attempt to keep one relationship going. "Hes always coming around," Carl complained, lying straight through his teeth. "Its like hes obsessed with us, dad."
"Only you would think that, son." Rick picked up a half empty bottle of water from off the kitchen table and unscrewed the lid, taking a sip. "Having Negan around is gonna help a lot. Hes cheaper than babysitters and hes right next door. We can trust him." Rick put the cap back on the water and screwed it shut. "He lost his wife and he moved into a completely different town. Hes lonely and if fixing stuff and taking care of you makes him happy, then let him. Don't give him any shit-" Carl smirked when Rick swore. "Alright?"
Carl hopped off the counter, walking over to Rick. He handed him the muffin and smiled, kissing his cheek. "Yeah, okay. I'll play nice." He wrapped his arms around Rick and pulled him into a hug. "I like having Negan around," Carl blushed, "hes a good addition to our family." Carl wanted to make a joke about Shane but he stopped himself. "I trust him and hes nice. Him babysitting me wasn't that bad." He stared up at Rick, his chin pressing into his chest, smiling.
