The footsteps entering the cell's room only made Negan groan. Day in and day out, Rick or one of his other men would come in and watch Negan. Some insulted him. Some cried. Some stared. No matter who it was, it was annoying. Negan kept his back to the cell doors, his body facing the wall his bed was pressed against. When the person didn't speak, Negan decided to take it upon himself and do the job.
"Staring is rude, ya know?" When they didn't reply, Negan continued. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and assume that it's you, Rick."
A voice that sent chills down Negan's spine replied. "Guess again."
Negan shot up in his bed and whipped around. He couldn't breathe. With white knuckles, Negan gripped his sheets and stared forward. His heart beat so loudly that he was sure everyone within a hundred miles could hear it. His heart hadn't beat this loud and this fast since Lucille. He could feel his heart in his throat as he shivered again. He had to be dreaming.
"You're dead." Negan said, his eyes on Carl. His Carl. The Carl that died two and a half weeks ago and who had been buried just as long. "You..." Negan shook his head. "You're dead."
"Guess again." Carl smiled, tilting his head to the side. "You can't think a little bullet is going to get you out of this, right? We're a team, Negan." He took a step towards the cell and Negan pressed back against the wall. "This is your fault."
“No.” Negan didn't sound as strong as he wanted to. His reply came out in a weak whisper, while he blinked, his eyes still on Carl. This wasn't real. “I didn't know you were going to get hurt. I wasn't the walker that bit you. I didn't even know where you were.”
“Your bombs could have killed me. All the fire and weapons. I thought you loved me, Negan.” He wasn't as tan as his Carl was. His fingers were thin and pale as they stretched through the bars and reached for Negan. “They could have killed women and kids, too. Since when did this become about winning? Since when was losing me worth all of this?”
Negan swallowed, looking away from Carl. It hurt to look at him. Rick made sure to keep any reminders of Carl away from Negan. He said their love was sick and that Negan didn't deserve to see his boy. “His” boy, as if Rick knew Carl like Negan did. “I… its not, Carl, but I didn't kill you. A walker did. And I wasn't the reason you were out there. That doctor you saved was. He's the reason you got killed.”
“Quick to blame the man who saved you.” Carl noted, his thin fingers twisting around the bars and shaking them. “If it wasn't for me, you would be dead right now.”
Being dead didn't sound too bad to Negan. In fact, for those two weeks Negan had hoped and prayed that one of Rick’s men would snap and kill him. Maybe leave a weapon where Negan could get it. Rick was right, as much as it panned him to say, being alive was much worse than dying. “It's your fault.” He whispered. “If you weren't so fucking-”
“Kind?” Carl tilted his head to the side. “Nothing has changed. You still love to blame everyone, Negan. Hell, you're blaming me for my own death. I was saving someone when I got bit-” He pointed at Negan. “And you? You nearly died over a petty war. You're just as self centered as you were when I died.”
Negan ignored the pain that shot through him as Carl spoke. “I'm not blaming you. It wasn't your choice, but you were always so fucking careless with your own life. All you wanted to do was save other people, but never yourself.”
“Didn't know wanting to help innocent people made me careless?” Carl rolled his eye. “Do us both a favor and stop talking. All you're doing is digging yourself into a hole.”
Carl always said that when they would fight. No matter the topic, Negan would always manage to make things worse by speaking. Whether he was snapping or making up excuses and explanations, he always made it worse. The only difference today was that Carl would smile when he said it. His Carl would smile. This one just stared at him, his lips pressed in a thin line.
