Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Helplessness was a given in this horror show that was life, no matter how hard you try. Carl Grimes has learned that fast in his short life. Having society collapse due to a zombie infection gives everyone a hard lesson on helplessness.

Having to kill your own mother to bring your baby sister into the world is a perfect example of that. He can still see it like it's still happening. Maggie slicing Mom's stomach open, Mom screaming in agony then slowly dying on the floor in front of him, the gunshot that ended it all and the way he squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn't see her brains splatter on the ground in front of him (he still sees it, he sees it all).

Carl's breath hitches for just a moment before he forces himself to calm down. Right, Terminus and survival. Whatever that was worth anymore. You shoot your mom in the head to save your baby sister, then your sister gets eaten by zombies to the point that there were literally no remains, and survival is what anyone thinks about. What a joke.

"How hungry are you, on a scale of 1-10?" Dad asks, jerking him out of his spiraling thoughts.

His stomach tightens at the mention of eating. "15"

Michonne smiles coyly, "28"

"Yeah," Dad says dryly, "Well, it's been a while. I'm gonna go check the snares."

"Can I go with you?" Carl perks up at the prospect of doing something besides being hungry and miserable.

"Well, how else are you gonna learn?" Dad looks to Michonne, "hey, you too. We'll stay another day or two, get some more rest."

"Finish healing up?" She points out.

"I'm almost there." He says as he starts walking into the woods towards the snares.

"We're close now?" Carl asks.

"To Terminus?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah," Dad replies, carefully looking around the woods.

Nervously, Carl feels himself asking, "When we get there, are we gonna tell them?"

"Tell them what?"

Carl suppresses a sigh, "Everything that's happened to us. All the stuff we've done. Are we gonna tell them the truth?"

"We're gonna tell them who we are," Dad says vaguely.

"But how do you say that? I mean," he starts, watching Michonne and Dad's body language change. "Who are we?"

The rest of the walk is silent as everyone contemplates the conversation. It isn't until Carl's being shown how to make a simple trap that anyone speaks again.

Then, the lesson is completely cut off when a scream for help pulls Carl to his feet in an instant. For some reason, he has to stop himself from screaming Judith's name, and that thought has him running to the source of the terrified cries, despite Dad whisper-yelling at him to stop.
He sees the man in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by at least a dozen walkers. No no no no, we can't lose anyone else.

Dad grabs him before he can shoot his gun, holding him firmly in place. Carl tries to break out of his fathers grip on his arms, struggling silently in his grip. The man's screams grow from scared to anguished as the walkers tear into his flesh. Carl feels sick, did Judith scream like that?

Eventually, they have to run like they always do - some of the walkers saw them, and they're running back through the woods and onto the train tracks where more walkers are eating a corpse of some kind. They immediately turn and run down a nearby road until they find a car that is mostly inact and decide to camp there for the night.

They all stay silent as they cook the rabbit and eat it, all tense and on guard. As soon as soon as he finishes, Carl decides to try and sleep some. Might as well savor the rest he can get, right? He situations himself into the front seat of the car they are using as a shelter and quickly drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

All too quickly, Carl is pulled out of his sleep to a thud against the window right next to his head. Oh god, a herd surrounded the car.

Opening his eyes, Carl is surprised to find not a swarm of hungry undead but instead... a hungry looking fat man? Instinctively, Carl shifts away from the gaze of this strange man. Where the fuck is Dad? He looks out the front window to see Dad and Michonne with their hands hovering in the air slightly, fury and confusion across both their faces, and a group of men alk holding guns to them. Fuck.

A man who is clearly the leader yells something and starts counting down and the dread in Carl's stomach doubles. He looks over to see the fat man watching him in glee before his attention is caught by... by Daryl? Daryl suddenly emerges from the darkness and starts telling the leader to stop. "You want blood, take it from me, man." He says, throwing his crossbow to the ground.

Carl barely had a moment to be happy that Daryl is somehow still alive when the leader starts yelling, "It's a lie! A fucking lie! Tech him fellas, teach him all the way."

The men not holding guns to Michonne and Dad rush to Daryl, tackling him and beating him relentlessly. But Carl doesn't have time to focus on that because the car door is opening- fuck.

A hand grabs him by the hood of his jacket, yanking him out of the car, hard. "Come here boy!"

Carl desperately tries to scramble away but one arm wraps around him, the other presses a knife to his neck and he can't move, terror slowing him down. He flinches as the man presses his nose into his hair and inhales deeply. What the fuck?

"You're so fucking cute, you have no idea what fun we can have with you." The man whispers into his ear in a low, deep voice that forces a deeper, more primitive fear into Carl's stomach that he's never felt before and he feels sick.

"You leave him alone!" Dad yells, his anger poorly masking his fear.

The group's leader chuckles and starts yelling about being reasonable mem, Carl doesn't really catch what he says except for what he says at the end, "first we'll have the girl," No, don't hurt Michonne. The leader's voice gets deeper, "then the boy-" No. Oh God, no. "then, I'm gonna shoot you and then we'll be square!"

Immediately after, Carl is roughly shoved to the ground and he cries out as he tries to scramble away but the man is kneeling over him and pinning him down with his hands. No. No. No. No. No.

He thrashes in the man's grip and for a brief moment he sees the mans knife on the ground right next to his head. I just have to-

The man grabs his wrists just as Carl is about to grab the knife, his knuckles scrape against the blade. "Quit yer' squirming!" The man jeers like it's all a joke and one of his hands goes between his legs, grabbing him roughly.

Carl almost screams but he bites his cheek so it comes out as a whimper, struggling more in the grip as the man unbuttons his pants- no, god please no, not this- and flips him onto his stomach. Carl bites the inside of his cheek even harder, tasting blood but refusing the urge to beg the man to stop. He knows that he won't and Carl doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of his fear.

A gunshot goes off but Carl barely registers it.
He desperately reaches for the knife again, his arms flailing to find anything that can be used to get the man off of him but the man is so much larger and stronger that he's absolutely helpless.

A hand gropes his rear and he whimpers again. There is absolutely nothing he can do. Nothing. Everything is moving too fast for him and when the man pins his face to the ground with what feels like all his weight, Carl stops struggling. He's exhausted, scared and impossibly outmatched. All Carl can do is lay there as this random guy he had never seen before starts to unbuckle his own belt, his laughter echoing in his ears. Nonononono-

A horrid, wet sound snaps Carl out of his daze. The man lets go of his head, startled by whatever just happened, and Carl looks over to see his dad getting sprayed with blood on his face, and even more pouring from his mouth because- Holy shit. Dad just fucking ripped that guys throat out with his mouth.

Michonne is the first to react, spinning around as she grabs the gun from the man behind her and turns it around on him, killing him quickly.

The man assaulting him quickly stands, picking Carl and grabbing the knife with him, threatening to kill him. "Let the boy go!" Michonne yells, Carl can see her shaking.

"He's mine." Dad growls, gore dripping from his mouth. He looks like a walker.

The man immediately shoves Carl away from him. Michonne catches him before he can hit the ground and holds him close to her, trying to shield him from what happens next but Carl strains his neck to see it all. He sees his dad stab the knife into the man's groin. He sees him drag the knife all the way up to his neck. He sees him start stabbing his chest over and over, even as his moans of pain slowly stop. He sees it all and all he can think is how badly he wants to kill the man himself.

"Carl, hey buddy. You good?" He hears Daryl ask as carefully as he can, stepping into his view and keeping his hands very clearly in view, movements deliberate.

The teen jerks out of Michonne's arms as he's pulled out of his shocked state. He feels himself nodding, wanting to respond but nausea hits him like a truck. He tries to clamp his hand over his mouth but the adrenaline rapidly leaving his system saps all his strength with it and suddenly he's shoving himself further from Michonne and he's throwing up on the ground next to him. He doesn't see the worried glance Daryl and Michonne share as he wipes his mouth with the back of hand and clears his throat. Dad doesn't seem to notice as he continues to stab the man repeatedly.

A sudden hand on Carl's back causes him to flinch slightly. He looks over to see Michonne kneeling next to him, her wide in horror and concern. "Come on, we should head in." Her voice is tight as she glances at Daryl for a moment and Carl can see her hand that's not on his back shaking slightly in her lap.

Fuck.

Afraid to try and speak, Carl silently nods as his mind starts to process what the hell just happened. He looks over to where Dad is still stabbing the man, the pure rage and murder in his expression highlighted by the blood and moonlight. Carl's stomach churns again, but he swallows down the urge, already feeling guilt for throwing up what little he ate already.

"Carl." Michonne says softly, starting to stand and gently pulling the kid's arm, prompting him to stand with her and go to the car.

Gently, Michonne guides Carl into the backseat of the car and climbs in right after him. The silence is almost deafening. Carl pulls his knees close to his chest. "He... he was trying to... he tried to..." Carl whispers, his voice hoarse from screaming. He looks over to Michonne, who stares at him with an unreadable expression. "He was trying to take my pants off."

Michonne swallows thickly, her eyes wide.
"I- I don't... were they going to..." Carl starts, his mind trying to piece together what happened.

When Glenn and Maggie were rescued from Woodbury, Dad sat him down and told him that under no circumstances will he touch a woman without her permission. He also said if anyone touches Carl, ever, to tell him immediately.

"He was going to... he grabbed my..." The teen shutters and looks away from Michonne for just a moment before looking her in the eyes, "he really meant it when they said they were going to have us, didn't he?"

Michonne shuts her eyes tightly and is silent for a second. A shaky "yes"  is all she gets out.

It feels like someone both lit Carl on fire and dumped a bucket of ice onto his head. All the teen does is curl in tightly on himself, pulling his knees even closer to his chest, as the weight of tonight hits him even harder. Hands pinning him down, touching him everywhere. The man's horrible laughter. Carl can't do anything but lay there and try not to scream as the sound of a belt buckle being undone behind him gets burned into his ears.

"Why?" He whispers, his voice shaking. Oh god, he's crying. "Why would they want to-" His throat tightens and he gags before he can finish his sentence, disgusted and horrified. He burries his face into his knees as silent sobs start to wrack his whole body.

Michonne stares at the kid shaking in front of her, using every ounce of her willpower to not hug Carl close to her and never let go. He's so young. Too young for all of this. He's seen too much and now... now this happens. She clenches her hands tightly in her lap, wishing she knew what to say, how to fix this. But she can't. This isn't something you just fix.

She has to try though, right? If not for Carl's sake, then her own. She could never live with herself if this kid she's somehow become best friend's with over the past few months had to pick up the pieces and put himself together alone. Hesitantly, she hovers her hand over his back and clears her throat, getting Carl's attention without asking directly. He doesn't tense up or shy away so slowly, carefully, she sets her hand on his back and starts rubbing circles with her thumb.

Much to her surprise, Carl leans into her touch and eventually shifts right next to her to the point he's pressed against her side, still shaking with quiet sobs. "Oh, Carl." She whispers before moving her arm around his shoulders, hugging him without trapping him.

Minutes pass and soon Carl's shaking stops and his breathing levels out as he fully leans against Michonne's side, exhausted. Eventually, she figures that he had cried himself to sleep. With all the grace and care she had used on Andre before... everything, Michonne slowly adjusts Carl so he's laying his head on her lap and is laying somewhat comfortably. She softly lays her hand on top of his head, holding her panic and own tears at bay.

Tonight is going to be seared into her mind for the rest of her life, the way that monster had pinned Carl down, the way Michonne had braced herself for someone to come behind her and begin their assault. "Don't worry, you'll get yours soon enough." Echoes in her ears, and she has to force herself to suck in a breath before she spirals into a panic attack of her own. She has to worry about Carl, he's more important right now. In an attempt to both calm herself and soothe Carl, she finds herself carding her fingers through his hair, and that's how she sits for the rest of the night- tricking herself that this is enough and that she's enough and that everything will be okay, even if she knows that it's a total lie.

Chapter Text

The thing about being on the road is that you don't really have time to think about what's happened. The hunger, the walkers, the fear, it doesn't really give you a chance to dwell on what happened. You have to look forward, or you'll die. So much bad shit happens daily that you can't really afford to remember the bad shit that happened yesterday.

The next day moves in a chaotic blur, and Carl has literally no time to think about what happened to him on the roadside. Even when he and Michonne talked in the woods, he had to keep a level head. They didn't even talk about what happened. Just about what his dad had done afterward. He didn't have time to freak out. The quartet - Daryl, Michonne, Rick, and Carl - make their way to Terminus. They stop in the woods before to hide a bag of weapons. "Just in case." Rick tells the group, the caution and wariness in his eyes highlighted by the bags underneath and the blood that still stains his mouth and beard in dried flakes.

They make it into the settlement by sneaking in, and instead of being attacked immediately, the unthinkable happens- they're welcomed in. They get frisked (and if Carl tenses up and his mind momentarily goes back to the side of the road, he hides it perfectly because he is not thinking about it) and escorted to the main entrance where a woman hands them cooked meat of some sort.

Carl is still sniffing the plate, trying to make out what exactly he's about to eat because it smells so off yet familiar, and he just can't figure out, then a hand smacks the plate from his hand. Dad. Immediately, Carl pulls out his gun as his dad holds his own gun to a mans head as he asks roughly where the hell he got that watch from. It's then Carl sees the watch. Glenn's watch.

From there, it gets worse. More tense. Less time to think, more time to do. Dad and Gareth- the acting leader of all the people around them - exchange words, but Carl knows where it's going without listening. The governor pops into his head again, the image of Hershel being decapitated in front of him plays out again, and Carl holds his gun tightly, ready to fire at the first person who moves.

We need to kill these people before they kill us.

They must have the same idea, too, because it becomes a full warzone in moments. Bullets spray from the rooftops where snipers sit, from the people in the yard, from everywhere. Carl turns to his Dad, closely following behind. He can't be separated, not here. Not like this.

They run, weaving through buildings and dodging bullets the whole way. They make it to what looks like an old gymnasium thats just covered in candles and cryptic writing that Carl doesn't bother reading, though Daryl sounds absolutely bewildered and pissed reading it outloud. This place is a bust, none of this matters now.

"These people, I don't think they're trying to kill us." Daryl hisses.

"No. They were shooting at our feet." Dad responds, and Carl thinks of the snare trap his dad had shown him yesterday. We are the rabbits in this.

More gunfire erupts, and they're moving again, running from the creepy-ass room past various fences, buildings, and traincars. They make it to a fence, and they're about to hop over when people stand up from the bushes behind said fence. Carl looks around and realizes that they planned every fucking step of this. There's snipers positioned on the rooftops around them. Gunmen stand in allyways between the building. They're cornered. They're cornered, and they can't do a damn thing about it.

Gareth saunters over, looking almost bored. Like this was just a normal day to him. "Drop your weapons!" He commands. "Now!"

Unsurprisingly, nobody makes any move to drop their weapons. Gareths face twitches in annoyance. "Now!" He yells again, this time frustration bleeds into his voice. The gunmen on the roof take aim and the silence is think in the air for a moment. Then, slowly, Rick sets his gun on the ground and everyone else follows suit reluctantly.

"Ringleader, go to your left. The train car, go." Gareth barks out, continuing when Rick looks at him like he's the biggest dumbass on the planet for trying to get him to go without his son. "You do what we say, the boy goes with you. Anything else, he dies, and you end up in there anyway." Ricks hands clench and unclench as he looks at Carl then slowly, he walks over to the train car Gareth so nicely pointed out.

"Now the archer." As Daryl walkes over, and Carl feels even more exposed. "Now the samurai." And when Michonne leaves his side, Carl practically feels naked in front of these people. Like every movement he makes is getting scrutinized and one wrong acrion will get him and the last three people he cares about killed.

Once Michone makes it over Gareth yells out another command. "Stand at the door, ringleader, archer, samurai, in that order."

"My son!" Rick barks out, Carl can see the fear in his father's eyes from where he stands (god, he's so close but so fucking far).

"Go on, kid." Carl can practically hear Gareth roll his eyes as he allows Carl to walk across the cement to the rest of his family. "Ringleader, open the door and go in."

Rick hesitates, watching his son fearfully. "I'll go in with him."

Gareth sighs in annoyance. "Don't make us kill him now."

Rick swallows deeply and pulls the door to the train car open. He looks at Carl one more time before stepping in, Daryl and Michonne following behind with just as much worry in their eyes for Carl.

It feels like it takes years as Carl makes his way to the train car. He can practically feel the guns pointed at his head and, once again, just like he did the night before, Carl feels like the weakest link. They could shoot him right now, do anything to him, and there is nothing he could do back.

Carl suppresses a shudder as he steps onto the train car, he made it. The door slams shut behind him, and immediately his dad's hand is on his back, silently checking him over.
And if he feels Carl shaking like a leaf (how could he not), he doesn't say anything.

A familiar male voice from the dark has the four of them all looking up. "Rick?"

Its Glenn. He, Maggie, Sasha, Bob and four other people step out of the darkness to Carl's disbelief. Rick's words are practically ripped from his head. "You're here." He stares at all of them incredulously. "You're here!" He repeats again, this time with a tinge of relief to his voice.

Rick looks over to the group of new people behind them. He locks eyes with a pale girl with dark hair, and she quickly looks away. Scared. Maggie looks at her, then looks back at Rick. "They're our friends." She insists.

"Yeah?" Daryl says to his right, "Well now they're friend's of ours."

"For however long that'll be," a burley redheaded man pipes up pessimisticly.

"No." Rick growls, his voice raspy from so much yelling the past few days. "They're going to feel pretty stupid when they find out."

"Find out what?" The redhead speaks again.

Rick looks at the train car door, testing it to see how locked it is before looking back at the entire group. "They're fucking with the wrong people."