Fix You ! Cegan

I

It was past noon when Negan got curious and wandered back to find his kid. He hadn't seen a single sign of him around the Sanctuary this morning, which meant Carl, shockingly, must still be sleeping- which wasn't like him at all. The end of the world apocalypse thing meant less sleeping in and more kicking ass. Despite the fact that Carl was a teenager he generally slept extremely lightly. Drove Negan crazy, actually- half the time he wasn't sure if the kid even slept at all. Just another one of things that must have gone haywire in the kids brain over the past few years. Sleeping meant vulnerability. So for the kid to still be passed out at noon- well, it was a rarity. Possibly worrisome. But Negan pushed the thought to the back of his brain as he entered his room.

He found him exactly where he had left him, 6 hours ago, in their too comfortable-for-their-own-good bed. The only thing different about the kid from the last time he saw him was that Carl now had the comforter pulled over his entire head, despite the fact that it was hotter than hell in the room. How he was still sleeping like that he had no idea.

As he approached the bed he sang out "Go-o-od morning sunshine! Or should I say good fucking afternoon? Considering it's noon, and all." He expected Carl to stir at this- nothing. So he continued on. He had never seen Carl sleep like this- it wasn't exactly conducive to the "trust no one' environment he had been raised in to have a fucking comforter over your face with no idea what or who was coming to murder your ass.

"Look, I know last night was fun, and I probably wore you out, but it's time for you to get that perfect ass out of bed." He waited, smiling to himself at his smugness. Nothing. Not even a stir. Negan huffed, feeling himself getting slightly irritated now. He didn't like when Carl didn't play into his shenanigans.

"Well what, are you dead? Didn't think I fucked you that good." Another chuckle. Still Nothing. Okay, now he was really irritated. Or was that worry. No, definitely irritation. Negan didn't worry about anyone but himself, after all.

He walked a little closer to the bed, raised Lucille, and poked him gently. Nothing. Another poke, this time a lot harder. Nothing. Negans brow furrowed, feeling his annoyance turn into concern. Was the kid actually dead? He glanced around the room, his grip on Lucille growing tighter suddenly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, besides the not stirring Carl and the fact that the comforter seemed to be smothering him to death in hell's furnace.

"Seriously." He said, more firmly this time. "Cut the shit, its time to get up kid." Yeah. That was worry in his voice. Fuck this kid.

He grabbed the comforter, forcibly pulling it down. Except he didn't get very far. Carl had a death grip on it, and pulled it back up over his head as fast as it could be pulled down. It took Negan by surprise, who breathed out a sigh of relief he didn't know he had been holding. Well. At least he he wasn't dead. Which in turn meant he was just being a little shit. Fuck this kid.

"What the fuck shit is wrong with you? You didn't hear me, or feel Lucille fucking poking at you? She's not something you should ignore, ya know?". Silence.

Then, finally, from under the comforter- "Do. you. ever. Shut. the. fuck. Up?" Carl said in a quiet but angry voice and Negan could literally feel the glare that Carl must have been throwing him with his eye. Again. Fuck this kid.

"Ah!" Negan said triumphantly throwing an animated hand up into the air, for no one to see of course. "It speaks! It lives!". He slid one knee on the bed, setting Lucille down and putting a hand on Carl through the comforter. He tried to pull it down again, slower this time, testing.

"Everything all good under there?" he said, peering over the comforter with his eyebrows raised like he was looking at a zoo creature that may or may not be ready to rip his eyeballs out. Carl didn't stir. "Be great if you shut up for two seconds." Carl mumbled. Negan shifted back a little, sighing, his eyes widening as he rubbed his forehead, trying not to lose his shit on the kid.