Bitter & Sweet (A Carl Grimes Fanfiction)

3

Rick was pacing; he was making everyone in the crate antsy. They were already on edge since Carl had been taken, but none more than Rick. He had fought so hard, done unspeakable things, to keep his only son safe. Then he'd let him walk out into hostile territory, alone. What had he been thinking? He should never have let him go. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, "Anyone?" He stopped pacing, searching the faces of the prison group and their new allies. They either remained quiet, or shook their heads. So far, nobody had been able to come up with a reasonable plan. They were stuck, nothing to defend themselves with, no foreseeable way out. Rick had known that Carl wouldn't be able to help them from the outside, that wasn't what made him agree to let him go.

He'd let him go out of fear. Fear that they really would start firing their guns if they refused, fear that Carl would have been killed right then and there. Rick believed the voice when it had promised to open fire; he had recognized who the voice had belonged to, the same person who had greeted them and who hadn't batted an eyelash when his fellow man was shot right in front of him, Gareth. He just hoped that he was telling the truth when he said Carl wouldn't be hurt. So far they were all still alive, that had to count for something. He prayed that they had a policy of not hurting children. He prayed for his son's safety and for a plan. From the back corner someone spoke up, "Well, I have an idea, but I doubt you're gonna like it." Rick scanned the area, Bob stood up. Rick was grateful, "Try us." Bob sighed heavily, "Well..."

Carl was no longer sobbing uncontrollably. His tears came much quieter as he tried to avert his gaze from the Walker in front of him. She had been alive, he didn't know how long ago, but she'd been a victim of Gareth's too before she'd died. Carl didn't want to end up like her. Knowing it probably wouldn't do any good, he tried anyway, "Please." Gareth, still in a daze shook his head, "Sorry, what was that?" Carl hiccupped, wiping his nose on the arm of his sleeve, "Please, I just want to go back to my Dad." Gareth was silent for a moment. Carl was about to try pleading again when he was whipped around to face an angry, crazy eyed, Gareth, "You're never going to see your dad, or any of the other's locked up in that crate, again. You're mine. I've already marked you and if I ever hear you say that again I'll do worse than bite you."

Carl couldn't help himself. He had to know, "Why? Why me?" Gareth blinked at him, "What do you mean?" It's not that Carl would have wanted anyone else to take his place, but he rephrased his question, "Why did you pick me out of everyone?" Understanding, Gareth shifted his weight, pulling Carl off of the floor so that he was standing, facing him, "That's real simple Carl, you were the easiest. Kid's always are, easy to control, easy to use as leverage. You were perfect."

As if a switch had been pressed, his face suddenly contorted into rage as he spat, "Until I get tired of you, you're mine. Do you understand? Do you?" Carl nodded, dropping his head down in defeat. Gareth brushed a piece of his hair aside, "Good. Now say it." "What?" Carl asked. "I. Want. You. To. Say it." Gareth enunciated. Carl shook his head unsure, "I-I'm yours?" He felt a hand rest on the back of his neck, not forceful, merely resting, "That's a good boy. I think you earned yourself some water." Carl was lead, more gently this time, back to his own kennel. Gareth bent down to retrieve the bottle of water and, in that moment, he was no longer touching Carl.

The idea of bringing his knee up and into Gareth's face floated into Carl's mind. He could do it, use all of his strength and then get the keys from him. It was a huge risk though, too big considering he didn't know which key unlocked the door. There were no guarantees that Carl would be able to get the door open before Gareth recovered. It hadn't taken him long to recover from Carl's head-butt. Did he really want to risk it? It didn't matter; in the split second that Carl had mulled over his choices, Gareth had already stood back up. Carl had lost his chance, whether he would have taken it or not, he didn't know.

Gareth unscrewed the top and put it up to Carl's mouth, tipping it slightly to pour the liquid out. It wasn't cold, but it was refreshing. Carl drank greedily, feeling a bit of the water slip out of the corners of his mouth as he gulped down a quarter of the water. The bottle tipped away from him, Carl let out a noise of protest that earned him a cool stare."Get in." Gareth ordered, gesturing to the kennel. Carl did; making the same slow progress as he had when he'd come out. "Now turn around." Carl had trouble, but he managed to rotate himself so that he was back facing the entrance.

Gareth produced a pocket knife, making him flinch and lean back against the cage. Gareth gave him that same charming smile that he had on their arrival, "Don't be scared. Stick out your hands for me." Carl hesitated, but thrust out his arms, both hands balled into fists. The knife slid between his wrists before flicking up, releasing him from the zip tie. Carl hadn't noticed that his hands had begun to turn purple; he could barely feel them at all. Gareth pocketed the knife, a motion Carl carefully watched. If he had known about the small weapon he would have attacked Gareth, then he could have taken the knife and stabbed him. He didn't want to think about how close he could have been to freedom.

He was going to pull his hands away, but Gareth took hold of them, massaging and squeezing them. Carl didn't complain since it was bringing the feeling back into them. The circular pattern he was using would have felt nice if it had been anyone else doing it. Gareth leaned in, bringing his face closer to Carl's hands; he could feel his warm breath on them. In a flash, Gareth had brought Carl's wrist up to his mouth, nipping him lightly. Carl blanched, snatching his hand away, pulling it to his chest protectively. It didn't hurt so much as it startled him. "You're a toy kid, a chew toy." Gareth laughed at his own joke, a laugh Carl didn't join in on. He glared at Gareth; Carl hated him, more than he hated the man who had tried to do that to him.

Gareth held out the bottle once more to Carl, letting him take it in his own hands. Carl drank about half before the bottle was pulled away from him, making it spill onto his jeans. Gareth wagged a finger in front of him before closing and locking the kennel's door, "Don't get greedy now, you have to share." He started whistling, a tune Carl didn't recognize, as he walked over to the occupied cage next to Carl's. Carl flinched again when Gareth abruptly kicked the cage, "Time to wake up sleepy head."