Bitter & Sweet (A Carl Grimes Fanfiction)

16

Gareth angrily stormed in, all 4 heads popped up. Behind Gareth 2 other men in clear, plastic aprons. The kind you wear when you butcher farm animals, Daryl took note. "Your kid," Gareth pointed accusingly at Rick, "is a smart-ass. Also very stubborn, but don't worry I was strict, I showed him who's boss, showed him some discipline that you obviously never cared for." Rick glared, "what did you do to my son?" Gareth laughed, "not too much, he's still alive. I'm doing you both a favor and waiting awhile before I finish my debate on if I should kill him. I mean I don't know," he started to pace in front of them, smirking at each as he continued, "I don't want to lose another one of my toys."

Daryl sneered, "you sick bastard." Gareth stopped, turned slowly towards Daryl, "what you think...-" the unspoken word struck a nerve in 3 of them, "no no no, I did something much better," he pauses starting to walk back to the door, but turns towards Rick right before he closes it behind him, "for me at least." It's then when Bob first sees what's in one of the man's hands. Before he can react and tell the others, he too is knocked out by the big metal bat.

Carl was still leaning against the wall Gareth had slammed him against; he ran his tongue over his bloodstained teeth, flinching as the tip end of the meaty accessory made contact with the hard enamel. The bleeding had slowed substantially, but it was, surprisingly, the sorest part of him. His body throbbed and ached, but the sharp stinging in his mouth, markedly, outweighed the pain in the rest of his body. Like a small, insubstantial, paper cut out-pained a bruise, the slit in his tongue made the blows to the rest of his body seem miniscule. Not that he was too willing to test that theory. Since Gareth had left, he'd remained, largely, unmoving. But that position was too reckless to keep.

After he was sure his body was in a position to comply, he heaved himself off of the ground. His breath hitched as his ribs protested angrily against the sudden movement. He silently reassessed his condition as a shocking wave of pain rolled up from his right ankle once he'd put his full weight down. He concluded that his ankle was not broken, but sprained. As long as he compensated with his left side, he could manage. His ribs, however, were a little less willing to compromise. Every move he made seemed to cut his breath short. He found that wrapping an arm around them made it easier to breathe more normally.

He hobbled over to the girl who was, with wide eyes, assessing him for damage. Sheepishly he answered her silent question, "I'm okay." The sigh of relief she let out made him feel like a big jerk. He could only imagine how that little scuffle had looked from her perspective. He remembered how helpless he'd felt when Gareth had led her out of their room and he hadn't been able to do anything to stop it. Carl knelt down in front of her cage, "I have a surprise." She gave him a wary look. He understood. Gareth had a way of making the word 'surprise' a pretty scary thing. This one, though, she would like. He brandished the pocket knife, waving it around like a trophy, "We're getting out of here."