Author's Note: This was inspired by 'take the long way around' by RogerRabbit on Ao3. I loved the premise, wanted to see more of it, and the rest just kind of happened. Please be sure to check out their fic!

Carl's appearance is based on Chandler's appearance in season 8, so this AU does not follow the canon timeline. Carl's disappearance has also changed other events. Carl loses his eye in a different way, Daryl isn't taken hostage by Negan, certain people that should be dead are alive and vice versa, etc. This is intentional and not an oversight. Be forewarned, there will be a lot of foul language, mentions of rape/non-con, and violent situations because...well….Negan….

Chapter 1

There, kneeling in the dust, with Lucille lingering a few feet above his head, is Carl's father.

At first, he thinks he's imagining things. The last time Carl has seen his father, he was in a coma, slowly bleeding out from a gunshot wound. The idea that Rick Grimes had somehow survived under such circumstances, when the end of the world had taken down so many stronger, healthier people, had never even occurred to Carl. Yet there he was. Bearded, grimy, with unkempt hair and nearly feral eyes, but clearly recognizable. It was him. It was Dad.

Yet, if Rick recognizes Carl, he doesn't show it. The man is far too focused on Negan, who's wearing his usual shit-eating grin. Carl's hold on his weapon wavers, but he doesn't allow anyone to see. Calling attention to their relationship in front of a crowd, dealing with this now will only make matters worse, and will only give Negan leverage. Carl has seen this go down enough times to know that Negan revels in belittling the leaders of the towns he takes over. Negan won't kill Rick unless he has to.

That's what Carl tells himself, at least, but he still eyes the way blood drips off Lucille after she's chosen her first victim. His mind is going a mile a minute, and he's trying to figure a way out of this. A way not only for his Dad to survive, but to stay safe. For them to be together again. He can't think of one.

So he stays quiet. When the others aren't looking, he even takes off his trademark hat, tucking it into his pack as nonchalantly as he can. Nobody seems to notice. Even as one of his father's men steps out of line, even as another one of their group has their head bashed in, he stays quiet. Even as Negan drags Rick off for their 'talk', he stays quiet. He holds his breath as he waits. The quiet is driving him mad.

There's a chance that Rick will survive whatever Negan has planned for him. As disappointed as Carl is by the fact that his father doesn't seem to notice him, or possibly even recognize him, he knows that waiting for this to blow over is the best chance they have. If his father survived this far, he has to survive another few days. He has to. And Carl has to stay quiet.

"What crawled up your ass, lil deputy?" Dwight snickers at Carl's nervousness. Carl freezes, forcing himself to shrug. He can't allow his anxiety to get the best of him, but he's cursing the old nickname. Most of his father's people are too devastated to notice, too emotionally exhausted to pick up on it, but Carl catches the hunter eyeing him with hatred in his eyes. That hatred fades, replaced by something else entirely as he examines Carl more closely.

"Usin' child soldiers, now?" The hunter mocks, but his voice is weak. His asian friend still lies dead merely feet in front of them, his brains leaching from the hole in his eyesocket. The asian's pregnant widow is sobbing. Carl sets his jaw.

"Ain't no kid." He spits, shuffling to the side. Some of Negan's men chuckle at this, but Dwight nods in appreciation.

"Trust me, if you'd seen the things he's done, you wouldn't think he was just a kid, either."

They're quiet after that. His father's group is too traumatized to say anything else, and if the hunter wants to say anything else, he thinks better of it as he stares at the two friends still lying dead on the ground.

Every minute stretches into an hour, but Carl lets go of the breath he's holding as he hears a familiar rumble. Negan's back. He waits, and finds a bloodier version of his father being shoved back into the execution circle. Carl is conflicted. He knows his father is the man that's been the thorn in Negan's side, and any man that could take out an entire outpost is a worthy opponent. But Negan has done what he does best, and the man in front of Carl isn't the fierce warrior they had encountered in the woods, nor is he the affectionate, protective father-figure Carl remembers as a child. This man is trembling, sobbing, and broken.

And so, Carl leaves his father the way he found him. Kneeling in the dust, his friends reeling as they sit in the execution circle, several among them dead. But Carl lets out a sigh of relief. Even if his father didn't recognize him, even if his father is in danger, for the time being, Lucille is being carried away from him. And for now, that's enough.

A week later, Carl accompanies Negan to gather the tribute.

Carl doesn't know exactly why Negan relishes in having him on the collection team. Something about Carl's appearance, about the stark contrast of his youth and the numerous scars he's accumulated seems to shock the communities they encounter. Carl doesn't understand why. There are people missing limbs left and right from walker bites, a kid with a missing eye isn't anything to go calling home about, but it's effective. As long as Carl keeps quiet, as long as they see that even the children in Negan's group are warriors, his presence accomplishes whatever it is that Negan's after.

But now that Alexandria isn't distracted by having their friends lying dead in front of them, their stares are more evaluating, and he finds himself ducking away from their gaze. Especially the hunter's.

He is still baiting his breath, still praying to anyone that might be listening that Negan doesn't remember Carl's last name. He's just been 'Patches' or 'Lil Deputy' for so long, most of Sanctuary doesn't even know his first name. So far it works. So far, nobody has made the connection, not even Rick. And Carl uses that to his advantage.

While he's perusing the perimeter, he sees a girl scurry hurriedly into a house. Some of the Saviors are sprawled out, but the majority are in the collection area, and nobody else seems to notice her. When Carl finally finds where she's run off to, he finds what she's hiding. Inside the house is a nursery, and inside the nursery, the teenage girl is shushing a toddler. When she realizes she's been followed, her eyes widen, and for a moment, she reminds Carl of a deer looking down the barrel of a gun.

"I'm not going to hurt you unless you try something." Carl grunts, keeping his voice low. "What's your name?"

The girl stares blankly for a moment, still wide-eyed, before answering.

"Sophia." Sophia is pretty, and Carl's face reddens. It's been a while since he's seen someone his own age. What's more than that, she looks familiar. But he doesn't have time to figure out why. He knows why she rushed in, he knows what she was trying to hide, and it wasn't guns.

"Negan doesn't hurt babies." He murmurs, shaking his head as he walks away. As he makes to leave, he realizes that the hunter has followed him, fury and alarm in his eyes. He's defending the girl, Carl realizes, and wonders idly whether she's his daughter. But it's clear from the man's confusion that he's heard Carl's last words. He doesn't say anything, instead moving to put himself between Carl and the girl. He doesn't need to, because Carl recognizes the utility belt tossed in the corner. Its insignia matches the one stitched into the hat that's tucked in his pack.

This is his father's house. This is his father's baby.

His eyes widen, now mimicking Sophia's.

"Shit." He grits his teeth, looking out the window. Negan is still goading Rick about something or another, but Carl knows how Negan works. He's going to want to go to his Dad's house at some point, to make his father feel violated, like nowhere's safe.

"He's going to come here. Can you hide the crib?" He asks, and Sophia stares dumbly in response. He huffs in irritation. Daryl blinks at him, but is quicker on the draw.

"I'll grab it, put it in the attic. Say it was the previous owner's, if he sees." Carl nods curtly at the redneck before turning back to Sophia.

"He doesn't hurt babies, but he'll use her against him. You better pretend she's yours." For a split second, he idly wonders whether she is the mother, before thinking better of it. Even in the apocalypse, he can't imagine his father being that kind of man.

"Where's the mother?" He asks, trying to shove down the hope in his voice, but neither one of them respond, still uncertain what to make of the young savior.

"Dead." Daryl retorts gruffly, and Carl finds his heart sinking. He doesn't know if the mother is Lori or some other woman his father has screwed somewhere along the way, but the truth of it all hurts, all the same. His father replaced him, just like Carl had replaced Rick. Carl served Negan now. Who was to say Rick even wanted him, anymore? Especially if he knew everything Carl had done? Everything that Carl had become?

Carl nods curtly, catching a glance at his reflection in the house's mirror as he does. It's been ages since he's seen what he looks like, but he realizes why his father doesn't recognize him. With his long hair, lengthened jawline, and the patch and scars sprawled over half of his face, he looks nothing like the version of himself in the crumpled school photo he still has tucked in his pocket. He convinces himself that it's for the best, and leaves before the two Alexandrians can see the tears that are beginning to well in his eyes. He walks out in time to hear gunshots, and races towards the scene, unsurprised that the commotion appears to be happening at the armory. The situation is over before he even gets there, but his arrival doesn't go unnoticed.

While Negan is illustrating some point or another to a horrified crowd, he grabs Carl around the neck, ruffling his hair as he jokingly keeps him in a fatherly hold. In front of him, some teenagers his own age stare at them, their eyes wide and jaws slacked as they take in Carl's appearance. The teens look sheltered, like something out of a magazine you would see of what life was like before the apocalypse.

"And then this fucker strolls in, his balls not even dropped yet, and manages to kill four of my men before we managed to calm him down, WHILE half of his face is blown off. See, we recruit people like him. People like Patches here are useful. If he can manage to be one of my best shots with only one fuckin' eye, I think your boys can handle a few measly rations, hmm?"

He's out of Negan's grasp now, and the leader has moved on, but he still can't breathe. Because Rick is blinking at him like he's noticed him for the first time, and given the circumstances, it's very possible that he has. But if he recognizes who Carl is, he doesn't say it, and instead sporting a somber, horrified look on his face. Carl's heart sinks. The very reason Negan makes a point to bring him to these things is now working on his own father. To remind people how dangerous Negan is, how dangerous even the weakest people at Sanctuary can be.

Carl keeps his eyebrows scrunched, hoping to conceal his features underneath his bangs and long hair. He prays Negan continues to use 'Patches', 'lil Deputy' had always been more of Simon's nickname, anyways. As he predicted, Negan escorts Rick to his house, and Carl watches from afar, shuffling his feet as he does. He had seen Sophia take the toddler out of the house, so he's not afraid of her being discovered there, but it's still possible that Negan might notice baby items, bottles, or something else that the frightened girl had left behind. There's a reason Negan's been their leader for this long. He's as smart as he is strong.

As Carl waits, he hears something he never thought he'd hear again and stops in his tracks, wondering if he's imagined it. But there it is again. A whinny. Beyond the walls, a horse is nickering. He isn't the only one that's noticed. The other men begin to get upset, thinking that the Alexandrians are hiding livestock now, but Carl hops up the walls, seeing the roaming animal beyond. It's feral, unbrushed, and thin. Their story checks out, it's just a wild horse they've been trying to tame. A nervous, clean-cut man tries to keep his voice calm as he explains. Aaron, he said his name was.

"She always runs away. I call her Buttons, but I've never been able to catch her. You can try, if you'd like. I think she's afraid that if she gets too close to us, we'll get her killed."

Carl knows the feeling.

A few adventurous saviors try it, but fail miserably. Carl doesn't know how they thought it would work. They would have to lure the horse like Negan had lured Carl, with promises of safety and food. Running blindly after the animal had just startled it away, and Carl hopes that the saviors' stupidity hasn't forced the horse into a horde.

"Too bad," Dwight grins, unzipping Carl's pack as they make to leave. Rick is elsewhere, looking after his people, but the hunter is back, eyeing their interaction with interest. In fact, it seems like ever since his encounter with Sophia, the hunter won't stop watching him. Dwight pulls out Carl's hat, playfully stuffing it on top of the teen's head. "Would have been cool to see the lil deputy riding a horse."

Carl freezes, grabbing the hat and stuffing it back into his pack. Dwight rolls his eyes, spitting chewing tobacco from the side of his mouth.

"Shit, no reason to get your panties in a twist about it. Thought you loved that thing?"

"Just gets in the way."

"You look like a girl without it. Ought to cut your hair soon, boy, or ya gonna die a virgin." Carl scowls at Dwight as they leave, thinking that the other long haired man is one to talk, before turning around to take one last look at the town his father is trying to protect. Is this place really worth it? For any of them? His father is walking up, but doesn't appear to have heard their conversation, a dazed look in his eyes as he watches the other saviors load into their vehicles. But the hunter's eyes pierce into Carl like he's seeing right through him, and Carl shifts from side to side under his stare.

"What are you lookin' at, asshole?" He growls as deep as his voice will allow. The hunter doesn't respond, and Carl piles into the jeep, knocking the door twice to let the driver know they're loaded up, that they're ready to go home. But suddenly, Sanctuary doesn't feel like home. Carl's not sure anywhere does, anymore.

Negan doesn't accompany them to the next pickup, instead dealing with some sort of issue at Hilltop. Despite the drama, Hilltop has been scared into submission for a while now, so Negan has Carl assigned to Alexandria's pickup, instead. But before he leaves, Negan orders Carl to take off his eyepatch for the job, to really drive the point home.

Carl hates leaving his eyepatch off, but tries not to let it show. His face feels naked without it. He's not afraid of looking ugly, he gave up on his looks a long time ago, but displaying the wound openly has always drawn stares. He's been able to hide beneath his hat's rim, behind his hair, and behind the bandages for so long, he feels bare without them even in Sanctuary, nevertheless in Alexandria.

The pickup goes smoothly, which is surprising given that Simon's leading it. Simon's always been rougher around the edges than Negan, and not nearly as smart about it. The pickup, like the last one, isn't done at the expected time, so Carl isn't surprised when he sees Sophia scurrying off, no doubt off to hide the toddler again. If his father was smart, he would make the baby live with someone else until this tides over, but the older man doesn't seem willing to part from his new family quite yet. Carl hopes it doesn't get him killed.

As predicted, his appearance draws stares, but the effect on the Alexandrians is more profound than it's ever been anywhere else. Outside of Rick's immediate circle, it's obvious the other people here are weak and sheltered. If they looked at him in horror before, holding an AK-47 while Negan was ruffling his hair, they're absolutely terrified of him now. Carl notices one of the teens from before putting himself in front of a teenage girl he doesn't recognize, who rolls her eyes at his attempt to protect her. Carl doesn't mind, he respects the other boy's need to protect the people he cares about, even if it's a stupid attempt. It's not until the boy clumsily goes for something bulging in the front pocket of his pant leg that Carl treats him like a threat.

Carl has shoved a knife at the other boy's neck before he even knows what hit him, and the gun the boy had been reaching for clatters to the ground. A single gunshot goes off in the scuffle, and now that the boy is snugly in his hold, Carl glances around to make sure it hasn't strayed and hit any civilians. It hasn't.

The men come running, both Saviors and Rick's group. Carl angrily kicks the offending gun underneath a nearby porch, shoving the boy's face against the wall several times before releasing his hold.

"That's how you get people killed, asshole." He growls in the boy's ear, striding back towards Simon with his hands clenched. Simon hasn't arrived in time to notice the stray gun, and Carl realizes that the only people that had a good look at the altercation was himself and the two teenagers.

"What the hell is goin' on?" Simon demands, scowling. Carl shakes his head.

"Idiot tried to jump me, didn't like me gettin' too close to his girl. Had to scare 'em to keep 'im in line." He turns to Rick, making sure to speak as loudly as he can so the teens behind him can hear the story. "Whatever you think about Negan, he doesn't allow us to get handsy with the women. Keep your fuckin' people in line, or the next bullet will go through his head."

The adrenaline from the situation, of the cover story, is beginning to wear off, replaced by the fear that Rick will somehow recognize him without the bandages. His fear isn't too misplaced. Rick can't stop staring at him, but whether it's because he's figuring him out or he's figured him out, Carl can't tell.

Damn it all to hell, for his Dad's sake, this pickup has to go smoothly. Negan has to turn his attentions elsewhere, rather than getting obsessed with Rick as his new toy to dominate. If Alexandria is going to stand a chance, Negan has to think they aren't a liability. He has to lose interest. Rick glances towards the Alexandrian boy nervously, suspiciously even, before turning back to Carl. He doesn't say anything, and Carl manages to assuage Simon's temper, who seems amused that the teens are policing themselves.

The rest of the pickup goes without a hitch, but Carl still can't help but feel guilty at how little food Simon has left behind in the pantry. He wonders if Sophia will eat tonight.

For whatever reason, Negan puts him on Hillside for their next pickup. Supposedly, Dwight and Simon are impressed by Carl, and are even recommending to make him a full-fledged Savior soon. This would involve having his back branded with an N, something Carl isn't particularly looking forward to. He had hoped to stay out of sight and out of mind, but he keeps having to interject himself into situations in order to save the Alexandrians' sorry asses, and he's miraculously come out looking like the perfect little soldier each time.

Like when he finds the asian's widow hiding in a Hilltop closet. The same widow his Dad said was dead and buried.

He'll never forget the look on her face the night her husband's face was bashed in, or the sound of her screams. They mirror the faces and screams he's heard so many times before, but the fact that she's a friend of his father rubs salt in the wound. A black woman hiding with her, another Alexandrian, shoves him back before he has time to think, and there's a struggle that they don't have time for. He can hear one of the other Saviors, Willie, coming to see what the commotion is about, and he manages to shove them back inside the closet and slam the door before Willie walks in.

"Everythin' ok? Heard a bang." His guns are out, his eyes wild. Willie isn't particularly smart, but he likes shooting things, something Carl very much did not want him to do right now.

Carl leans against the closet door, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He's never been a fantastic liar, but playing the part of a stupid teenage boy seems to work every time. He picks at his edge of his gloves anxiously.

"They're….uh….was a mop."

"A mop?" Carl is beginning to think that 'Willie isn't very smart' was an understatement. Because as confused as the other man is, he doesn't look suspicious at all, merely amused.

"They had shit piled in there a mile high. Tripped over a crap ton of it. I'll let them clean up the damn mess themselves, dumbasses."

He walks into the hallway just as Simon, Gregory, and Jesus approach. He can see the fear in Jesus's eyes, and Carl narrows his eyes at the Hilltop men. Gregory has been a stooge, little more than a puppet, for some time. But instead of Negan calling all of the shots, Carl is beginning to think Jesus is. And with a nickname like Jesus, is it really that surprising?

"Kid's just a damn klutz, boss. Nothin' over here." Willie says dejectedly, looking rather bored.

"Never took you for a klutz, lil deputy." Simon chuckles, cocking his head to the side. "What did you do with yer damn hat?"

Carl shrugs, staring Jesus down. The two have met before, but this is the first time the other man has seen his face without his eyepatch. The older man doesn't seem to even flinch.

"Gets in the way." Carl murmurs, refraining a wince as he hears the slightest of noises in the closet behind him. Nobody seems to notice. Nobody but damn Jesus, whose lip gives the slightest of quivers at the movement.

"Damn shame. What are we gonna call ya, then? Can't call you 'Deputy' or 'Patches', anymore. Don't got no hat, don't got no eyepatch. Hell, what even is your name?" Simon chortles, and Willie lets out a big belly laugh.

"Shit, boss, even I know that. Charlie, right?" Willie guesses.

"Nah, that ain't it. Starts with a K, don't it?"

"If you can guess it 'fore we get back, I'll give you one of my protein bars." Carl offers breezily, hoping the conversation will blow over before anyone hears. They make it to the gates before Simon gets it right.

"Damn. I still think I like 'Deputy' better, 'Carl' makes ya sound like an old man. Need to start wearin' that hat again, kid, don't look right without it."

Jesus watches him as they load up. If Carl didn't know better, he would have thought that the man was giving him an appreciative nod in the rearview mirror as they leave. The road ahead seems to visibly narrow before his very eyes, and he wonders just exactly what he has gotten himself into.