This was unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. Carl thought as he sat on a couch with his arms folded over his chest, staring irritated into the air.

His dad, Rick, and your dad, Negan, had to sort some things out – and when Carl got the green light to come along, he hadn't expected he'd been pulled aside into another room, seated with Negan's kid. So 'the adults could talk'.

This creation of a human being was just like their dad, but more immature. Carl didn't like them to put it nicely. They had interacted a few times, and just from that, Carl didn't wanna be around them.

But here they sat, in Negan's office on the worn-out couch, waiting for the little rule meeting to be over. Carl had his sheriff hat low to avoid eye contact with the one eye he had remaining since the other got shot out. Stubborn and not even trying to make conversation.