Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1976595.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Walking_Dead_(TV), Walking_Dead
  Relationship:
      Carl_Grimes/Canon_Male_Character, Carl_Grimes/Unknown, Carl/T-Dog, Carl
      Grimes/Glenn_Rhee, Daryl_Dixon/Carl_Grimes, Rick_Grimes/Carl_Grimes
  Character:
      Carl_Grimes, Rick_Grimes, Glenn_Rhee, Theodore_"T-Dog"_Douglas, Daryl
      Dixon
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, Rape_Aftermath, Underage_Sex, Gay_Sex, Prompt_Fill, Implied/
      Referenced_Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-23 Words: 2514
****** Unknown ******
by RickGrimes
Summary
     Prompt: At the prison, Carl is raped during the night. At first he's
     scared and uncomfortable, but then he begins to enjoy it. The next
     day he tries to figure out who did it.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Carl was a sound sleeper which is probably why he didn't awaken as soon as the
intruder crawled onto his bed. By the time he was even aware anything was
happening, his pants were down. At least they might've been. Carl wasn't really
sure. He was in a daze. The sleep and fear mixed in his brain, creating a
cloudy uncertainty. He wasn't sure if this was even real. The boy was so
terribly exhausted he could barely even keep his eyes open to identify his
visitor. He hadn't even been sure if he was feeling a guy or a girl until he
felt the head of someone's cock nudging at his ass. He was at least coherent
enough for that.
"Go back to sleep," reached his ears, and he tried desperately to try and
identify the voice. Did he detect Daryl's drawl, or Glenn's soothing whisper?
T-Dog's voice, or maybe Rick's? His dad's? Carl couldn't figure it out even
though he was attuned to the men’s voices.
He registered somewhere in his half-consciousness that he should be terrified,
or at least concerned. Maybe he should try to fight back or say something. His
limbs felt heavy as if he was still paralyzed from his body's dreaming state.
Carl's head was cloudy, and he actually started to fall asleep again. His body
wanted to return to sleep, not bother with the threat of potential rape. He was
so deep in sleep that he didn't really care what was happening. He felt almost
drunk.
"Good boy," the voice complimented when Carl's eyes closed once more. He
vaguely wondered if he'd been drugged so that he'd stay under, but he doubted
it. He didn't feel the haze of medication, just exhaustion. It hurt when the
anonymous man forced his way into his ass. Carl cried out quietly--whimpered.
"Please," he was able to rasp out.
"Shhh."
After a while the pain dulled and Carl found his boy rocking with the motions
of the man's thrusting. He didn't mean to, but it felt good to move like that.
He knew he shouldn't be feeling good. This was rape.
"Fuck," the voice groaned in his ear.
He was almost disgusted with himself when he came, dick untouched. The man's
gasp sounded surprised and pleased. Carl was still in a fog. Barely registering
what was happening anymore. He'd barely even noticed his orgasm, his body just
doing what it thought was best. Running on auto pilot, but not completely
unmanned, since he knew he liked it. Carl'd had enough control of his body to
feel the cock in his ass and to know that he enjoyed the way it dragged in and
out of him. The man had been gentle and quick. He didn't like the wetness in
his ass or the emptiness when his attacker pulled out. He was already falling
asleep again anyways though.
"Goodnight, Carl," was the last thing he heard before everything went
completely blank again.
 
When Carl opened his eyes the next morning, he didn't feel the pain right away.
It took a second for it to reach him, crashing into him like a wave. At first,
he didn't understand. Why would his ass hurt? And then a nagging in his mind
told him all he needed to know. He sat up carefully and peeked under the
blankets. Carl felt himself gently, checking himself over to confirm his hazy
memories. When he felt the soreness of his ass intensify under his touch, and
he felt the wetness of the come in his ass, he knew for certain.
"Oh fuck," he thought. He put his head in his hands. He was confused and
ashamed. How in the hell had he let himself get raped in the night? He couldn't
even identify the man. Who was it? He raked his brain for the memory of the
voice. He thought, trying to remember if he'd seen a glance of the person. All
he had was their come and the injuries they'd caused. He turned red, despite
being alone, when he remembered how he'd responded. How could he even call it
rape when he'd...liked it? He needed to talk to someone. That thought was
deemed useless when he realized that more than half of his options were gone.
He could talk to Carol, Maggie, Beth, or Hershel. He was even skeptical of
Hershel, but he knew that if Hershel was the culprit it would've been obvious.
Carl tried his best to think back to the night. Did he feel the scratch of a
beard? The graze of a certain material? A certain timbre in the voice? He
couldn't recall for anything. His only hope of finding out who it was would be
looking all of his fellow group members in the eye in assessment. How could he
do that without revealing himself? He was scared. Would Glenn, Daryl, T-Dog, or
his dad come back? What if he accused the wrong man or was forced to explain
what he was doing? So many things could go wrong. What he dreaded most was
catching the right one and receiving a degrading smirk. The thought made him
itch with anger. But, again, what could he do if he'd liked it? That would be
the first thing they'd use against him.
Carl huffed in annoyance and made sure he was decent before exiting the cell.
He looked around warily, bracing himself for contact with the man he was trying
to find.
"Mornin', Carl," Rick said, glancing at him before looking back at Judith. "She
had a good night. Only woke up once."
The boy crossed his arms, staring at Rick. He felt extremely guilty for even
bothering with this. His dad wouldn't do anything like that, especially not to
him. But how well did he know any of the men he'd been living with.
"What?" Rick asked, looking genuinely concerned. "Somethin' the matter?"
"I'm...not sure," Carl said.
Rick furrowed his brow, "Let me know if you want help figurin' it out."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Carl asked defensively, looking for extra
meaning in his dad's words. Was that supposed to be a taunt?
Rick let out a rough breath of air, "Exactly what it sounds like. I'm here for
you, Carl."
Carl rolled his eyes. Even though he appreciated his father's support, he
didn't have time for this now, especially since he knew it wasn't his dad. As
if it would ever be Rick. Carl couldn't be too careful though.
 
Carl had a harder time with Glenn since he was with Maggie.
"Hey guys," Carl said awkwardly.
"Hey, Carl," Maggie said casually. As if she wasn't sitting next to a potential
rapist. A suspect nonetheless.
Carl stared at Glenn waiting for a response. Glenn just nodded at him. That was
odd.
"Did you guys sleep out here last night?" Carl asked, referring to the guard
tower. He didn't want to be pushy or obvious, but he needed to know.
"Yeah," Maggie answered, "Pretty much since right after dinner last night.
Why?"
Glenn still didn't say anything, staring at Carl suspiciously.
Carl didn't see any hints of recognition or smugness in Glenn's expression
though. What was his problem then?
"No reason," Carl lied, retreating with one last glance at Glenn.
The cagey behaviour wasn’t enough to condemn his friend, but it was odd for
Glenn to act like that. He couldn't tell if Glenn looked confused or annoyed or
guilty. He'd have to check again later.
That ended up being unnecessary when Glenn called after him when he was halfway
across the field yard.
"Carl!" He shouted, jogging up to the boy.
"Hey," Carl said skeptically.
"Sorry-"
"For what?" Carl interrupted. Was this an apology for the rape? Was Glenn
admitting to his deed?
Glenn laughed, "No for being rude. You just kind of caught us at a bad
time...if you catch my drift."
"What?" Carl asked, "Oh! Oh. Yeah, no big deal. Sorry."
"That's okay, buddy," Glenn said, turning away and jogging back to Maggie.
Could it have been Glenn when he was obviously in love with Maggie, who loved
him back? Their love life wasn't struggling, so why would Glenn need to do
anything with Carl?
Carl couldn't say, but sometimes people did things that didn't make sense.
Even after ruling out his dad and Glenn, he still wasn't closer to finding out
the real culprit. Maybe they'd been lying or acting. Or they have concealed
split personalities. For all he knew, Carol, Beth, and Maggie could be hiding
their true anatomies. Maybe it was a stranger. Someone sneaked into the prison
and got out undetected. Yeah, maybe it was a walker, Carl thought disgustedly.
 
Carl had to wait until almost evening before he got a chance to question T-Dog.
He’d watched him carefully whenever he could get close, but the man never gave
him a second look. Maybe that told him exactly what he needed to know. But
ignoring Carl could mean he was innocent or guilty. Not concrete evidence. Carl
was getting increasingly tempted to walk up to T and just flat out ask. “Did
you fuck me last night?” But that could get awkward, especially if it wasn’t
him.
The boy had no choice but to mark the man down as “innocent for now”. If it
wasn’t T-Dog, then was it Daryl? Carl began to feel nervous. Well, continued,
more like. He had mixed-feelings about the possibility of his rapist being
Daryl. He trusted that man with his life and considered him to be like a
father-figure and a comrade-in-arms. If Daryl had violated him, it would make
him an extremely poor judge of character. Sure Daryl was rough around the
edges, but not that kind of rough. He liked his privacy and he had a brusque
personality…didn’t make him a criminal. There was a side of Carl that almost
hoped it was Daryl. It was better than the alternatives and made the most
sense. Glenn was taken, T-Dog wasn’t his type, and Rick was his dad. Daryl
wasn’t bad looking per se either. Still. He needed to get to the bottom of
this. What would he do though once he found out? It wouldn’t change what
happened, and wouldn’t change the fact that he liked it.
 
“Daryl? Can I talk to you?” Carl asked, approaching the man hesitantly. He was
standing with his crossbow next to the gate. Always watchful. Daryl spent most
of his time outside watching and taking care of walkers, or by Rick’s side
discussing tactics. Carl doubted the man even came inside to sleep which made
his guilt less likely.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Something…happened,” Carl started.
Daryl eyed him, waiting for more explanation, “Somethin’ like what?”
Carl watched Daryl intently, waiting for a slip in his pretense. Nothing. Daryl
just looked curious and a little impatient.
The boy sighed, “Nevermind.”
“All right then,” Daryl responded, shifting his weapon, “You sure?” He tacked
on the last uncomfortably, as if he wasn’t used to pressing for someone’s
emotions. If someone didn’t want to say something, he wasn’t going to force
them, but if Carl was coming to him for advice, then he should listen.
Carl considered asking Daryl directly, just wanting to know if it was him, no
matter what happened. He wanted to shock the man so that he would be thrown off
his act—if it was one—and just admit to it. It would be difficult to hide the
truth under those circumstances. He thought of something else.
“Daryl have you ever fucked a guy?”
Daryl’s eyes widened, and he scratched at his head with unease. He worked his
embarrassed expression into a glare.
“I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’ about that kind of stuff. Not my place,” Daryl
said, settling on that direction instead of giving him an answer. Deferring to
Rick. As in it wasn't Daryl's place because Rick was his dad.
It was good enough for Carl. and if it had been Daryl, that was a pretty clever
answer. How could Carl argue with the man? Normally Carl would’ve never said a
word about sexual things to anyone, but this was important.
Carl nodded, “Okay.” He was about to walk away when Daryl recovered his casual
demeanour.
“Wait, you said somethin’ happened. What?”
“Not important,” Carl lied, scurrying away before he admitted anything to
Daryl.
If none of the men caved, then who the hell was it? Carl was beginning to think
he imagined the whole thing. Maybe he had to think of another plan besides
confrontation. He’d have to trick his visitor.
 
Carl couldn’t know for sure that it was going to happen again, and on top of
that, the night after the initial happening. Maybe whoever it was gained
confidence after the first time, and they’d come back again, knowing Carl
didn’t tell and couldn’t even figure out who he was. It was a gamble on the
attacker’s part since Carl wasn’t going to lie half asleep this time. He’d be
alert and waiting.
The boy went through the motions of preparing for sleep, saying goodnight to
everyone and doing his last duties for the day. He went to his cell and pulled
the sheet across to conceal his room. He put his pillow and a few odd clothes
under his blanket to form a body-like shape. Car waited, sitting on the floor
beside the doorway opposite the bed. If the man came in again and went to his
bed, Carl’d be able to see who it was and overpower him. Maybe Carl would
question him first, or just run out of the cell. What scared Carl the most was
that he wouldn’t do anything but lie back on the bed and submit willingly.
Carl was beginning to think Daryl or T-Dog or Rick or Glenn wouldn’t come. A
onetime thing, or maybe just a test. Perhaps it would never happen again or if
it did, not for a while. Carl’s back was sore from waiting so long on the
concrete. He wanted to crawl back into his bed and sleep, but he needed to stay
awake just a little longer to protect himself, or at least so he could know the
truth.
Carl flinched when he saw his curtain being pushed back. He walked in quietly,
going to stand over the bed and watch what he thought was Carl. The boy knew it
could be one of the four he named. He knew it and he still couldn’t believe
that it actually was. He wrung his hands together, wondering what he was going
to do. Now that he saw who it was, he couldn’t believe he’d missed it the night
before and that day during his questioning. Carl was frozen on the floor,
deciding between fleeing and staying.
His ruse was discovered and he didn’t panic. The visitor pulled back the
blankets and grunted in annoyance because Carl wasn't in the bed. The man
turned around to face him, hearing Carl rise from the floor.
“Carl,” he said.
Carl just smiled.
End Notes
     Who do you think it was?
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