Author's Note: Just a little something that had been in the back of my head since the end of 2x07. I hope you guys like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own TWD. And this has angst, violence and drama. Enjoy!
Redemption
Rick was not handling this world well, and everyone and their grandmother could see it. He wasn't meant to be living in a world that was so hard, so cold and so different. But he was still alive, and his family was alive, and his group was alive. He wasn't made for this, but that wasn't stopping him from surviving it. And he was, and he was keeping that group of people who look at him as though he was their savior alive. They were his flock, his sheep, and he was their shepherd. As misguided as he felt, he had sworn that day in camp when the Walkers had attack them that he would protect this group of people, no matter what.
It didn't take him long to realize that to protect each member of that camp, they had to be treated differently. Every single one of them needed a different form of help. When it came to Glenn, Rick found that the best way to protect the young man was to let him speak his mind. Glenn would be willing to do anything for this group of people, but he needed to be heard first. Glenn was treated like a kid playing dress up, which was ridiculous. That kid was brilliant, and he deserved to be heard. So Rick made sure that Glenn was heard, and the kid felt stronger. Felt like he was part of the group, instead of watching them make their decisions.
Daryl felt protected when Rick showed his trust in the man. And Rick did, the youngest Dixon brother had more than proved his merit to their group. He had been feeding them for the longest time, and he'd sacrificed more than anyone in the search for Sophia. The hunter's excuse for the injuries was that he'd 'ha' a littl' fall.' But according to Hershel, it had been so much more than that. And he was sure that getting shot in the head probably hadn't been great either, but Daryl hadn't seemed to care very much. He was almost in high spirits, and Rick was damn near positive that it wasn't just from the painkillers. It was from the trust that himself, and the rest of the group, had laid out for Daryl Dixon. He felt welcome, and that made him feel safe. All Rick had to do was trust him, and that meant letting him run around doing whatever. But Daryl felt protected by the woods, and the shadows. So as long as he was safe, Rick was doing his job.
It was hard to protect Shane, because for a very long time, Shane had protected Rick. In fact, Shane had protected Rick up until the day that Carl was born. Once he had held his son in his arms for the first time, Rick had been smacked across the face. Reality hit him so incredibly hard when Carl looked into his eyes. He had to protect his son, above everything else. Above himself, above his wife and above his job. Every move he had to make, had to be for his son. So Rick began to protect himself, and his family, and after a while, this massive power tilt happened between Rick and Shane. Until, one day, Rick was the one driving the police car, and Shane sat shotgun. Suddenly, Rick was in charge, and Shane let himself be taken care of. That was how Shane felt protected, when he believed he was allowing it to happen, so Rick allowed the man to travel off the leash, trusting his friend to stay by his side.
Lori felt protected, when she didn't need protecting. Lori was a southern woman, through and through. And she felt her safest when she was living her life normally, so Rick let her take care of the other women, let her wander around the camp as if she was merely taking a stroll in a park. Lori was in charge of taking care of the other women, and the children didn't stray far from that. It seemed almost logical that the women of the camp would take care of the two children. They all loved Carl and Sophia, and the farther away they were from the danger, the greater chance of survival for humanity was.
Rick didn't get much time to think about the future, but when he did it wasn't graduations and grandkids anymore. It was a secure area, and maybe a home. It was similar to what Hershel had, but the house was much bigger, and it had room for the entire group, and they didn't fight, because they had nothing to fight about. No matter where the location was though, there were children. They needed the kids to grown up and have their own kids. After a while, the Walkers would decay into nothing and the humans would be left to try and rebuild everything. But they needed humans to be able to do that. The kids were so damn important, and Rick went out of his way to make sure that they were always protected, and he would do anything to make sure they were safe.
And that they were happy. He wanted them to be happy, because they'd had so much change for them anyways that he wanted to make fucking sure that they had a good life now. Even if it mean a random piece of candy every now and then, or a new pair of shoes. Rick would do anything for those kids, and he'd believed that the entire camp agreed with him.
Then, Sophia had walked out of that barn, groaning and staggering, the dried blood on her body still somehow shining. It looked so incredibly wrong, and it was all he could see. They had failed her, and failed her so completely, and no, they needed to do right by that little girl.
The shot belonged to Carol, as her mother, she deserved that much. But when Rick looked at her, she was a mess. Being held down on the ground to prevent the woman from throwing herself into a suicide she'd gladly welcome. All Carol wanted to do was hold her daughter, not be the one to put the bullet in the brain.
If Rick was to be honest, if Carol wasn't able to, then the shot belonged to Daryl. He'd become nothing more than the ultimate big brother during this experience, and he'd given everything he had for that little girl, to the amazement of the campers. No one really understood why, but Rick had a few guesses. When he'd sat at Daryl's beside while Hershel stitched the man back together, and Daryl was pointing out where he'd found the doll, Rick's cop instinct was buzzing too loud to ignore. There were scars all over the man's chest, each of them screamed abuse. Daryl was a broken child, much like Sophia was, and Daryl just didn't want to see another kid like him fall through the cracks, or go unnoticed. So, Daryl deserved that shot, but when Rick turned next to Daryl, the man couldn't look away from the child, and his eyes were bright. Whether it was anger, or unshed tears, Daryl was too emotionally invested into that little girl. He wouldn't be able to pull the trigger, even if he wanted to.
Rick felt his feet moving, before his brain had decided he wanted to. This had to be done, not because Sophia was dangerous, but because that little girl didn't deserve to live like this. She didn't deserve to stare at this group of people and want to eat the ones who hat let her down. So he walked himself in front of Shane, and he pulled out the Python. He put her in his sights, and he finally looked at her again.
She moved slow, incredibly slow. Especially for a Walker who was faced with an all you can eat buffet. It was then that a second realization smacked Rick in the face. Sophia was an abused little girl, one that was never treated right, and she didn't trust people. She was scared of her own shadow, and even as a Walker, she was afraid to charge that group of people. Even though the majority of that group was frozen in shock. She didn't approach them. She was still scared.
She didn't need to be killed, she needed to be saved. How could he deny her that? How could any of them deny her that? She would forever be stranded like that, trapped in a body that would never stop being hungry, but a heart that was still so fearful. Letting her live this way would be so incredibly cruel. If they were human, like Hershel thought, then Sophia would be suffering more than ever. If she realized how much she wanted to rip the flesh off her mother, off Carl, then she would hate herself. And Rick couldn't let that happen.
So Rick pulled the trigger, and he saw the body fly backwards, and the silence settled around them in a suffocating matter. No one could speak, save for Carol's sobs. They were all staring at his back, Rick could feel their stares. They were all appalled by him right now. A sick, broken grin stretched across his face. They were appalled by him? Those hypocrites. They had just gunned down a mass amount of Hershel's people, but they couldn't deliver Sophia? It didn't make sense.
He blinked, and looked back down at Sophia, her blood painting the dust along the ground; she fit in with the other corpses. She was dead now and dead for sure. She had taken her final breath, and she had done in smelling nothing but flesh. Rick's legs gave out from under him, and he fell to his knees, arms holding himself up.
His mind was blank, and he couldn't think about anything. He could only see the blood, and hear the sobs. That was all that lived in his head now. He was just there, and he could only view had happened. There wasn't any future anymore, he couldn't see anything. There was nothing now. They had lost a child. He had lost a child.
He had lost Sophia. And he would never be able to repay that. To Carol, he'd never be able to look at her without being the reason her daughter was on the ground bleeding out right now. It wasn't a comfort to anyone, but as he watched Sophia bleed out onto the ground, Rick could feel his life draining too. There was nothing left. He honestly had nothing now. He felt nothing but shame. He killed that little girl, and he had nothing left. Rick's entire body was shaking and whatever hope he'd held onto before was dead. He was done. He wasn't made for this world. It was impossible to do right. Sophia had been ripped apart, and that wasn't something he could ever fix. Something he would never forget. Becuase it had been him. He had lost Sophia.
And he could only hope, that with that bullet, he'd been able to make it up to her for condemning her to that fate in the first place.