Hey guys, I had this idea for a one-shot and really wanted to write it. And, even though it's just a one-shot, I hope to convey the point! I really like Daryl and Dale, they are two of my favorite characters ever, and I hope I do the characters justice in writing this. Please let me know what you think! Any and all reviews are really appreciated! This story is from Daryl's point of view! I don't own The Walking Dead or the characters.
He was looking at me.
Going off on his speech, looking around the room for someone, anyone to agree with him. To take his side. He was looking at me. Looking to me to be the one. And, I had a feeling it wasn't just because he so desperately needed backup that he resorted to the redneck in the corner. I think he truly believed I would agree with him. That I'd be the one to take a stand. Be strong enough to step up. He believed in me that much. That sincerely. That completely. And me? I couldn't even look back at him.
I watched as he tried his hardest to convince us all. Harder than I'd ever seen him before. And it wasn't like I'd never seen the man get passionate, it happened pretty often. But this time, it was different. He put everything he had into making his point. He wasn't going to give up on what he believed. In a way, I guess he wasn't going to give up on us. And in a way, I guess he couldn't.
He was so positive we hadn't changed. That at least one of us had been spared from the obliteration of our old way of life. Shielded from the loss of our morals. From the loss of who we were. From the loss of ourselves. I guess he was so impassioned with the idea that we could stay strong, unscathed by this new callous way of life. Remain good natured people. Remain who we once were. Remain human. I guess he just wanted to believe it so deeply, so desperately. He couldn't accept it otherwise. Maybe he just believed in us too much.
He was so adamant, so sure. All he needed was support. And all he wanted was to convince any of us, one of us, to hold onto the humanity that had been ripped away with the rest of the damn world, torn to shreds, and destroyed. Well, not according to him. He saw it so clearly, it was so obvious to him. And, he was just as dumbfounded by the fact that it wasn't for us. The world had changed. And Dale hadn't gone with it. It had sure captured all the rest of us. Good or bad, it did. And we had changed. Been forced to.
But he was so certain, so confident that we had a choice. We could choose to fight back against the world. Choose to cling onto our morals, our ethics, our humanity. This way, and only this way, we wouldn't be destroyed alongside the world we once knew. We wouldn't let the circumstances tarnish who we were. We'd continue to be good people. People who had principles. People who had beliefs. People who were, well, people.
As I stood there watching him, I couldn't help but think he might be right. Maybe. I mean, no. Yea, he is right. That's the way it should be. We should be strong. We should keep our humanity intact. Live by a set of morals and ethics. Do the right thing. But, only thing is, I'm not sure there's room for all that in the midst of this new chaos. We can't save a man and protect the group at the same time. Or, maybe we can. I don't know. I do know it's important to survive. We can't jeopardize that. That wasn't a factor before. Survival. I guess we all just took it for granted. But things are different. And maybe, that's all the reason to keep this the same. In a world where everything else is changing, and for shit worse, maybe we should keep this the same. Maintain some kind of good in this place. Something of what used to be. Have control over at least that much. How we handle things, how we perceive things, what we choose to believe and to act on. That's more important than ever.
"So, the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime that he may never even attempt? If we do this, we're saying there is no hope. Rule of law is dead. There is no civilization."
I jerked my head up. This man always had the words. The exact words you needed to hear, at the exact moment you needed to hear them. I hated him for that. Liked him for it too. But, hell, it sure did make things more complicated. I sighed. Looked back down at the ground. I could tell he was looking at me. He thought what he'd said earlier would convince me. That just maybe he'd made me realize how I mattered or some shit like that. And, maybe he had. I don't know. Either way, I still couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes. And I hated myself for it.
I had been minding my own business, too. I hadn't asked for him to come to my tent. I hadn't asked him to come say all that about me. But he did, and now it was in my head. And, I didn't know what to do with it.
"Uggh. Whole point of me coming up here is to get away from you people." All I had wanted to do was get away, leave. Or, at least that's what I told myself. I think he knew it was a lie even before I did. He seemed to know everything all the damn time. And, I was actually starting not to mind it too much.
"Gunna take more than that" Why? He was so determined. He couldn't just let it go. Why did it matter so much to him? Why did I? Why did he refuse to just walk away? Everyone else had. Always did. Why did he care so much about me? Why was he willing to try so hard? I never gave an ounce to make him ever believe I gave a fuck. But he did.
"Carol send ya?" That woman. Yea, she'd gotten on my nerves. She cared too. I never asked for that. She just showed up. Got in my life. Started caring. Screwing with my emotions. All these people giving a shit about me. I never had that before. Part of me wonders when they'll change their minds too. Just like everyone else. Realize what a screw up Daryl Dixon is. Take everything back. Run away. No clue what made her believe I gave a fuck, either. All this blind trust, blind devotion. I'm not used to that. Not sure what to do with it, either.
"Carol's not the only one that's concerned about you, your new role in the group." There it was again. He cared. He really did care. And, not just like the way my old man did. Caring when he wanted shit. When I'd fetch him a beer or a cig. No. He cared. More than anyone had in my entire life. Deeper, more profound than anyone I'd ever known. I could tell. He'd shown more care for me in the six months I'd known him, than everyone combined in my life. Why? I barely knew him. He barely knew me. A few months ago, I was nobody to him. Why'd he care so much?
"I don't need my head shrunk. This group's broken. I'm better off fending for myself" Scares the shit out of me. All that shrinky stuff. People reading my behavior and shit like that. Trying to see why I do this. Maybe it just scares me cuz they seem to know more about me than I've ever shared. Maybe it's cuz I think I'm pretty good at hiding things, then they prove me all wrong by analyzing just one freakin' conversation. One action. Am I that easy to read? That's what the distance's for. Prevent them from telling me what, I guess, I already know. I just don't wanna hear it. But it doesn't matter. If anything, it only fuels them. Proves to them they're right. I guess I'm pretty bad at interpreting my own mind. I was serious about the group being broken though. It is. We're all in different places. Got different views. Different beliefs. We're falling apart. Crumbling just like everything else. Finally get close to these damn people. Open up a little. Allow myself to care. Then this happens. Reminds me why I like being alone. I don't need to see that happening. I can't do this. Not again.
"You act like you don't care" Act. He knows it's an act. Wouldn't doubt if he knew it all along, either. Probably knows why I do it too. Probably got all his own ideas about me. Wouldn't be surprised if they were all right. He seems to know everything about everyone. Even stuff we've never said out loud.
"Yea, it's cuz I don't" Lie. Biggest lie I've told in a while. Why? Why do I do that? Make them all think I couldn't give a fuck. So distant. So defensive. I know they ain't my family. Well, the one that despised me anyway. They are my family. In some weird way. I don't know. Maybe it's cuz I look at things too practically. Maybe this isn't the time to start caring. Not when the world is going to shit. Not when you're going to get so emotionally attached to someone and then watch them die the next day. It's not worth it. Not now . . .Or is it?
"So live or die you don't care what happens to Randall?" Randall. Little bastard. We wouldn't be in this situation if he hadn't jumped off the freakin' roof. Stupid. Makes a dumbass move and puts us all in position to question our own humanity. Our own beliefs. I wouldn't be in this mess if he hadn't been such an idiot. Why'd he have to get involved in our lives in the first place? Ass.
"Nope" Lie. Again. Yea, I was frustrated. No, I didn't know the kid. But I wasn't stupid, despite what everyone thought. I still knew what it'd mean to kill him. Knew what it would make of us if we let that happen. Who we'd become through either inaction or action. Either way it would show us something about us all. And, I wasn't sure I wanted to see it.
"Then why not stand with me, try to save the kid's life? If it really doesn't matter one way or another? He was so determined. So incredibly determined. He didn't want this kid to die. Not at our own hands. He didn't know him either. None of us did. But this kid would change our lives more significantly than perhaps any other stranger ever would. He would force us to choose who we wanted to be. Who we were going to be. Dale saw that. That's probably why he didn't want him to be killed. With this kid dead, so was our humanity. So was any trace of the people we once were. Killing him would prove we'd fallen to the ways of this new world. It'd be the point of no return. It'd be forfeiting all our righteousness, our moral sense. Dale saw that. And, the longer he talked to us in that living room, the more I started to see it too.
"I didn't peg you for a desperate son of a bitch" He wasn't. Or, well, he was. But he was doing it for the right reasons. He was willing to do anything, anything, to prevent this from happening. Go completely out of his way, do everything he possibly could. He would not falter. And he deserved more respect than he got for that. He was the only one of us who still felt this passionately about our old way of life. Maybe it was because he'd enjoyed it the longest. I don't know.
No, no excuses. No playing dumb. He was the only one brave enough. The only one brave enough to cling to a sinking ship. Holding it as it plunged into the depths of the sea. Because he knew it was right. He knew it was the right thing to do. And, so did we, in a sense. But we were scared. He wasn't. Or was. I don't know. But, if he was, he acted in spite of it. Holding onto this piece of himself was more important than anything. And, he'd certainly go down with it if that's what it took.
"Your opinion makes a difference" I almost stopped completely when he said this. Nobody had ever said anything like that to me in my entire life. What I thought didn't matter. It wouldn't change anything. So, I kept my thoughts to myself. I'd learned to. I'd adapted. And here he was, trying to convince me otherwise. I didn't know if that was possible. I'd been like this for a long time. Had to be to survive in a house with my father and Merle. I didn't know if he'd get anywhere with me. But, honestly, I appreciated him trying. The effort alone was more belief in me than I'd ever had. I should have told him. I guess it just freaked me out.
"Man, ain't nobody looking at me for nothin'" My default response. That's how it had always been. What I thought didn't matter. Nobody wanted my opinion. It didn't mean anything to anyone. And all of a sudden, it did? I didn't really know how to feel about that. I guess my first reaction was to deny it. It couldn't be true. But, hey, I guess anything can be true in a world where dead people are walking around.
"Carol is, and, and, I am, right now. And you obviously, you have, Rick's ear." Carol, yea. I have no idea in hell why. Dale, yea, he made that obvious. For whatever reasons he has, I'm not going to try to understand them. But Rick? No.
"Rick just looks to Shane. Let him." Rick looked to that bastard for everything. Not saying I want to be in charge, cuz I don't. But Shane was a mess. Falling deeper and deeper into bad water every day. I could see it. But, of course, Rick couldn't. Or didn't want to. Or maybe both. I don't know. The guy was his best friend. Why, I don't know. They seem so completely different to me. But, hey, maybe he'd been different before the world fell apart. Maybe that's what Rick still saw. I'd give him that much. But I hadn't known Shane before all this. And to me, it was pretty clear he was a douche. But if Rick wanted to live in that delusion, let him. Who was I to tear him away? He didn't even know me.
"You cared about what happened to Sophia. Cared what it meant to the group. Torturing people? That isn't you! You're a decent man. So is Rick. Shane, he's different." This time I had stopped. Bringing Sophia into it, that wasn't necessary. Yea, I'd cared about her. I'd tried to find her. But the hell of a difference that made. She was dead. After all that. Dead. It didn't matter that I cared. It didn't matter that I'd gone out looking for her every freakin' day. None of it mattered. Nothing I did mattered. She was still dead. So, why bother anymore. If it wasn't going to change anything? What was the point? Why care if it destroyed you? Why care when everything and everyone was destined to be ruined anyway? I wanted to let go. No, no, that's a lie too. I wanted to stay. I'd never felt like this before. Leave it to Daryl Dixon to wait for a zombie apocalypse before realizing how much I could care about people.
I wanted to be connected, despite the hurt it brought. Why? Why did I want to put myself through this? All for some disheveled bunch of people I'd just met? Lay everything on the line, my life, my heart, my sanity. All for these people? I knew the answer all along. Just didn't want to say it to myself. Cuz that makes it real. And, as much as I did care, I'm not sure I was ready to accept it. But, why? Cuz this disheveled bunch of people were the closest thing to a family that I'd ever had. And in the midst of all this chaos, I knew at least that much was true. Torturing people? No. I didn't like doing it. I didn't agree with it. That was always more of Merle's thing and I hated him for it. But when it came to protecting people, protecting . . . my family . . . . I would do anything. I'd stop at nothing. This guy? This Randall. All but confessed to me about raping teenage girls. Sick son of a bitch. I wasn't going to let that happen. Not to Carol. Lori. Andrea. Maggie. Beth. Patricia. No, not these people. Not anyone. And he deserved what he got. Few punches to the face. And my bloodied knuckles? All worth it. Worth it for those teenage girls. Decent man? I don't know. Compared to who? Merle? Hell, I'd like to think I was a decent man compared to him. More than decent, hopefully. That son of a bitch brother. Rick? He was different. Driven by this superior moral sense. He was a true stand up guy. I was nothing compared to him. But Shane? I hoped to hell I was a better man than he was.
"How's that. Cuz he killed Otis?" I knew Shane had killed Otis. Ever since he came back. Spitting out some dumbass story about how Otis had covered his ass from walkers. He hadn't fooled me. I could see right through guys like that. Had enough practice being around Merle's jackass friends. And it was something I was actually pretty proud of. He couldn't fool me. I wasn't buying it.
"He tell you that?" Shane ever confide in anyone besides Rick? Or Lori? I had my suspicions about the two of them too, but what difference would it make. Only kill Rick if I told him. None of my business anyway.
"Told some story. How Otis covered him, saved his ass. He showed up with a dead guy's gun. Rick ain't stupid. If he didn't figure that out, it's cuz he didn't wanna. It's like I said, group's broken." And there is was. I didn't see how nobody else had realized that. Shane walks in with Otis's gun, tells us how he died trying to protect him. With what, dumbass? Rick must have seen it. Hell, he gave that gun to Otis. He must have known. Or at least have known Shane wasn't telling the truth. I guess it all comes back to that blind trust thing. I guess it's what you have when you've got a best friend. Trust everything they say. Deny anything you don't want to know about them. Anything you simply can't let yourself comprehend about them. I don't understand it. But, hey, I guess if I had a best friend maybe I would. But we can't have this. This oblivion that shields Rick from Shane's actions. The oblivion that shielded everyone from his true colors. It was making us vulnerable. Vulnerable to attack. By one of our own. And if I was the only one to see that, these people desperately needed a smack in the face. It was causing us all to fall apart. Tip toeing around this thing, pretending it wasn't there when it might as well have been ripping through us. All this denial, this blind trust. It was going to get someone killed. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be me.
I was dragged out of my trance by the sound of Herschel's voice. I looked up quickly and looked around the living room for a few seconds. I had no idea how long I had been distracted for. Seconds? Minutes?
"Could you drive him further out? Leave him like you planned?" If only it was that easy. If only there was an easier solution. If only we could just drive him out, drop him off, and walk away. But, maybe he'd take a stand with Dale. Give the guy some assurance he wasn't alone.
"You barely came back this time. There are walkers, you could break down, you, you, could get lost" Lori was right. It wasn't worth all the risks. Just to go drop this guy off. To have him maybe come back and exact revenge on us. Did I think he was going to? No. Honestly, I didn't. I think the kid would have been so damn lucky just to leave alive, he'd let it slide. He wasn't interested in revenge. But that didn't mean his group wasn't. There were some crazy sons of bitches out there. Especially now. In a sense, I felt bad for the kid. Kept claiming he got mixed up with the wrong people. Knew how that felt. But that wasn't an excuse to do the things he did. And, we just couldn't risk it.
"Get ambushed" I added in. We'd seen it happen more and more frequently as of late. Somewhere we thought was clear, fine, maybe even safe. We'd watch it be spontaneously overrun by walkers. Thing was, we just never knew when they were coming. Where they were going to be. Or how many of them there were. We couldn't risk it.
"Yea, they're right. We should not put our own people at risk." Glenn understood. And out of all of us, I thought it'd be him. I thought he'd be the one to take Dale's side. He was a good kid. It was painful watching him so conflicted. He genuinely wanted to do the right thing. I think we all did. But him, it was clearly etched in every line of his face. Expelling out his eyes. It was hard to look at him.
"If you go through with it, how would you do it? Would he suffer?" And just like that the subject shifted. No longer was it about whether or not we were going to kill him, but how. I tensed at the idea. No, I hadn't been jumping at the chance to prolong the decision, put off the conclusion of death, but I felt this strange sense of tension once we were no longer debating. I guess I had taken some comfort in the fact that we were at least still talking about it. That it wasn't a finalized decision yet. But now, it might as well have been and my stomach lurched. Maybe it did matter to me more than I thought. I know it did.
"Could hang him, right? Snap his neck" Typical Shane. First one to jump in, probably been thinking about it, fantasizing about it all day. Sick bastard.
"I thought about that. Shooting may be more humane" I knew Rick didn't want to do this. No way in hell. But, he understood that he might have to. But, being the guy he was, if he couldn't spare this kid's life, he was going to make it as least painful as possible. And I respected him for that. I was grateful for that.
"What about the body, what do we do with it-" T-Dawg was getting a little ahead of himself. This kind of talk had me all nervous and I hadn't even cared. Or well, hadn't even shown that I cared. I couldn't even imagine how Dale-
"H-h-h-hold on, hold on, you're talking about this, like its already decided" And there he was. He was right. I knew he was. But he was also wrong. Right in the sense of what the decision should be. In the sense that we should have talked about it more. But wrong. We needed an answer. And we needed one soon. Even if it wasn't the desired one. Even if it wasn't the right one. We needed an answer. The longer we waited, the more danger we were in. We had to do something.
"We've been talking all day. Going around in circles. You just wanna go around in circles, again?" I said it more harshly than I had meant. I knew where he was coming from. I knew what he was thinking. What his rationale was. But, I also needed to show him that maybe what he wanted, maybe what he needed, what we all needed - to make the right decision - to do the right thing . . .maybe it wasn't a possibility. Not anymore. We needed to act. And we needed to do it now. He glanced at me, looked at me with those eyes. Those eyes so full of desperation and passion. So hurt, so determined, so pleading. He kept looking at me. Me. He thought I'd be the one. And, with this, I think he realized his chances were slim. It destroyed him. But, part of him still believed. He still looked at me. Still gazed at me with those eyes. I quickly looked away. He expected too much of me. What was I supposed to do?
"This is a young man's life! And it is worth more than a five minute conversation. Is this what it's come to? We kill someone because we can't decide what else to do with him? You saved him! Now look at us. He's been tortured. He's gunna be executued. How are we any better than those people that we're so afraid of?" He made perfect sense. Absolutely perfect sense. And, I think we all knew he was right. At least a little bit. To some extent. But it didn't matter. Not now. Not anymore. It wasn't a matter of convincing us he was right, he had done that. It was a matter of making us choose to do the right thing. And that's what the problem was. Because knowing the right thing to do, and actually doing it are too completely different things. One takes knowledge, intelligence, heart. The other, that takes even more heart, bravery, and courage. And I guess we were all lacking there. And I saw it. I saw how ironic it was. How nonsensical. How . . . sad. We weren't too afraid to take a life, but were too scared to save one. And that's what the world had come down to? That's what we'd come down to? It was shame.
"We all know what needs to be done" Jackass. Shane. So blunt. So unsympathetic. Yea, maybe we'd have to kill the kid. But it shouldn't be taken lightly. Shouldn't be some joke. We couldn't just kill him, no big deal. He was still a human being. And killing him would only make each of us less of one. I flicked my eyes to him angrily, harshly.
"No, Dale is right. We can't leave any stone unturned here. We have responsibilities-" That was true. Everything needed to be considered. We couldn't make this some rash decision.
"So what's the other solution? We haven't come up with a single viable option yet. I wish we could-" This was exactly it. Andrea was right. We had been talking all day. We needed another plan. If not killing him, then what? What were we supposed to do? But were we really just supposed to kill him because we couldn't think of anything else? We needed another plan. Another option. But, was there one?
"So let's work on it!" Dale was not going to stop. And I hoped to God he wouldn't. As painful as it was watching him struggle against us all, watching him being destroyed, completely let down by all of us, I wanted him to continue. Not because I wanted to see him shattered. No, I hated watching it. But, I hoped for him, that he wouldn't give in. I hoped for him, that he'd cling to his morals, his beliefs, his sense of self, for dear life. All the rest of us had given up. I hoped he never did. Hoped he proved how strong, how truly important these things were. Hoped he'd hold onto them, go down with them if he had to, just so he could know, that we could know, that I could know, that it was possible. It was possible to stay true to something so dear. Hold onto the best aspects of life, even when it cost you everything, even when it was going to emotionally destroy you, simply because it was the right, and it was, the right thing to do. I hope he never experienced that cowardice that we all had. I hoped he'd never be able to understand why we were thinking the way we were. That would mean he was corrupted too. And, I didn't want that for him. He was the last one. The last human one. The strongest of us all. And, I hoped he never faltered. Never fell victim to this world. Held his own, and continued to express those viewpoints we had all come to dispose of. I hoped he never lost what it felt like to care. I hoped he never lost the bravery to express the right thing to do. And I hoped he never lost the courage it took to do something about it, the way we all had. He deserved more than that. He was the best of us. The absolute best. And I hoped for him, and probably for the sake of all of us, and all of human race for that matter, that he'd continue to be so passionate about it.
"Stop it. Just stop it. I'm sick of everybody arguing and fighting. I didn't ask for this. You can't ask us to decide something like this. Please, decide. Either of you, both of you. But, leave me out." Carol had been quiet all day. Well, quiet all the time actually. Ever since we found Sophia. But when she spoke, people listened. And, she had a point. But none of us asked for this. None of us asked for the world to go to shit either. To lose some of those whom we loved the most. To be on the run, trying to constantly evade dead people walking around trying to attack us. Or to be hiding out in some old man's farm house with people we barely knew. Let alone having to make a life or death decision regarding some kid. Nobody wanted that. But life wasn't about what we wanted anymore. Most of the time it wasn't even about what we needed. We couldn't even satisfy that sometimes. It was just about surviving. We'd all had to do things we wished we hadn't. We'd all seen things we wished we hadn't, wished we could wipe away. But this was it. This was the world we lived in now. And this is what we had to deal with. None of us had asked for any of it. But we couldn't change it.
"Not speaking out, or killing him yourself, there's no difference." And suddenly it hit me. Yea, I knew all along that if we didn't do anything the kid would die. If nobody said anything, he would be killed. But I realized for the first time how significant a part we each played. One person, just one, had caused this whole debate. Dale was one person. He disagreed, he voiced his opinion, it mattered. It caused this to happen. It spiraled into a decision. One person. Speaking his mind. It made a difference. It really, truly did. It could change everything in a heartbeat. Just one person. It made me wonder, what if there were two . . .
"Yea, alright, that's enough. Anybody wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance" This was it. Here. Now. It did matter. It would make a difference. One person's actions. One person's thoughts. Maybe two. Maybe three . . .
"You once said that we don't kill the living" Dale's voice was starting to weaken, the desperation was pouring out. But, I clearly remembered Rick saying that too. Probably because it was my head the gun was pointed at. But still. He had been right then. There weren't enough living people in this world anymore. We couldn't go around killing them. In a fight against the dead, it made no sense to kill the living. What had changed?
"Well, that was before the living tried to kill us" True. Very true. But was death the answer? Killing an enemy, in this day, would only create another one. A worse one.
"But don't you see, if we do this, the people that we were, the, the, world that we knew, is dead! And this new world is ugly, its harsh, its survival of the fittest. And that's a world that I don't want to live in. And, I don't, I don't believe that any of you do. I can't! Please, let's just do what's right. Isn't there anybody else whose gunna stand with me?" And with that, he cracked. The tears were filling his eyes. His voice was unsteady. We all knew how much this meant to him. I knew how much this meant to him. For the first time, I looked up at him. He was looking right back at me.
"He's right. We should try to find another way." Thank God. Andrea agreed with him. I knew it wouldn't be enough to change the course of things. But it would be a consolation to Dale. He would be able to know he changed at least one of us. His efforts had been worth it. They weren't a total loss. And, he deserved that. I just wish I could have given him more.
"Anybody else?" Rick knew, just as much as the rest of us, that that'd be it. But I think he desperately hoped, like we all did, that someone else would say something. Just nobody wanted to be the one to say it. Nobody wanted this to happen. Nobody. That much was clear. And although nobody said it, I think we all knew that every single one of us wished someone would barge through the door and tell us we didn't have to. But we all knew that wasn't going to happen. It was up to us. Judge. Jury. Executioner.
Dale was staring at me. Looking to me. He still believed in me. Still believed I had what it took to step up. To end this. Or, at least be brave enough to try. He truly, genuinely, deeply believed that I would. He wouldn't look away. He knew, or at least thought he knew, I had it in me. That this would be my moment to shine. The moment I'd disregard everything, just do what I thought was right. And the way he looked at me, pleading with me, begging me to do it, I knew that he had thought I would all along. Believed I would. Thought I was a decent enough guy not to let this happen without a fight. I saw it in his eyes. And, I tried to convey through mine how sorry I was. How sorry I was for letting him down. And I knew he knew it too. And I knew it crushed him.
And in that fraction of a second, that silence that fell among all of us, we all knew. We all knew it was over. The decision was made. Dale knew. He was distraught by it. He didn't want to believe that the people that he had trusted so sincerely over the last few months, the people he had come to care so much about, could be so unreasonable. So inhumane. It undermined everything he had felt toward us. Everything that had kept him going. Everything he had so whole heartedly believed in, and he had believed that we all truly felt it deep down inside, and that he just needed to make us see it. But right then, in that silence, he saw who we were. Or, rather who we'd become. He saw how the world had changed us, damaged us, tarnished us. He couldn't reason with us. He couldn't save us. We, good people, people he loved, were lost to this despicable world and the ways of it, and I think that killed him even more.
"Are you all gunna watch too? No, you'll go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we're slaughtering a human being. Woah. I won't be a party to it." The tears had come. This was it. This was the realization. We weren't who he thought we were. Who he thought we could be. Who he prayed we all were inside. And he had nothing. Nothing left. He was alone in a room full of people. He had been so sure he had needed to lean on us the whole time to simply survive, to keep him human, and only now to discover that he had been the strongest one. It was devastating. I looked up at him again, and he started his way to me. I leant back against the wall. I didn't know if I could take this. I had been hit more times that I could count. Kicked more times than I remembered. Burned with cigarettes on frequent occasion. Beat up almost every day. Told I was a worthless piece of shit. Abandoned. But the look in his eyes, the look, and the simple touch of my shoulder . . . that was worse than all of it.
"You're right. This group is broken" And there they were. My own words thrown back in my face. I had been the biggest hypocrite of them all. Complaining, frustrated about how everyone acted. Contradicting their feelings with their actions. Their behaviors with their beliefs. And I had been the biggest offender, right now, in this living room. This was my chance. My chance to prove to everyone, to Dale, to myself, that it did matter what I thought. My opinion was important. It would make a difference. My chance to fix all this broken shit. Make things better. Or at least try. Try to make things better. Try to do the right thing. Try to do what I believed. Instead of just sitting there watching everything fall apart. But I had. And it was over now. I had disappointed myself, more so than ever before in my entire life. But if it was possible, I think I disappointed Dale even more. He had been sure I would stand up for what I believed. Be a decent, no, a great man. So sure I wasn't a coward. And maybe that's what hurt the most. The fact that he did believe in me so much. He overestimated me. He had truly believed I would be different, that I'd come around. Me, more than anyone else. He was counting on it. He needed it. He needed me. And I let him down.
That's all I kept thinking as I ran across that field. I heard the screams. I heard the frantic yells. And, I knew it was him.
I saw it too. That . . .thing on top of him. He was strong, Dale. Trying to fight it off. Almost did, too. From what I could see. If I had just gotten there a few fuckin' seconds earlier.
Dale screamed as I got closer and closer. And it wasn't just some terrified scream. It was a scream of pain. A cry for help. And I knew he'd been attacked. Fuck.
I ran faster, harder, quicker than I ever remember moving in my life. I jumped, leaped from a few feet away. I saw that thing clawing him, grabbing him like that. I needed to get it fuckin' off. Now. I tackled it, shoved it away, stabbed it in the head like it fuckin' deserved. Threw it to the ground.
I turned and made my way to Dale, lying there a few feet away. I had no idea what I'd see. I'd thought I'd seen it all. But I didn't expect that. His insides all torn up. My heart was beating so hard, so fast, I could feel it slamming against my chest. I bent down next to him. Placed my hand on his chest. No, no, no.
"Help! Over here!" I jumped up, I screamed, I yelled. I don't really know what I did. I needed help. I needed it now. They had to be there. Not Dale. Not like this. I didn't know what to do. My mind was racing almost as fast as my heart. I felt dizzy, and sick, and high on adrenaline all at the same time. I waved my arms frantically. "Help! Come on!" My voice hitched. This wasn't happening. No, no way. Not right now. Not to Dale. Dale. Dale. I saw them coming, they'd seen me. I bent down, tried to place my hands on Dale's bloodied chest, but didn't know how much of it was actually left. I'm pretty sure I placed them in his chest cavity, pressing on his insides. But I didn't care. I looked into his eyes.
"Oh hang on there, buddy" That wasn't my voice. It was broken. Sad. Overrun with emotion. I hadn't sounded like that in a long time. I looked down at him, pressed my hands against him tightly. What the hell else was I supposed to say? What the hell was I supposed to do?
His breath was raspy, he was whimpering in pain, and I had no idea what the fuck to do. I didn't know how to save him. I needed to do something. Someone needed to do something. Anything. We needed to save him. I looked up, they were all running toward me. They'd know what to do, right? They'd be able to save him. They had to.
I watched Rick bend down next to him, place his hand on his face, and watched as Dale looked right back at him. I removed my hands from his chest, and fell backward, away from him. Everything was happening in slow motion at one hundred and fifty three miles an hour. I stared at him. I couldn't look away. I couldn't move. I couldn't get up. But Rick was there. He'd figure it out, right? He needed to.
"Alright, alright" Rick muttered. "It's going to be alright, okay just listen to me, alright? Okay, hold on" His voice was frantic too. I heard Dale try to speak, and the groan that came out of his mouth. My stomach dropped. I was going to throw up. I tried to move. I thought I did. But I was still sitting there, staring, on the grass. I was paralyzed. Fear, guilt, grief. I don't know. It didn't matter. We needed to save Dale.
"Get Herschel!" Rick's voice was rough. Strained. Emotional. Desperate. But I couldn't look at him. I was looking at Dale. The wound on his chest. His eyes. And I couldn't look away.
"Hang on Dale" Andrea. I think. I don't know. "Hang on" Again. She was leaning over him now. And he nodded. He nodded. He understood. He knew. He knew what was going on. He knew how frantic we all were. He wanted to live. He nodded. His eyes got wide. My stomach dropped. My heart raced.
"Herschel! We need Herschel!" Rick's voice, even more desperate, even more throaty, more distressed. I still couldn't look to him. Dale had me. Had my full attention. My full devotion. I couldn't look away. Is that what it was going to take? Now I could finally give him the time of day? Now I was willing to pay attention? Now I was not only willing to look at him, but couldn't look away? Now? I was disgusted with myself. Absolutely disgusted. He deserved more than that.
"Look at me" Andrea. He loved her. God, he loved her. Like she was his daughter. He cared for her. Lived, for her. At least she was able to lean over him. Be in his line of sight. That's what he needed to see. Her. He needed her. He deserved that.
"Dale, we're getting help, we're here" Rick. He was trying to be calm. Trying. He knew he needed to reassure Dale, he was good like that. And, of course, Dale knew exactly what he was doing. He was good like that. Stomach torn open, insides ripped out, the guy understood people better than I have in my entire life. Better than any of us. He didn't deserve this. No. He deserved to live. Out of all of us, it was him.
"Hold on, please, hold on" Rick was begging him. It's exactly what I felt like saying. Exactly what I hoped I would say if only my vocal cords were working. They were paralyzed with the rest of my body. But I wished I could say it, I so desperately wished. I wanted him to know. To know how much we cared. How much I cared. How much we needed him. How much we loved him. Please. Please, don't go. Please. Don't leave us. Without you, we're nothing. Without you we're done. You make us human. You make us, us. You make it worth living in this fucking crazy shit world. You make it all okay. All alright. Please, please, don't go. Please, hold on. Please.
He nodded again. He tried. Despite everything, he was trying. Despite us all refuting him, pushing him down, writing him off, he tried. Despite saying he didn't want to live in a world like this if it meant we were all going to let the ugly, let the chaos destroy who we were. Despite everyone giving up on him. He wasn't giving up on us.
"What happened?" Herschel. He bent down quickly.
"What can we do?" Rick's voice was even more desperate now. More hysterical. More flustered than I'd ever heard it. And, it was then I realized that he was scared. Rick, was scared. That wasn't good. Not for any of us. Not for Dale.
"Can we move him?" Rick's voice was breaking. It was breaking, just like him. Just like all of us. It was heavy with emotion, uneven with distress.
"He won't make the trip" Herschel, being so fucking rational. We didn't need rational. We needed fucking help. We needed a miracle. We needed to try everything , anything possible. We needed to at least try. We needed to save him. We had to.
"You have to do the operation here!" Rick spluttered, going into leader mode again. This was more like it. We needed to try. Do something. Anything. We couldn't just let him lie here. Rick wouldn't give up. I knew he wouldn't.
"Glenn, get back to the house!" Rick screamed at the kid. I hadn't even realized he was there until Rick mentioned his name. I had seen them all swarming, but I hadn't taken the time to focus on them all. There was not time for that. I still couldn't bring myself to look away. I wouldn't let myself.
"Rick" Herschel, again in that stupid tone. That fucking tone. The tone used to break the bad news to somebody. The one used to destroy people. I fucking hated that tone. And, as soon as I heard it, I knew. Dale was going to die. He was going to die. Right here. Right now. He had tried so fucking hard to get us to save that kid's life. To show an ounce of humanity. Begged us to spare him. He, and only he, had done the right thing. And now, here we all stood, about to watch him die. Stand here and watch him die, as we decided we would for that stupid kid. He was going to die. Pleaded with us not to choose to do so for that kid. He didn't want him to die. He didn't want him to be killed. He didn't want us all to watch. And, now, we were all standing here, about to watch him perish too. He didn't deserve that. He was the best one. The best of us. Out of our whole fucking sorry ass group. He was it. The moral guidelines. The only one to maintain any sort of ethics. The only one. He was the strongest. The bravest for not letting it all get to him. For holding his ground in a world that refused to let you. He was the best of us. The absolute best. The only right one. The only one. He was it. He was the kind one. The civilized one. The gentle, caring, compassionate one. The untarnished one. The humane one. The only one. The best one.
It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. Not him. Not this man. He was the right one. The strong one. The brave one. He was. Not us. Not any of us. He deserved to live. None of the rest of us did. We weren't worthy. We had given up. We had been too weak to hold our humanity, to protect it. Dale hadn't. He'd given everything. And now, he was going to give his life.
Why? So us sorry asses could live? So we could continue to degrade and become worthless, moral less, uncaring, beings? No. This wasn't right. He deserved to live. Not us. Not me. Was this our punishment? For deciding to kill that kid? For so easily letting our humanity slip through our fingers? For not fighting for it? Was that what this was? We all were supposed to sit here and watch the last good man die? Watch him writhing in pain, coughing on his own blood, moaning in anguish . . .all because he had been right? Because he had held his ground? Because he was valiant enough to grip his humanity, his sense of self at all costs. Because he was heroic enough to refuse to fall victim to the means of this corrupt world. Because he was gallant enough to defy this new cruel world. Was that what this was? We had to watch him suffer? We had to watch as the last good man, the last respectable, morally righteous human being was ripped away from us? Watch all of this, knowing that he was the right one? He was the brave one. He was the strong one.
I closed my eyes tightly, and ran my hands roughly through my hair. I could feel the blood swear against my face. Dale's blood. But I didn't care. We'd failed him.
"No!" Rick whipped around. And it broke. His voice broke. Everyone did. I did. The tears started, the whimpering. I could hear everyone. Crying. Yelling. Moaning. This was it. We all knew it. There was nothing we could do. Nothing. We all just stood there. And he knew too, Dale. He knew it was over. He knew how hard we had tried, probably would have fucking thanked us if he could speak. He knew. Knew there was nothing we could do. And that made it so much fucking worse.
"He's suffering" Andrea. She could see it. We all could. He was writhing in pain. Gasping as much as his body would allow. Moaning. "Do something" We needed to do something, anything. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. None of it.
Rick stepped up. It was always him. Always. He took out his gun, pointed it toward Dale's head. I could see it in his face. How badly this one hurt. How badly losing this man hurt. His face was full of suffering. Anguish. Utter sorrow. His eyes started to droop with the tears forming there. He scrunched his mouth, tilted his head. Did everything possible not to cry. He didn't want to do this. He couldn't.
And suddenly, I was free. The paralysis had let up. And, I took it as a sign. I hadn't said anything earlier. I hadn't said anything now. But, here, now, this was one more chance. My final chance to at least try to make it right. I knew that now. And I wasn't going to let it go.
I stood up slowly, my body moving for me, directing me toward Rick automatically. This was what I needed to do. I needed to. I had to.
I glanced at his gun quickly, shaking, unsteady. Then, I looked to his face, covered with torment and grief. So completely afflicted. I looked back to the gun. And I reached for it.
I saw Rick look at me out of the corner of my eye. And, when I pulled the gun from his hand, he let it go easily. I could tell, with the mere touch, the mere look, how unbelievably grateful he was. He couldn't do this. Not this one. Not to this man.
The gun was heavy in my hand. Weighed down with what I was about to do. I was standing over him, looking at him, looking him right in the eyes. I felt the pang in my chest, the tear at my heart. I didn't want to do this either. But I had to.
I bent down next to him. This needed to be personal. It was personal. He was one of us. It was Dale. Dale. Dale, who'd believed in me when nobody else had. Dale, who'd put so much faith in me, some guy he barely knew. Dale, who saw that there was more to me than what I allowed people to see. Dale, who knew me better than anyone probably ever had. Dale, who had cared about me, cared about everyone in this group, more than he had cared about himself. Dale, who put everything he had into defending some stranger, some kid. Convincing us not to kill him. Convincing us that it wasn't the right thing to do. That we were better than that. He didn't want that for us. He didn't want us to be destroyed. He'd thought he could help us, save us, and we'd let him down. Dale, who had been the right one. Dale, the brave one. Dale, the strong one. Dale, the best of us.
I put one knee on the ground, pointed that gun at his head, tried to stop it shaking, to steady my arm, and looked him right in the eyes. He deserved that. I owed him that. I hadn't been able to look at him before, when he needed me the most. I sure as hell wasn't going to rob him of that again. I wouldn't look away. Not this time. I'd show him how much I truly did care. Show him that he hadn't been wrong. At least not completely. I would give him that. He deserved so much more. So much more. But, it was the very least I could possibly do.
I pointed the gun at his forehead. I wanted this to be quick, painless. I would give him at least that much. My hand started shaking again, and I tried my hardest to steady my aim. I was looking down at him directly into those eyes of his. Those eyes of wisdom. Of love. Of compassion and understanding. I hoped, I prayed to God he understood. And, I didn't deserve the look he gave me. The one that told me he did.
"Sorry brother" I wanted to say so much more. So much more. But, I knew he understood. And, I honestly didn't know if I could manage anything else. My finger wrapped around the trigger slowly, and I started to pull it.
He was looking at me.
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