This is a series of drabbles dedicated to my favorite characters among the dead

Synopsis: an AU scene in which a decision Dale makes changes the fate of the group
Disclaimer: This chapter closely follows the events of 2x7 "Pretty Much Dead Already" but it will diverge from cannon. Warning for character death and foul language. I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters and do not profit from this story in any way. P.S. You'd never guess it from this story, but I actually like Shane ^^*

Chapter 1

Shane is Risky Business

It was a hot morning on the Greene's farm. A day and half before, Glenn had accidentally stumbled upon a barn full of walkers in his attempts to woo the farmer's daughter. Maggie asked him not to tell anyone, but this was too big a secret to keep. Now was as good as time as any to drop the bomb on them all at breakfast when they were all gathered.

"The barn is full of walkers," Glenn said, delivering the bad news with his mouth pursed into a grim line. There was silence at first as the news sank in, and then the others reacted predictably.

There was a flurry of activity and Shane got torqued up immediately. Both Shane and Daryl were keen to go and take care of their problem, yet Rick was hesitant.

He called for quiet as they evaluated their options, and asked that Glenn take them to the walkers. Breakfast was quickly forgotten as the group abandoned their food and went to investigate the new threat sitting right under their noses.

"You cannot tell me you're alright with this," Shane heatedly protested, addressing their leader Rick. He stalked away from the barn full of walkers, pointing aggressively behind him at the barn.

Rick looked physically pained with his face screwed up in true dismay, stuck between a rock and hard place. "Of course not!" he exclaimed. "But this isn't our land, we're guests here," he said.

"Look, the way I see it, we either have to go in there and make this right, or we just gotta go," Shane argued, his voice getting louder as he spoke.

"Keep it down," Glenn muttered, glancing over his shoulder nervously back at the house.

"We can't just sweep this under the rug," Andrea commented, clearly siding with Shane. That was enough fuel to keep him going.

"We gotta go! Now we've been talking about Fort Benning for a while-" Shane started to say, but was cut off. "We can't go," Rick stubbornly insisted- he had his reasons. Shane was growing more aggravated by the minute, and exploded.

"Why, Rick? Why?!"

"Because my daughter's still out there," Carol quietly spoke up. A look of utter frustration and disbelief flashed across his dark features, and Shane let out a frustrated sigh. "Okay, look, I think it's time we all start to just consider the other possibility," he beseeched the group to see reason.

"We're not leaving Sophia behind," Rick growled. The situation was quickly getting heated. Carol started to look panicked at the thought they might give up and leave. Daryl saw the look on her distraught face and stepped forward.

"Man, we can't give up. We're close to finding this girl, I found her damn doll two days ago," he gruffly reminded everyone.

Shane lost any semblance of patience he had left. "You found her doll, Daryl! That's what you did, you found a doll," Shane shouted. Daryl looked disgusted that Shane would discredit the girl so quickly and move on. Didn't he have a heart, or any hope at all?

"Man, you don't know what you're talking about!" Daryl shouted back, waving his arms dismissively at the former police officer. "I'm just saying what needs to be said," Shane argued. Rick stepped between the two before things could get ugly.

"You know what, even if you did find her, she'd run the other direction when she saw you coming with your geek ears all tied around your neck," Shane yelled.

A flurry of action happened next, Daryl lunging at Shane. Rick was still caught between the two, trying to keep them apart as they took swings at each other. There were voices all raised in alarm yelling at each other, and Rick shoved the two men apart finally. "Back off!"

"Get your hands offa me," Shane snarled, breathless after the altercation. "Let me talk to Herschel. Let me figure it out," Rick said aftler a long, tense silence. "What are you gonna figure out, Rick?!" Shane demanded to know, spittle flying from his lips as he yelled at their leader.

"If we're going to stay and clear this barn, I've got to talk to Herschel," Rick explained. "I have to talk to him about it. This isn't our land," Rick kept reminding them. Dale stepped forward for the first time with his piece.

"Herschel sees those things as people, sick people," the old man revealed to the group. "His wife, his step son, they're in there," Dale told Rick at his questioning look. "You knew?"

"I talked to Herschel yesterday," Dale answered. "And you waited the night?!" Shane huffed. He was mad that someone had actively kept him in the dark when there was clearly a threat he deserved to know about.

"I thought we could survive one more night, and we did," Dale said firmly. "I was waiting until this morning to say something, but Glenn wanted to be the one."

"That proves the man is crazy, Rick! If Herschel thinks those things are alive-" Shane was shouting again, and suddenly the walkers inside the barn pushed against the doors. The barn doors rattled ominously, catching every last one of the group's fearful gaze. They could hear the menacing growls behind the door, and the women and children reflexively moved behind everyone else.

Rick successfully managed to get everyone to leave the area. He needed to talk with Herschel immediately before Shane did something stupid. Shane was not satisfied with Rick's decision to leave the walkers.

After everyone went their different ways, he went back to the barn. He had to examine the barn for any vulnerable points that could get them all killed.

He circled the barn, and when he came back around to the barn doors, the walkers were rattling the doors on their hinges again suddenly. The sudden movement as they smelled him nearing startled him, and he reached for his pistol in its holster at his side. He cursed when he realized he didn't have his gun anymore, and decided that needed to be remedied sooner rather than later.

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As the morning turned to afternoon, Dale grew more ill at ease. He could tell by Shane's behavior that he wouldn't be satisfied by Rick's decision for long. It was just a matter of time before he came looking for his weapons at the R.V. and all hell would break loose. After this morning's escapade, Dale knew that he was right about the man.

Shane was a hot head that was going to wind them up killed, despite his best intentions. Dale fully supported Rick and his decisions as their leader. He understood that Rick needed to speak with Herschel before they made any hasty decisions. Dale respected Herschel and was also deeply grateful for their host's hospitality, giving them a safe place for the time being.

Standing outside the R.V., Dale considered their options. Leaving the farm wasn't really an option at all. The apocalypse was not an ideal time for men his age. He knew it was only a matter of time out there before one of the damned walkers got him. He wasn't as fast or as strong as the others. Life on the road was for the young and able, not that he was going to give up anytime soon.

Dale didn't have only himself to consider. He thought about the youngsters in camp like Andrea, Glenn and Maggie, Lori's unborn baby… And with the thought of a possible new life coming into their group, Dale knew what had to be done.

They had to stay at the farm no matter what for everyone's sake. They couldn't afford to be turned out, as Herschel had suggested. Dale had to do what was right for the group. Making sure they weren't kicked out on their asses for killing their host's undead family seemed to be the least he could do.

Glenn was standing up on top of the R.V., and he started talking to Dale but the older man was only half paying attention. He asked if Dale had an extra hat to spare, and Dale wordlessly tossed up his old and weathered fisherman's hat. "Thanks," Glenn said as Dale disappeared inside the camper.

Inside, all the weapons were spread out on the table and Andrea was tucking a small revolver into the waistband of her jeans. When she saw Dale, she gestured to the guns, "I'm going with Rick to look for Sophia." Dale looked confused, surveying the weapons. "I thought Rick was going to talk to Herschel?"

"He is, we're going after," Andrea answered. "In the mean time, I'm going down to the barn. Shane wants a watch duty on it," she told Dale. "Does Rick?" Dale questioned, as if that wasn't a smart idea. Andrea cocked a curious eyebrow at the disapproving tone of the older man. "I don't know, why wouldn't he?" she asked.

"Are you only taking yours?" Dale gestured to the weapons. Andrea didn't say anything right away. "I don't know what's going on with you and him," Dale said at length. "Him?" Andrea asked, sensing a lecture she didn't need coming on.

"Shane," Dale answered and Andrea said his name warily. She glanced away from him. "It's not my business. All that matters to me is that…. Well, you might not know him like you think," he warned her.

"Dale, let's not do this," she sighed. "It's important," he emphasized. "Look, I know you don't like him," Andrea started to say, "But you and I are finally-"

"It's not that," Dale interrupted. "It's just…. Is that how you want to be? Like him?"

"He's not a victim."

"You don't know him," Dale shook his head, disappointment becoming clear on his bearded face. He wasn't about to forget anytime soon how Shane had pointed a gun at his best friend in the woods. Shane was like a snake in the grass. Dale was silently grateful that Shane hadn't pulled the trigger, because he knew without a doubt that he would have been next. Shane was just that kind of person, he would have covered up the evidence like he did with Otis. Dale wasn't fooled for a second.

"I need you to stop," Andrea sighed. "You spend so much time looking out for me-"

"And you wanna beat me up any time I show any concern," Dale interrupted. "Go ahead, I'm done," Dale said with some resignation. He smiled, but just barely, and it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm not beating you up, Dale. I'm okay now, really. Things are different."

"You got your gun?" he asked, effectively ending the conversation. Andrea eyed him for a moment, and then sighed. "Yeah," she said, and she left the R.V. to go patrol the barn.

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It was too big a risk to take.

Dale moved the guns shortly after Andrea left. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Shane would come for them, and then Herschel would kick them out. Deep in thought, he asked Glenn to go and fetch him some drinking water. When the young Asian had departed, Dale made his move.

He hastily gathered up all the weapons into the sheriff's bag and took off for the swamp. They didn't spend much time in the swamp, and he figured they might be safe there. How wrong he was…

Little did he know, Shane wasn't much farther behind him. Dale was just about to lower the weatherized bag into the water to conceal the weapons when he heard someone approaching from behind. It could only be one person.

"Damn, that's a good hiding place," Shane bellowed, breaking the still quietness of the swamp. Dale turned to look at him, repugnance written on his face. "We ain't been in the swamp much, have we?" the dirty cop asked rhetorically.

"Imagine if you applied your tracking skills to finding Sophia," Dale snidely remarked. Shane ignored the comment. "Dale, I'm gonna need you to me a favor. I'm gonna need you to hand over that bag."

"I'm not gonna do that," Dale said to Shane, who was approaching quickly. His gait was almost leisurely, but definitely predatory. He eyed the bag that Dale was currently lowering to rest against a stump of a tree in the swamp behind him.

"Yeah you are, Dale. Unless you're planning on using that?" Shane asked, gesturing towards the older man's rifle across his shoulder. "Are you gonna shoot me like you did Otis? Tell another story?" Dale knowingly jeered at him, trying to shake the younger man's nerves.

Shane was nonplussed. He chuckled darkly and shook his head. "Nah, man," he said, "if you look at things in the cold light of day, you're pretty much dead already."

Dale stood stock still, ankle deep in swamp water, and his gaze never wavered from the loose cannon standing across from him. He didn't like the stubborn look on Shane's face, the stern set of his jaw that belied his determination. He'd stopped a few yards away.

"You really think this is going to keep us safe?"

"Uh-huh, I know it is," Shane stubbornly insisted. Dale tried one more time to reason with him. "Look, Rick's went to talk with Herschel-"

"Just give me the guns. Do it, now!" Shane barked. He squared his shoulders and it was like an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force in that moment. Dale raised his rifle.

"Am I gonna have to shoot you? Is that what it's gonna take to stop you? For me to kill you?" Dale asked, and he gulped at the seriousness of the situation. One wrong move, and he could be done for.

Ever since the day Dale witnessed Shane train a weapon on his best friend's back, he felt that the group wasn't safe with him. Though Shane had lead them out of danger before, he changed somehow since Rick showed up. Dale could see the motivation behind his actions. He wasn't blind or stupid. He'd had his suspicions about Shane and Lori from before, when they kept disappearing together and leaving Carl in his care.

He full heartedly believed Shane was the kind of man that would take what he wanted. He had seen the cold and hard, ruthless look in his eyes as he contemplated pulling the trigger. So long as that mad dog was on the loose, Rick was in danger. So long as anyone posed a threat to him, he would turn on any one of them just as easily.

Dale made his decision.

At that same time, Shane's body was ready to spring into action. His muscles were drawn taught and he clenched his fists, ready to get his hands dirty if it kept all those he cared about alive. He scoffed at the audacity of the old man standing in his way. He never would have figured Dale would have the balls. In fact, even now with a gun pointed at him, Shane knew damn well that the owner would never pull the trigger. He would bet anything that Dale didn't have it in him.

Shane took a tentative step forward, and Dale jerked his rifle up again. The quick movement halted Shane in his tracks. "You're not gonna shoot me, Dale," Shane calmly said to the older man.

He was barely two feet from him now, rooted to the spot. In one quick lunge, he could have Dale's weapon in hands. He just had to time it right. As Shane stared down the barrel of the rifle, Dale licked his lips in anticipation, sweat starting to bead his brow.

"You know, it's too bad," the old man said.

"How's that, Dale?"

"I know I may not be long for this world, but you're the one that's made for it," Dale commented conversationally. Shane furrowed his brow, beyond impatient with this old fart. "What the hell you talking 'bout?"

"This world, this hell it's turning into, you fit right in. You belong here," Dale jeered at him. He never lowered his rifle. Shane's lips furled into an angry snarl and he stared crazily at Dale. Fury overwhelmed reason, and Shane was seeing red.

"You ain't gonna shoot me!" he yelled, and he lunged for the old man's weapon. Dale took the shot, and the rifle blazed. Shane's eyes were frozen wide in shock when he fell dead into the water.

"The hell I won't," the old man said.

A/N: I know everyone likes to think of Dale's character as morally upright or whatever, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my mind. I guess maybe I wish Dale never died, and this is just one way of changing that. Although, at this point, I sure hope Dale shot him in the head because as you'll recall no one knows that everyone is infected at this point, and Shane would rise up again if Dale didn't (which is debatable). You never know, it's open to interpretation. Let me know how I did, will you? I plan to add more drabbles soon.