A/N This is the first time I have entered a writing completion so please be gentle with me. I didn't choose the who and how but really enjoyed writing it, even if it did make my daughter cry.
Once again warning or main character death.
The ground was hard and cold underneath his back and he could feel his blood pooling beneath him, wet and sticky as it seeped into his clothes. He felt hands pulling at his grubby tee shirt, yanking it up his chest, away from the wound. He was aware of voices, shouting and screaming, heard his name being called from a distance but it was just too much effort to answer the desperate pleading.
Hands were pushing against the gaping hole in his side, holding a folded wad of fabric tight to it, trying to stop never ending flow of blood. He wanted to tell them to stop, that it hurt too much, that it wasn't going to help. He tried to make the words leave his mouth but they were stuck in his throat.
His eyes focused on the faces around him, faces of people he'd come to love and respect over the last few months, even though most of them weren't related by blood he considered them family.
Glenn was there, standing to one side helplessly as he ran his fingers through his messy hair. His face was twisted in anguish as he paced back and forth, wanting to do something but not knowing what. Maggie hurried to Glenn's side, her eyes filling with tears as she stared down, before reaching for Glenn and burying her face in his chest as they clung to each other. Others arrived and he realised someone had gone to fetch them from the house.
Herschel's beaded face hovered above him and he saw the man's lips move as he tried to reassure him, telling him everything would be alright. Herschel began pulling out his medical tools and pushed the hands away from his side.
From the ground he saw Daryl stumbling back, his hands and wrists covered in blood from his frantic attempts to stem the blood loss. The hunter turned away, but not before he saw the dull look in his normally bright blue eyes. He felt bad when he saw the guilt there and knew the man he considered another father would be thinking he was to blame. Would think it was his fault for not checking the back of the truck, even though he couldn't have known he was hiding there, after all he was meant to stay in the house.
Beth's pretty face appeared next to Herschel and he tried to smile at her as she helped her father fight to save his life. He wanted to tell her he'd had a crush on her since the first time he saw her. Her thick blonde hair and big blue eyes had knocked him for six and her kind and sweet personality had made her just perfect in his opinion. Now her face was frowning in concentration and the looks she sent him were filled with compassion. She reached down and brushed some of his long hair from his cheek as she gave him a watery smile, trying to offer some comfort.
Herschel was fighting to stop the blood loss so he could stitch the wound but he heard words like artery and severed. Even at just 13 years old he knew that wasn't good.
His Mother was suddenly by his side, trying to cradle his head on her lap, her huge, pregnant stomach getting in the way. He saw Carol wrapping her arms around his Mother, offering her the support that only someone who had lost their own child could give. He felt his Mother's tears soaking his shirt and tried to lift his hand, wanting to touch her one last time. He wished he'd been able to see his new brother or sister.
His head rolled to one side and he glimpsed T Dog reaching a hand out to catch Daryl's arm as he stalked past him. Daryl knocked it to one side, pushing T Dog away as he distanced himself from everyone, something he did every time he was upset. Even after all these months he still wouldn't allow anyone close to him.
Herschel was kneeling at his side, his eyes sad as he looked across at his Mother, shaking his head. He heard her cry of anguish and saw Carol grip her tighter, both women sobbing helplessly. Beth turned away and buried her head in her Father's neck. He could see her shoulder's shaking as the old man patted her back.
He moved his head, his eyes searching for the one person he had to see. Finally he saw the hunched figure, huddled on the ground, his eyes staring at the bloody knife, still gripped in his hands. He wanted to tell him not to blame himself, it wasn't his fault. He'd been told to stay behind, that he wasn't ready to go on a run, he was too young, too inexperienced. He'd thought he knew better and had slipped into the bed of Daryl's truck, pulling the tarpaulin over himself, smiling at how clever he was. He'd honestly believed that when they'd arrived at the store they were going to search for supplies he would be able to prove himself, show them just how capable he was.
He had waited for the others to enter the store then slipped from the truck and followed them inside. It had been going well until T Dog had opened the door to the store room. At least 20 walkers had barged out. The following fight had been desperate and brutal. Glenn and Daryl had fought back to back, successfully holding their own, using knife and machete. T Dog had climbed onto a display counter and taken down several walkers with his bat, swinging it viciously as the clawing hands had reached for him.
Daryl had shot one with his crossbow and it had fallen back into a shelving unit knocking the rickety thing over. He'd been buried beneath it and it had taken him a few minutes to dig himself out of the debris. A shard of broken metal from the frame had impaled itself in his calf and when he got to his feet he found he could only drag that leg behind him. He made his way painfully towards the group, accepting that maybe they were right; maybe he wasn't ready to go on a run.
Glenn, Daryl and T Dog were finishing of the remaining walkers as he reached out a hand to the last member of the group, who'd just put down 3 of the undead with his knife. He stumbled the last few steps and his hand landed heavily on the man's shoulder. As he opened his mouth to speak the man span round and the knife flashed out. He fell forward meeting his Father's horrified eyes, hearing the man's anguished howl as he pulled the knife from his son's stomach.
"Carl!"
Everything after that was a blur, he'd been carried outside and laid carefully on the ground, and T Dog had raced off to get Herschel and the others. Daryl had seen the crumpled tarpaulin, worked out what had happened and sworn loudly as he tried to find something to stop the blood. Glenn had tried to approach his Father and backed off quickly when he saw the look on his face as he cradled his injured son.
His Father had allowed Daryl close enough to try and help and had backed away completely when the others had arrived, shutting himself down, withdrawing from everyone.
"Dad!" the word burst from his lips, causing everyone to jump. His Father lifted his head and looked at him with numb, tear filled eyes.
"Carl" he staggered over to his son as he lay, dying on the ground. He fell to his side and gripped his hand.
"I'm so sorry, I thought you were a walker, I heard you stumbling… I thought.…." His voice broke and he couldn't continue.
Carl's hand tightened on his.
"Not your fault" he whispered "You told me to stay in the house"
The last thing he heard as his hand fell from his Father's grip and his vision started to fade was his Mother's voice screaming at him to hold on and not leave them.
Warmth spread through his body and finally it didn't hurt anymore. He wondered if he would see Sophia again as he closed his eyes a final time and allowed himself to slip away into the darkness.
End