CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
"Kyra?"
How many times had he said my name now, while I was slumped against. Tray. I can't fucking lose him.
"No," was all I was able to get out. A small, mumble. "Daryl, I can't do this anymore. I can't," I shook my head again, burying my face in his neck.
I held my breathe as his arms wrapped around me.
"I wish you didn't have to, baby girl," he whispered in my hair,
causing me to sob. This couldn't be happening, not now.
"Where? Hershel got bit, you guys just cut his leg off, remember? We could just amputate whatever we need to, and he'd have a better chance of surviving, we can-"
"It's on his shoulder," he cut me off, making my gut twist even more. This wasn't good for the baby.
"Damn it, Daryl, I told you asses to be careful!" I sobbed again, my arms wrapping around his torso.
"I know, baby girl. I tried. I didn't even see it happen, I didn't know. I don't know how I missed it-"
"I'm not at mad you," I interrupted him. I could hear it in his voice- he blamed himself. He always fucking did. He always always found something that he did wrong.
"If I would've stuck with him-"
"Daryl," I pulled away, putting either hands on the side of his face. "Stop. You couldn't have saved him. It was inevitable. It would have happened anyway."
He slowly nodded and I knew he didn't believe me.
"Daryl, I really fucking hate to break this up," Michonne called from the bottom of the stairs, "but my boyfriend is dying right now."
Oh, Michonne. So many people she loved, lost.
Daryl stood, tugging me with him.
"I can't go down there, Daryl. I can't," I whispered, squeezing his hand.
"You have to be there. He's not going to make it through the night, Kyra," he whispered, and I felt my self gripping him harder as my knees buckled.
"Shit!" he cursed, helping me stand, "Sorry."
I nodded, my hands wrapping around his arm as we walked downstairs.
The sight I found was not one I ever wanted to see again. Ever.
He looked so defeated, because he was, as Michonne stood beside him. Everyone gathered around him, even Beth, as they whispered about what to do.
"There has to be something, anything!" Raul demanded. "Take off his arm!" he shouted at Daryl, instantly making me defensive. It's not his fucking fault, nor is he God.
"There's nothing," Daryl answered shortly, like he always did in big crowds. "I'm sorry, Tray."
Tray gulped and nodded, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"I should've.. I should've said something as soon as it happened. I'm sorry," he shook his head.
"Oh, Tray, don't be," Michonne tried to comfort him, but it was just awkward.
"I don't know what to do... What's gonna happen?" he asked shakily, and everyone turned to Daryl. Damn it, why do they keep fucking doing that?
"We can wait till you turn, if that'll make you feel better," he offered, making me gag. He stole a glance towards me, but I held up a hand. I'd be ok.
"No. I need to be me when I go," he answered solemnly.
"No, Tray," Morgan whined, gripping his wrist.
"Where's the boys?" I whispered, noticing their absence.
"In the next room," Michonne answered.
"I want to say bye to them," Tray announced, and I knew that I would throw up before the night was over.
/
I know it's really short, but I'll be double updating! Love you guys so fucking much it hurts!
