From the Shadows
Loss
That evening, another discussion was to be held about Randall's fate. The group sat in similar seats as last time. This time, less people were on Randall's side. Daryl mentioned the story Randall told both Daryl and Teagan. The group gasped; the women held their faces. Shane and Andrea reinstated their opinions from last time. 'He's dangerous. We don't know him. Kill him.' Dale and Teagan remained quiet. Teagan's face remained relatively expressionless. She still didn't know how she felt. Her instinct told her to let Randall die. It's either them or us. If he had a group that wanted him, and if the group had the arsenal and man power Randall said, Rick's group would have no chance. If they were the monsters Randall said they were, the women wouldn't stand a chance, either. She couldn't imagine letting that happen to anyone. Carol, Lori, Andrea, Maggie, Patricia... young Beth and Sophia. They'd been through enough. None of them should ever know that kind of violence. On the contrary, Dale's face was full of fluctuating disgust and contempt. He couldn't understand why anyone should have their life robbed from them. The discussion, like last time, wound around in circles repeatedly until Rick called for a vote. Dale was the only one who wanted to save his life. Teagan painfully abstained. Everyone else voted Randall dead.
Dale was overwhelmed and stormed out. Shane and Rick prepared the execution. Everyone else slumped away to their respective tents. Teagan felt a surge of guilt for leaving Dale to stand alone. She went to follow him, but he disappeared. She went to head back inside when she heard a loud crack of thunder followed by a scream. Her heart began to race and she panicked. Dale! She sprinted towards the scream. She ran so long her muscles burned like fire. She approached the silhouetted slump on the ground.
A walker was straddling Dale; nasty, infected claws ripping through his abdomen. Blood poured into the grass and dirt, and the walker began to feed. The blood drained from Teagan's face. She kicked the walker off Dale and pierced the walker's skull with her knife. She kicked its body again. She turned and slumped to her knees next to Dale. The rest of the group sprinted towards Teagan and Dale, abruptly stopping at the scene. Andrea began to cry and fell to the ground. She couldn't look at Dale. Teagan held Dale's hand and tears welled in her eyes. Dale was like the father Teagan wish she had. He was supportive, intelligent and morally straight. He was the voice of reason, and she let him down. In one of his final moments, she abandoned him just to comfort her own ego. Rick was yelling at Hershel to do something for Dale, but nothing could be done. Rick raised a gun to put Dale out of his misery, but failed. He couldn't do it. Dale was a friend and cherished member of the group, and was ripped from them in an instant. Rick started to herd people away from the scene. Daryl stayed behind and did was Rick couldn't do. Dale was gone. Teagan remained by Dale's side as guilt swept over her. This is why I had to go. I just can't handle this. It started to rain.
Daryl tried to call someone to help him move Dale's body, but Teagan was already reared up to help. Daryl gave her a concerned eye, but Teagan shot back at him with determined ones. They carried Dale's body and gently placed him near the graves of the other lost from the barn massacre. Teagan headed towards the barn to grab a shovel and saw Randall, alive, sitting where she found him before. His hood was off and he was crying. She grabbed a shovel and slammed the barn door closed. She headed back outside and the rain eased. The rain had made it easier to dig. Without a word, Teagan started to dig a grave for Dale. She didn't want him to sit out overnight. He deserved a resting place. Daryl noticed her exertion and spoke.
“Lemme do tha'.” Teagan ignored him.
“Hey, Teagan. Go to sleep, I can do this.” Still no response. He approached her, but kept his voice soft.
“Teagan.”
“What? What the hell do you want?” There was a painful fire in her eyes he'd never seen. The closest he'd come was after Shane had attacked her; they were brutal.
“Lemme do that.”
“I can do it myself.” Her shoveling became clumsy and furious.
“I know you can, but lemme help.” He stepped closer to her and held out his hand.
“I don't need help, Daryl! Just go away.” She didn't even look at him anymore. She hoped if she didn't look at him, he'd disappear and let her fix what was too broken for repair.
“Yer gonna exhaust yerself. Lemme just-”
“NO! This is my fault! I have to do this.. this is my fault... I have to...” She repeated her words, each phrase becoming quieter and more mumbled than the previous. Daryl approached her and gently took the shovel from her hands. She looked at him with piercing, angry eyes.
“Give that back.”
“No.” His voice was almost soothing and soft, but strong and willful.
“Daryl, fucking give it back!”
“No, damnit. You listen ta me. This ain't yer fault. Ain't nobody's fault. A'right? Shit jus'... happened. Now stop killin' yerself over somthin' that ain't yer fault!” His voice was a yell, but not of anger. He hated seeing her so broken down. He was used to seeing her strong.
Teagan made no response and gave up her argument. She sat on a large rock and stared at Dale's body. Daryl continued shoveling. His movements were more efficient than Teagan's.
While he dug, she went inside the farmhouse. Hershel, his family and Rick sat around the table. Their eyes were wide with Teagan's presence. She was covered in mud and blood, and her clothes were soaked from rain. She looked like a disaster. Hershel stood up with concern in his eyes and approached her.
“Are you alright?”
“I need a sheet.” Her eyes seemed sunken into her head. Her hands were shaking.
“What?”
“F-for Dale. I need a sheet.” Her voice was shaky. Maggie stood up and went to the hall closet, and gave her a spare sheet. She tried to put a smile on her face to ease the tension.
“Here. This'ns a spare. Take it.” Her voice was warm, and she handed the sheet to Teagan gently. Teagan grabbed it, nodded, and went back outside.
“Is she gonna be alright?” Maggie looked at her dad. Rick answered for him.
“Yeah. The blood isn't hers.” The group indoors went quiet.
Teagan ran outside with the sheet. Daryl was just finishing up digging when Teagan approached. Together, they wrapped Dale's body and gently placed him in the grave. The rain stopped, and Daryl filled the grave with the previously removed dirt in no time. He looked up and saw Teagan was gone. A slight panic grew in him. He threw the shovel down and headed towards the farmhouse. Like Teagan, he was also covered in mud and rain, but not blood. It was only Hershel at the table now.
“Where's Teagan?” His voice was gruff and desperate.
“In her room, resting. Why?”
Daryl shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Jus' wanted to see where she went. She disappeared.” He tried to gulp down his nerves, but they left a rock in his throat he couldn't swallow.
“She's fine. You look like you need restin', too.” Hershel's eyes were soft; they always were. Daryl had an internal debate as to whether or not he should check on Teagan. She needed her space, he knew that, but he also wanted to see if she was okay. Why did she blame herself? As if Hershel could read his mind, he gave him a suggestion.
“She might still be awake if you want to peek in on her.” Hershel closed his bible and headed off to where Daryl assumed was his room. Daryl paced a little before finalizing the suggestion. He approached Teagan's door and knocked softly. No response. He knocked a little louder and heard Teagan shifting. He wasn't sure if she was sleeping, and he felt rude if he kept knocking. He started to back away when he heard her feet hit the floor. She opened the door ajar and looked at him.
“What is it?” Her voice was quiet and defeated.
“Uh, just, makin' sure yer alright is all.”
“Yeah, I'm fine.” Her voice gained false confidence in attempts to sound strong.
“You sure? Ya don't seem fine.”
“Yes, Daryl. I'm sure. I can take care of myself.” Her voice was harsh, and she regretted the tone. She sighed and spoke softer. “You should get to bed. You look tired.”
Daryl shifted his weight and stepped away from the door. He nodded and barely mumbled. “Night.” Teagan responded by quietly shutting her door.
Dale was overwhelmed and stormed out. Shane and Rick prepared the execution. Everyone else slumped away to their respective tents. Teagan felt a surge of guilt for leaving Dale to stand alone. She went to follow him, but he disappeared. She went to head back inside when she heard a loud crack of thunder followed by a scream. Her heart began to race and she panicked. Dale! She sprinted towards the scream. She ran so long her muscles burned like fire. She approached the silhouetted slump on the ground.
A walker was straddling Dale; nasty, infected claws ripping through his abdomen. Blood poured into the grass and dirt, and the walker began to feed. The blood drained from Teagan's face. She kicked the walker off Dale and pierced the walker's skull with her knife. She kicked its body again. She turned and slumped to her knees next to Dale. The rest of the group sprinted towards Teagan and Dale, abruptly stopping at the scene. Andrea began to cry and fell to the ground. She couldn't look at Dale. Teagan held Dale's hand and tears welled in her eyes. Dale was like the father Teagan wish she had. He was supportive, intelligent and morally straight. He was the voice of reason, and she let him down. In one of his final moments, she abandoned him just to comfort her own ego. Rick was yelling at Hershel to do something for Dale, but nothing could be done. Rick raised a gun to put Dale out of his misery, but failed. He couldn't do it. Dale was a friend and cherished member of the group, and was ripped from them in an instant. Rick started to herd people away from the scene. Daryl stayed behind and did was Rick couldn't do. Dale was gone. Teagan remained by Dale's side as guilt swept over her. This is why I had to go. I just can't handle this. It started to rain.
Daryl tried to call someone to help him move Dale's body, but Teagan was already reared up to help. Daryl gave her a concerned eye, but Teagan shot back at him with determined ones. They carried Dale's body and gently placed him near the graves of the other lost from the barn massacre. Teagan headed towards the barn to grab a shovel and saw Randall, alive, sitting where she found him before. His hood was off and he was crying. She grabbed a shovel and slammed the barn door closed. She headed back outside and the rain eased. The rain had made it easier to dig. Without a word, Teagan started to dig a grave for Dale. She didn't want him to sit out overnight. He deserved a resting place. Daryl noticed her exertion and spoke.
“Lemme do tha'.” Teagan ignored him.
“Hey, Teagan. Go to sleep, I can do this.” Still no response. He approached her, but kept his voice soft.
“Teagan.”
“What? What the hell do you want?” There was a painful fire in her eyes he'd never seen. The closest he'd come was after Shane had attacked her; they were brutal.
“Lemme do that.”
“I can do it myself.” Her shoveling became clumsy and furious.
“I know you can, but lemme help.” He stepped closer to her and held out his hand.
“I don't need help, Daryl! Just go away.” She didn't even look at him anymore. She hoped if she didn't look at him, he'd disappear and let her fix what was too broken for repair.
“Yer gonna exhaust yerself. Lemme just-”
“NO! This is my fault! I have to do this.. this is my fault... I have to...” She repeated her words, each phrase becoming quieter and more mumbled than the previous. Daryl approached her and gently took the shovel from her hands. She looked at him with piercing, angry eyes.
“Give that back.”
“No.” His voice was almost soothing and soft, but strong and willful.
“Daryl, fucking give it back!”
“No, damnit. You listen ta me. This ain't yer fault. Ain't nobody's fault. A'right? Shit jus'... happened. Now stop killin' yerself over somthin' that ain't yer fault!” His voice was a yell, but not of anger. He hated seeing her so broken down. He was used to seeing her strong.
Teagan made no response and gave up her argument. She sat on a large rock and stared at Dale's body. Daryl continued shoveling. His movements were more efficient than Teagan's.
While he dug, she went inside the farmhouse. Hershel, his family and Rick sat around the table. Their eyes were wide with Teagan's presence. She was covered in mud and blood, and her clothes were soaked from rain. She looked like a disaster. Hershel stood up with concern in his eyes and approached her.
“Are you alright?”
“I need a sheet.” Her eyes seemed sunken into her head. Her hands were shaking.
“What?”
“F-for Dale. I need a sheet.” Her voice was shaky. Maggie stood up and went to the hall closet, and gave her a spare sheet. She tried to put a smile on her face to ease the tension.
“Here. This'ns a spare. Take it.” Her voice was warm, and she handed the sheet to Teagan gently. Teagan grabbed it, nodded, and went back outside.
“Is she gonna be alright?” Maggie looked at her dad. Rick answered for him.
“Yeah. The blood isn't hers.” The group indoors went quiet.
Teagan ran outside with the sheet. Daryl was just finishing up digging when Teagan approached. Together, they wrapped Dale's body and gently placed him in the grave. The rain stopped, and Daryl filled the grave with the previously removed dirt in no time. He looked up and saw Teagan was gone. A slight panic grew in him. He threw the shovel down and headed towards the farmhouse. Like Teagan, he was also covered in mud and rain, but not blood. It was only Hershel at the table now.
“Where's Teagan?” His voice was gruff and desperate.
“In her room, resting. Why?”
Daryl shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Jus' wanted to see where she went. She disappeared.” He tried to gulp down his nerves, but they left a rock in his throat he couldn't swallow.
“She's fine. You look like you need restin', too.” Hershel's eyes were soft; they always were. Daryl had an internal debate as to whether or not he should check on Teagan. She needed her space, he knew that, but he also wanted to see if she was okay. Why did she blame herself? As if Hershel could read his mind, he gave him a suggestion.
“She might still be awake if you want to peek in on her.” Hershel closed his bible and headed off to where Daryl assumed was his room. Daryl paced a little before finalizing the suggestion. He approached Teagan's door and knocked softly. No response. He knocked a little louder and heard Teagan shifting. He wasn't sure if she was sleeping, and he felt rude if he kept knocking. He started to back away when he heard her feet hit the floor. She opened the door ajar and looked at him.
“What is it?” Her voice was quiet and defeated.
“Uh, just, makin' sure yer alright is all.”
“Yeah, I'm fine.” Her voice gained false confidence in attempts to sound strong.
“You sure? Ya don't seem fine.”
“Yes, Daryl. I'm sure. I can take care of myself.” Her voice was harsh, and she regretted the tone. She sighed and spoke softer. “You should get to bed. You look tired.”
Daryl shifted his weight and stepped away from the door. He nodded and barely mumbled. “Night.” Teagan responded by quietly shutting her door.