chapter eighteen: executioner
4022 words

He'd pushed her away, told her to go back with the others. Lin didn't want to; the only reason she'd even left the house was to be with Dale when he needed someone. But he kept telling her that he didn't, that he was fine. He wasn't and anybody that was in the house when he'd begun to cry had to know that he wasn't okay.

Lin knew she was stubborn, so set in her ways that no one could convince her otherwise when she set her mind to something. She knew that about herself. But she also knew that when Dale set a hand on either of her shoulders, begging her to just go back to the group, telling her that he just wanted to be left alone for a little bit to calm down, that she was going to listen to him, do what she could to just let Dale be at least a little bit better. She'd do anything for her family and she tried to reassure herself that this was the right choice, that she'd done right by Dale by just letting him be.

It didn't help that Daryl had gone with Rick and Shane to the barn to kill Randall. He was Rick's right-hand man no matter what Shane said. Rick needed Daryl with him, to be the muscle, the backbone of the execution. Lin didn't like it, not one bit. But no one could afford to be weak right now.

Lin sat by Daryl's tent, just waiting for the gunshot to ring out, to alert everyone that Randall was dead. She shivered against the night chill, bringing her hands up to rub at her arms. It was a futile effort, doing nothing to quell the goosebumps that blanketed her skin. She kept waiting for the gunshot. But it hadn't come. They'd taken Randall into the barn a while ago, so why haven't they just done it already?

Rick had been ready to, asking the kid if he had any final words to say before he pulled the trigger. Amidst the pleas and the crying, another voice rose up. Carl told his father to just do it, to pull the trigger, to end it all. Rick, unable to kill Randall after his son told him to do something like that. Carl had been taking to the changes of the world too easily. It was making him aggressive, rash. Shane yanked Carl's arm, pulling him out of the empty barn.

"Take him away," Rick said before he could change his mind. Daryl jerked his head and hoisted the kid up, not liking the action but not fighting it. He pushed the blindfolded kid to where they'd been keeping him, the other barn across the farm. Rick went to talk to the group, to tell them that they were keeping Randall in custody.

Lin didn't know they didn't shoot Randall. She sat away from everyone, her hands over her ears waiting for it. She didn't know that anything happened until the screaming started. She thought it was Randall at first but when she realized that Rick couldn't possibly miss a point blank shot to the head, she yanked her hands away, eyes searching the visible farm in search of who was screaming. Her mind jumped to the worst, Daryl, Carl, Rick. Dale. Oh my god, Dale. He'd been alone. He'd sent her away and she'd actually fucking listened.

Lin jumped up to her feet, tearing away from the tent into the field, her hand on her hip. She yanked her knife from the holster, just running as fast as she could. "Daryl!" She yelled, not really giving a shit about the consequences, the noise or just how loud she was being. The hunter, a lamp and his blade in his hands appeared in the distance. At hearing her yell, Daryl stopped on a dime, his feet slipping on the grass. He thought it was her screaming, calling his name for help. It made his stomach drop until he saw that she was fine, running toward him and toward the screaming.

"Do you know who it is?" She asked, her eyes instantly searching him from head to toe. He was fine. Daryl had a clue but he didn't tell her. He turned to look in the direction of the yelling, this time running with Lin close behind him. Daryl's silence scared her. He got to see who it was first, tackling the walker holding the person down. With it gone and Daryl's knife through its forehead, Lin was given a clear view of the gasping man. Her breath stopped right in her throat, like she was trying to breath around a boulder. Dale. Her knife slipped from her grasp, her knees giving out as she went to Dale's side.

He'd fended off enough to keep the walker's jaws away from him, but the decaying creature's hands dug into his chest, pulling him apart with blunt, bony fingers. Lin put her hands over the open hole, trying to do something, anything to stop the blood loss.

Daryl kneeled at his other side, raising his hands up to get the others' attention. "Help! Over here!"

"You're gonna be okay, Dale. You're gonna be okay," she started reassuring him, making promises she obviously couldn't keep. She pressed her hands down hard on the gaping hole, Dale's blood seeping between her fingers. The others were running, shouting questions as they got closer.

"Hang in there, buddy," Daryl offered, looking to Lin for anything he could do to help. Her hands were bathed, soaked in Dale's blood yet she kept telling him it was going to be alright. Rick stopped at Lin's side, reaching to cradle Dale's head. He looked up at her, his eyes wide and unblinking.

"You're going to be okay," Lin said, pressing harder. "Just keep looking at me."

Dale's hand rose up, shaking and jerky as it brushed under her arm, reaching for her, to hold part of her. His hand clasped around the wrist where his watch sat.

"Get Hershel!" Rick cried, looking past Lin's hands in Dale's abdomen. "He needs blood. We got to operate now."

Andrea got down at Lin's side, Glenn right behind her. Lin's hands were sinking further into Dale's stomach, uselessly trying to staunch an endless blood flow. Operating wasn't going to do anything. No amount of blood could replace what he was losing every second. She pulled one hand away, wiping it down the length of her thigh to try and get rid of some of the blood, reaching up for Dale's face to keep him looking at her.

"Look at me, Dale. Just look at me." She was crying, the tears blazing hot trails down her face.

"What happened?" Hershel asked, taking Rick's place. He didn't dare move Lin, not when one of her hands was still pressed onto him.

"What can we do?" Rick asked the vet and the nurse. Hershel didn't answer and Lin couldn't say much more than whispered through her pained sobs. "Can we move him?"

"He won't make the trip," Hershel determined. Lin knew that. She knew the moment she saw Dale's intestines hanging out of the hole in his stomach. She didn't want to believe it, she really didn't.

"You have to do the operation here." Rick demanded. Lin felt Dale's grip on her wrist tighten.

"It's okay, Dale. Don't try to speak." She didn't know if he could through the blood gurgling up in his throat. Hershel set a hand on Rick's shoulder, shaking his head to tell him that nothing could be done.

Dale began to cry, his face scrunching up in visible pain. Lin wished that she could take it away from him. She wished that she had just been there. If she had been there he would be okay. She would have seen the walker, killed it before it got the chance to even get near him.

"I'm sorry, Dale," Lin sobbed, her head falling down onto his chest. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there." His grip flexed n her wrist, his strength waning. She pulled her other hand away, gripping tight onto his tank top, the blood on her hand staining it instantly. She brought her head back up, meeting his eyes again. "I love you so much, Dale."

"He's suffering," Andrea muttered through tears of her own. Someone had to do something. Dale's eyes went wide at the implication of what was going to happen next. Lin caught the action, shaking her head.

"Dale we're not going to let you turn," her voice cracked on the last word, her eyes shut and her head turned away at just the thought of Dale becoming one of those things. "Please, somebody just do something because I can't."

Over her shoulder she could see Rick pull his revolver. He aimed it at Dale's head, just missing Lin's. Lin took his hands in hers and waited. She waited for the revolver blast to crack beside her head. She waited for it to deafen her, to take Dale's pained cries from her ears. She wanted it to. She wanted to never hear anything like it ever again. And she was sure she'd never forget how it sounded either.

Rick couldn't do it. He couldn't pull the trigger with Dale's eyes cast up to him like they were. Daryl took the gun from Rick, taking the responsibility for himself. He looked down the barrel and when Lin shifted closer to Daryl, it put her right in the line of fire.

"Sunshine, you gotta move."

Lin shook her head, a sob breaking through her lips. "You do it with me here. I won't let him be alone again."

Daryl nodded. He understood. He didn't want her to be there but he understood. He kneeled down beside Dale, putting the barrel down just inches from Dale's forehead. Lin couldn't watch but she couldn't let him be alone either. So she gripped his hands a little tighter, whispered that she loved him one more time.

"Sorry, brother," Daryl mumbled, shifting his grip on the revolver. Lin shut her eyes tighter, held onto Dale's hands a little stronger and just waited for the gunshot. It came too soon. Things like this always did. She thought she'd have Dale forever, her guiding compass. But she didn't. His hands went slack in hers, the bullet ending his suffering, ending the pain he had been feeling. Lin squeezed his lifeless hands one more time and told herself that it was all her fault.

Lori reached for Lin's shoulders. The eldest pulled the youngest against her chest, a hand cupping the back of her head. Lin couldn't contain her sobs, the strangled cries that stung her throat, burned her tongue as she realized all the fury and the hurt that it had been Dale that had to suffer. Someone picked up the body, probably Rick or Daryl, she didn't know who.

Lori couldn't imagine how Lin felt. She'd thought Rick was dead but she'd gotten that confirmation. Lin couldn't get that. She knew because she'd seen it happen. She knew what Dale's fate was.

Lin held her hand over her mouth as Lori led her to their tent. She tried to get herself quiet, tried to stifle the tears and the cries. But she couldn't. Her heart was in pieces, dust in the wind, obliterated by the bullet that went through Dale's head.

Carl curled up in Lin's lap, both trying to comfort her and himself. He thought it was all his fault. She thought it was all hers. He hadn't shot the walker. She had left him alone. She shouldn't have listened to him, shouldn't have walked away from him. She walked away, turned her back, and he'd died because of it. She didn't back him up when he needed her to, didn't convince everyone to leave Randall alive. It made her hurt, made the muscles in her chest constrict tight at the thought that his last memory of her was her letting him down. He didn't deserve that.

Carl was long asleep, his breaths smooth and even on Lin's leg. Everyone was still outside, most likely deliberating on a funeral for Dale in the morning. The tent wasn't exactly soundproof so she could still hear everything they were saying. But she wasn't exactly listening anyway. She set her head back on one of the tent's poles, shut her eyes and tried to fall asleep. After the day she'd had, falling asleep wasn't the hard part. It was the staying asleep that proved to be the problem.

She jerked awake at the sound of the tent unzipping, one hand laying over Carl's head and the other aimed for her knife. Lori peeked through the flap, Rick following close behind. She relaxed but knew that sleeping here was a futile effort.

"Can you take him?" She whispered as to not wake the sleeping kid up. He needed to get his rest, more than any of the others did. This world was about the future, about kids like Carl. Lori's expression softened at seeing her son with his head in his aunt's lap. Rick walked over for Lori, his arms out to take Carl. He lifted him easily, tucking him into his cot. Lin stood, going for the open tent flap.

"You're going out there alone?" Lori stopped her by grabbing her hand. "It's not safe to be out there alone. You should stay here."

Lin looked between Rick and Lori. "I'm going out to Daryl so I won't be alone."

Lori had noticed how the two had been drifting closer, her sister spending more time with the reclusive redneck. She wasn't blind. Daryl had stood by Rick when he needed it, he'd been a huge contributor to the group, so that was somewhat good enough for her.

"Okay," Lori nodded. She pulled Lin's hand, drawing her close to hug her. Lin took it without hesitation, putting her forehead down on her sister's shoulder. The contact began to calm her down but she knew it wouldn't soothe the ache she still felt. That would take time and nothing more. Lori kissed Lin's temple. "Please be careful," she whispered in her ear. Lin just nodded, giving Lori a weak smile in response. Rick reached over and set his hand on Lin's shoulder, a silent reminder that he was there for her too. She put her hand up over his, squeezing it then backing out of their tent.

The night was almost completely silent. Not even the singing of the cicadas could be heard. It was unnerving and Lin suddenly didn't want to make the trek all the way across to Daryl alone. It wasn't quite pitch black, the light of the moon still shining a dim light out on the farm, but it was pretty damn close. She wished that he didn't move all the way out there. It was dangerous for him to. To make herself feel better, Lin slipped her bow over her shoulders, letting the weight of it on her chest hold her together. With her bow and arrows, she wasn't as scared of going over alone, even if she barely knew how to use it.

She wasn't sure if Daryl was even awake. There wasn't a fire going outside of his tent at Rick's order to keep everything quiet and dark until the morning. When she reached his little camp, the closed zipper of his tent had her heart falling down through her feet. She didn't want to wake him up. And she really didn't know how to without scaring the shit out of him. The tent rustled from the outside and Lin took a step back, preparing to draw one of her weapons. But then Daryl rounded his tent, his crossbow firmly in his hands.

She could tell he wanted to ask her what she was doing there but the words just died on his tongue.

"I couldn't sleep in Lori's tent."

"Don't ya have one of your own?"

Her throat tightened at the thought of her empty tent. "I don't want to be alone," she told him honestly, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "Can I stay with you?" She didn't want to hint at it, didn't want to dance around what she really wanted. She knew Daryl had every right to say no, but she had to ask first.

"I ain't cuddlin' or nothin'," he told her, voice just a mumble in the dark. He unzipped his tent, pushing the little metal piece all the way down to give her enough room.

"Don't worry. I won't make you." Lin waited for him to climb in, to claim his space before her. She took those few seconds to scan the area, the perimeter of Daryl's camp. She knew it was safe, that he wouldn't take chances like that with his own life. But she still checked. And Daryl noticed. He dropped his crossbow right by the tent flap, within reach of his sleeping bag. Lin stepped around it, dropping down into the empty corner furthest from the flap. Daryl zipped it up, hiding the little metal bits down by the ground on his side.

Lin hesitated in asking him for anything to use for a bed that wasn't on her body already. She had an outer shirt and it wasn't as cold as it could have been, especially with someone else in the tent. She pulled her knees up to her chest, setting her forehead down onto them, kneecaps pressed up into her eye sockets. She let the darkness sink in, the black fading to red, the red into blood, the blood into Dale. She inhaled hard, yanking her head up with wide open eyes. Daryl noticed. He always did with little things like that, the little habits of everyone in the group. He was a tracker; it was in the job description.

She looked over and saw his eyes on her. It was clear to him now why she couldn't stay with the rest of the group, why she didn't want to. He got them too sometimes, the nightmares. He knew what they looked like. And he was going to say at least something about it but she beat him to it.

"Every time I close my eyes I see him. He's handing me this dumb watch and my hands are covered in his blood." She rocked backward a little bit, flinching when her head touched the side of the tent. She could imagine hands grappling at her through the vinyl. She hunched forward away from it. "When I went to him, after the group discussion, he told me to leave him be. And I did. Then he got bit and that's on me."

Daryl shook his head. She'd blamed herself for Jim's death and now Dale's too. It was too much to put on someone, especially her. She didn't need that, not when she had a family that needed her, something to offer the world when she was still breathing.

"It ain't," Daryl told her.

"It was one walker, Daryl." He jerked his head from side to side.

"It don't matter how many there were." He let his leg fall from where he'd had it bent. He wasn't good at comforting people. He wasn't good with people in general. He never had to be. It had always been just family for him. Merle, his mom, his dad, then his dad and Merle and then just him. People weren't his thing. "Cain't comfort ya then way ya want me to. I told ya that before."

That at least got him some semblance of a smile. "I know you can't."

Daryl's browline creased right down the middle with his answering frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means I know you at least a little bit, Daryl. I came here because I knew you wouldn't ask. You'd just let me cry myself to sleep, make me pick up the pieces in the morning." She shifted so she was sitting with her legs crossed. It was painful, the way she had to hold her back up to sit almost straight. But the ache alone her lower back would keep her awake, keep her alive, so she didn't move.

"Why do ya think I'd make ya do that? You're mourning."

Lin shook her head. She reached up and rubbed at her forehead, her hands scrubbed clean by Lori. Lin thought it had been a waste of water, she could have washed them in the creek outside of the farm. "Because it's what you do, Daryl. I've seen it." His jaw set, teeth clicking together. "Please don't tell me that you don't." She busied herself with the seam on her jeans, playing with the fraying threads. Her fingers inched upwards, until she was laying her hand over the smear of blood that had dried into the denim. She wanted to rip them off, never wear them again. But she swallowed her thoughts in front of Daryl. There was no way she was gonna undress like that in front of him. She realized then how it all must have sounded to him.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to come into your tent and spit fire at you." She thought that he'd be mad, on the verge of sending her right back out. But he wasn't.

"It's fine," he brushed it off, even if he thought it wasn't. "You gonna start cryin' now?"

Lin sniffed and pushed her hair back away from her face, wiping at her eyes at the same time. "I don't really want to."

"Then get some rest. They'll all be up early tomorrow." He reached for one of the thin blankets over his sleeping bag and tossed it over to her. She grabbed it, bringing it up to wrap around her shoulders.

"Thank you, Daryl. For everything," she replied, not really knowing what more to say to him.

"Don't," he jerked his head to the blanket he just gave her. "Sleep."

She nodded off quickly, the blanket he gave her held tight between her fingers. Daryl waited until he was sure that he was asleep to even consider shutting his eyes. He'd been sleeping too much, in his opinion. He knew that Lin would disagree the moment he ever tried to tell her. So he didn't. It saved her the worry and him the patience of listening to her worry. She did that too much, always putting other people ahead of her. If she kept doing that, she'd burn herself out. He'd seen it before.

Lin jerked up from the corner so fast he thought that she was going through the tent wall itself. Her wide eyes darted around, like she'd forgotten where she was. Then she spotted him, sitting up and still awake about an hour or so after she'd first fell asleep, judging by the hands of the watch on her wrist. She hated how weak she must have looked then, terrified of something as stupid as nightmares. But then Daryl just held out a hand, just one hand in her direction. Maybe he wasn't thinking clearly because he was dead on his feet, or maybe he was.

"Come on, sunshine," he hummed just under his breath. Lin didn't argue it, didn't hesitate long as she pushed the blanket off of herself, crawled over his crossbow, and put her hand in his. He pulled her hand, the motion telling her that he wanted her closer. He let go of it then in favor of bringing it around her shoulder as she settled herself against his side. Each of her actions were slow, cautious of the boundaries that Daryl had. She brought her hand up and set it on his chest, right over his heartbeat. He was fine, alive and right here. Lin exhaled and relaxed more into his side.

"You're a good pillow, Dixon," She teased into the fabric of his flannel. He grumbled and shifted a little but didn't make her move.

"Shut up and sleep, Lin."

an: so i know megacorporations are big bad but disney+ kinda slaps. the mandalorian is great and i need new episodes asap like we were expecting serious badass dude and we got total dork mc-hot voice. it makes me what to revive my star wars universe that i never wrote. but anyways, with there being only 2 episodes of walking dead left in this year, ive timed the rest of part one's uploads so this part will end the night of the season finale. part two is currently being written at a slower pace bc of school (but ill be off for break all of december ayyo) but it will hopefully start being uploaded in the new year. you guys have been literally the best readers and i love this book and my character so much. the playlist i've made is one of my favorites ever btw.

i hope you enjoyed, check out my other books!, and ill see you in the next part on thursday!