𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

          𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓. And to be honest, he never wanted to feel that way again. After Dale's funeral the day after he was sitting with his sister under a tree, watching everyone pack up inside of Hershel's house. He was allowing them to move inside, Dale's death being the reason for it.

He felt this guilt in his chest. His stomach hurt, and it felt like his head was going 100 miles per hour as he sat there thinking of the what if scenarios.

Casey and him were just sitting together in a comfortable silence. He knew how she felt, blaming herself for Sophia and all. Because now, he was blaming himself for Dale. It was his fault he died. He took Daryl's gun and went into the woods, then he saw a walker. It was stuck in the mud, so, he didn't think it'd do any harm...but he was wrong. Because it did a lot more harm than he'd think.

He just thought he could leave that walker there after throwing rocks and stuff at it. But, that same walker came and killed Dale.

"It's my fault, ya know." He said, catching her attention. Her head shot up and she glanced over at him.

"What?" She questioned, not understanding what he was talking about.

"Dale...it's my fault he's dead." She furrowed her eyebrows at him. What was he talking about? How was it his fault he was gone?

She shook her head. "Dale was killed by a walker, Carl." She stated the obvious. Carl nodded, knowing that. But, he had to further explain.

"I know that, but, I saw the walker earlier, in the woods. I didn't kill it." He told her. "I had a gun and everything, I could've shot it right in the head. But I didn't." He continued.

Casey sighed, nodding her head. Right now, she was thinking about how to answer to that.

She could be spiteful and agree with Carl. Agree that he was why Dale was dead. He blamed her for Sophia, why should she do the same with Dale? Make him feel how he made her feel? 

Or should she say it wasn't his fault so he wouldn't feel that way. Because no one should ever have to feel that they're the reason someone's dead. She also just knew it wasn't his fault at all. How was he supposed to know that walker was gonna kill Dale? He didn't. He didn't know that.

She glanced at him. "It's not your fault, Carl." He furrowed his eyebrows at her.

He wanted her to be angry with him. To yell at him. Say it was all his fault like he did with Sophia. He didn't understand why she wasn't being mean to him like he was to her.

"Yes, it is! I had a gun and everything, I should've killed it!" He sounded frustrated. Not at his sister, but at the situation.

"It's not like you knew it was gonna come up and kill Dale." Carl shook his head. Why wasn't she angry? Why wasn't she blaming him? He wanted to hear someone say it was his fault because it was.

It was entirely his fault.

"I should've killed it." He firmly said. Casey wouldn't argue that statement, because he should've if he had the opportunity. But, she didn't know how he felt. She knew when she had to kill that Walker when it was her mad Sophia, she was afraid. So, maybe Carl was afraid to. "I bet if you were there you would've killed it." She also wouldn't argue that statement either...

"It's not your fault."

Carl looked at her. His face was softened at her words. He didn't know if she was saying that to make him feel better or what, but, he couldn't see if she was lying.

"Why won't you be mad at me? I was mad at you when Sophia died...I blamed you for it. Why won't you blame me?" She shrugged.

"Because Sophia actually was my fault, Dale wasn't yours." Carl's shoulders slumped at her statement. He shook his head quickly, denying what she had just told him.

"No, she wasn't. You killed the walker that was after you and her, you didn't know Sophia was gonna get bitten by other ones." He told her. "If anything you saved her, getting that walker away from her, she just got unlucky." Casey looked at him.

For the first time, she felt like he was telling the truth. Maybe it wasn't her fault. But, right now it wasn't about here. It was about Carl. It was about making him feel a lot less guilty, not her.

"And you didn't know that the walker was gonna kill Dale, maybe he just got unlucky." She countered, Carl sighed leaning back against the tree.

He looked around, making sure nobody was watching the two before turning to his sister more. He pulled something out of his waistband. She heard clicking.

It was a gun.

"I took it from Daryl." She cursed beneath her breath, wishing she could've stolen it from Daryl. But, that wasn't the point of the argument. "Here, you're better with it than I am." She sighed, now looking behind her as well.

"Come on, sit up here with me and help me keep watch. I need another strong lady." Casey walked toward the ladder and climbed up. Andrea sighed, handing her a gun.

Casey was caught by surprise as she just handed it to her as if it were candy. "Dad says I gotta ask him or mom." Andrea shook her head, adamant about handing it to her.

"Come on, can't get rid of a walker without one of these." Casey skeptically took it into her grasp.

She took out the gun Andrea gave her, showing it to Carl. "Don't think it's the best idea to carry two." Carl went wide-eyed, looking at her.

"Who gave you that?" He questioned.

"Andrea did. Just don't tell mom and dad. I won't tell them that you took that from Daryl either." She told him, putting the gun back into her waistband. "Hid it in my backpack for a while, but after Dale, I figured maybe I should carry it around." She admitted. Carl agreed with her, but, he decided he didn't like guns anymore. And that he didn't wanna carry them.

But, if Casey already had a gun, he didn't wanna stress her out with more. "Just keep it, you might need it." She told him, Carl sighed, standing up.

He still didn't wanna keep that stupid gun...

                       𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 up in that tree. She knew Lori didn't like when she did it, but, she got a better view of everything going on.

She was now worried because of the walkers being so close to the farm. So, maybe being in the tree and able to see everything made her feel safe.

Carl tried to talk to Shane and give him the gun. Which worked, but, now he was up in the farmhouse, sitting on the roof. He was just sitting there, feeling upset still.

Casey was carving shapes and stuff in the trunk of the tree with her knife. She was kind of bored now that she thought of it. So, maybe carving into the tree was a fun option.

Her gun still rested in her waistband. She doubted that her parents would be okay with it, but, it was something she and Carl could keep to themselves...right?

She looked around the premises of the farm. She knew that her dad and Daryl would be leaving soon to let Randall out, just leaving him all alone in the middle of nowhere.

But, now something was off...Now there was commotion from the back of the shed. She furrowed her eyebrows as she watched.

She bit her lip, standing up slightly on the large branch so she could see over the shed. She balanced, one hand on the trunk.

And that's when she saw it.

Shane and Randall. Shane was practically dragging him away from the shed, and Randall was loose. Tape over his mouth and his eyes covered. She went wide-eyed.

She quickly started climbing down from the tree. She didn't know what to do. Get her dad to get Shane or go after him herself...

She started to sneak around over to the shed...then behind it.

They were still in view, Shane practically dragging him away. She furrowed her eyebrows again.

Why was he still taking him away?

She quietly, but quickly scrambled behind the tree as the pair walked off. But they suddenly came to a stop. Randall falls to the ground, and Shane tries to get him up.

He started by taking that blindfold off so he could look at him. "Hey. Sh. Sh. Sh. Hey, hey. Come on. Come on." Randall whimpered in pain and fear. What was happening? Why was he out of the shed? "I get it. I'm the last face you probably want to see, huh? Listen, I'm gonna take you up outta here, okay? I'm gonna get this off of you so you can breathe, but I want you to keep quiet. Listen good you hear me? Okay?" He asked him. Randall started nodding his head, his voice muffled because of the duct tape. "Don't do nothing stupid." He groaned as the tape was peeled off of his mouth.

Casey looked a bit over, trying to get a better view. Randall kept whimpering and Shane shushed him. She quickly got back behind the tree, sensing that Shane was looking up.

"Now you're group—You know where they're at?" He asked, Randall shook his head no.

"No, I don't. I really-" Shane slapped him, making him fall back slightly. Casey put her back against the tree, taking deep breaths as she heard what was going on.

She closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat as she breathed heavily. Not again, not again. She clenched her shirt in her hand, continuing to take deep breaths also while trying to be quiet.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

She counted in her head, trying to calm down. Come on, Casey. Come on!

"Get your little ass up here. Now I'm the only shot of you gettin' outta these woods alive. You hear me? Now you start talkin', boy. Where are they at?" Randall breathed heavily as Shane grabbed his collar, pointing a finger at him.

"We had a camp set up off the highway...'bout five miles from here. Who knows if they're still there?" Shane nodded, putting a fake smile on his face as he looked at the boy.

"Okay. So now you gonna take me to 'em?" Shane questioned.

"Why?"

"Because, man, I-I'm just-I'm done with this group, man. They doomed and I want no part of it. That's all." That made Casey feel worse, almost sick. She clenched the collar of her shirt harder. Shane couldn't be right. There was no way! They had the farm and everything! Cows, chickens, everything they could need to survive.

"So you're not gonna kill me?" Randall asked, feeling slightly reassured.

Shane started standing up, pulling Randall with him. "Come on, man. If I was, you'd be dead. Come on." He pushed him along in the opposite direction of Casey, going further into the woods.

He pushed him forward as Casey took one more deep breath, opening her eyes. She turned to look at them, quietly going behind another tree, making sure to hide behind a few just in case he turned or anything.

"Hey, you ain't gotta be so rough. We're on the same side now. You're gonna like it with us. Gets a little crazy sometimes, but it's a tough bunch 'a guys. You'll fit in good!" A stick next to Casey snapped, and she quickly went behind a tree again. Shane turned, checking behind him once again.

He saw nothing.

"Less talkin', more walkin'."

"Look, I run my mouth when I get nervous. I can't help it, I got a lot goin' on, ya know?" He rambled off. Casey raised her eyebrows at the boy.

"It ain't all about you." Shane kept checking behind him, sensing that someone was there.

But he saw no one.

"I-I ain't sayin' it's about me. Just tryna-" Casey heard a snap and then a thump.

Then a scream...from Randall. She quietly ran over behind a bush to get a closer view of what was happening.

That's when she saw him on the ground, his neck cracked. Her breath got caught in her throat as she stared from behind the bush.

She took a bunch of deep breaths, trying to calm down.

Uncle Shane killed Randall.
Uncle Shane killed Randall.
Uncle Shane killed Randall.
Uncle Shane is bad.

Shane stepped away from Randall and then looked over at that bush. Shane let out a scoff, seeing Casey there. She was wide-eyed, pale, and afraid.

She started sprinting away from Shane, closer to the farm. He was behind her, quick on her tail.

She was going as fast as she could, trying to get to the farm quickly. Trying not to trip or fall on the sticks or rocks as she did. Shane was the same way, except he wasn't going after the farm. He was going after the eight-year-old little girl who he had considered his niece.

There was only one thing he could do.

Kill her.

Kill the little girl who called him Uncle Shane. Kill the little girl who he held as a baby, the one he called a goddaughter and a niece.

Get rid of her.

Simple as that.

He was running behind her, catching up. She was sprinting as fast as she could to get away, but, he was catching up.

He tackled her from behind, and she hit her face off the front of a tree trunk, bloodying her lip. She lifted her head, seeing Shane step over her. He crouched down in front of her, coming into her line of vision.

Casey had never been so afraid of someone before. Sure, Jenner gave her the creeps and Merle was a bit scary, but, the most fear she ever had was of Walkers.

But right now was when she realized that Walkers weren't the only thing she had to worry about anymore...

He lifted her head by her hair, pulling out his gun. "Come on, Case. Why'd ya have to stick your nose into this, huh?" He put the gun up against her forehead, tears filling up her eyes. "To much like your daddy, tryin' to make things right. Goin' after things you don't have to." He pressed the gun into the pale skin of her forehead, leaving an imprint there.

Her breath got caught in her throat again, her chest feeling like it was caving in on her. "I won't- I won't tell, Uncle Shane. Please-" He saw the fear in her face, seeing the pleading look in her eyes as she begged him not to shoot her.

If you ever told Casey that her Uncle Shane, the man she had lived and adored would one day try to kill her, she would call you insane.

She tried to think of the times with Shane when she was happy. Like when he would teach her how to fight, or shoot a gun. When he would run around the backyard at her house, or help Rick and Lori out sometimes. When after her wrist surgery he bought her a gallon of her favorite ice cream.

But she couldn't see that version of him anymore. All she could see was a scary man who held her at gun point. One who had been so angry at her for all these weeks.

But thinking about that made her mad. It made her want to just hit and slap at him. And you could tell by the look on her face and the harsh glare in her tear filled eyes as she glanced up at the man.

Shane looked down at her, seeing that little girl. The one he taught how to fight and hit to use a gun. The one he would take out to constant lunches. The one who he held as a baby.

She looked up at him. Despite the tears in her eyes, and the paleness of her skin. She didn't look as afraid. What she did look was angry.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to muster up the courage to shoot his niece square in the face. She took a deep breaths, watching his expression contort into a different one.

Like he was struggling, which he was. He didn't know if he could do it now. If he did keep her alive, it also wouldn't be good. He knew she'd tell them. Tell them how her Uncle Shane held a gun to her head and nearly pulled the trigger. Then, either Rick or Lori would kill him.

That wasn't the only thing holding him back...

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't kill her himself.

He nodded his head before moving the gun away from her forehead. Relief went into her body, thinking that he might spare her.

She started to get onto her hands, trying to push herself off of the ground. She spit the blood out from her mouth before looking over at Shane.

She was angry.

Really, really angry.

Shane fell back onto his feet, staring at her with brown eyes that had little to no expression.

Before she could do or say anything, Shane spoke up. "Sorry, kiddo." He whipped his gun across her face, hitting her cheekbone. Her head dropped to the ground, blood leaking from the side of her face, a red mark forming that would soon be a bruise.

If she'd live that long...

                       𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟