Witchcraft | A Daryl Dixon Love Story

Infected

"This sucks," my voice was quiet and emotionless as I began unpacking mine and Daryl's bedding in the corner of the Greene's living room. We started the day with Dale's funeral, followed by a grief fueled walker beatdown around the property's perimeter, and now we had finally started moving into the farmhouse after Hershel's invitation.

"Well it ain't the billagio, but-" Maggie started sarcastically, cut off by a pillow thrown by yours truly.

"I'm not talking about your house, Greene," I managed a laugh, rolling my eyes, "I just mean about Randall." Maggie nodded in response, putting a hand on my shoulder briefly before helping me lay out blankets. "We tried setting him loose at first, but it didn't work. Then we were gonna kill him, but that didn't happen either," I let out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose in attempts to stop any tears that threatened to fall, "And Dale fought so hard for this outcome only to die the day before he could see it."

"Cruel how things work out sometimes," Maggie offered, not quite knowing what to say, "I wonder how the billagio looks now though, speakin' of..." she glanced over at me, a smirk forming on her lips. She knew me too well; a dumb joke really could distract me from anything.

"God, I'd kill to see a walker in stripper heels," I thought aloud, looking up at the ceiling for dramatic effect before looking back at Maggie and snickering, "I gotta go grab more stuff, I'll be right back, yeah?" I started walking towards the door, still laughing a bit as I went. Seeing a walker-fied Vegas really would be something... I'll have to thank Maggie later for giving me a thought that would surely distract me all day. As I made my way towards the area Daryl and I had previously been occupying to grab the last of our things I was so lost in my apocalyptic Vegas fantasy that I almost didn't see Carl scurry up to me.

"Hey Kenzie?" Carl waved a hand in front of me, trying to get my attention, "Earth to Kenzie!"

"Knock it off man," I laughed, swatting his hands away, "I see ya, what's up?"

"If, um... If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell my parents?"

"Ah man, I knew this day would come someday..." I ran my hands down my face, only imagining what I would have to hide from my sister, "You know I'm the worst liar in existence, right Carl?" I offered him an empathetic glance, but he just started walking away. "Carl, c'mon," I called out walking after him, relieved that he had stopped after a few steps, "No matter how shit of a liar I am I'll always be on your side, you know that." I crouched down, pulling him into a hug, "What's going on?" I asked as I pulled away, eye level to my nephew.

"I took it from Daryl's motorcycle..." Carl admitted, guiltily pulling a gun from the back of his pants' waistband and offering it to me, "If he found out I took it, he'd kill me."

"First of all, you know if Daryl tried to kill you I'd kill him first, right?" I joked, poking Carl's cheek before taking the gun from his hands, thankful he smiled even just a little, "But Carl, why did you take this?"

"It's my fault," he blurted, instantly looking down at his feet as he began kicking the dirt. He was obviously guilty about something, but I didn't yet know what. I just looked thoughtfully at him and held my silence until he was ready to keep talking. "Dale," his voice was more firm than it had been, "It's my fault that he died."

I scrunched my eyebrows together, not quite understanding what Carl was trying to tell me. I just looked at him thoughtfully, making sure he had nothing else to say before saying something myself, "Carl, Dale was killed by a walker," I recollected, taking his small hand in mine, "There's no way that was your fault-"

"I saw that walker," he stated adamantly, "I was gonna shoot it." I took both his hands in mine now, letting him know that I was still on his side. He didn't have to worry about telling me these things. Hell, I wanted him to tell me these things so he could at least have one person he didn't have to worry about yelling at him. "It was stuck in the mud, I was throwing rocks at it n' stuff," Carl sighed, still looking down at his feet, "But I was gonna shoot it... Shoot it right in the head," he finally met my eyes, "And then it got free, came after me and... I ran away."