SARAH
Sarah could not stop thinking about Dale's eyes and his disappointment in all of them. She couldn't blame him; she really couldn't. She'd felt guilty for the entire day, and she still felt it, even though thinking of Randall dying was still a reassuring thought. And that scared her.
Who was she becoming? A frightened little girl or a heartless one? She really had no idea. But surely she didn't want Nicki to be either.
"Figured ya'd be here," Daryl's voice came from behind her as she was working on the car.
"I was just hoping to find somewhere quiet," she answered, oiling the pedals.
"Did ya?" he asked.
Sarah nodded her head. "It is quiet," she said, "But I forgot I can still think. " And boy, if she was thinking...
"What are you doing here?" she asked, standing up to face the man. He was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed.
"Saw ya shaken up," he muttered, "Wanted ta know if ya were holding up."
Sarah passes a hand through her hair, feeling her mouth quiver, and her eyes sting. She really didn't want to cry, but she couldn't hold it in anymore, so she let some tears slip from her eyes.
"I'm trying to," she said, nodding her head, "As umm... as I'm trying not to feel guilty either way," he was observing her in silence, and that made her chuckle saddly, "God, you must think I'm a stupid little girl."
A stupid, frightened little girl who could not even make a decision without second thoughts. A little girl that always needed protection.
"I don'," he whispered, and that made her eyes widened. They both looked at each other in silence for some moments. Sarah did not know what to say, but she felt grateful for his words. Daryl chewed on his lip before looking down.
"I..." he whispered, "I gotta go." Sarah nodded her head. It was dark outside. They had decided to execute Randall at that time. Daryl, Shane, and Rick would have taken care of that.
"Daryl," she called for him before he could exit. Her voice made him stop and turn to look at her, "If you need to talk after..." she bit her lips, stopping herself from going any further. "Just... just know you can talk to me."
Daryl's blue eyes looked at her in silence for some long moments, but at the end, he nodded his head before exiting the cabin, closing the door behind his back. Sarah observed the door, standing where she was, wondering how Daryl must have felt in that situation. She didn't find it fair that the three of them had to witness Randall's execution—or do it.
She just hoped that was the right choice and that they weren't killing an innocent person. She really hoped that.
She had been working on the car for another hour. Heshel had been kind enough to give her some fuel so she could get it started if she ever managed. Sarah had fixed the pedals and the breaks as Dale had taught her. She had connected wires and changed the headlights. The engine was old, but it seemed functional. She really wanted to try to make it work.
If I fix this, I can fix everything, she thought.
Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed in the night. Sarah was quick to grab a screwdriver running outside. Someone was screaming at the top of his lungs. The screams came from the fields, in the opposite direction compared to the house.
As she was running, she noticed another figure come from the cabin where Randall had been locked up.
"Daryl!" she called for him as she ran.
"What's goin' on?" he asked without stopping.
"I think it's Dale," she answered, her voice filled with fear. As they got closer, she recognized his voice. Her body didn't stop, but her blood felt cold inside her veins. They had to go to him fast.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed as they began to see its frame. Dale was lying on the grass, and on top of him was a walker. The man was trying to fight him off, but the monster wouldn't move.
"Sarah!" Daryl called her, eyeing the screwdriver.
"Catch!" she said, throwing it in his direction, and he caught it with one hand.
As they got closer, Daryl launched himself on the walker, forcing it to fall away from Dale. Sarah was quick to move towards the man, but a cry came out of her mouth as she noticed his abdomen.
"Dale!" she said, kneeling next to the man, feeling her tears fill her eyes. He wasn't even able to talk due to the pain.
"Look at me," she said, grabbing his hand and caressing his forehead. It's going to be okay," she said.
"Help!" Daryl yelled from next to her, moving his arms to make it easier for the other to find them, "Over here!"
"We have to do something," she muttered; one of her hands moved to the wound, but she only got covered in blood. His abdomen was ripped apart.
"Hang in there, buddy," Daryl said to Dale, who gripped Sarah's hand harder.
"Oh my god!" Rick's voice made her realize that the other had arrived, but she was looking at Dale. The tears in her eyes were uncontrollable at that point. She didn't know what to do. What could she do?
Rick kneeled in front of Sarah, on the other side of Dale, telling him to keep looking at him.
"Get Hershel!" he yelled.
"Hang on, Dale," Andrea had arrived as well, taking Dale's other hand. Sarah was crying, gripping Dale's hand hard. That could not be happening. That was not fair. Why did that happen?
Soon, everyone arrived, and among them there was Hershel.
"What can we do?" asked Rick.
"Please, help him," Sarah whispered. Her voice was hoarse, and only whimpers left her mouth.
Could he do it? Could Hershel save him? He had saved Carl, and he could have done it with Dale as well. He had to.
"Can we move him?" Rick asked. Dale only moaned for the pain, making Sarah let out more and more tears.
"He won't make the trip," Hershel said.
Rick then wanted Hershel to operate Dale there, but Hershel stopped him with a hand on his arm and a grave expression.
Sarah could only cry, as did everyone else. There was no hope for Dale. The gentle Dale. The first person that she, Nicki and Glenn had met on that Highway when everything went to hell. Dale, who had taken care of all of them like a father. Dale that they had all let down. That was not fair. That could not be.
What did they have to do now? He was suffering, he was in pain, he was still alive. What did they have to do?
"He is suffering," Andrea cried, "Do something," she begged.
Sarah's eyes widened as Rick took his gun. He was going to shoot him.
"Oh, my God," Sarah sobbed before kissing Dale's hand.
Rick was breathing heavily. His hands shook as he pointed the gun, aiming toward Dale's hand. Sarah could only cry, not able to move. She could not leave Dale, but she was terrorized by what was about to happen.
Then she saw it. Daryl's hand moved to grab Rick's. He gently took the gun from his hand, then he knelt across from Sarah, and for a moment, their eyes met. The girl sobbed more as he looked at Dale. The gun pointed against his forehead.
"Sorry, brother," Daryl said before shooting.
The sound echoed in the fields, and some birds flew from the trees where they were resting. The gunshot had been so loud, but not the cries that arose from the silence of the night.
Dale was dead. Sarah felt his hand become limp in her hold, and she started sobbing, doing all she could not to look at Dale's face. She didn't want to remember him like that, she really couldn't. Her gaze raised, and it fell on Daryl. He was looking at Dale, the gun still in his hand. He did what none of them could, and he helped Rick, like not even Shane had been able to do it. Sarah kissed Dale's hand one more time before gently laying it on the ground. Then she moved to Daryl. Her hand reached out delicately, brushing his shoulder, trying to see his reaction. When he didn't move away, she knelt next to him; her hand went to the one that was holding the gun, pulling it away from him. She took his hand in hers, linking their fingers together. Then she leaned her head on his shoulder, letting out a sob, as she looked at Dale's body, but not his face.
They all stood there; Sarah was not sure for how long. They mourned their friend, but no one had been able to move. Rick, Shane, Andrea, and Hershel. And Glenn, Maggie, and Patricia. Carol and T-dog. And Lori, Carl, and Nicki. She had now noticed her sister. She was standing behind Lori, who was lying down with her son in her arms. Nicki's cheek was wet because of the tears, her bow in hand, gripping it firmly. She should have not seen that. None of them should have seen that. That should not have happened. Not to Dale. The group would have never been the same without Dale. She sobbed again against Daryl's shoulder. He was not crying; he was only staring at Dale, but his fingers tightened around Sarah's.