Detached [TWD Fanfiction]

Chapter 6

Somehow it seemed that the only person who didn't feel guilty for Dale's death was the one person who had actually killed him. They'd spent the night burying him and held the funeral the next morning. Lucy, as the group now knew her, didn't attend. There had been no expectation for her to, and she had barely even known the man. She didn't think funerals were worth the time these days anyway. Instead she had decided walk around the edge of the trees, checking the fences and gates for a way that the walker could have gotten in. The farm wasn't designed to keep them out, but this was the first they'd had, and if she was staying another day she wanted to be useful.

It had taken her an hour to get around half of the farm. She was taking her sweet time. It was good to be away from people for a while. She had slept in a tree on the edge of the woods, keeping her promise of being with the group but also not wanting to be too near to them. Sticky from the heat, she leant against a gate, looking into the trees. She couldn't help but think about walking away for good this time, leaving the area like she'd told Daryl she would before, but she only had a couple knives with her. She'd need her bag, and even if it wasn't for that it didn't feel right to ditch the group after what had happened.

'Lucy,' Daryl called out, drawing her attention away from the forest.

'Just because you know my name doesn't mean you have to use it,' she sighed, beginning to continue walking around. He walked with her.

'What you did last night. It was the right thing,' he started. She rolled her eyes, expecting a typical pep talk and check up.

'It needed to be done. Rick couldn't.'

'Not that.' Lucy looked up at him, frowning in confusion. 'Telling him your name,' he added. She had been thinking about it almost constantly. It was exactly what she'd wanted to avoid but she'd really had no choice.

'Couldn't exactly tell him no,' she replied.

'How bad can it be, people knowing your name. It's not like you told everyone your worst fear,' he asked her.

'You all knew his name. None of you could do it. You were attached to him,' she started. 'I saw you look at Rick's gun. You wanted to and even you couldn't.' Daryl looked for something to say, but she was right. He knew he'd wanted to do it, to get it over with, but in the end he just couldn't.

'We knew more than his name though. Knew half the man's life,' Daryl pointed out to her.

'It starts there. Then you want to know more. Here you are talking to me, using my name. What if I hadn't been there to do it? What if you all get attached to me and I'm in his position, and none of you can do it?' She asked him. Her voice had stayed calm, like she had thought about all of this before. He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been thinking about it all day.

'Lets make a deal,' he said, coming to a halt and turning to face her. 'If you decide to stick around and that's ever one of us, we do it for each other. No attachments.'

'It's not like you can help getting attached to someone,' Lucy pointed out.

'Fine. Attachments and all, we still do it,' he retorted. He held out a hand, hoping that she would accept his offer. She spent a few long moments looking at him, debating the offer in her mind, until she finally came to a decision. She shook his hands.

'If you don't, and I die in pain, I'm gonna kill you,' she commented.

'Yeah, I don't doubt that.' They both chuckled gently, until they found a breech in the fence. The barbed wire was torn out of the post and had shreds of flesh hanging from it. There wasn't a lot they could do without tools, so they stood the post up straight and headed back to the house. When they made it back, Patricia and Beth had made lunch. It was mostly cold potatoes and meat, probably left overs, but Daryl and Lucy both took a plate and headed outside, sitting on the porch. Lori and Carol, who stayed in the kitchen, watched them through the window.