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APPARENTLY, ANDREA SHOT DARYL. At first, she was shocked, because what could have happened between them for it to escalate that much? But then, Rick told her it was an accident and explained what happened. So, Daryl was bedridden for the rest of the day. When Juliette went to visit him to show him she made it back okay, (after Rick told her to), he seemed . . . not so happy to have been shot.
Jules left that room feeling more guilty than when she walked in. If she tried harder to look for Daryl, and went down the hill, she surely would have found him eventually. If she did find him, and went back with him, Andrea wouldn't have shot him thinking he was a walker.
Technically speaking it was all her fault. Okay, mostly her fault, even if Daryl denied it and said she did the right thing. Even then, it ate away at her. She couldn't stomach eating dinner that night, so she sat in silence, ignoring the looks from a certain older man: Dale.
Jules was tired and exhausted. She walked for hours on end, and was instantly bombarded with questions from multiple people. The worst part was Shane banning her from leaving the farm until he got over the whole matter. It seemed to her that he was more mad at himself than her. Because of this, she had to miss out on shooting lessons Shane and Rick were giving everyone. She didn't mind, but she was missing out.
Everything was just too much for her. It was weighing her down, making it hard for her to move. Figuratively.
The next morning, Daryl had been moved to his tent. When Jules saw Andrea walk out of the tent, that was her signal to go in.
She tapped her knuckles against the cloth of his tent, jokingly knocking on it even if it didn't make a sound. "Anyone home?" she voiced, hearing an agitated groan from the other side.
"Go away. Already talked to the blonde bitch." Jules could hear him shuffling around in his tent, more than likely trying to adjust to a more comfortable position.
"Can't get rid of me that easily. I'm coming in." Jules zipped the tent open, being met with the face of an unamused Daryl Dixon. She mustered a smile, carefully stepping in as to not mess with anything he had littered on the ground. "How do you feel?"
"Like horseshit. You done now?" She shook her head, sitting in the corner and crisscrossing her legs, hands on her knees. "Don't you have things to do?"
"Not much after Shane forbid me from doing about anything I could. Said I'm too young to be doing anything anyway. I'm useless to the group as of now," Jules griped, toying with her shoelace casually.
