Daryl's Girl

Chapter 47

We stopped just outside the barn and I stood opposite Carl waiting for him to speak. The look on his face becoming more and more unsure as he looked back at me. He couldn't even look me in the eye making me question what did he have to say to make him feel like he needed so much privacy.

Finally, after a minute or two, he took a deep breath and the words started slowly falling from his mouth. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell my parents?' He asked.

"That's probably a bad idea for the both of us." I sighed. As much as I didn't want to betray Carl's trust, I didn't want to keep secrets anymore. Secrets get people killed.

I knew he was disappointed as he shook his head and slowly began making his way back up to the house. It looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. The least I could do was listen. I could decide what do do with what he tells me later. He had wanted to talk to me after all. 

"Carl." I called over and he stopped to look at me. "What did you want to tell me?"

For a second Carl stood where he was, I think trying to decide if he should tell me or not, before he nodded and walked back over. A guilty, uneasy look appearing on his face as he stood opposite me. That was when I noticed something sticking out of his back pocket. "Carl, what have you got there?"

Carl reached into his belt and pulled out a gun. "I took it from Daryl's motorcycle. If he found out I took it, he'd kill me."

He placed the gun into my hands and I unloaded the clip. It was still full. "What were you doing with this?" I asked.

Just like before, Carl couldn't look at me as he began scraping his foot on the ground. "Dale." He sighed. I was confused. What did the gun have to do with Dale? "It's my fault that he died."

"Carl, how could you say that. It's not your fault. Dale got bit by a walker. Why you-"

"I saw that walker." He interrupted. "I was gonna shoot it. It was stuck in the mud. I was throwing rocks at it and stuff, but I was gonna do it, shoot it right in the head." He was rambling at this point. "It got free, came after me and...I ran away. If I had killed it, Dale would still be here."

I glanced at the gun, still in my hands, and looked back at Carl. "Carl, I want you to stop that, okay? This isn't your fault, but you need to keep this. You need it to protect yourself. We won't always be around to keep an eye on you. Only you can do that. I'll deal with Daryl." I replied, trying to hand the gun back to him. He wouldn't take it. "Carl, please, take it."

Carl shook his head. "I'm never touching another gun again."

"Carl that's not an opt-"

"Just give it back to Daryl!" He yelled and, at that, made his way back up to the house leaving me standing next to the barn with Daryl's gun in my hands.

Out of all the things I thought he could've told me, I never thought I'd hear him say something like that. I should've known, deep down, that it had to be something important for him to want to talk to me alone. He wouldn't have gone to all that effort otherwise. I just didn't expect any of it. 

How can he blame himself for what happened? No one could've known. It wasn't his fault.

As I stood there thinking, I looked around for Daryl so that I could give his gun back to him and spotted him on top of the shed where Randall was being held. He was hammering some boards across the windows, minimizing any chance of escaping through them, if in the unlikely event, he got free.

I was about to head over when I stopped. Whether I give Daryl his gun back or not, Carl still needed one. It's like I said to him, we can't watch him everyday, all day. He needs to protect himself and learn that he doesn't need to be afraid to kill walkers like I used to be. Rick could give him that.