Caroline was the girl who never escaped, no matter how hard she tried. Even when the dead started walking. But meeting him made her want to try even harder.
"You're gonna miss me when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon. I've already made my mark on you."
"Doubt...
"Day 43... today we buried Otis... Well, kind of. There was no body, so we decided to make a memorial. I've never been to a funeral, so I didn't really know what to expect. All I knew is that someone I cared about was dead... and it probably wasn't going to be a one-time-thing."
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THE NEXT MORNING, Caroline was out with the others, collecting rocks for Otis' memorial. Her father gave her a nice bruise on her side, making it difficult to hide the pain as she bent down to get a rock.
While they were doing that, they heard a motorcycle's engine. They all turned towards the road where they saw the RV, car, and motorcycle heading towards the farm, "How is he?" An older man with a beard and fishing hat asked as the group approached the house,
"He'll pull through, thanks to Hershel and his people." Lori answered,
"And Shane. We'd have lost Carl if not for him." Rick said,
The group hugged the two parents along with T-Dog and Glenn, "How'd it happen?"
"Hunting accident. That's all... Just a stupid accident." Rick answered,
Within the hour everyone was gathered around the pile of rocks. Beth placed one down before walking over to Caroline, who held her hand.
"Blessed be God, father of our lord Jesus Christ. Praise be to him for the gift of our brother Otis, for his span of years, for his abundance of character; Otis, who gave his life to save a child's, now more than ever, our most precious asset." Hershel prayed, "We thank you, God, for the peace he enjoys in your embrace. He died as he lived, in Grace. Shane, will you speak for Otis?"
"I'm not good at it. I'm sorry." Shane replied and Caroline narrowed her eyes at him,
"You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments. Please. I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning." Patricia cried and Shane took a step forward,
"During the memorial, Shane talked about Otis' last moments. I didn't believe one word that came out of that man's mouth. To me, it was all a lie. And anotherperson picked up on it, too. Daryl."
"Okay." Shane cleared his throat, not looking anyone in the eye, "We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad. Ankle all swollen up. 'We've got to save the boy.' See, that's what he said. He gave me his backpack. He shoved me ahead. 'Run,' he said. He said, 'I'll take the rear. I'll cover you.' And when I looked back..." Shane let out a sigh, "If not for Otis, I'd have never made it out alive. And that goes for Carl too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death ever had meaning, it was his." He said, looking at Patricia before placing a rock on his grave.
Caroline looked at him suspiciously before looking over at the man with the arms from the other day. He stared back and she quickly looked down at her feet with a blush on her cheeks, "Don't get attached, girly." Her dad growled in her ear, noticing the interaction between the two "They'll be dead or gone soon enough."
"Yes, sir." She mumbled back before wrapping an arm around a sobbing Beth,
"I hadmy first conversation with Daryl, even though my father told me to stay away. I should listen to him, I know what he gets like when I don't listen... but for somereason, those blue eyes reeled me in."
Caroline spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon washing clothes in a nearby stream.
She just finished the last piece of clothing when she heard rustling in the trees. Caroline grabbed the knife she took from the kitchen and stood up. The rustling became louder and she held the knife up higher.
She wasn't gonna lie. She was scared shitless. Caroline has never killed a roamer with a knife before. She always had her bat and wasn't even allowed to approach them.
The foliage parted and revealed Daryl Dixon. Caroline let out a sigh of relief and lowered the knife. Daryl narrowed his eyes at her, "What t'chu doin' out here, girl?"
"Laundry." She answered quietly,
"Out here?" He questioned,
"I need my alone time like everyone else does," Caroline replied and Daryl nodded.
"C'mon, girl. Let's head back before it gets dark."
Caroline rushed to get the basket of clothes and the knife slipped and cut her hand. She hissed in pain and clutched her hand. Daryl scoffed before walking over, grabbing her hand and pulling it towards him and mumbling about how she was a klutz and should pay more attention.
She whimpered as Daryl looked at her wound. He shook his head as he reached into the laundry basket and pulled out one of his only long-sleeved flannels. Daryl ripped the sleeve off and wrapped it around her hand and tied it into a knot.
Daryl looked at her face and furrowed his eyebrows when she was glaring at him, "Wha?"
"I just washed that!"
"He helped me. He didn't know me, but he destroyed his probably only long sleeved shirt to put on my wound. No one has ever helped me before."