Future Ghosts • TWD

104. Goodbye.

Daryl passed Judith over to Rosita and watched quietly as Rosie joined Rick and Michonne at the end of the sewer, where Carl was sitting. Rosie had been keeping it together. From Fraser's hoodie tearing, to Negan showing up, to the bombs, to this sewer, Rosie had stayed calm. She was bottling it all in. Carl would be the last thing she could take, and Daryl knew it. 

Rosie pulled her backpack off of her shoulders, focusing more on taking out the letters Carl asked for than looking at Carl himself. When she finally did look up at him, her eyebrows furrowed. He was leaning against the wall, his skin was pale, his eyes were rimmed with red, and his body was coated with a layer of sweat. Rick was crouched down in front of him, and Rosie stood a few feet away with Michonne. 

Slowly, Carl lifted the end of his shirt, revealing his abdomen. On the left side of his stomach, a white bandage was taped to his skin. He peeled back the bandage, revealing a nasty, bloody bite mark. Michonne shuttered and dropped to her knees next to Rick. Rosie didn't say or do anything, just staring at the bite mark until Carl covered it back up. After that, she just stared at the shirt covering the wound. 

It took a second for Rosie to realize she had stopped breathing. She sucked in a deep, heavy breath, processing. Carl's eyes were red and droopy, like Fraser's had been when all the cops and medics were there. But Carl- Carl was still breathing. He was still alive, but he was dying, and Rosie couldn't do anything to stop it. Maybe Fraser had been dying for a few days, too, but Rosie couldn't see it. Maybe he had been falling ill, like Carl was. But when Fraser was dying, Rosie couldn't see it, because his skin wasn't pale and his eyes weren't rimmed with red and his body wasn't coated in a layer of sweat. Because Fraser was dying on the inside before he died on the outside, and Rosie couldn't see it. Rosie couldn't see that Fraser was dying, and she couldn't save him, and now Rosie could see that Carl was dying, and she still couldn't save him. 

Her hand still held the stack of letters from beside Carl's bed. They were goodbye letters. They were goodbye letters because this was the last time Rosie was ever going to see Carl because he was going to be dead. Rosie let the letters drop to the floor. She turned to look at Siddiq, who was sitting on the ground by the opposite wall. Rosie knew when Carl got bit. She didn't recognize it then- that defeated look on his face when he stood back up, off of the ground. That defeated look was the look people had when they became someone who was dying. Jim had it. Bob had it. And now Carl had it. 

Carl got bit, and Carl was dying because Siddiq wanted to honor his mom. Because he was stupid enough to believe that people were more than their brains, because he was stupid enough to believe that he was freeing walkers' souls, because he was stupid enough to go after a group of walkers rather than avoiding them. Carl was dying because of him. 

"This is your fault," Rosie said to Siddiq, her voice all shaky. As soon as she let herself speak, the lump in her throat turned into tears. She made herself look angry, because being angry felt better than grieving. "You killed him."

"It's not his fault, Rosie," Carl's weak, tired voice spoke. Rosie didn't want to look at him. When she looked at him, she saw him dead, and then she saw Fraser dead, and then she wished it was her who was dead. "It just happened. I got bit," Carl said, at peace with it. It didn't matter if Carl was at peace with it, because Rosie wasn't, and she couldn't be.

"We killed those walkers because he wanted to honor his mom," Rosie said, gesturing to Siddiq with frustration. She didn't give Carl time to argue. "We coulda' left 'em, but he wanted to honor his mom, and you got bit. Now you're dyin' and it's his fault! He should be the one dyin'! It's his fault!" Rosie said, her voice getting louder and more full of emotion with every word she said.