**Complete**
Riley Grimes. The baby sister of Rick Grimes, a Sheriff's Deputy in King County, Georgia, a real southern man with a southern wife, southern son, and southern best friend, he's a survivor. Riley though? She moved to Maine when she turne...
A/N: Hey guys, I'm really sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I went through a pretty bad breakup a few days after I posted the last chapter, and it's been kind of hard to write about love when you've just been through sometime like that. So I'm really sorry! But I didn't want to give you guys crappy chapters, so I hope this one is better than the ones I tried to write the past few days.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Daryl and I were in Carl's room, getting updated on how he was doing while everyone else waited outside for the rest of the group to show up.
"Pressure is stable. Fever's gone down." Hershel said quietly from the doorway as we all looked between him and Carl, who still looked incredibly pale, and was sleeping on the bed. We waited there in silence for a few more minutes, Daryl was leaned up against the window, staring at the ground in silence, I was sat by Carl's head on the bed, and Rick and Lori were in the chairs on his other side. We could hear people outside talking, but no one moved.
And I was so glad we didn't since almost as soon as I was going to get up and go see everyone, Carl began to move.
"Carl?" I asked frantically, putting my hands on his cool cheeks. I could hear Lori saying 'baby' behind me, but I ignored her. She would go screw herself.
"Sophia? Is she okay?" Carl whimpered out when his eyes finally opened and they locked onto mine.
"Just rest Carl, we'll be right here, okay?" I whispered, not wanted to lie to him, but also not wanting to have him freak out and try to get out of bed.
"Okay." He whispered before falling back to sleep. I sighed and sat back, removing my hands from his face, and when I looked over, Rick looked extremely happy, Daryl looked more relaxed, and Lori looked livid.
"What Lori?" I asked, trying to get off the bed, but the exhaustion, mixed with the new baby weight I had gained over the past week or two made it kind of difficult, thankfully, Daryl noticed and grabbed my hand to pull me up.
"He is my son! Why would you make it so he only talked to you?" Lori hissed out, and when I looked over at her, it looked like she was trying to stand up, but Rick had a tight hand around her elbow, and his eyes were stormy when they looked at her.
"Honestly Lori... for the past few days... you've been acting like his 'mother' not like his mom. He needs a mom, but you aren't acting like it! What kind of mom would think that death for their child is better than life! He needed a mom, so I stepped in. You want to be his mom again? Act like it." I didn't let her say anything back, just turned and stormed out of the room, and out onto the porch where the sounds of talking were coming from.
When I walked out there, Glenn, T and Merle were talking to Dale, Carol, and Andrea, but Shane was no where to be seen.
"How is he?" Merle asked first, once everyone quieted down upon Daryl's and my arrival.
"He'll pull through, he was awake and asking about Sophia just a moment ago." I said, with a sad little smile over at Carol, who looked like she could cry at any moment.
"What happened?" Dale asked quietly, and I figured we should probably move off the porch in case Patricia came out and heard us talking about the blunder that cost Otis his life. So after we moved further down away from the house I answered his question.
"Hunting accident. Hershel's man... Otis. He shot a deer, went straight through into Carl. Buckshot, Hershel said. Hershel tried to get the pieces out, but Carl was loosing too much blood. Rick and Daryl took turns giving him some, but it wasn't helping. He needed stuff to do surgery... so Otis and Shane went out to this FEMA shelter down the way. Shane came back with the stuff we needed. Otis didn't make it." Everyone was silent for a long time, stewing over what I told them, but I definitely didn't miss the looks Daryl and Merle exchanged when I mentioned Otis not coming back, and definitely didn't miss that Dale saw it too.
><><><><
"Jesus Christ. Praise be to him for the gift of our brother Otis, for his span of years, for his abundance fo character. Otis, who gave his life to save a child's, now more than ever, our most precious asset. 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?" Hershel asked as we all stared down at the pile of stones that was supposed to represent Otis' body, since we didn't have a body to bury.
"I'm not good at it. I'm sorry." Shane said gruffly, his head shaved, and wearing an oversized set of overalls that probably used to be Otis'.
"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 said, sobbing out her sentences, and I grabbed Daryl's hand. I hope I never have to experience the pain that is in her voice.
Daryl glanced down at me, and I guess he could see the fear in my face, because he pulled his hand out of mine, and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into him.
"Okay. 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... 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 every had meaning, it was his."
