It’d been years, too many damn years. Shane had gotten into the same mindset that everyone else no doubt had gotten into thinking of him. That they were all dead. But then he’d found them, no, not them. Only Carl. Seemed to him that he was the only one that had mattered. Carl and the baby, and Lori. And Rick, sometimes Rick. When guilt got to getting at him. Because no matter how hard he tried there wasn’t any convincing himself that he wasn’t human no more, that Rick had never been his brother.
But all that, none of it mattered no more. There was just Carl. Carl so much older than he remembered but still the boy, the boy he knew. The one he’d known since he was born, the boy he had loved, the one he had wished was his once and maybe even now. And he was sitting there with a bite on his shoulder. A deep, bleeding bite. And there was no way of saving him.
Carl knew that, of course he knew. And that’s why he said those words. Shane had always thought he was made for this word. That the strength he’d been given was for this hell. But this, this was too much for even him. Like Sophia. But, no, this was worse than Sophia. This was Carl. And Shane found he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if…if what? He killed him? He had killed before. But this was Carl. He tried to kill Rick. His brother. But Carl…Carl…
But he couldn’t say that to him. That would show weakness. And the last thing that Carl needed to hear was that he had been weak. But why not? He knew that Carl had to be angry with him. There was a harshness taking over his eyes now, a darkness towards him. It had never been like that before. Never.
But the words repeated. On and on and on.
Shane swallowed harshly and lifted the gun, pressed the heated barrel to Carls forehead and closed his eyes. But instead of the mans face he saw the boys with his eyes shut. His hand shook and then he lowered the gun.
He couldn’t. He was weak.
