Welp, guys. Sadly, this is the last installment of Like Father Like Son :( I honestly can't believe that I made it this far. I thought that I would never end it and that it would go unfinished and undiscovered, but hey, I made a special little epilogue :) for the last time for this story, please read and enjoy ^_^ hopefully I'll see you guys soon when I post my next TWD FanFic :) thanks! Lots of love 3

"Daryl?"

I raised my bowed head, looking up at the harsh light radiating from the sun dangling high in the sky. My arms were crossed and I was seated on one of the old, rusted bleachers, getting the fresh air and space I so desired after spending days regaining strength in a crammed and cluttered cell block. It felt nice to be outside again, to be exposed to the traditional environment that God had intended before civilization and modern advancements, to be bathed in a blanket of warmth from the sun while slightly chilled by a breeze filtering through the surrounding foliage that engulfed the prison, where the ghost of the Governor supposedly haunts. It soothed my tense nerves and cleared my head, dulling my thoughts. I needed to get away. There was no fighting between us, no conflict or anything. Everyone was cool, tranquil, and had resumed their daily routines of striving through a long day; cooking, cleaning, and maintaining the most lively lifestyle we could withstand amidst the presence of Walkers and the threat of the Governor. But, I was still healing, trying to regain the balance that was lost after the incident with Carter. What better way to heal and cleanse my wounds than to be in my most familiar and natural estate? The wildness. At least, being outdoors. Rick and Hershel were strict to keep me within the prison walls, but I bartered for a time to relax outside. They only agreed since there was some unfinished business to take care of that must be done on the paved lot.

Again, I told myself. Like a child. Treated like one 'til I'm better. Figures...

"Daryl?"

I glanced up, lost in thought, to see Glenn standing in front of me. I hid a grimace and huffed a sigh.

"Almost done?" I asked him, slightly annoyed.

No one made me angrier than Glenn. Sure, he was the nicest guy of them all, damn smart too, but ever since he returned from that run at that damn Walmart or whatever, his mood had grown sour. I suppose it was from Carter, an early detection of an untrustworthy person, but what confused me was why he didn't piece it together. It was obvious that Glenn didn't like Carter, but how come he never accused him? For a smart-ass, Asian geek like him, he should have known. Forgiven, to a certain degree, but tensions between us have been tight and cold. It was probably colder between him and Maggie.

Thicker skin...

"Uh..." Glenn said, checking over his shoulder to inspect a large pile of wood, arranged accordingly to take the form of a cone; easiest way for a flame to catch tinder and swallow the branches and twigs without dying. "Yeah. It's almost done."

"Great," I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

"Wait, Daryl?"

I raised my head, growing impatient.

"Uh huh?"

"Look," he said, growing tired as well. "I just wanted to apologize..."

My eyes grew wide, but I remained neutral.

"What for?" I persisted, not satisfied.

"Everything," Glenn admitted glumly.

I smirked, observing his reaction.

"'Kay," I said, shrugging it off.

"No," Glenn told me. "Daryl, I need to apologize. For real. And, and not just for anything. I mean, what happened between Carter and stuff...I feel like it's my fault."

"So you let him in?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Hell no!" Glenn spat, almost disgusted that I thought he has done so. "That was Rick's idea. Hated the guy already."

"I thought he saved ya ass."

"Could have saved myself," Glenn said grumpily, crossing his arms.

"Uh huh," I agreed sarcastically, shooting him a gloating look.

We both knew he would have been a goner if that Walker reached him. Rick said he was inches away before the bullet skewered the Walker's skull. No one could walk away from that.

"Hey, how come ya didn't like him? Like, still hate that bastard, but, ya know, he was nothin' but a stranger to y'all."

"Because I didn't want anymore members of our group," Glenn replied. "With the Governor stalking us and supplies running low, I mean, haven't we got enough mouths to feed? Supplies were running low already, and God knows how long it would even last.

"True," I told him, nodding somberly. "Man eats like a damn pig."

"Another week and he would have eaten half of it," Glenn said intelligently.

I shrugged.

"Okay, but, honestly, I hafta know; did ya ever consider Carter...?"

"Sort of," Glenn answered sheepishly, dropping his arms. "I almost went after that asshole until you told us that it was the Governor, and then..."

"...determination took over and that's all ya wanted," I finished for him, growing weary.

"I didn't know you had lied!" Glenn exclaimed in defense.

"Can't blame ya," I sighed.

"The Governor took Maggie," Glenn emphasized. "Okay? He- he made her do things to humiliate her, criticize her, just to spare my hand."

He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth.

"I- I don't want this man to run away knowing he had done that to the only person on this world that I love and care for. And, and then you told us that it was him and, man was I mad. I thought he had gone on a rampage. I thought he was going to kidnap someone, bomb the prison, I don't know but I just became so..."

"Man, chill," I told him, grimacing.

Glenn sighed, relaxing his hands so they dangled by his sides uselessly.

"You deserve an apology," Glenn said. "And, man, you have every right to be mad."

"Ain't mad," I told him earnestly. "I mean, yeah, I lied to ya so then I guess we are both at blame so whatever."

"I've just been treating you so bad and I felt like you would appreciate it if I explained myself..."

I shrugged.

"Man, it shouldn't be stressed over anymore. You were acting like that 'cause of the Governor. Carter does that. He got under everyone's skin..."

Thicker skin...

"He won't anymore," Glenn finished.

He picked up another log and placed it strategically in the pile, careful not to disturb other wood sources.

"Carter is going to be ashes in minutes. Frying him like a Walker."

"Rather be frying chicken," I retorted, biting my lip.

To that, Glenn happily chuckled, sending a small smile and an appreciated shrug my way.

"Sorry, man. Me too."

I couldn't hold back a smile either. It was the smallest of conversation. Casual, nonchalant, just discussing the past few days, and suddenly, everything swiveled around back to normal. Glenn, though still furious at the Governor, had just misdirected his anger and now turned it away from the group, mostly from me. The poor guy was just stressed, frustrated with the Governor's plans and paranoid about an attack. He was fighting a sluggish relationship with Maggie while trying to restore it, but struggled due to his intentions of a redemption of his ego and a solid revenge, not just for me, but for Maggie's sake too. When I had lied, Glenn dove into overdrive; his goals were enhanced and he was more determined to fulfill them, all the while, his amiable personality had deteriorated and his follower-role had diminished, forming a make-shift leader beside Rick. It wasn't his fault, at least, not entirely. Glenn was looking out for me, for Maggie, for all of us, just in a harsher way, I suppose. The man has changed quite a bit, but it was only since the Governor had inflicted so much pain and anger towards him, physically and mentally, that Glenn's mind collapsed, replaced with motives that would drive the Governor to the ground, ending his life, ending the troubles. Glenn was back, though. He redeemed himself too. The apology wasn't what brought this geeky pizza delivery-boy to his senses; it was Carter's death caused by his love, his girlfriend, Maggie. She actually kept Glenn sane, keeping him from growing violent from determination. If Maggie wasn't there, Glenn might have ran from the prison to the kill the Governor himself, which could have resulted in his own life. But the Governor isn't here, for now. The conflict within the prison has subsided, for now. Hopefully, it will be a long while before anything drastic happens to us all. Maybe we can return to a more relaxed lifestyle. Obviously, still aware of the Governor, but hopefully we won't be fearing him 24/7. The latest of our problems are gone now; why not relish the moment with familial bonding and the much-needed relaxation?

It sucks that there ain't no Cable here. Nuthin' coulda been better than a cold beer and NASCAR.

Glenn bent over the wood pile, making cautious adjustments to the wooden structure. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Rick, Mitchone, and Carl heaving Carter's body, heavily wrapped in stained sheets from old mattresses from the cells, down the staircase. With Rick and Mitchone holding either end of the body and Carl marching beside them, assuring their grips and safety, they made their way across the paved lot, heading towards me and Glenn, still hunched over the heap of lumber. He glanced up, eyeing the mummified corpse.

"Is that...?" Glenn trailed off, slightly mortified.

"Is it ready?" Rick simply asked, nodding to acknowledge Glenn's question.

Glenn sighed, rubbing his hands on his pants.

"Yeah, just about. Need some flammable tinder to get it started but then we should be good."

"Perfect," Rick relied, he and Mitchone setting the body down.

Mitchone swiped her forehead of sweat while Carl eyed the wood pile with interest, fascinated by the production and tender caring for a fire as any young boy would be. I, however, couldn't take my eyes off the body cocooned in blood-splattered blankets.

Carter. That was Carter. Wait, that was Carter? How? He was alive a couple days ago. Alive. He was alive. A guy like that was given a life; a life that he ended up abusing as an excuse to catechize me and Merle, and drill commands that if not performed to his expectations, we'll be punished severely. Slaps across the face. Punches to the gut. Beer bottles thrown inches from my head. My body was complete punching bag full of sand in Carter's mind, and I had the scars, bruises and lifelong injuries to prove how my childhood innocence was twisted. Twisted into a knot. Everything became backwards, I guess. A child should never lived in a flipped world.

Being exposed to these kind of things as a child really took an effect later on. Excluding school from a daily routine, making me and Merle junior delinquents in educational fields of study; living in fetid conditions of an open-home cabin illegally, inhaling the fumes of Moonshine as if they were secondhand smoke; my father's drinking problem. Period. His blind rampages, his emotions running wild, his hands twitching erratically as he slurred orders, only to get furious at my refusal to bring him more, resulting in a beating. My mother's useless attempt to stop him. My mother's desperation to get away. Why didn't she go away? She tried. Tried and failed. While Carter was passed out on the couch, Loretta hauled me and Merle to the family truck, flooring it as a high-tail plan of action out of the shit-hole. Barely made it a mile before Carter emerged from the woods, sweating, his face dripping with rage, blocking the road as he pointed a gun at the car, with me and Merle watching him in shock. Then, sitting in my bedroom, all alone, waiting. Just waiting with sore muscles and a dry throat, scratched raw from screaming. Merle cooped up at the base of our bunk bed, one hand tied to a pole with Carter's belt. I had undone it, but Merle had blacked out; I was left to listen, shaking violently, as Carter and my mother fought beyond the locked bedroom door. Screaming. Things knocking over. The shatter of glass. Then, quiet. Stillness. Utter silence. Hesitant gasping, panic rising in my mother's voice. The unmistakable click of a gun reloading a bullet.

My eyes suddenly burned with tears, my throat condensing as I inhaled shakily. I shook my head, refusing to feel pity for the mangled cadaver that lay rotting in the pavement.

He deserves it, I told myself, choking as I stifled a sob. That asshole deserves it. No doubt. No doubt. But- but why do I feel like crying now? Since when have I ever cried, like c'mon! Of course, before all this shit rained down on us, but since when?!

Rick and Mitchone, ignoring my watering eyes due to the respect I had enforced them to through bent down and picked up either end of Carter's corpses. Hoisting with their legs, they brought Carter to the pile of wood and tossed him on top of the lumber carelessly, kicking him aside like dirt. With Carl watching with big, bug-like eyes, Rick withdrew a matchbook from his pocket, flipped it open, and pulled out a single match. Glenn readied a pile of flammable tinder, using shredded paper and a small heap of bark that I had instructed them to strip from trees to cradle the spark. Glenn placed it at the base of the set up, backing away fro Rick to get close. Holding the book firmly, he placed one end of the match at the rough edge of the book and after a quick strike, a flame danced at the point, consuming the limited wood resource of the match. Rick brought the flickering flame to the pile of tinder, the flame brushing against the paper, about to catch, until I stood abruptly, waving my hands.

"Stop! Wait!" I called. "Rick, no!"

Before Rick could react, I swiped his hand away, the lit match leaving his hand and collapsing inches from the tinder. I stomped on it, crushing what little light was produced. Mitchone, Glenn, Rick and Carl were staring at me as if I had grown two heads.

"What the hell was that about?!" Mitchone exclaimed, slightly shocked.

Carl's hand instinctively went behind his back where his gun would have been placed.

Rick looked up at me, standing so we could be eye-level. He looked me over with concern.

"D-Daryl?" he ask, aghast. "Was something wrong?"

I stood there, looking around at all of them as they watched me in horror. I was sweating like crazy and panting like a sick dog.

Panting? Why the Hell was I panting?

"N-No," I stuttered. "Don't- don't burn him."

"Well, obviously we cannot keep him," Mitchone retorted, placing her hands on her hips.

"That's what we do to bodies, Daryl," Glenn clarified as if I hadn't already known. "Remember?"

"I thought you wanted this," Rick told me, watching curiously.

Though he was shaking with what I had done, I was surprised at how calm he was after I had scared him with my abrasive action.

"We bury him," I blurted, growing worried. "We don't burn him."

Everyone eyed me suspiciously.

"Bury him?" Mitchone asked, slightly annoyed.

"We thought you wanted to burn him," Glenn piped up, growing somber.

"Daryl," Rick said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You told us, didn't you? Just the other day..."

"Carter wasn't good," I interrupted him. "He was never good. I can fill a damn book with his shit, it's true, but I don't wanna burn his ass. He gets buried."

"Really?" Rick asked, genuinely surprised. "You'd go through trouble just to bury him when you could just toss him flames and let him shrivel up like that?"

I bit my lip then nodded sheepishly. Everyone exchanged confused glances.

"Any particular reason, Daryl?" Rick questioned me.

My gaze fell to Carter.

"Giving him the biggest bite in his ass," I replied, my glassy eyes examining the dead body. "That ol' bastard never did nutin' for me except for bruises. I never did nutin' but fight back. But, maybe there's something I can work with that Carter could never accomplish..."

"What do you mean?" Glenn asked, cocking his head.

"Burning him would be the biggest revenge and disrespect towards him," I admitted. "True shit, but maybe, with a little respect, Carter might just be...remorseful; the biggest revenge yet. Not being able to make up for anything he did; me, being the stronger one of accepting it and finally, finally, moving on."

There was a terribly long period of silence as everyone shifted awkwardly on their feet, their eyes shifting between the cadaver and me. I kept my eyes hard as they watered, stinging as a layer of salted water formed over my pupils.

"Daryl," Mitchone complained, crossing her arms.

She huffed an irritated sigh. The hands that dangled wearily by my side clenched into fists.

"So, now you're going soft? What's that all about?"

"The sudden change of heart," Glenn said, more to himself. "Actually, that's a praising thought..."

"Ridicules," Mitchone said, emphasizing her statement. "We were going to burn him. We set up everything and now Daryl changes his mind..."

"It wasn't too much trouble to set this up," Glenn assured her, gesturing to the wood pile. "And I highly doubt dragging Carter was a big deal considering your physical condition..."

"...but digging a grave for a man who doesn't deserve it will," Mitchone shot back through gritted teeth. "I'm not wasting my blood and sweat for a man who threatened us. Both of you."

She casted grim looks at Glenn and Rick, both responding with worried glances.

"He held you both captive, a gun to your face. He tied up Carol like a rag doll, throwing not only a woman's rights, but that woman's dignity, pride, and ego too. And you..."

She pointed a finger at me.

"He shot you. Twice. TWICE. He spent years bullying you, beating you, and shot you with a gun to prove himself as the leader; an Alpha. I would throw his body into the ocean if I could. Want to give him the worst? Let him turn. Cut off his arms and legs and I'll sever his jaw. Let him walk around; let him slowly die. Why should a cheating man EVER get pity?!"

She stood, gasping before us. Mitchone's eyes suddenly dilated, scanning each of our confused faces while her's was contorted with horror and realization. A hand slowly raised to her lips, almost shocked that those words ever came from her mouth.

"I- I'm sorry," she whispered, fumbling with her words. "You know, I just- I couldn't..."

She backed away slowly, her voice fading and drifting from our conversation. Mitchone bowed her head, humiliation flaming her cheeks. Rick and Glenn turned back to me.

"You know," Rick drawled, eyeing me closely. "I guess, I understand what your saying..."

"I just thought..." I stuttered. "I thought that maybe it would be a worser punishment. Either let him die as he should, as he deserves it, or in the most unlikely way that he thought his life would end. It was never out of pity..."

I snuck a glance at Mitchone, who was watching me carefully. Her eyes glinted quickly, realization of her verbal felony flashing before her enlarged and pulsing pupils. I nodded at her, accepting an unneeded apology.

"...I wanted to do this because I hated him. I hated him so much that I wanted to show him what he didn't deserve, but what he'll get anyway; that maybe his dominance peaked during brawls, but this will be stronger than anything he has taken down. Maybe, somehow, it might...correct...the wrong in Carter..."

"Daryl," Glenn piped up. "Carter's dead."

I nodded somberly.

"I know that."

A small pause.

"Carter's my father," I announced to them all. "He may not have been a good one, but he's mine. Being the last of his rotten family left, I have my rights to him. It's my decision whatever happens to his body. It's my choice, and right now, my choice is clear; Carter is to be buried."

Mitchone twitched at that. She sniffed quietly and wiped her hand under her eyes before looking up at me, biting her quivering lip. Glenn watched me through weary yet sober orbs glazed with tears that have yet to leak down his blushed cheeks. Carl had migrated to Rick's side, almost fearful of my speech. In return, Rick had wrapped a protective arm around his son, but his face was set, starring at me with grim yet understandable approval.

"'Cause no matter how shitty this world gets, we accommodate to it..."

I glanced around at them all as they marveled at me.

"We grow thicker skin to withstand the next wave of pain due to come..."

My throat had started to tie itself into a knot, obstructing my delicate words.

"...and Carter had brought a lot of pain to us..."

I felt a dry cough tickling my throat, but I swallowed it and ignored it as I meekly croaked out the last of my words.

"...but in this world, where pain is around every corner, we learn to cope with it. It's only supposed to be us and the dead..."

A long pause.

"...but now, the living are becoming just as dangerous; just as pain-bearing..."

Glenn sobbed inaudibly as my words tumbled. It was obvious to who he was thinking of that had brought the most pain towards him; the Governor.

"...but even with that, we have no reason to dismantle our humane traditions..."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep steady and sane as Mitchone and Glenn had tears drizzled down their faces. Carl remained motionless, taking in my words through small amounts while Rick was stone-cold.

"...we don't kill the living; only the dead, and we bury our dead; we don't burn them."

Another long silence.

"No matter how painful it becomes, we can never forget that."

I sent sterns looks around into each of their eyes before I turned away, dropping my head.

"Never..."

And...that's it :( hope you guys liked it. Thanks for a great start :) love u all. Enjoy the summer! 33