AN: All credit goes to where credit is due. The comic book "The Walking Dead" is the property of creator Robert Kirkman. The television show (based on the comic) "The Walking Dead" is the property of creator Frank Darabont and AMC. The ideas and quotations used from the show belong to their respective owners - no copyright infringement is intended (as, clearly, I am not making money off of this.) Emily and Travis are my own original characters. It's currently rated T, as there is no, ahem, mature content at this time. However, considering this originated as a way to get into Jon Bernthal's pants... you should expect that to change at some point.

I apologize for this long AN. This was originally intended to be a drabble series (hence, the first couple of "vignettes" posted here). Cut to - 10,000 words later. Yeah. After chapter 1, you can expect it to continue in a linear fashion until we meet up with the first chapter posted here, day 68. I hope that clears up any lingering confusion about the timeline. Just think of this chapter as a "flash-forward." You can also expect the upcoming chapters to be much, much longer. As I've already written the majority of the rest of the story, you can expect this fic to be updated regularly about once a week. Finally, I'd like to thank all the people who've helped me out so far with this story - I never dreamed I'd get so many responses! So a big, BIG thank you to The Prophet Lemonade, doctorkaitlyn, Bitch Goddess,andstilltheycome, and my pre-reader Resounding. Thank you all so much for your help. And I hope you enjoy!

Don't Close Your Eyes

Day 68 [Day 0 is Global Outbreak]

Carl Gets Shot (Emily's Stream of Consciousness)

I entered the house, adrenaline and creeping fear pulsing through my limbs. I clenched my fists, hoping to rid myself of the wooden feeling in my joints. "Where's Carl?"

"He's seizing!" someone shouted from my left.

"My father's workin' on him – he's in there with his parents," said the girl, Maggie, the one who rescued Andrea and picked up Lori on her horse.

"What can I do?" I asked, anxiously running through my rudimentary first aid knowledge. I could be an extra set of hands, at the very least. "Blood? I'm A positive!"

"Not now, take these towels to the big sink in the back and wash them while we stitch up your friend," Maggie said, thrusting several soiled towels into my arms.

"Shane?" I asked the room at large. What the fuck is happening…

"Is that Rick's friend?" Maggie asked, while packing a dopp kit with the essentials. "He and Otis are at the high school, gettin' surgical supplies for Carl," Maggie explained. "Here, take these, too," Maggie said, stacking bloody sheets on top of the towels in my arms.

"Make sure to use bleach," said another woman before hurrying into Carl's makeshift hospital room.

"Big sink, bleach, got it." I glanced at Glenn, silently asking: Are these people safe? He made a weird sort of nod-shrug at me before I bolted around the corner, bile rising in my throat. I took that to mean acceptance for what, surely, we both already knew - we don't have time to find out.