Lucky

We all have a job to do.

-Glenn

Slash.

Kick.

Stab.

Repeat.

Cersei's arms felt wobbly, blood dripping from her brow. Not her own of course. If she got hurt it was all over.

Three pairs of dull, yellowish eyes stared at her. No emotion. No thought. Empty.

She would never get used to the stares they gave. They felt nothing. They only needed what they craved.

Her.

She stood still, not in the mood to run after them. She knew they'd come for her. They had seen; too late to run.

No big deal. Three was nothing. She took them out easily, their skulls soft like a newborn's. That thought always made her sick to her stomach. But then she remembered the eyes. Cold. Dead. And then she didn't feel anything at all.

"Go ahead Carl. She's a beauty aint she?"

Rick smiled back at Shane, happy to not see that look in his eyes. That jealousy. Everything between them seemed to be about taking. Why couldn't they share like they used to?

"Yeah...she is. C-can I get closer?"

Rick's eyes snapped back to Carl's face, pale and innocent. He hadn't seen that look either in a while. And like always, he would do anything to keep it there.

"Of course. Just don't scare her off." Carl grinned brightly at that, his eager steps slowed quickly in favor of not making too much noise.

He seemed to quiver in his boots, the overly large sheriff's hat on his head hanging on by a single thread. Rick looked back at Shane again, both of them sharing the same look.

These are the moments I live for. This is why Lori is wrong.

And a single gunshot rang eerily in the air.

Food food food. Where art thou scrumptious delights? Send me a sign so I don't have to resort to gnawing my own arm off.

Cersei giggled slightly at her own joke. How ironic would it be for her first bite to be from herself- not a walker. She looked down at the white flesh streaked with red and decaying meat.

Hmmm. How appetising.

Suddenly, she saw a clearing, yellow light streaking down like a hand from heaven.

Huh. If free wishes are being granted I sure do hope that wasn't my only one.

She tiptoed over, black combat boots worn, but soft. And quiet. She glimpsed through the trees, seeing a magnificent doe. It's fur shined in the sunlight, its graceful neck bent down to bite at a patch of green green grass.

Wow...and no sarcastic thoughts or jokes popped in her head.

Beauty was no longer something commonly seen, yet still unattainable. Now it was just unattainable. She smiled slightly to herself, part of her wanting to just leave the animal be, let it live just like she wanted to. But then she remembered Tommy.

Her face hardened, pale blue eyes cold like the ice they were colored as. Now was not the time to admire beauty. Now was the time to keep it alive. For the only beauty that mattered was waiting for her, and she had worked too hard and too long to disappoint.

She brought up her bow, wishing yet again that she had a compound bow and not a longbow. While she was a fine shot, not amazing but not bad, her arms were weak. Not from lack of muscle. No...she got plenty of exercise. From lack of nutrition. She knew she should take more helpings from their supply. She knew she should eat more than half of what she gave herself, the rest being slipped onto Tommy's plate without thought. She knew it was stupid. But seeing his ribs...being able to count them. It was disgusting. He was a child. He should have layers of baby fat. No...he needed it more. She was almost fully grown. She could handle it. She had so far.

Cersei shook herself from her thoughts, thin arm pulled back, right eye closing, and was that guy getting ready to shoot her doe? She dropped her bow, eyes dilating as fear coursed through her veins. People. Oh she had had a run in with a group before. Psychos were what they were. The need to survive had twisted them, made them into monsters worse than the ones that hunted them. She'd had a few close calls, but she had never killed for pleasure. Only for need. At least, that's what she told herself when she cut their throats while they slept.

What they did was unforgivable. Quit beating yourself up.

Again, she shook herself, already getting ready to take her leave. She didn't need the doe. She did need to stay alive though. From the corner of her eye she saw movement. Movement that was much closer than what it should be. She turned quickly, her emergency handgun seemingly jumping into her hand like she wanted to out of fear. She would have heard a walker much earlier in a forest so quiet. No. That was another person.

Fuck.

She truly didn't understand how she got herself into this mess. For once her own blood soaked through her thick jacket, the white shirt underneath blending in with her own skin.

Well damn. That probably isn't a good sign.

She thought that maybe she had gone into shock...but she felt pretty calm. She had saved a boy's life. A boy that looked too much like Tommy.

Too much.

Now that she saw him though...they didn't look that much alike. Yes they had the same pale skin. Same dark blue eyes. Same dark hair...oh who was she kidding. This kid looked exactly like Tom. And because of that she may have just killed herself.

And the real one.

Her eyes widened, the edges of her vision becoming blurry but her mind still as clear and sharp as always.

"By the trees. Find the one with...with a white X." The eyes looking down on her were full of worry, his tan face crinkling as he ran, desperately trying to keep the girl's body in his arms as still as possible. She saw none of this though. All she could see was a laughing face being pulled apart by walkers.

"Please."

And everything went dark.

"How is she?"

The girl had passed out while Rick was running, mind elsewhere as the man who had almost shot Carl yelled directions as he desperately tried to keep up. The man hadn't been lying when he said they could help the girl. In fact, he had been underselling the place. It was clean, full of supplies, and most importantly- walker free. Boy was that amazing to actually be able to think.

He looked at the girl in the bed, the girl who had shot out of the trees like some sort of woodland sprite, a gift from God. Without her... Carl might be dead. And that single fact meant he would do anything to help her. She looked as pale as a ghost, lips as white as the skin surrounding. Clumps of blackish-brown hair surrounded her face in a boyish style. It was obvious she had cut it off herself.

She was as dirty as Rick if not more so, streaks of blood and walker-flesh all over her. She was also quite young. A fact that distressed Rick more and more the more he thought about it.

She can't be more than fourteen for Christ's sake. Was she all alone this whole time?

The idea of a child being all alone in world like this...it was sickening. Beyond terrible. And deep inside he couldn't help but wonder...what kind of child can survive during an apocalypse? And that part of him wished he had left the girl on the forest floor as she bled to death.

"She'll be fine. As she pushed your boy out of the way the bullet hit her side. No organs damaged as far as I can see. If we don't get the pieces out though it's likely one will move and nick something. And if that happens we'll be in trouble."

Rick nodded without looking, eyes only for the emaciated form in the large bed. You saved my boy. You saved my boy. Good god my boy almost died.

A wave of dizziness passed through Rick, his knees wobbled and he thankfully landed in the armchair behind him.

Dear god my boy could've died today.

And everything just became so much more real. Of course everything had been before. No, he had never underestimated the walkers. But part of him, a small part, had believed he would never be touched by it all so closely. Shane was still alive. Lori...Carl. The ones closest to him were just fine. Didn't that mean they always would be? No. They wouldn't. And today that fact had become frighteningly clear.

He had wanted to enjoy a nice moment with the ones he loved, and he had almost paid the ultimate price. He couldn't-wouldn't- make that mistake again.

"Hey man. You 'right?" Shane leaned down, hand running through his thick hair in worry. He knew how awful he looked. How broken. But he had been that close to losing the single most important person in his life. And he hadn't even been the one to save him. His eyes shot the the girl once again, gratefulness rushing through his veins.

It's okay.

This time.

Pain. That's all she felt to begin with.

It shot down her side, white hot and worse than anything she had ever felt. For a moment she thought that maybe it had finally happened. A walker had finally latched onto her, making her into what had ruined her life already. But then she remembered. Jumping out of the trees, her heart racing and her rushing to save a boy from what she knew would be death. No way he'd be able to survive. No way Tommy would make it.

And she had jumped.

In front of a kid.

She didn't.

Even.

Know.

Dear god. Did you finally decide life was too hard Princess? Decided to end it in a blaze of glory? Well looks like it didn't work!

And that's when she remembered that if she could feel, she was alive. And that meant someone must have saved her. Her heart began to beat faster, unfamiliar smells letting her know some magical fairy or God hadn't decided to miraculously heal her and transport her to Tommy so he could nurse her back to health and passive aggressively let her know how much of a dumbass she had been.

I know Tommy. I'm stupidly heroic. Just remember, if I wasn't you'd be dead. For some reason she never told him this, but mid rant he seemed to realize it on his own. What a smart boy.

She refused to open her eyes, her senses telling her at least one person was in the room with her. She searched her brain, figuring out a plan. Steps let her know whoever had been with her had finally left and her body relaxed slightly.

Alright Circe. Calm yourself. For some reason, these people decided to save you. Motivations unknown. However...they can't want you dead. Objective: get out so you can get back with Tommy. Don't let them follow. If they badger, kill. If they let you go, fine. Maybe you can grab some stuff on your way out. Now. Open. Your. Eyes.

The place wasn't what she had expected. To be honest...she didn't know what she had expected. It sure as hell wasn't this though.

The wooden floors were a light shiny brown, the walls a whitish blue, calm and soft. The door was open, same color as the floor, and the room was sparsely, but nicely decorated.

And here I thought normal life was dead.

For a moment she thought that maybe it had all been a dream. Mom had gotten a bit too rough, maybe for once they had to head over to Dr. Wilson's house. They had never been inside, but he seemed the type to have a guest room like this. But she knew that wasn't true. Her dreams had never been that vivid, and she sure as hell wasn't sick or imaginative enough to think up such terrible things.

Hey...remember Solipsism. This could all still be a dream.

Cersei looked down, her grimy hands a familiar and comfortable sight. However, her stomach was pristine, the wound on her side bandaged and wrapped around her entire waist.

And they couldn't take the time to wash all of me?

That single thought took the edge off her panic.

We had a few days supplies for both of us ready. If he's smart he can last over a week. Two if he starves himself a bit. She sighed, the slight motion bringing her attention to her wound.

This will take time to heal. If I keep to the bed I can probably start walking in give or take a week. I have time.

So with one final sigh, Cersei laid on the soft bed and went back to sleep.

"And you're sure all the bullet pieces are out?"

Carl rubbed his hands together, worry making his brow furrow. He wanted to let this girl know how grateful he was. And they wouldn't even let him see her! The old man-Hershel was it?- laid a thin wrinkled hand on his shoulder, kind eyes and smile relaxing Carl's beating heart.

"Don't worry son. That little girl's gonna be just fine. Her jacket kept the bullet from sinking too deep, so getting the pieces out wasn't as hard as it could've been. To be honest, with all the luck this girl has I wouldn't have been surprised if the bullet hadn't even broke apart in her. And quit moving your hand, it'll bother the sprain."

Carl smiled gratefully and ceased the movement. While the girl had saved him from a bullet, falling at such an angle still hurt him, leaving him with a sprained wrist that ached every time he thought of the girl or dared to move. He ignored that in favor of another question, but another hand stopped him.

"Quit doubting the man's work Carl. He knows better than us." Carl nodded, knowing that his dad was right. He was just so worried.

"Do you have any idea when she'll wake?"

Hershel sat back in his chair, hand running through the thin strands of hair on his head.

"Anytime. Just depends on when her body decides she's ready. I'm just worried about after she wakes up."

Rick nodded, sure that his own worries were much the same. They had no idea who this girl was, except that she was willing to save a stranger's life. While Rick knew he'd do a lot to help her, he wouldn't go so far as risking his family. And he knew that no matter the face, people were much the same within. And the apocalypse could easily mess a person up.

He rid himself of such thoughts and looked over towards the approaching sound of footsteps, hoping that it was Shane. He'd already worked it out with Hershel. They'd stay until the girl and Carl had healed and then they'd be on their way. She'd not be able to travel in a few weeks however, so Shane had taken it upon himself to gather their own group. He honestly couldn't believe his luck. And he hoped it continued when he asked Hershel to stay permanently.

"Mom's been lookn' for you Daddy. Can you leave the girl for a bit?" Hershel stood up, touched Maggie's arm lovingly and walked outside, the door creaking shut after him.

"How is she?"

Rick looked over at the young woman, thoughts turning to his own group. Any time now.

"Hershel said she should be awake any time. Our group should be here soon too." Maggie nodded, hand coming to brush through her short hair much like her father.

"It'll be nice having some other people around. Just been us for quite some time. How many you say you have?" And Rick and Carl told her all about them.

Put some sugar on meee, in the name of love. Pour some sugar on meee, c'mon fire me up!

Cersei giggled to herself, one of her Mom's favorite songs lightening her mood up tremendously. So far she had kept herself from "waking up", but she knew it was time. It had been two days since she had actually woken. She had taken note of an old man, the man who had carried her to this place, and the boy who she had saved.

He had tried to sneak in a few times, but by the way the scruffy man had shaken him and given him the 'fatherly disappointment' look she had inferred he wasn't supposed to be near the half-dead girl. She sighed to herself, preparing for what might happen. At night she had found her stuff, thankfully not too looked through. Her most important items were still in their secret compartments. Her weapons were gone of course, but she had expected that.

She left everything where it was, but she did take the knife she kept in her boot. She was and wasn't surprised they hadn't found it. Based on their conversations they weren't entirely insane or terrible. Of course, you can only learn so much from conversations about herself.

The man and his son she found out were actually part of a larger group. And they weren't part of the people at the house. Farm if her looks from the window were accurate. It looked like the people were all genuinely worried about her. How sweet. She couldn't wait to leave.

She sighed again, pinching her eyes open in a way she hoped looked real. The person beside her, she was guessing the man they called 'Rick' jumped out of his chair, yelling for Hershel. She squinted her eyes in the light as if it was a strain, and looked over. It was in fact the Rick man, and boy was he staring her down good. Without having to hide she let herself openly stare.

He was pretty tall and strong looking, definitely not someone she could take on. At least not hand to hand. His face wasn't as mean as most of the men she had seen though, and the innocent curiosity on his face was an entirely new expression for her. There was a wariness though.

I know that look. You best be afraid.

She blanked her expression, all in all not too impressed.

"H-hey. How are you?" Cersei gave him a sardonic smile full of teeth.

"Fantastic. Just fantastic. How are you?"

Rick suddenly felt very stupid. How are you? Well...I was just shot. How do you think I am?

The girl didn't look as innocent as she did in sleep. Nor as young. Her face was still smooth with youth, but her features seemed sharper. Harsher. Her teeth were crooked, in need of braces, and now that she was awake her face seemed to be pulled into a permanent sneer.

Her hair curled around her chin, wispy strands countering her mean visage. Her eyes were a pale blue, almost white. They looked ethereal, all-knowing. Rick had never seen eyes like that.

And suddenly he felt an enormous wave of pity for this little girl. A girl no more than a few years older than Carl, who had had to face the world for god knows how long. And he wanted to save her.

"I'm actually doing pretty great. So's Carl, my boy. The boy you saved." Her sneer dropped at his words, leaving behind a clear canvas. You poor thing.

"I trust he's fine?" Rick nodded, taking a seat again. She seemed alright, if not a bit sour.

Oh...even during an apocalypse teenage girls are all the same.

"I'm happy that your child is alright sir. Is this your home?" Rick noted the steel in her eyes she desperately tried to hide. She was trying to act innocent.

Oh. You are a smart one. But I'm a cop. And I can read you like a book.

"No. The man who shot you lives here. His family helped patch you up. You don't even know how lucky you are." Her sneer came back full force, her upper lip pulled up with bitterness.

"Oh. I definitely know how lucky I am sir. I'd say you're pretty lucky too." Rick leaned back, thumb crossing over his lip.

"And why would you say that?"

A grin stretched over her thin pale face, a grin that didn't fit her demeanor at all.

"I'd say anyone still alive is pretty lucky sir. Or the unluckiest of the bunch, depending on how you look at it."

"Well, your vitals are fine and your wound seems to be healing along nicely. Would you stretch that way please?" Cersei twisted her back, grunting slightly at the pain radiating up her side.

"Alright sweetie that's enough. Now, do the other side and don't strain yourself, okay?" The girl nodded, ignoring the slight attempt at humor completely.

"Stretching the wound out isn't as difficult as going in. How much longer should I stay in bed sir?" Hershel grinned and pat her leg, letting her know to resume her regular position.

"You should be able to get up right now if you want. We've got a shower right down that hallway, go ahead and get yourself scrubbed clean. Don't worry about the bandage. Maggie'll come on in and redress it once you're done." Cersei remained shocked at the word 'shower', mouth threatening to open.

"Did you just say shower. Good lord I could kiss you." Hershel smiled and gave the girl another pat on the knee.

"Yes. Rick had much the same reaction when I told him. We don't have enough hot for a full shower, but it's summer so it shouldn't be too cold. Now hop on up. You're stinking up my house." She grinned, beginning to like this man more and more. He wasn't anything like some of the men she had met.

"Of course sir. I wouldn't want to upset your delicate snozz any longer." She got up slowly, carefully testing the limits to movement.

Hm. Not too bad. Maybe I could lessen my recovery time. She took a slight step forward, barely a tap.

And...she felt fine.

I guess he actually does know what he's talking about.

She walked down the hallway without problem. She made sure to keep her face forward, having no interest in talking to anyone else at the moment. She needed to plan. And fast. The bathroom was clean like the rest of the house, and the normality of it all was probably the worst thing about it. It made her question what she thought of as reality. What she thought had happened to her for the past few months.

She turned on the water, the heat of it surprising and comforting. Even at her Mom's they didn't always have hot water. Who knew life could be better after an apocalypse? She scrubbed her dirty hair, loose pieces sinking to the drain from her last cut. Long hair was extremely inconvenient when you had to kill walkers all the time. She remembered that she used to have long, thick, curly hair. She missed it.

Finally blood ceased staining the porcelain tub and she began to wash herself for the first time in so long.

I promise Tommy. We'll take everything they have and more.

Hello all! Yes, I haven't updated any of my stories in forever. Yes, I am a terrible person. And yes, I bet you enjoyed my first chapter! Haha just kidding. Walking Dead coming back on has definitely put me in the mood for writing about it. However, when I looked stuff up it was all just a bunch of romance between Daryl and some other person. Why people? Why must everything be romanticised? Jesus.

Yes, this will be Gen, except for the usual pairing. However, if you don't care for any of them don't worry. It won't be a main focus. My story is centered around my OC, and she's not interested in sex. Btw-please let me know what you think of her! I'm trying to not make her too Mary Sue, so let me know if she's likable at all. And the mysterious Tommy will be entering sometime soon. Maybe. Idk. I'm just making this up as I go. As always, leave a review, and I hope you liked the first chapter!