A/N: Welcome to Walking Fred! This is my first attempt at fan fiction so I really hope you like it. Please rate, review, comment and PLEASE send constructive criticism my way. If you want me to keep writing, let me know. Your opinions matter and will help me improve the story. Obviously, The Walking Dead and its locations and Characters do not belong to me. I own nothing but Fred. Enjoy! =)


She looked at her watch. It was noon and she'd been walking for nearly 4 hours, finally stopping to take a sip from her canteen, while taking in her surroundings. Shoving the canteen back in her pack, Winnifred put her hands on her hips and let out a long breath of relief. "Welcome to suburbia, Fred." she mused to herself, a small smirk on her face. She had always hated the suburbs, but when she was low on food and other necessities, she thanked the gods for gluttonous yuppies.

Noticing a rather large tree to her left side, Fred decided to climb as far up as she could to get a better look of the area. She knew better than to assume that just because the neighborhood looked empty, it actually was. Nothing was safe. The risen dead were a risk as it was. Throwing live people in the mix was even riskier. You couldn't trust anyone. Catching herself unconsciously rubbing her fingers over an ugly pink scar on her throat, she stopped herself and shook her head. "Focus." she whispered.

Securing her pack and katana in place, she hoisted herself up onto the lowest hanging branch. Climbing trees was nothing new to Fred. Climbing just about anything was nothing new for the young woman. Making her way nearly to the top, she found a big enough branch to support her tiny body and her possessions. Pushing some leaves out of the way and putting the binoculars to her eyes, she scanned the area. Once, twice, three times. No dead, no people, no nothing. Deciding to wait a little while, just to be sure, she pulled a granola bar from her pack and started to eat.

After 20 minutes had gone by and nothing had changed around her, she climbed her way back down the tree. Once on the ground, she headed to the first car in her path. Opening it up and thoroughly searching through it found her a small bottle of aspirin and a pack of gum. "Better than nothing." she thought. She cautiously walked up the path to the house in front of her, one hand gripping the handle of her katana. Quickly and quietly walking up the stairs of the porch, she peered in the windows to make sure there were no surprises. Seeing nothing, she slowly turned the knob of the front door. Finding it unlocked, she opened it and slipped inside, closing it silently behind her.

One hand still on her katana, Fred made her way through the first and second floor, focusing on making sure she was alone before rummaging for goods. Finding the place safe for the time, she was finally able to search through every closet, cabinet and drawer in the house. Unfortunately for her, the former inhabitants of the house had taken with them anything worth taking besides toothpaste and a bar of soap. Putting both into her pack, she sighed and moved onto the next car and the next house. Several houses and three undead homeowners later, she was still basically empty handed, with the exception of a few cans of soup and beans.

Checking her watch, she saw it was close to 3:00pm and she still had a long walk back to her bunker. She had to make it back before it started getting dark. Not ready to completely give up yet, she decided to check out one last house at the end of the street. An unusually nice, black car with tinted windows was sitting in the driveway. It was a little too nice, even for this kind of neighborhood. "Drug dealer." she mumbled.

After all her usual checks, she started her search in an upstairs bedroom. Finding a few articles of clothing close her size, she threw them on the bed. Combing through what appeared to be a teenage girl's room, she found some unused makeup and a small hand mirror. She had no one she wanted to impress but it was still nice to feel pretty. Touching up her eyeliner, she stared at herself in the vanity that the teenager had in her room. Pulling her two auburn braids over her shoulders, she used one of the braids to try and cover her scar but it was too high up on her neck. Shrugging, she gave up and moved on through the rest of the top floor, throwing her findings on the bed with the clothes.

Coming upon the last room on the upper floor, she noticed all the family photos lining the hallway walls. They looked like a normal family. Not that she had any semblance of what a "normal" family looked like. She had left hers behind long ago and never looked back. These people looked like they belonged in magazines. One picture even had the whole family. A Dad, Mom, teenage girl, very young boy and even Grandma. She ran a finger over the boy in the picture and sighed, turning away. Opening the door, she knew this room was the old woman's. Taking in the obscene amount of everything cat related, Fred was surprised to feel a small laugh leave her mouth. She had almost forgotten what it felt like.

Fred had almost no doubt that she would find anything she needed in this room but she started peeking anyway. Closet and dresser turned up nothing but she continued on now completely engrossed in the odd and somewhat creepy cat knick-knacks this woman had owned. She poked at a Cheshire bobble-head cat before looking down and noticing a large, old suitcase partially hidden under the bed. Dragging it completely out, she sat on the floor and opened it up.

The contents included a small handgun, several rolls of cash and a couple pounds of marijuana. Fred gaped at the stash in front of her. This was Grandma's stash. She had found her drug dealer. Looking around the room at all the cat memorabilia, the family photographs and back at the suitcase of drugs, Fred couldn't help but laugh. She tried picturing this little old woman carrying around a gun in her purse, selling pot to teenagers. Fred sniffed the product. "Good shit, Grandma." she barely managed to get out of her mouth before doubling over in laughter. Laughing so hard, she failed to hear the rumbling of car engines coming closer.

Daryl stopped his car at the end of the street with the other two cars following suit. Grabbing his crossbow, he exchanged a tired glance with Michonne before they got out of the car to join the rest of the group they brought on the run. After a quick perimeter check, Daryl called them back together to break up into search groups. "Glenn 'n Maggie can take those three. Sasha, Tyreese, three o'er there. Me and Michonne can take the last two. Meet back here in an hour or less. Gettin' late so let's make it quick." Daryl grunted out a bit gruffer than he meant. They'd be out on this run all day and after an encounter with a large group of walkers, he and the rest were exhausted.

With quick nods of acknowledgment, the pairs went their separate ways, cautiously walking to their destinations.

Entering their first house, Daryl and Michonne could tell right away that someone had already been inside. A walker lay at their feet with half of his skull missing. She bent down and lightly stuck the tip of her finger in the black goop that was once human blood. Michonne squinted her eyes, wiping it on the shirt of the walker and looked up at Daryl. "It's fresh. I didn't see any cars that weren't covered in dust. Did you?" she asked. "No." he shook his head and added, "Guess we ain't alone."

Although they already knew it would be empty they decided to do a brief search anyway, in case they were right about not being alone. When their search turned up nothing, they headed back outside spotting the others who were also empty handed. Determined to find something of use, they all continued on to the rest of the houses. Daryl lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. Michonne had decided to head into the next house by herself as it didn't appear they had anything to really worry about.

He surveyed the area. A few lawns had random children's toys strewn about them. The grass was growing wild from being un-mowed for so long. Even the road was being taken over by nature. He leaned against a nearby car while he waited on Michonne. Some of the others had started trickling out of the house and had begun looking through cars, trying to siphon whatever remaining gasoline they could. Daryl glanced at the last house they were going to check. It was big and he was hoping whoever had been there before them hadn't taken everything. As he went to take another drag, something moved by one of the windows, catching his attention. Standing up from the car, he tossed his cigarette and focused on the windows of the bottom floor. More movement, this time he was sure. Question was whether it was a walker or a person.

"Something wrong?" Michonne asked him as she walked up to the car. He jumped lightly, caught off guard. She smirked at the small victory. It wasn't easy to sneak up on Daryl and everyone knew that. "Nah. Prolly jus' a walker. I'll take care of this one." he indicated, motioning at their last house. She crossed her arms, weight shifted to one leg, standing her ground. Seeing she hadn't moved, he looked at her, slightly annoyed. "Go on an' help the others. Don't need no babysitter!" he insisted, waving her away with his hand. Smirk still on her face, she turned around and walked to the remaining group while Daryl walked to the last house on the street, crossbow in his hands.

Fred added the small handgun to the pile of things she had found on the upper floor, leaving behind the cash and pot. Wrapping everything up in the bed sheet, she slung it over her shoulder and headed downstairs to check out the bottom floor and the kitchen. Looking in a closest that was adjacent to the living room, Fred was very pleased to find an assortment of old electronics and tools. She could use some of these items to build alarms, among other things for her bunker. She didn't know much about most but she had picked up a few tricks over the years and she was thankful that that trick had stuck. Placing them in her pack, she moved into the kitchen.

Standing in front of the kitchen cabinets, Fred found herself holding her breath. She knew better than to get her hopes up but she had a good feeling she was going to be more than pleased with what she would find. Letting out her breath, she opened the cabinet doors and almost squealed at delight with what was in front of her. She quickly opened the next set of cabinets and this time, she did squeal.

They were fully stocked. Ramen noodles, macaroni and cheese, boxes of pastas, sauces for the pasta, canned fish, canned fruit and vegetables of all kinds, unopened condiments and even several different seasons. Fred was so happy she was ready to burst into tears. Instead she settled for happy dancing through the kitchen, past the window, into the living room and back. Ready to get out of there, she started throwing everything into her pack. Standing on the tips of her toes to make sure she got everything, she noticed a bottle of liquor, slightly pushed back on the top shelf. Grabbing a nearby chair, she climbed up and took out the bottle. Bourbon. She grinned and climbed off the chair. Carefully she wrapped the bottle in a couple dish towels and added it to her already heavy pack. It was finally time to go.

Now was a time when Fred wished she could drive. She knew the basics but not enough to get her back in one piece. Knowing she had a heavy haul and a long walk made her almost consider trying to take a car but she decided against it anyway. With her pack and katana in place, she slung the bed sheet of stuff over her shoulder and began to head for the door when movement outside caught her attention. Rushing over to the window she saw several people walking around, looking through the cars. Relieved that none of them seemed to be paying the house she was in any attention. She counted five people. There were three women and two men.

She hadn't seen live people in weeks and she wanted nothing to do with them. They were in the way of her road back to her bunker. Fred began to panic. She was alone and there were men. It didn't matter if they had women with them. Women could be just as cruel and evil and for all she knew, there could be more of them in places she couldn't see. Looking around outside, she noticed that if she stayed behind the houses in the tree lines, she could easily slip by them and get back on her trail as long as none of them popped out of nowhere and the dead didn't give her any trouble. All she had to do was slip out the side door.

Fred began to back up when she bumped into something soft but solid. A light gurgling sound made her whip around pulling her katana out ready to kill what was in front of her. Her eyes widened and she froze. It was the little boy from the family photos. What was left of him that is. The left side of his face had been torn to shreds, with no eye to speak of and his arm appeared dislocated. Fred felt sick at the sight of this once beautiful child, now a groaning monster.

He began to reach for her, teeth gnashing and loudly gurgling. "No! No, no, no, no, no!" she choked out, raising her blade over her head while moving away from the once child. Her hands shook above her. "He's just a boy." she whispered to no one, feeling tears brimming. The boy limped inch by inch to her before tripping over his own feet. Closing her eyes briefly and holding back the sob that was threatening to take over, she let out an uneven breath and thrust her katana through the back of his skull. Pulling the sword from his head, she wiped it on the table cloth next to her, secured it back in place and headed for the side door.

This was far from Fred's first time killing the undead, but it was her first child. He was no older than 6. Fred felt woozy. Walking to the door, she had to support herself on the wall. "I just killed a kid." she thought to herself, "Murdered.. a child. He looked like..". She found the door and opened it, trying to be quiet and careful but practically falling outside. The world was spinning and she her stomach was flip flopping. If it hadn't been for the fresh air, she would've passed out. Instead, she was going to throw up. Practically running to the back of a tree, she steadied herself against it and released what little stomach contents she had. Feeling better physically, she stood up and looked around the tree to where the people were huddled by the cars.

Fred could feel the tears welling up again. She had just killed a child, moments ago and now she still had to deal with getting by them. It was late and if she didn't get past them soon, she'd be walking in the dark. Feeling overwhelmed, mostly by sadness, she found herself choking back sobs. Leaning against the tree, she pressed one palm to the tree for support and the other to her mouth to cover the sounds fighting to escape her body. The sound of a twig breaking close behind her jolted her to attention but before she could grab her katana and turn around, her ears were met with a gruff southern drawl.

"Don't fucking move." was all he said and Fred dropped her hands, starting to shake again. She started biting her lip to try and stifle her tears but it wasn't working. "Now ya can turn around but if ya try anything funny, I'll shoot ya in th' leg, ya hear me?" he spoke again, and Fred nodded her head quickly. Tears were freely flowing down her face at this point, both by fear of this man and because she couldn't get the boy's face out of her mind. She started to turn around, with her hands up in front of her. "Are ya alone out here?" the man asked her. Fred slowly nodded and finally she was face to face with him. Her eyes widened with even more fear at seeing his crossbow pointed right at her. Stony blue eyes locked with teary hazels. "Are.. are you crying?" there was guilt in his question and a sob finally escaped her.

"Shit! Now what?" Daryl thought to himself. "What do I do? What do I say? Why do I give a fuck?" The woman in front of him was practically bawling at this point. She probably thought he was going to murder her, or worse. He was now regretting some choice words he had used on her. Not wanting to garner the attention of the rest of the group or walkers, he attempted to calm her down. "Hey, listen. I didn't mean what I said before. I wasn't gonna shoot ya unless ya tried to cut off my head." he spoke to her in a small attempt at sounding comforting. She was still crying but the hysterics were gone and she still looked petrified. "I ain't gonna hurt ya, I promise." he emphasized by crossing his heart. Completely uncharacteristic for him but he wanted to reassure her that he meant no harm. Fred still wasn't convinced but she wiped away the tears and nodded her head again before adding, "It would probably be more believable if you pointed that crossbow at something other than my head." He briefly looked at the crossbow and back to her before lowering it. "Fair 'nough." he stated simply.

Daryl could see her relax a bit but she was still slightly shaking. Chocking it up to the colder weather and her thin clothing, he offered her his vest which she declined and pulled out a dark green hoodie from her bed sheet of goodies. After she zipped it up , she was met with his hand out as if to shake hers. "Name's Daryl." he informed her, waiting for her response. She hesitated a moment before sliding her hand into his to shake it. His hand felt rough and calloused but she was surprised at how gently it actually felt. He looked at their hands and back to her waiting on her name. Realizing she hadn't responded yet, she dropped his hold and replied, "My name is Fred." Slight confusion crossed his face and she knew where this was going, so she stopped him before he could make any stupid remarks. "My full name is Winnifred. It's a really old family name and since people seem to like to compare it to Winnie the Pooh, I've just dropped it to Fred." she sighed, waiting for the inevitable laughter. When it didn't come, she looked at him and he shrugged. "Fred's good 'nough for me." he mumbled.

For a moment or two, they both awkwardly stood there. Daryl was unsure what to say, while Fred was not sure when to run. "Ya said you're out here by yourself? What about a camp or somethin'?" he asked her. Seeing slight fear return to her eyes, he put his hands up. "It was just a question. Me and my group don't like seeing people out on their own. We've got a good thing goin' at this prison a couple hours north of here. We've got food, shelter, water, showers even. Plenty of protection an' no walkers." he offered. She tilted her head a little. "Walkers?" she paused a beat, "You mean the dead right?" she questioned. "Yeah, them." he nodded taking a step toward her causing her to instantly jump back, her right shoulder connecting with the tree hard enough to scrape her up pretty decently, through her clothing. "Shit! Ow!" she cursed at the tree before turning and kicking it.

Daryl stifled a chuckle as seeing this woman kicking a tree. He stopped when he saw she was bleeding through the fabric of her hoodie. "I hate to interrupt but you're bleeding pretty good ya know." he pointed out to her. Turning around and using her other hand to slip inside the back of her shirt, she winced slightly and pulled out her hand covered in a decent amount of blood. "Groovy." was all she said. "We might have some bandages at the cars but Dr. S back at the prison can fix it up better for ya. Why don't ya come with us?" his offer polite. She gave him a small smile. "Look, it's nothing personal, but I don't know you and for all I know, this could be some kind of trap. You know, send in the good looking one to charm the girl, or whatever. If it's just the same to you, I'll just be going back to my bunker, alone." She started to walk away before she added, "It was nice to meet you Daryl."

Dumfounded, Daryl stood there for a minute and watched the young woman start to make her way through the trees, replaying what she just said in his mind. "The good looking one. She thinks I'm good looking?" He knew if Merle had been there, he never would've let that go. Or let a beautiful girl like her just go. Daryl turned on his heel, grabbing his crossbow and running to catch up with her. The sun was getting dangerously low and if they weren't on the road soon, they'd be stuck. Suddenly Maggie's voice yelling "WALKERS!" carried through the air, quickly followed by an unfamiliar scream and gun shots. Daryl ran out from the trees into the road which was rapidly being taking over by a small herd of walkers. Curses were thrown out of the mouths of the different group members as the hacked, slashed and shot their way through the herd. After most of them were down, Daryl turned to the group, asking them if they had seen a woman run by. Before any of them could answer, another yelp could be heard over near the big tree Fred had previously used as a look out.

"Take out as many as ya can and get everything in the cars! I'll grab her!" Daryl shouted back at the group before running down the street, out of sight. "Who is he talking about?" Sasha asked before thrusting a knife through a female walkers head. "Crazy redneck." Michonne muttered before slicing the top of another walker's skull.

When Daryl found Fred, she was backed up against the tree, surrounded by about 15 walkers. He could see much but her katana slicing through some while other attempted to take chunks out of any piece of her they could. Pushing and kicking them away wasn't doing her any good and just when she was about to get the first bite taken out of her, a bow came straight through the once police man's head. Daryl started yelling to attract some of the attention on him, which worked for a few of them. He quickly took them out only to look over and see Fred half in the tree, holding on for dear life as one last walk was trying to pull her out and take a bite out of her leg. Crying hysterically she kicked it right in the face which only seemed to anger and increase its strength. With one last pull, Fred lost her grip and tumbled to the ground with the walker, but not before smashing her head on a large rock below.

Fred's vision was fading in an out and she knew she was gonna pass out. The walker was on top of her and there was nothing she could do. Suddenly it was ripped off of her and she barely made out the figure of Daryl shoving a knife in its brain. The world was spinning again and she tried to reach out for him before it all went black. He turned and ran over to her, shaking her. "Fred! Fred, can ya hear me?" he yelled at her, before checking her pulse and he breathing. She was alive. Tyreese had made his way over to them. "Hey man, we gotta go now! More of 'em keep coming. It ain't safe." he started, "Is she bit?" he asked tensely. "Nah, don't think so. Needa get her back to the prison and have Dr. S take a look." he stated firmly. Daryl picked her up in his arms and was surprised at how light she was. Looking over at Tyreese, he asked the bigger man to grab all her stuff.

Michonne opted to ride with Sasha and Tyreese so Fred could be comfortable and also so in case she woke up, she'd see a familiar face. With the cars loaded, most of the walkers killed and about an hour before the sun finally went down, they were ready to make the trip back to the prison.