There was no easy way to admit she was dying; yet that was exactly what was happening when the mysterious grey-haired lady opened the back door for the walkers. Pain was something Mary was used to, but it blinded her as she looked down and saw the dead feasting on her. Too weak, too tired to defend herself, she hoped Gareth would never find her like this.

He was already in deep enough trying to find Rick and spare their home, even as Mary knew it was lost. There was no way they could stay after losing critical protection for their community. A flash of anger burned through Mary while she contemplated the predicament they were in because of the ringleader.

Shaking her head at how stupid Rick and the grey-haired woman were, she trained her ears to the sounds of fighting coming from outside. Many of their own were now tasked with defending themselves against the enemy. Like they did last time; when they stored away any thoughts of squeamishness, and killed the people who took from them.

Mary wished she could be out there, but there was no way around the gunshot to her leg and the walkers the woman so cruelly let in to devour her. Wriggling her body under the pain of their fingers digging into her exposed flesh, she wondered if this is what their victims felt like before the slaughter: Pain, mixed in with terror of the unknown, and maybe a little relief they would not have to suffer any longer.

That was how Mary felt while her fingers groped for the gun that had been knocked from her hand. The weapon would help, but would ultimately prove useless in saving her. There was nothing for her to live for any longer. Alex, her baby, was dead, and Gareth probably was, too. Her entire family had been taken from her, and now her home. Fingers slick with blood, she inched just a little closer to the gun, and snagged it.

Gritting her teeth against the pain that was overpowering, the former nurse pointed the weapon at the nearest walker that was presently scooping out her insides. Heart pounding erratically knowing the end was coming, Mary eased her finger over the trigger, and pulled. The shot took down the closest walker, and a few others in the room were quickly shot down, as well. Feeling better that some control had been given back to her, she did not have the bullets left to kill the lone one.

Content to let whatever happened take place, she hoped her end would be quick, and she would not have to suffer anymore. It had been that way since the turn, and especially after making the turn to their new way of living. Scratching her nails along the ground in response to the pain, she remembered the way she felt when her mouth met its first taste of human meat. The concept of it was sickening, but the taste was intoxicating after being starved.

The unmistakable sound of gunfire met her sharp hearing. This time, it was closer to the church that had become a means of purging the grief that came from the siege. It was Gareth who proposed a ceremony to honor the ones they lost. Standing in the place that was used as a spare room, she listened to her people give tearful accounts of those they lost. Most of them were strong, and were unshakably stoic in the face of their pain.

It seemed oddly fitting that she would die in a place that was built to pay tribute to the dead. Looking straight ahead of her, Mary made out the words that had been painted in block letters by an artistically gifted member of Terminus. The words had been her idea, a reminder that they would never be vulnerable again. Toby, the artist, took the paintbrush with ease, and slowly scrawled the words along the wall.

NEVER AGAIN, NEVER TRUST. WE FIRST, ALWAYS.

Coming into the room and viewing the message was validation of their choice. Sure, she felt horrible that they brought people in on the chance they might be their next meal, but the message was clear to her. They were the butchers, the ones who refused to let compassion cloud their judgment. As a former nurse, it had been hard to develop that approach, but it had been done out of necessity.

Drawn to the door when she heard a noise, she wondered if it was another walker. The one that remained in the room, had long since started snacking on her fading body. Before, Mary would have been horrified that something like that was happening, but she knew there was no point fighting it when death would be a mercy compared to this. When the person made his appearance, she was stunned to see her son.

Gareth had fought through the masses out there, and had come looking for her. The relief that painted his face when he came, was now marred with fury and disbelief. Crossing the room in one single stride, her son ripped the walker from her, and killed it with his knife. Dropping to his knees, Mary could see about a hundred different emotions cross over his face while he knelt behind her, her head coming to rest on his lap.

"Mom-"

"I thought you were gone," Mary choked, reaching her hand up to touch his face. Her eyes focused on his features, needing something to ground her.

Gareth offered a smile at her words. "Can't get rid of me that easy." His fingers, hurt from battle and calloused, took her hand while his free hand smoothed her hair behind her ear.

"The tank, our home. What about Kaylee? Or Theresa?"

There was not much Mary cared about other than the people who had become part of them. Kaylee was much like her, and had the same compassion that Mary found so impossible to get rid of. Theresa was another case, and became a source of consternation for Gareth when he used her as a spotter.

"Shh, shh," Gareth soothed. "They're okay."

"I'm glad."

"You're gonna be okay, too. We"ll fix this up when we-"

Mary shook her head, biting her lip, and trying hard to keep the tears at bay. When she looked at the man holding her in his arms, it was the son she comforted when he got hurt on the playground. Or the one who came to her when he needed advice. She even saw some of his father in him, but more than anything, she saw a little boy who could not imagine life without his mother.

"Sweetheart, there isn't anything you can do for this. Not this time, Gare." There was nothing she wanted more than to lift his pain, but she could not.

"Kaylee," Gareth began, taking a deep breath. "You taught her some tricks. She can work some of her mojo, and fix this."

"Not...not with a bite wound. Gareth, I need you to remember something for me, okay?" Mary searched his eyes, but saw nothing but denial at what this was.

"We're not doing this. We're not having the 'final talk' when you tell me how it should be, and that I need to carry on."

"Not that. I was going to tell you not to be scared because there's so much of it now. You are braver and better than you think you are. Don't...don't be afraid to cry when you need to. All leaders, yes even you, need to cry."

Mary had spoken those words to him after Gareth put his father down after he was bit by a walker they ran into while looking for supplies. With a steely expression on his face, Gareth drove the knife through his father's head after he took his last breath. Standing up after it was done, Mary wound her arms around his shoulders, and leaned in close. The devastation was apparent, but Gareth refused to show it.

"When did you become so wise?" Gareth joked, his eyes sparkling with tears.

"After you tricked me on your sixth birthday, and locked me out of the house because you wanted to watch a wildly inappropriate movie."

"Sounds like something I'd do." Gareth clasped her hand tighter. "What do you need me to do?"

"Take the gun, point it at my head, and pull the trigger. Gareth, I can't do this now. My hands, I can't feel my hands anymore. Or my legs." Mary was disgusted at her pitiful lack of strength. "It will be quick, my son."

Instead of fighting her like she assumed he would, he did not say anything as he stood up, and took the gun that was offered to him. Forcing her eyes on her son, it was hard to know what he was feeling when he always kept a firm handle on his emotions. Unlike what she thought she would feel when she met the end, she felt peace.

Even the pain was not nearly as terrible now that she would soon be leaving it to go someplace better. Closing her eyes when Gareth aimed the gun, she counted in her head until she heard the bang. The darkness that enveloped her life ever since the turn, was no more.

Light surrounded Mary in ways that bowled her over and left her speechless. Before she could even find her footing, she was assaulted with a hug so tight it almost knocked her over. Standing back to get a look at who was so happy to see her, tears came to her eyes when she saw Alex with a smile on his face. His trademark hoodie was on him, and he was standing with his father.

"Welcome home, Mom."

Unable to stop the tears that poured down her face, Mary simply let her actions do the talking. Stepping forward, she gripped her son tight, and sobbed into his shoulder. Those sobs were not for sadness, but were sobs of joy..

"We missed you, babe," Dan said, winking at her.

"I missed you. Both of you."