Hey guys! Just wanted to say, first of all, thanks for stopping by. This story has been in my head for a while and now I'm finally putting it in words. This is only part one in a series. I don't have a name for the series yet, but this is gonna be a relatively fluff-filled short installment for the sake of providing background. Hope you like it! #RIPGlenn I miss you forever. Okay lets get started.

She is plucking her berry bush of its sweet fruit, leaning her head around the plant every time she hears a noise. It had been twelve days since the last incident, twelve days since the citizens of Woodbury moved into their prison. That's the longest they've gone on peacefully since they lost the farm, and as much as Denver would love to relax and enjoy the rare serenity, to accept it, as a group they have gone through too much for her to even think about letting her guard down. There are just too many unpleasant surprises that could get people killed. Denver hasn't seen anyone die in what feels like a long time but she knows that means it's only a matter of time before that changes. She's been determined to make sure that when it does that that person isn't Carl Grimes, her closest friend from before the Outbreak, and the only family she has now. Ever since her own family died about a year before the world officially ended she has been an unofficial member of the Grimes' clan, although even under that psuedo-ambiguous definition of "family" Carl is the only one who's ever really made her feel at home. He's the one who suggested his parents take her in, he gave her his home. She owed him her life, and she would do anything to protect him, at times to his irritation but for the most part they were a team. That's why when Carl was asked to join Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie on a Pharmacy run, Denver invited herself adamantly to the task. Carl defended her position, too. Wherever he goes, she goes and vice versa.

"So, what, are you two like a thing now?" Daryl asked in hat scruffy voice and country accent that's become so familiar to everyone that knows him.

"What? No, that's gross. She's my best friend." Carl protested at the same time Denver replied:

"Heck no, we're like family."

The two looked at each other, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed by the others' immediate rejection. Daryl raised an eyebrow, trading looks with Michonne who was leaning on the doorway across the room, arms crossed, knee bent out. She shook her head almost microscopically.

"Well, Alright." Daryl announced, changing the subject. "We'll be headin' out at noon. Don't be late or you'll be left."

That was this morning. Denver shoves a few berries in her mouth to calm her nerves. Not that they held any particularly soothing qualities, it just helps to give her teeth something to do other than chatter and her hands something other than shake. Denver hated going outside the gates. She thought it was way too unpredictable and the possibility of things that were at once going fine drastically changing course and going horribly wrong ends up multiplying by infinity, and she deplored every moment of it. But she hated the idea of something happening to Carl while she's not there even more, so every time she decides to take it with a grain of salt. As long as he's safe, she tells herself. Every time.