Lilly Clearwater was a mystery to the harsh new world. It was a wonder she had survived the summer. While friends and family had been ripped to shreds before her eyes over the months, the young woman had managed to remain bite-free. Her method was surprisingly simple: Avoidance.

While people around her had chosen to fight for their lives, taking risks and facing the danger, Lilly had always run away. Rather than confront the horror around her, she hid. The apparent end of humanity had forced others to grow a hard, rough shell. They'd become tough and cold and always poised to strike at whatever came for them. Lilly had acquired a different sort of shell. Yes, it was hard, but it was something much more smooth and unabrasive. Lilly had become numb, in a way. Small, unnoticeable. She couldn't afford to feel emotions if she wanted to survive. It was better to hide in the darkest corner possible rather than face this new reality.

Hiding out in a cabin in the middle of nowhere was incredibly lonely, but in Lilly's mind, it was better to be alone than to risk being eaten. At first, Lilly had tried to mark the number of days she'd stayed in the well stocked cabin, but lost motivation after three months. The days had moulded together into a bland routine of sleeping, eating small portions of canned food, checking the locks on the doors, and sitting with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her occupied. Never once did Lilly look outside. Apart from the danger of a walker somehow realizing she was there, looking outside would make the nightmare real. Sitting and thinking disconnected her from that. She could pretend that the world wasn't ending, that her loved ones were still alive somewhere.

While avoiding life works for a while, the day always comes when you have to face reality - and Lilly's time was up.

It was chilly outside and the sun was setting. The night would only get colder now that winter was here. With a shuddering breath, Lilly gripped several blankets tighter around her small frame and watched the visible air puffing from her mouth. She was curled up in the attic of the cabin, as far from the walkers on the ground as possible. For a moment, she thought about how her method was no longer working but quickly pushed the fear aside and focused on something else - the fact she needed to cut her nails, for instance. As the temperatures had started dropping, Lilly knew in the back of her mind that she would never survive winter at this rate. She just didn't want to admit it to herself.

Just as she was starting to tune out the scary world around her, Lilly sat up slightly. Something was off. She went through a mental list of the locks - she had checked them all today. She had eaten the usual meager amount. The windows were closed as always, concealing the ever constant image of monsters wandering around outside.

Her ears perked up. The usual sounds of the dead groaning were absent. It was eerily silent.

Then Lilly heard a click. It was coming from the front door below. Her heart skipped a beat. The clicking continued, and after a tense moment, she heard the door creak open, followed by the sounds of footsteps entering the house.

After months of sitting alone, Lilly didn't know what to do. She hadn't seen other living people in such a long time. The last she had seen were a group of raiders that had killed the last of her family. She had barely escaped. What if these people were the same? The cabin was a good place to stay safe for a while, good enough for someone to kill her for it.

As more footsteps entered the cabin, Lilly curled in tighter on herself. The smart thing to have done - the thing that a survivor would do - would be to charge down their with a weapon and claim territory. But as before mentioned, Lilly was a mystery to the world of survivors. Instead, she chose to stay where she was and pray that they didn't check the attic. It was getting dark - even if they did, she might be able blend with the shadows enough.

With a weak but desperate prayer, Lilly squeezed her eyes shut and waited.

"You check upstairs, I'll keep to this floor." Daryl Dixon nodded in agreement to Rick's orders. Confident with the familiar feel of the crossbow in his hands, he slowly stepped up the rickety set of stairs. They complained slightly under his feet, despite his careful steps. Reaching the top, the hunter could see that there wasn't much to check. There was a single bathroom that looked forgotten by everything but dust. Next to it was a tiny bedroom, absent of everything but a broken dresser and a mattress, stripped of all blankets and sheets. Daryl frowned a little. In the face of the apocalypse, one would think to pay no attention to bed covers.

As Daryl stepped back out of the bedroom, a casual glance to the ceiling led him to discover the door to the attic. He didn't think much of it, only an idiot would stay up there without taking care of the walkers outside. But there was the possibility of someone hiding up there and becoming a walker.

Reaching a toned arm up to the latch of the attic door, Daryl carefully lowered it and allowed a ladder to descend. It squeaked, causing him to wince. When he heard nothing respond to the loud noise, however, Daryl relaxed, readjusted his crossbow over his shoulder, and climbed up. The sight above was dark and depressing. There was a single window in the attic that had been covered with cloth. On the opposite wall of the window was a stack of canned food. Daryl perked up at that - the group had been running low. It wasn't much, but anything helped.

As he got off the ladder and stood on his feet in the attic, another sight caught his attention and made him tense again. It had almost escaped his notice because it was hidden in the shadows - but not much escaped the hunter's attention. He gripped his crossbow in his hands again and squinted. It looked like a pile of blankets - maybe the ones from the bedroom below. Somebody had brought them up here. Judging between that and the cans of food, it was clear that someone had lived here.

Daryl aimed his crossbow at the mass of blanket. There was no way that someone was still alive - if they had been, surely they would have cleared the walker's outside. If there was a body up here now, it wasn't human anymore.

Once he had crept close enough to touch the blanket, Daryl readied his crossbow for the possibility of a walker under there. He reached his hand out and yanked it back, immediately seeing a figure curled up in the corner and stepping back to aim at its head.

A small yelp stopped him. "No, don't! Just - leave me alone!"

Daryl refrained from shooting, but didn't lower his weapon. "Who are ya? Are there others?"

The figure remained curled in the shadows, so he could only see the small outline. With a few shaky breaths, the person replied. "No, just me. Please don't shoot."

It was a girl's voice, seemingly hoarse from disuse. Sure she wasn't a threat, but unwilling to take any chances yet, Daryl kept his crossbow aimed. "Come out where I can see you and we'll talk about it."

Her only response was a shaky breath.

"I said come out!" Daryl ordered. So what if she was scared? He didn't have time to spoon feed a possible threat.

"Okay!" the voice replied quickly, repeating the word under her breath. Daryl watched as a pair of sock-covered feet poked out of the darkness as the figure stood. When she stepped out, he couldn't help but wonder if he was seeing a ghost.

Before him stood a slip of a young woman. A grey sweater hung limply off frail shoulders, falling to her mid-thighs. Her legs were covered with faded blue jeans. While the way her clothes hung off her skeletal frame was bothersome, it wasn't what made her ghostly. Her skin was sickly pale, as delicate as porcelain. Tangled, greasy dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, almost waist length. As Daryl took in her huge eyes and faded pink lips, he imagined she would have been stunning in another life. Even in this horrific state, there was still an edge of prettiness about her haunted appearance. That was saying something - Daryl was not one to find people attractive.

With sunken eyes, the woman stared anxiously at him. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was just standing there like a deer in the headlights, wringing her hands instead of gripping a weapon. It was clear that the frail thing was no threat - the slightest kiss of the wind could make her snap. With a sigh, Daryl lowered his crossbow. The woman didn't relax one bit. In fact, Daryl thought he saw her tense even more.

"What's your name?" He asked her evenly.

Her eyes flickered around wildly for moment as she took a breath, and again he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was a simple question! From the way she constantly shifted her weight from one foot to another, swallowing and licking her lips uncertainly, he surmised that she must have been alone for a while. Catching her constant nervous glance towards the crossbow in his hand, Daryl sighed once again and held his free hand up.

"Listen, I'm not gonna hurt you, kay? Here, I'll set this down if it helps." She watched him slowly lower the weapon to the ground, poised to fly away at the slightest unexpected movement. Once Daryl had stood again, both hands up to show he wouldn't hurt her, he tried again. "My name is Daryl. What's yours?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but had to clear her throat before any sound came out. "Lilly."

"Lilly," Daryl repeated quietly. She reminded him of a frightened animal that had to be coaxed into security. "Okay, Lilly, I have a group here. Do you mind if we stay for the night?"

Lilly hesitated. "Last time I met someone with a group, they killed what was left of my family."

Daryl nodded. "Well we won't do that."

"Why should I trust you?"

Daryl didn't know how to answer. After a moment he shrugged. "I guess you'll have to get to know us and decide for yourself." Judging from her strained expression, Daryl figured she didn't like the idea of socializing. "How long have you been here?"

"I dunno, I lost track," Lilly told him. "At least three months, maybe four or five now."

"By yourself?"

"Yeah... My family, my friends… they didn't last long."

"So how are you still here?" Daryl wondered aloud. Of all the people he'd met since this mess had started, this girl was the last person he thought could survive.

"They fought, I hid." Her reply was honest, but she couldn't help but lower her gaze to the ground as she said it. The confession brought her shame.

Before Daryl could interrogate her further, he heard Rick calling his name. "Daryl? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's safe. I'm up here!" Daryl answered. A moment later, Rick climbed up the ladder and paused at the sight of the stranger.

"Who's this?" he asked. His first instinct when he was up on his feet was to grab his gun from his belt, but seeing Daryl's crossbow on the ground made him change his mind. Lilly observed the newcomer nervously, and Rick took in her appearance as well.

"This is Lilly," Daryl said. "She's been up here for maybe four or five months, alone." He raised his eyebrows at Rick on that last word meaningfully. Rick got the message. This girl was lacking in the social department.

"Hi Lilly, I'm Rick." The once-policeman approached her with a hand outstretched, which she only looked at rather than shaking. He glanced at Daryl uncertainly.

Daryl explained. "Last group she met killed her people."

Eyes softening, Rick turned back to Lilly. "Listen, we aren't like that. We've got kids, good people. And as long as you don't try something on us, we won't have any problems. I promise."

Lilly thought for a moment. The two men seemed decent enough, but so had the last group. She wanted to send them away. She wanted to go back to her normal routine, alone. Being alone had worked best for her, after all.

But she felt the cold biting at her exposed face and hands. The light was just about gone from what she could tell by the covered window. How could she send anybody to fend for themselves on a winter night like this? Lilly was a solitary woman, but she didn't want people to be in more danger because of her.

"You can stay here," she finally told Rick.

He nodded. "We appreciate that. Thank you."

"There's food if you want," Lilly added, gesturing to the stack of cans nearby. "You can sleep anywhere but up here."

With an awkward pause, Rick exchanged a look with Daryl and went back down the ladder to tell the others. This left Daryl and Lilly to stand across from each other in a wary silence. Playing with the frayed sleeve of her sweater, Lilly cleared her throat again. "Um, as long as you aren't very loud, it should be pretty safe here." Daryl nodded, thinking to himself that he'd never imagined he'd meet some less socially capable than him. Finally, Lilly tilted her head to the ladder. "You should join them."

"You not going to meet the others?"

Lilly shook her head timidly and turned to the blanket she'd left in the corner, picking it up to wrap around herself again. Daryl took the hint and left without another word.

…..

"You're sure she's harmless?"

"She has no weapons. Too scared to try anything anyways."

The group had settled in the sitting room of the cabin and were enjoying the first fireplace they'd seen in ages. As Carol had been passing out their small dinner for the night, Lori was slumped on the couch and wary of the lonely soul in the attic.

"Something's off about this," Lori mumbled to herself.

"Something's off about the world," Hershel piped up. "I'm sure she's got some mental problems from all this."

"Who in their right mind would hide out here alone, surrounded by walkers?" T-Dog wondered aloud.

Hershel raised his eyebrows at him. "Exactly."

Carol looked up at the ceiling with a frown. "It doesn't feel right - knowing she's just up there by herself while we're all down here eating and getting warm."

"Should we bring her something?" Glenn suggested.

"I don't wanna freak her out."

"We're sure with safe with her around, right?" Maggie spoke up. "If she does have some… mental issues… she's not very stable."

Throughout all of this conversation, Daryl had been brooding in the corner, leaning against the wall. For the past hour he'd listened to the group talk in circles about Lilly - if she was dangerous, what her problem was. He'd gotten sick of it. "Maybe instead of yackin away about her, someone just goes and talks to the girl herself."

That shut the group up. There was a moment of uncomfortable glances, people silently daring others to do it. Daryl rolled his eyes at their pettiness. "Honestly, it's the end of the world and you're acting like a bunch o' schoolgirls." He turned to stomp up the stairs.

"Daryl," Carol stopped him. He turned and watched as she dished up another bowl of soup and handed it to him. "Would you give her this?" Daryl nodded and left.

When he reached the attic again, he breathed in the frigid air. It was too dark to see anything. Before he could fully get off the ladder and into the attic, Lilly's voice cut him off sharply.

"I said no coming up here."

"Relax," Daryl huffed. "My group just thought you might be hungry." He continued the rest of the way into the room and squinted in the darkness. "You got a light around?"

There was the sound of shifting blankets as Lilly reluctantly felt around her for the oil lamp. She touched the cold metal and fiddled with it for a minute. Daryl listened to the clicking as she tried to get it to light. When he heard her curse lightly under her breath, his mouth twitched. "Problem?"

"I haven't used this hardly at all," Lilly admitted quietly. "I can't get it to work."

"Here." Daryl fished in his back pocket for a lighter he always kept on him and flicked it on. The flame didn't do much, but it was enough to see the dark shape of the girl sitting on the floor. He knelt down next to her and felt for the lamp. After a second of tinkering, a small flame started growing. As it grew brighter, Lilly's pale face was slowly illuminated in the yellow glow. Satisfied, Daryl sat back.

He held the bowl out to her. "It's probably the same crap you've been eating for months, but I guess it's the group's way of saying hello or whatever."

Lilly took it with delicate hands and held it close. "Haven't had warm food in a while."

Daryl frowned at her as she took a mouthful. "What d'ya mean? It's not that hard to light a fire."

"I was nervous the dead people would realize I was here."

"You did nothing to get rid of 'em?"

Embarrassed, Lilly focused on her soup. When Daryl continued to watch her expectantly, she bit her lip. "I was… scared."

"Scared," Daryl deadpanned back. While he couldn't see that great in the dim light, he could swear he saw a light blush dust Lilly's cheeks. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he muttered "How are you still alive, girl?"

"I don't take risks," Lilly answered after swallowing soup. "I had a group - they fought, took chances, relied on 'if's' and 'maybe's'. Then they trusted people. More 'if's' and 'maybe's'. That's what got them killed." Daryl listened. This was the most she'd spoken on her own. "Me," Lilly continued, "I hid. Stopped trusting. And it's kept me alive much longer than anyone else I've met."

"'Cept us," Daryl intervened.

Lilly met his gaze. Her words were so quiet he almost didn't hear. "It won't last."

Daryl scoffed. "And you think you will? Sitting up here like some fairytale princess? You're gonna run out of food, supplies. You're gonna have to leave."

"At least this way I know what's gonna happen," Lilly retorted weakly.

"You need to wake up," Daryl told her. "Get used to 'if's' and 'maybe's' - they're all we got."

Lilly was quickly growing uncomfortable with the discussion. She was starting to regret letting Daryl come up. Setting down the now empty bowl, she changed the subject. "How long will your group be here?"

"We're leavin' in the morning. Gotta stay ahead of the herds." Lilly nodded silently. Daryl was torn between pity and annoyance at her cluelessness. "This place will be surrounded with walkers again in days. You know that right?" She didn't respond, merely picking at her tattered sweater sleeve. "Maybe you should come with us."

"No -" Lilly started quickly.

"They're more scared of you than you are of them." At Lilly's shocked expression, Daryl snorted. "Seriously, you're creepin' them out - sitting up here in the dark like a crazy person."

Lilly mulled this over in her mind. She knew her behavior wasn't normal, she knew she was a coward compared to other survivors. Most importantly, she knew Daryl was right. Lilly was going to have to face reality or die.

But would dying be so bad? she wondered. Death had always scared her, but with the end of the world it seemed that reality was only worse. Staying and letting herself starve out would be easiest. Going with a new group, forming relationships that could be lost at any moment, relying on others, sleeping with one eye open… that was hard.

"I think you are good people," Lilly spoke softly. "But… I can't join."

Daryl didn't like her answer, but he wasn't going to bully her about it. Her decisions were her own business. With a nod, he took the empty bowl from her and headed back to the ladder. "You have all night to think it over." He took a final glance back at her small frame, so delicate and unsure. It felt wrong to leave someone so innocent to fend for themselves.

"Hope you change your mind, princess."