I do not own anything except for my OC, June. TWD belongs to Robert Kirkman and AMC.

I loved my little brother more than anything. I was twelve and he was six when we first met. He's technically my half-brother, but that was never important. I wasn't even aware that he existed until one day I came home from school and found him asleep on the couch. Dad had explained to me that his mother had OD'd on something or another and suddenly he was just there in my life. He never left my side, he was my best friend. Dad was bit and after that it was just Keith and I. So, when he died two months after dad, a piece of me went with him.

I didn't want to live, but he made me promise I would try my best to live in this world of danger. Dad told me to protect Keith and I couldn't do that, so I thought that the least I could do was listen to my little brother's last request. I assumed I would spend whatever little time I had left alone, but I was very, very wrong. All because my life changed for the better on a hot, sunny day in the woods thanks to a little girl named Sophia.

I was trying my best to stay cool with shade from the trees. My red curls had been sticking to my sweaty neck all day and I decided I deserved a nice, quiet break. I sat myself down on the ground, my back against the tree. Today was peaceful. I hadn't run into any shell-heads all day and I had found five cans of peaches and four cans of beans. That, on top of all the cans of tuna I had found two days ago, would have me set for at least another week and a half! I really hit the jackpot. Maybe my luck was turning around.

I was packing my bags after my short break when I heard something moving my way. No, not a something. A someone. A FAST someone. Meaning, I was most definitely about to come face to face with a living person. My first reaction was to run, but there's no telling how badly that would end. This stranger could have a gun and I do not want to get shot today, so instead I pull out the hatchet from my belt and prepared for a fight. Hopefully, whoever was making all the noise would, like me, just want to walk away from the situation. I can hear whoever it is getting closer. They should be just behind me and my tree. I peer behind it when suddenly, I'm knocked off my feet. A pair of hands have pushed me to the ground.

The air leaves my lungs and I feel anger and fear. Anger at myself and fear for my future life expectancy. Somehow this person has caught me off guard and they don't seem friendly if how they knocked me to the ground says anything. I can vaguely feel the stranger grabbing me. Shaking me. My hearing is the first thing that comes back and a soft "sorry" and "didn't mean to" greets my ears. I peer up in the direction of the voice and kneeling above me is a little girl. She has tears in her eyes and she is letting out tiny gasps of air. Her dirty blonde hair is tickling my nose and I can't understand what is happening. Is this tiny girl the one who knocked the wind out of me? That's embarrassing.

She's grabbing my arm and telling me I need to get up when I see one of them. So, this kid was running from a shell-head, huh? Where in the hell were her parents at? No, it doesn't matter right now. What does matter is getting up and making sure this thing doesn't take a bite outta the kid.

I slowly get up with the girl's help and grab my hatchet that had fallen from my hands. I look to the girl and hold my hand up at her hoping she gets my message. Don't move. She lets out a small sniffle, but nods her head. Happy with her reply, I look back to the shell-head only to find him stumbling towards me. I lunge for him before he even has the chance to surprise me. He drops to the ground and I tuck my hatchet back onto my belt. I turn back to the girl. She has her eyes closed and she's clutching the bottom of her shirt with her hands.

I don't want to alarm her, but if there were more following her I need to know. "Hey, kid." I call out to her and she opens her eyes wide. She looks so scared and my heart aches for her, 'Are there more?"

Her tiny brow furrows and she shakes her head. I let out a breath of relief and take a moment to take stock of the situation. This kid obviously doesn't know where she is if the lost way she's looking around is anything to go on. I don't have anywhere to be, so maybe I can help her find her parents. Her eyes find mine and she looks guilty when she asks, "are you okay, lady?"

At first I, don't understand what she is asking, but then I realize my breathing is still labored and it's because of this tiny girl who can't be more than 12 years old.

"Don't worry, I'm okay," I'm quick to reassure her. And it's true, I'm fine. The only thing that's bruised is my pride. "You probably thought I was one of those things, right?"

She slowly nods her head in confirmation.

We sit in an uncomfortable silence after that. I'm not sure how to ask her if she needs help. I'm about to just come out and ask when her eyes widen and she looks around frantically. She lets out a gasp and the tears that had slowly left her eyes are now returning.

"Have you seen my doll?" she practically screeches this sentence and my index finger instinctively comes to rest on my mouth. She covers her mouth with her hand and the tears start slowly spilling onto her cheeks. In a lower voice, she tells me, "I told my friend that I'd take care of her"

Instinct taking over from all the times I had to comfort my brother, I crouched in front of her and wiped the tears away and whispered, "How about we go look for your doll, okay?" She nods and hiccups as I stand back up. I extend my hand for her to take. She looks at it warily and I don't expect her to take it, but she seems to trust me since I just saved her from the shell-head and grabs it. She's cleaner than I am so the dirt from my palm wipes off in hers, but she doesn't seem to mind.

I pick my bag up from the ground where it had been discarded and the girl starts leading me in the direction she had come from. She seems terrified, but she doesn't stop. It strikes me that I neither know this girl's name nor where her parents are.

I tap her hand with my thumb and she looks up at me. I try to stop walking, but she tugs me forward and so we keep going. "What's your name, kiddo? And why were you even out here?" I whisper in case there are more of them roaming around.

"Sophia," She tries to match my tone, but it still comes out a little too loud. "I got separated from my mom. Carl's dad, Mr. Grimes, ran after me, but he had to get the other ones away."

Well that explains why she's alone, I suppose. I still don't know how to get her back to her mother, but at least we're getting somewhere. I expected this little girl, Sophia, to fear me, but she seems perfectly at ease. I'm glad she ran into someone like me and not someone who would take advantage of her trusting attitude.

"Where's your mother right now, Sophia?" I need to know if I'm ever going to get her back.

"Everyone is back on the highway!" she speaks too loudly once again, but there's excitement in her voice this time and I don't have the heart to shush her. Wait, Everyone? So, she and her mother must be with a group. She did mention someone named Carl and his father. Perhaps we'll run into them while we're out here looking for her doll.

There's a rustling to our left and I immediately stop. Sophia looks to the bush where the noise came from. I can see the fear on her face as she glances back at me.

"It's okay," I reassure her, "I can take care of it." She doesn't look very confident in that sentence so I ruffle her hair and receive a tiny scowl in return.

A shell-head trips and falls out of a large bush. She groans as she looks up at the two of us. I take out my hatchet and take a step forward when I hear more moans. A lot more. That's not good. I back away and grab Sophia's hand.

"We need to go, kiddo." There's more moaning and I tell her more urgently, "we need to go now!"

She's shaking and the tears are back, but she nods. I tug her in the opposite direction and she follows. I start out in more of a quick jog, not sure if Sophia will be able to keep up with me when I start running. I was a track star in high school, supposed to go to college on Scholarship. Not even my team mates could keep up with me. My coach always told me that I would one day regret not learning to run with others. "Learn the difference in running ahead of others and leading them, June," he would tell me. I never understood because I was in front in both situations, wasn't I?

Now, with a little girl's life in my hands, I think I understand. As much as I just want to bolt away from the dead chasing us, I have to lead Sophia from danger. She's counting on me.

Seeing her keep up fairly well, I speed up. Broken tree limbs are crushed under our feet and as we continue to sprint and she almost trips on one before I help her steady herself. We are only running for maybe three or four minutes when I start to hear her breathing heavily. I slow myself down and fight the smidgen of irritation I can feel bubbling. There's no need to be a jerk. Sh'e trying her best and not everyone runs for fun.

"You're doing good, kid. I just need you to keep running for a few more minutes and then we should be off the hook," She looks behind us after my comment and then nods her head fiercely before speeding up. Taken off guard by her sudden change of speed, I stumble slightly. I quickly regain my previous speed and run along side Sophia.

We run for another few minutes until I decide we're in the clear. I slowly come to a stop and Sophia, still holding my hand, follows my lead. She plops to the ground with a loud huff and tries to get her breathe back. I stay standing, listening for any signs of a threat. Finding no immediate threat, I turn my head back to the little girl still on the ground who is still gasping for air.

"Not a fan of P.E. classes?" I ask her.

"Nuh, uh," is her reply in between her large intakes of breath.

I offer the kid my hand and pull her up once she grabs it. Letting go, she pats the dirt off her bottom and glances back in the direction of the large group of dead.

"My doll?" she is still slightly out of breath, but the words come out clearly. I know she wants to find it, but we can't look for it with that giant group of them around. I can't really take her back to the highway either right now. There's no telling which direction those things are going.

"We can go look for your doll another time Sophia. We should find a safe place to stay for now. There were a lot of shell-heads back there." I tell her this as gently as possible. She seems very sensitive about this doll and I really don't need the poor kid to start crying all over again.

I was expecting tears, but she only asks me, "A shell-head?"

Oh. "Ya know. Those things."

"That's a dumb name," she informs me. Oh, okay. First, this kid rugby tackles me and then she insults my creative name giving skills. I'm incredibly insulted now. "I bet you have a dumb name too," Is she trying to aggravate me now?

"My name is June."

"That's dumb." Yes. The answer is yes.

I let out a loud sigh and I tell her of a barn I found earlier in the day. You know, before my day was interrupted by a sassy pre-teen. She follows me while whispering about how dumb it is to name your kid after a month. Never have I ever wanted to fight a kid more than I do in this very moment.

AN: Hi guys! So I'm still not used to this site so I apologize for all the errors! Also I would really appreciate any feedback you guys might be able to give me! Also the end pairing will be June and Beth, so if anyone was looking for a DayrlxOC story then you are out of luck my friend. I apologize for anyone who might have thought this. Also, if Sophia seems a little OOC its because she is based more on comic book Sophia.