When I literally stumbled into the prison, I had been so shocked and so full of panic, I had stood, pressed against the gate for probably close to 3 hours.

I had emerged from the thickest bit of forest, out of breath but certain I was far enough away. No one would bother to track me this far. I had escaped.

I had then stood against the fence, a nice thicket of trees covering my body from view, and I watched. I watched the people milling around, going about their day. All activity about a quarter of a mile away from me. No one was going to spot me unless they had walked directly up to my hiding spot and rearranged some serious foliage.

A younger kid with a cowboy hat spent a long time working a part of the field where tufts of vegetables were growing, next to what looked like stables. Littler kids had come out of the prison following a woman to get cooking meat set on their plates.

The place had seemed pretty safe; the people had seemed pretty non threatening. A younger guy and a girl holding hands walked past the guard tower together and took places by the fence, each picking up pikes and punching into the skulls of the few zombies doing basically what I was doing against the fence.

Then the loud noise. I heard a sort of roar off in the distance. It sounded like a motorcycle. Who else had motorcycles? For a second, I went into sheer panic mode. They were coming, they had found me.

Mentally, I had shaken myself. It doesn't matter. Theres so much forest, theyd never come into this particular patch. Right?

The roaring got louder. My resolve faltered a little bit. I looked around, brain trying to process my slim options. It was then that I had started to move towards the one place that looked like it could potentially provide me sanctuary. Moving along the fence I hurried towards what looked like the main gate of the prison.

The roaring was getting louder. Shit. It had started to sound like it was getting uncomfortably close. Had they found the prison too? Maybe I wasn't as far off as I had thought. Maybe they honestly would track someone this far.

I halted in my tracks, on the edge of the forest. Any farther along the fence, Id have been in plain view. To stay hidden, Id have to leave the fence and go farther back to the trees. I had held perfectly still, watching the main gate and the road.

The couple seemed to be busying themselves with chains on the gate. A dusty Dodge truck came into view from the tree line, followed closely by a Harley. Both vehicles were admitted through the set of gates and the drivers had begun to pull supplies out of the back of the truck.

Looked like a guy with a Stetson and dark girl from the truck and a guy with something dangling off his back from the motorcycle.

I had felt my breath woosh back into my lungs. I hadn't realized Id been holding it. It wasn't them. I was safe.

The couple had headed up the guard tower together, I watched one of them grab a pretty hefty looking rifle from the post.

Ok Grey. Lets go ahead and just get this over with.

Looking back, I must have still been in more shock than I had realized. This was a dangerous and moronic thing to do, but apparently at the time, seemed perfectly logical. I guess I had just been in a state of needing to feel surrounded by something resembling home. Something safe.

I had then plucked up what remaining courage I had, and stepped out from the trees.

I had nothing on me, except my clothes, but in a show of subordination, I put my hands up, kept my eyes on the group pulling objects out of the truck and had simply begun to walk towards them.

"Hey. HEEEY!" The girl screamed from the tower, alerting the supply group, who had all acted quickly scanning the fence in unison and spotting me.

I continued walking.

The supply group began pulling weapons up, aimed at me, and all three headed through the first safety gate to greet me, but only on the other side on the prison fence.

The others back up at the prison had been alerted too, a small crowd had gathered a safe distance away, the boy from the little farm had run down to stand behind the supply group.

There were three zombies between the gate and me. They had noticed me and began to head by direction. The darker girl dutifully stepped past the two men, and slid a sword through the fence, stabbing each one in the head, leaving my path clear.

"Hi there," the guy with the Stetson said.

I stepped around a wooden blockade and was in front of the little group.

"Where did you come from?" Stetson asked, concerned.

I then realized how I must have looked.

"I was traveling with a group, and- Well, now I'm not." There was so much more than this, but I was having a difficult time even looking at these people, let alone unloading my past on them.

"Theres none of them with you?"

"No," I answered. "They are all pretty far away by now."

I had glanced up to see Stetson giving me a pretty decent once-over. He must have decided I wasn't dangerous, because he lowered his gun, opened the gate a tiny bit and crunched across the ground until he was standing in front of me. He made a little motion to his two guards to stay close to him though. They moved in, weapons still ready.

"How many walkers have you killed?" He asked me.

"I'm not sure. More than Ive kept count of." I answered, still looking down at my blood covered clothes.

"How many people have you killed?" he asked.

I hesitated on this one. I didn't know what he wanted to hear.

"Shes trying to decide whether to lie to you or not." The male guard said gruffly.

Fuck.

Keeping my eyes down, I decided not to lie. "Twelve." I answered.

Stetson paused, I saw him glance back towards his people.

Next question from him: "why?"

"One because I was asked to, seven for protection, and four because…" I had trailed off. I then inhaled and looked Stetson full in the face. "Because they deserved it."

Stetson frowned a little, cocked his head in way to say "alright then" and held out his hand to me. I held out my bloodstained one. "My name's Rick".

This had been a week ago. They had set me up with a little cell of my own, introduced me to a small group of people, walked me around on a tour, got me cleaned up. For the most part, they seemed to be keeping me separated. They were keeping me locked up, and Id been given a guard who would take me to the bathroom or brought me food. I guess they were trying to decide if I was sane or normal enough to be released among the prison dwellers. They had purely given me a female guard, makes sense and was thoughtful.

I liked Maggie. She was quiet, but she would give me smiles without showing her teeth when I made eye contact with her.

She brought me a tray of food, all cooked veggies today. Probably because she was bored, she sat down outside my cell and began picking through her own plate. I noticed her avoiding her carrots, setting them on a far side of the plate, so they wouldn't contaminate her potatoes any further.

She had been very nice to me when Id gotten my first shower. She had volunteered to hunt down some clothes and had helped me clean all the blood out of my long, normally blond, hair.

It was probably because we were pretty close in age, she must have felt a small connection between us.

Her boyfriend's name was Glennn. I hadn't seen him yet, but she'd mentioned him a few times.

I finished my plate before her, so I waited until she was done and turned around to look at me before I offered her my plate through the bars.

"You want my carrots?" She asked me, holding her carefully sectioned carrots up.

"Sure," I smiled, "Like I'm going to turn down food."

She smiled in agreement and we traded plates through the bars.

"I'm not normally picky, but something about the carrots here. I'm not sure what it is.

"I think Rick is gonna come in and check on you today. Hes probably going to make a decision about your trustworthiness with the council and maybe even give you a job." Maggie said encouragingly. "I think youre going to be ok, though. You seem pretty normal"

Rick had been coming by the past week a few times. He'd just sit on a chair outside the cell. Sometimes he'd talk just talk to me, ask me questions about where I've been, things about before the whole world went to shit. Sometimes he wouldn't. He would clean his gun and look at me. I didn't mind. He was pretty decent looking. I had noticed a wedding ring on his hand, but no mention of an actual wife.

He had told me how terrifying I had looked when I'd come to the fence. I'd seen my refection that day, I was aware of what I'd looked like. And I knew why I'd looked like that. But it had gotten a smile out of him, so when he brought it up and grinned, I couldn't help but grin back and laugh about the blood stains and chunks of flesh stuck to me that Rick didn't realize had been fairly fresh and had come from living humans.

Maggie left, but gave me a book on her way out to keep me company for a while.

I was a fast reader. I heard a door slamming, which made me flinch, and then a set of footsteps and a pair of crutches, around page 85.

Rick stopped in front of my cell, Herschel hobbling next to him. The old man gave me a very pleasant smile that I immediately returned. He was one of the few people I had already been introduced to.

I stood up and leaned against the bars.

Rick held up a key. " Your freedom comes with expectations from this group and serious consequences if you break our trust or fail to perform as requested. We will not tolerate misconduct, lying, thievery, or violence. Grey, do you accept these conditions?"

Rick had asked me my name one day when he was sitting in the chair. I had told him, but asked him to call me by my last name. He had looked a bit puzzled, but agreed. I was relieved. I never wanted to hear my first name again.

I nodded, staring at the lock on my cell, but looked up to Rick to say, "Yes."

He reached down and unlocked my cell. Herschel's smile got even bigger, "Welcome to our family!" Herschel seemed quite pleased.

"Well, Grey, I figured we could set you up with some target practice first. See what your aim is like and what sort of training youre going to need."

When he'd asked me how my aim was during a chair session, I'd been vague.

The field was pretty empty, a few people still wandering around after their lunch. Rick grabbed a duffel bag sitting on table.

I laughed, "You mean to tell me youre going to let me out of jail and just hand me a gun first thing?"

Rick laughed a little too. "Yes maam. Gotta know what I'm dealing with here."

Herschel's smile became more pronounced and he slowly hobbled off back to the prison, leaving Rick and me standing on the edge of the field.

The kid with the cowboy hat came into view from behind the guard tower. He quickly walked towards us.

" Targets are set up, dad." He called to Rick.

I started. Dad? I didn't think Rick looked that old. That kid had to be like, 13? 14?

When the kid got close enough, he made eye contact with me and smiled a little goofily.

"Grey, this is my son Carl. Carl, this is our newest member, Grey." Rick said. Carl took off his hat and mumbled something that sounded like "ma'am".

"I'll be back here, dad. Let me know if you need more targets, or ammo, or a gun. Or anything." Carl had said all of this while walking backwards and keeping his gaze fixed on me.

Rick snickered a little and turned towards me, "Wow, he hasn't been that helpful in a long while. He thinks youre pretty."

I grinned embarrassedly while Rick led me out across the field.

Cans had been set up as targets, perched on various heights of wooden posts.

He pulled a revolver out of the duffel and let me load it. I was given free reign to shoot when ready. I only missed once out of the six shots. Rick seemed pleased, but I told him I'd never been great with handguns.

He gave me another six bullets. I watched him while I loaded the bullets. He was staring at the ground and looked as though he was thinking hard about something.

I tucked my head a little, to try to get his attention. He looked up suddenly, as though he'd made some sort of decision.

" Your grip is close, but not quite perfect." He made eye contact and then moved behind me, gauging my reaction.

A familiar panic tightened my chest as he pressed a little bit into my back. He must have felt my breathing quicken because he pulled away a fair amount. I turned my head to look at him, painfully aware of how terrified I must look, eyes all wide, heart beating twice as fast as necessary.

"Grey?" He asked, "are you ok? I don't have to touch you if youre uncomfortable with it. Really."

I tried to push down the anxiety I was feeling. Rick was ok. I knew that. I'd been around him even more than Maggie the past week.

He looked kind of upset and quite a bit worried.

I decided to make a move of faith and force myself to see that it really was ok. I nodded to Rick and then gently stepped back to place my back up against him again. He seemed to be even more cautious this time. He wrapped his arms around me to show me exactly where my elbows should be pointing to avoid recoil and where my hands should be on the gun.

The next round of shots went even better than the first.

"That's really great, Grey. Youre really good. We need another good shot for runs and protection. Did you have a weapon of choice with your other group?"

"Actually Rick, what do you have up there?" I asked motioning towards the guard tower.

What I hadn't told Rick in the chair session might become my best asset to the entire group.

Rick made another head tilt to me, indicating consent. "Alright then, lets go up there."

He followed me up the staircase.

Sitting, propped against the ledge, was a .308 sniper rifle. Now this is my weapon of choice.

He handed me a box of bullets. I pushed them into the cartridge and loaded the gun. I felt the familiar sliding motion of the bolt.

I ripped a bit of my shirt cuff off and tied my hair back in a long pony tail.

Then I pointed for him, the zombie I was aiming for. This thing was an impressive distance away. I nailed it, first shot, in the head.

"Holy shit, Grey." Rick muttered.

I pulled this off a few more times until…

"Jesus Christ, Grey, that had to be about 800 yards!" Rick exclaimed.

I smiled and set the gun back up against the wall. I followed him down the stairs this time. Rick seemed slightly stunned.

A small group of people had assembled against the fence, taking out the mob of zombies that had congregated during the noise of my practice.

I could feel tension lingering with Rick. He felt bad about freaking me out and was now acting sort of funny.

After shooting practice, he took me to see the farm they had been growing. They even had some animals. He was so proud of his prison. I thought it was really sweet. The place did seem well run and taken care of. And everyone had a place.

He let me pet a baby pig and then asked me to help him plant seeds. They had found a bunch of different vegetable seeds at a hardware store north of here. He even gave me gloves.

We worked in relative silence. I got dirt all over my boots and probably stained my dark jeans. But I was having a hard time caring.

Sweat was starting to bead up around the neckline of my shirt from the effort and I was starting to get pungent. I took a filthy glove off and wiped my forehead. It didn't help much, but then, without even thinking about it, I stuck my hand in the dirt to help keep a plant still that Rick was transferring.

The dirt under my fingernails. I ripped off my other glove and began to pick the dirt out. Hard. So hard that the underneath of my nails had started to bleed.

He noticed. He didn't even say anything. He took his gloves off and took my hand in his, as slowly as he could and looked at me questioningly. His green eyes full of disgust? Curiosity? He reached up, again very slowly, giving me time to reject the touch, and wiped something off my face, just next to my eyebrow.

That night I was introduced to more people. With Rick leading the introductions enthusiastically. He must have forgotten or ignored my strangeness earlier. Everyone seemed pretty happy to meet me. Kind of oddly happy. Like everyone had a good-natured secret they weren't letting me in on.

A large group of people had dinner outside, seated at tables or sitting up against the walls of the prison. It was nice to be in that sort of atmosphere. No tension, no worry. It was easy to sit back with my plate of beans and even half a piece of fruit for dessert and make friends with people. Easily talk to them.

Carl made a point to stop by twice to tell me how impressive my shooting had been. I guess he'd been watching. I took the compliments both times with a big smile.

When dinner was over and people began to head to bed, I offered to help clean up, but a nice older lady practically shooed me away.

One or two other newer people lived in my cell block, but I didn't see them. I had no idea how to get back to my "room". I stood there pathetically for a minute until Herschel caught me gazing around."Oh don't worry, you'll figure this place out soon enough, but let me find you Rick. My leg you know, I shouldn't be clacking around so much or I'd take you myself."

I thought this was strange, considering I'd watched this man blaze around on his crutches almost nonstop that day.

True to his word, Herschel hobbled off and a minute later, Rick appeared.

"Lost, Grey?" He asked, managing to sound not completely fed up with me after the whole day.

He wasn't wearing his hat, and his hair had fallen out of place, looking tussled, like he'd gotten out of bed purely to come see me to my room. It seemed to me like he was the ring leader of this whole operation, so I didn't understand why I warranted such a privileged tour guide this late at night.

I smiled, at his hair and at the situation. He motioned with his head for me to follow him. One complicated path later, we stood outside my cell. The other patrons of the cell block seemed to be MIA. It was creepy in the dark without anyone else there.

Rick must have known how I was feeling because he turned without a word and grabbed a flashlight from a little stash inside a broken fire hose holder.

He handed it to me and opened my cell door for me, I walked in, prepared to hand the light back, but to my surprise, he stepped in after me.

We both stood awkwardly for a few seconds.

"Grey," he started, "what happened in the field today was completely my fault. I'm sorry I just did that without asking you. You forget how to be properly appropriate nowadays."

"Its ok, Rick. It really is."

"I could just see how uncomfortable that made you. And I don't know you well and you don't know me and I just wanted to apologize. I can't imagine what everyone else in the world has gone through since this all happened, so I forget things" he said meaningfully.

For one fleeting second I wanted to pour my soul out to this man. Maybe just to get it off my chest. Maybe just to see what it would feel like to tell someone. Tell someone what happened. Maybe even to watch their response to my confessions. Watch their face change while I told them.

But I didn't.

I nodded to him. He stood for a few more seconds, then suddenly turned and left.

I remained where I was and watched him leave.

I didn't sleep well that night.

The very nice older lady from dinner last night came and fetched me in the morning.

She waited for me to get dressed and gave me a small piece of smoked meat for breakfast. I pulled my hair back up in it's high ponytail and tied it off as we exited the block.

She took me to the little water towers they had; explained to me where they got their water, how it was rationed. She asked if I could cook. If I knew how to tell when meat was done. If I knew anything about electrical or plumbing or carpentry. Unfortunately, I hadn't prepared well for the coming apocalypse I had known nothing about. I had studied biology. I had no clue how to do much with a vehicle either, other than clean it or change a tire.

She politely reminded me her name was Carol and kept smiling when I told her I hadn't a notion how to do anything useful around the prison. Nothing like a world full of zombies to make a bachelors degree bring down my self worth.

"I saw you shoot, don't worry, youre already a really great asset. And its not like we are going to kick you out or something just because you can't build a house." Carol assured me. "If Daryl were here, he'd be the one teaching you hand to hand combat. He's on a run though. Have you met him?"

I shook my head.

"He was there when they brought you in, you probably just don't remember him.

Well, it looks like the council's plan is to get you all combat ready. Youll be our back up on some of the runs we have planned."

I asked her where Rick was, I hadn't seen him yet that day.

"Oh hes around. I think hes with Herschel today. Don't worry, you'll see him at some point today, I'm very sure." She gave me a pleasant, knowing arm pat. "Hey, by the way. Be careful right now. I've heard some people are getting sick and I want to try and keep that contained. I know its hard to stay sanitary nowadays, but you know, give it a shot."

She excused me for the rest of the day.

I went back out to the animals first. I noticed the momma pig didn't look great. I held one of the piglets for a while, just gazing over the fence. While I set the wriggling, pink thing back in the pen, I hoped they weren't getting sick.

There isn't much to do in a secluded prison during a zombie apocalypse. I quickly discovered that after a few days of freedom. So, I threw myself into helping as much as I possibly could. I probably wasn't actually doing much good, I couldn't carry much weight or anything, but I tried.

Like Carol had said, even if Rick was busy the whole day, he'd find some time during the day to come seek me out. I didn't know what to think of this. It was really cute of him.

Id been assigned guard duty one day, early morning. I was told by Maggie's boyfriend Glenn to sit in the tower and watch for any suspicious behavior. Especially from some guy with an eye patch. What a weird thing to say. What was he going to do? Come up to the gate and scale the damn thing, or something? Confused as I was, Glenn gave me a darkly significant look while he said it. Alright, I'll have to take him at his word that there was some history there. Beware the eye patch, I had thought. Take the eye patch very seriously.

I sat in a fold out metal chair, feet on the rail, knees bent with the gun propped on them. I was staring through the scope, making "eye contact" with zombies.

"Bang, bang" I muttered to myself, pretending to shoot one stuck in between two trees.

I heard noise coming up the stairs of the tower. I turned, expectantly, in my chair. Rick emerged, I smiled. Id figured that's who it was. He didn't smile back.

He walked over and crouched next to me.

I took my legs off the rail and shifted to him.

"Whats wrong?" I asked, "you look so worried."

"Two people were murdered, Grey. Two. Someone murdered them. Someone in this prison murdered them." He said seriously.

Oh shit.

"Where were you last night, Grey?" he asked.

"I was in my cell all night. I never left. This morning I got up and Glenn found me at breakfast. He asked me to come do guard duty." I said. This was turning pretty worrisome.

He turned his head to me. "Look, youre the new comer. And after the number you told me, this doesn't look good."

Oh shit, he totally thinks its me.

"My number? The number of people I've killed? No, Rick, you've got to understand. I've never just killed people I barely knew just for kicks. I never killed anyone without a pretty god damn good reason." I said as forcefully as I could. I didn't want him to think it was me. I didn't want to leave the prison. "Ive been up here all day. Ask anyone."

He looked up from his crouched position and into my eyes. "Grey, please tell me it wasn't you. Please. I don't want it to have been you."

I looked back at him slightly frantically, "It wasn't, Rick. I swear to you. I promise."

Please don't make me leave.

He sighed. "Ok, but now I've got to figure out who it was."

He asked me to come see the crime scene with him. I knew he had been a cop, so I didn't know what services I could possibly provide that he could find useful.

The two people had been drug out of their cell block and set on fire. It was a gruesome scene. I guess the girl who died had a boyfriend. He was being brought to the scene by Carol.

Rick was looking around for any clues, when they came in the little back area. The guy looked between all of us questioningly and then back at the bodies. And then I guess he understood. And then he freaked out.

"This is murder!" He was screaming at anyone in the courtyard. Then he focused in on Rick. "Youre a cop, you figure out who did this and you bring them to me. Do you understand? To me!"

"Tyreese, I understand how you feel, I've been there, you've seen me there. We know how you feel. We've all lost someone." Rick was speaking low and urgently.

Tyreese started pacing, he was starting to look like a caged animal.

"I know how you feel," Rick repeated.

Then Tyreese slugged Rick.

I screamed. I was almost two inches shorter than Rick and weighed much less, but in that moment I didn't even care. I threw myself at Tyreese, not doing much other than surprising him, which Rick took full advantage of. He hit Tyreese hard, enough to make the guy fall down. Rick kicked him while on the ground and then starting beating Tyreese.

After a few really hard hits, the guy had had enough.

"Rick!" I yelled.

Carol was screaming too.

"Rick, stop, Jesus Christ!" I shouted. It wasnt helping. I grabbed Rick's arm and threw him off balance. I fell with him and crashed into the pavement.

Rick looked horrified.

Tyreese was on the ground, crying.

Carol was staring at us all, hands covering her mouth in a silent scream.

Rick's glazed eyes passed over me, on to his bloody hand. He stood, touched his hair in an unconscious gesture and left.

I wanted to follow him, but I figured Tyreese deserved the attention more than Rick.

I ended up leaving Tyreese in the very sympathetic and capable hands of Carol after we had brought him back to his cell. I could tell the poor guy was going to have some serious damage to his face. Insult to injury.

I headed off to find Rick. I couldn't blame him for finally breaking down. But, probably the wrong person to be taking it out on, and definitely at the worst moment.

I searched for thirty minutes before I found him. He was sitting against a wall, a blood trail caked down his face and a bandage he'd clearly done himself wrapped on his right hand. He didn't even look at me when I sat down in front of him.

I scooted up in between his knees and put my hand out to him, motioning that Id help him with his wrap.

I redid the whole thing, feeling him watching my face the entire time.

"I know I don't know you guys that well, but I can tell you're a good leader. I can tell how hard you've worked to keep everyone safe. You even took me in, when you didn't even know me. I can tell how much freaking work you've put into this prison to make it a home. But, you snapped. Theres no shame in that. It happens, trust me, I know. I do think you should apologize to that man. Hes having a much worse day than you are." I handed Rick his hand back.

I went back to the guard tower. When I got there, Maggie was there, hanging out with Glennn. I relieved them, purely because I wanted to be alone for a while and being that high up was nice therapy

I filled them in on what was going on.

They were both pretty concerned, they walked away talking about it together.

The zombie activity was high today. I sat with my legs dangling off the tower, worried about Rick. He seemed so strong, it was unsettling to watch him freak so badly. I knew I was capable of snapping like that, but its more difficult seeing someone else do it.

This dude with an eye path was most likely a fairly large factor though, to Rick's stress. Maggie had told me a few stories about this character the other night at dinner. He killed Michonne, the dread lock girl's best friend. She still went out and hunted him sometimes. Her trail mustve always come up cold though, because she never stayed out long. He had taken Glennn and Maggie, tortured both of them, hed had a meeting with Rick even, to try and work something out.

It made me wonder if the guy was nuts before the apocalypse, or if the apocalypse made him that way.

I guess the eye patch wasn't as funny as Id thought itd been. I could see how the guy could still be putting people on the edge. Hopefully the guy had died out there. Cold and alone, eye patch askew, his throat ripped out.

I made a mental note to pay attention to walkers with an eyepatch from now on.

Man, there was sure a ton of zombies against the fence right now. I decided to go make myself more useful and kill some of the stupid things. They were getting all pressed on the fence, caving it.

I reached the fence and started stabbing them methodically. And then I slipped on something. I fell on my tailbone, and felt a hand snatch out and grab my leg. One of the things on the fence had a grab of my ankle, tight. I kicked in, at its head, doing nothing but hitting the fence, I twisted around and grabbed the pike I'd been stabbing the zombies with, from where I'd dropped it. I stuck the one who had a hold on me in between the eyes. I stood, brushing gravel off my pants. Id cut up my hands from the fall pretty good. I rubbed them together, stinging still, and looked down to see what I'd slipped on. Half a dozen dead, chewed up rats were piled against the gates.

Who in the fuck?

Who would feed the damn walkers? That's just perfect though, because that has almost got to be whats causing the walker pile up.

Glennn was suddenly at my side. "Are you ok? I saw you fall." He had a piece of rebar in his hands and started helping with the pileup.

"Yeah I'm ok, but have you seen this?" I said, pointing to the rats.

He nodded, "Rick and everyone know. We don't know who is doing it though. It looks like its becoming a pretty serious problem." He said, surveying the walkers.

We had cleared up most of the fence before nightfall. With a little light left, I went to feed the animals. My tailbone was definitely bruised.

I hobbled back up across the prison yard into the courtyard area. Dinner was being prepared by a few volunteers. Tyreese, Carol and Rick were all absent. For curiosity's sake, I went to go sneak a peek at the crime scene. It looked exactly the same, but the two bodies had been covered with white sheets.

I went back out to eat something and brought my plate over next to Herschel.

"Grey!" He said, wiping off his mustache, "Howre you doing so far? You seem to be getting pretty comfortable with duties and even everyone else."

I was pretty thrilled someone had noticed. I had been trying extra hard to help out and I'd been really friendly with everyone, which was completely out of character for me.

"Thanks, Herschel, I like to think I'm doing well here, myself."

Herschel finished his last bite of potato and chewed thoughtfully. "You know Grey, youre doing a lot more good than I think you even realize. What you did today for Rick. I talked to him after you helped him with his wrap. Hes had a rough time for a long time. As a group, we've put a lot of stress on him and we owe him a great deal. He deserves some happiness."

I nodded, a little baffled.

Herschel stood up and grabbed his crutches. "Good night, Grey. And just, you know, be careful" He said significantly.

I sat there. Completely confused. Or- well, was I? Ok, I'd noticed it. Id noticed how Rick looked at me and I probably totally reciprocated it back. I hadn't been around a man I'd felt that comfortable with in a very long time. It felt nice.

And lets not pretend like I hadn't missed seeing him tonight.