Authors note: it's been a really long time, so you will have to bear with me, I'm just getting back into this. I'm also currently working on my own novel to be sent to publishing so it may be a little while between updates. My promise is I will try and be frequent though.

Also this doesn't quite marry up with the timeline on the show so if it deviates a lot then forgive me, it's an alternative scenario

Thanks to everyone who has commented, followed and added to their favourites. I can't tell you how grateful I am.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 4

Everyone was scattered around the church digging in to assorted cans of food and drinks. Rick seemed to be relatively happy to let everyone be for the time being. Dean had agreed to stay the night and hadn't received much of argument from the other two. Zoe sat by the front door of the church, her back pressed against the cool wall as she watched the rest of the group chattering away animatedly.

"How's your hands?" Daryl's voice was gentle, his face half covered by shadow as he came to join her on the edge of the candle light, his hands resting on his bent up knees.

"Much better," she purposefully slid them underneath her crossed legs, she didn't want to answer his question as to why she didn't have any marks or wounds, "thank you for helping me."

He let his head fall back and rest against the wall, "don't mention it."

Zoe took a moment to study him, the tired lines showing on his skin, the weathered dark circles underneath his guarded blue eyes. She couldn't help but glance down to his tattered clothes, the exposed, taut flesh across his biceps, the dirt that shaded his bare arms and gave him a real gritty, dirty sort of look. Somewhere between the blood splatters on his boots and the neat scrawled tattoo on his arm Zoe seemed to trigger a very hazy memory she had since forgotten.
"Do I," she paused, her eyes searching the man's face, "do I know you from somewhere?"

His eyebrow raised slightly, an incredulous look on his heavy features, "no."

Zoe adjusted herself where she sat, her eyes trailing back to the rest of the group.

"When you said you'd seen your fair share of weird stuff, what did you mean?"

Daryl's eyebrows narrowed a little, he hadn't shared his experiences from his life with anyone. Merle had been with him for some of the things he had seen but even then his older brother passed them off as being nothing more than drunken encounters.

"Nothing," he replied with a shrug, though the look on Zoe's face told him she didn't believe him.

There was something in the way Zoe moved that had sparked Daryl's intrigue to start with. She had a fierceness in her eyes despite the exhaustion that was written all over her body. Something about the way she was with the two brothers made him curious as well. Family had never really been something Daryl knew, Merle and he had a strained relationship; the only thing they had ever shared was alcohol. Even then it was more of a fight to get to the booze first.

"What weird stuff have you seen?"

Enormous ocean blue eyes met his in the dark, Zoe's expression unreadable but her body tensing in a way that piqued Daryl's curiosity and interest.

"A lot more than she should have," Dean was sitting on one of the pews in front of them, his eyes glancing between them both before settling on Zoe. The young girl glanced down at the half finished can at her feet before looking up from under her eyelashes at Dean.

"Nothing more than I can handle though."

A fleeting smile broke over Dean's stern features as he relaxed back into the uncomfortable wooden bench, "that is true."

Daryl was about to say something when he noticed Carol missing from the group, his eyes darting around the room manically before he stood up abruptly, mumbled a quick 'sorry' and then left. Dean leaned forwards, his elbows resting on his knees.

"You didn't eat much," he noted, looking at her half-finished can.

The young girl shook her head, her eyes matching the eldest Winchester's before letting her head fall back against the wall. Dean let his breath seep out between his teeth before running a hand absently through his hair; something was weighing him down, something that he didn't seem willing to share.

Before either of them could address the awkward pause though Sam was already taking a seat next to Zoe, his hazel eyes filled with the sadly familiar puppy dog type sadness.

"What happens after we get you to DC?" Zoe rolled her head to the side and studied her friend for a moment.

"Is this what's been bothering you guys?" she glanced up to Dean as he dug his fingers into the back of his neck and let his head hang forwards. Sam simply gave her a half-hearted shrug and leaned his head back to rest against the wall.

"Zoe, we've been through a lot together, hell, blood thirsty monsters, apocalypses and all kinds of supernatural bullshit," Dean raised his head, eyes meeting his brothers before falling on Zoe, "so be honest with us. What happens after DC, after you do whatever it is you need to do?"

Two pairs of heavy eyes fell on Zoe, looks so full of emotion that for a split second she didn't want to tell them didn't want to be the one that destroyed everything they were clinging to.

"Everything resets," she sat forwards her elbows resting on her knees; "people get to start over."

"Start over?" Sam's voice was strained, "what do you mean?"

The reality of it was Zoe didn't quite know how it worked after DC. She knew she had to put an end to everything but from that point on she didn't know what was meant to happen. Not that it mattered much to her, she wasn't going to be there to see the aftermath.

Her blue eyes met Sam's in the half light, a thin watery film blurring her vision, "it means you get the chance to live. It means that for all those times you saved me, for all the trips to Hell and back, for everything that has happened to us, you guys get the chance to keep going. Keep saving people. Keep…"

The words seemed to get caught in the back of her throat, a horrific searing pain surging up through her arm and exploding into her chest.

"Zoe?" Sam turned to face the woman beside him just as she clenched her arm to her stomach and fell forwards, her forehead resting against the floor.

"Zoe!" She was vaguely aware of Dean's arms on her shoulders but for the life of her she couldn't manage to do anything other than writhe in pain. Her eyes squeezed closed as she tried desperately to breathe through the searing in her arm.

"What the Hell is happening?" Sam hissed at his brother, his hands feebly pulling her hair back from her face and tears streamed down her pale cheeks.

Just as quickly as it had started the pain seemed to subside, the aching going from excruciating to bearable. Slowly, she lifted her head from the ground, red spots dotting her vision and her skin shimmering with a mixture of sweat and tears. Dean lifted her chin softly, his hands wiping the stray strands of hair from her face as he carefully checked her for any injuries.

"Dean," Sam's voice was soft, yet both Zoe and Dean had heard that tone enough to note that it was laced with concern and utter panic. Dean's green eyes followed his brother's gaze down to Zoe's slender forearm, a stream of blood trickling down across her wrist and into her hand.

"What the…" he carefully took hold of her hand and despite her wincing straightened out her bent elbow so he could see where the blood was streaming from. Clear as day, scrawled across her skin, as if an amateur had carved into it with a blunt knife were the words, 'you can't hide forever.' Dean's eyes met Sam's an unspoken look of dread passing between them.

"Zoe," Sam ducked his head slightly so he his eyes met hers dead on, her face a horrible shade of grey, "what aren't you telling us?"