Rick and Carl quickly went over to help Harley, lifting her up and putting her on the couch.

"Harley," Rick said, seeing if she would respond. Nothing. He called her name again, still nothing. He checked picked up her hand to check for a pulse. When he found it, he placed her hand down and put his hand to her forehead.

"She's burning up," Rick said to Carl. "What do we do?" Carl asked, concerned. Rick thought for a minute before going into her bag and grabbing the water bottle. He looked through the rooms, searching for any kind of towel or fabric. He found a small hand towel and poured the water on it, hoping it would be cold enough to cool her head off.

He walked over to her and placed it on her forehead. She made a movement and a small moaning noise but didn't wake up. He began shaking his head, "the heat's going right through it." He went to grab it again to let the air cool it off, when she yelled "no!" and grabbed his arm, breathing heavily.

"Rick?" she let go quickly, "I'm so sorry," she seemed like she was fading again.

"Harley, stay with us," Rick said as she closed her eyes. She moaned. "My leg," she managed to get out before passing out again. Rick looked to the bloody fabric around her leg and untied it. The wound was even worse than before.

"It's infected," Rick looked closer, "badly."

"We have to do something," Carl said.

"There's nothing we can do," Rick told him.

"You're gonna let her die?" anger began to rise in Carl.

"The only way we can help her is if we have medication. The nearest pharmacy was more than three miles away. We can't risk it."

"We can't just let her die. She would do this for us, I know she would," Carl really didn't know. For some reason he felt the need to help the girl since she helped him out. "Please."

Rick sighed, pulling his fingers through his hair. "Look in the medicine cabinets for any medication you can find," he ordered. Carl quickly ran to the bathroom. He opened up the mirror above the sink, scattering the things on the shelves, looking for any bottle or box of medicine he can find. There was a small box of Ibuprofen and he grabbed it, hoping it would be of use. He ran it back to Rick and handed it to him.

Rick looked at it, "this will have to do for now." He opened the box and pulled out a blister pack, pushing six pills out into his palm. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl and spoon, crushing the pills into a coarse powder. He walked back to the couch and poured the powder into the remaining water in her bottle, closing it and shaking it.

He felt nervous for the first time in a long time. He didn't think he could feel nervous again, being immune to the bullshit around him. He wasn't used to playing doctor. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't want to let his son down again, or maybe it's that he actually thought the girl was pretty. That was something he put into the back of his mind and denied.

He was about to attempt pouring the water into her mouth, when she began to whimper. "No," she cried, "no, please." Sweat began to form on her head. She breathed heavily, her chest rising and falling noticeably. He noticed the bandana around her bicep loosen as her body jerked. It moved from her skin, revealing a rather large jagged and circular scar.

"Did she mention being bit?" Rick asked Carl.

"No, why?" he came over and saw the scar as well. Rick thought back of all the times he's seen people get bit, "it couldn't have been from a walker." They'd either die slowly from a bacterial infection, or in a lucky case, get their limb chopped and recover. She has her limb intact and if she had any type of infection from the bite, it didn't kill her.

Suddenly her torso flew up, her eyes opened wide and she was breathing in and out heavily. She looked around frantically.

"You're alright," Rick said, walking towards her. She rubbed her eyes, steadying her breathing. She let out a small whimper and tears fell as she shivered. She hugged her arms around herself and let her head hang down.

"Here, drink this," Rick handed her the bottle and she grabbed it, her body shaking. She looked at it, "what's in it?"

"Just drink it, it'll help your fever and pain," he insisted. Rick turned to Carl and mouthed something to him. Carl walked away, coming back shortly with the sheet she used to sleep with. She downed the water and her breath quivered as she dropped the empty bottle to the floor beside her.

"Thank you, Carl," she gave a small smile as she took the sheet from him and wrapped herself in it. She had dark circles under her eyes and her face was pale. Tears streamed down her face as she looked into oblivion.

"Your wound, it's infected," Rick said to her, "that's what's making you sick." She began to laugh and shake her head. "Whatta ya know? A stick is going to be the death of me. I'd rather be killed from a stupid cut than one of those flesh eaters anyway."

"You're not gonna die. I'm going on a run for stronger medicine," Rick surprised her. Did he just say he was going on a run to get medicine? For her? It couldn't have been no more than an hour ago that he was interrogating her.

"I can't let you do that," she said.

"You don't really have a choice."

She looked down, not sure what to say. Should she thank him? Maybe it's too early for that. She noticed her bandana on the floor. She swallowed, leaning over to pick it up. She looked at Rick, who was looking at her. "You saw."

"What bit you?" he asked. She was quiet for a moment, looking at the dirty bandana. "A walker."

"That's not possible. You should be dead," his tone was more aggressive.

"Yeah, well, I'm not," she spat back. "Are you going to keep prying into my life? What about yours? How many walkers have you killed? How many people have you killed? For all I know, you've killed a ton of people. How do I know you're not going to kill me? You know, you're not the only one going through this shit. I'm trying to survive too. People I love have died in front of me, in my arms even. People have tried to steal my things, people have beat me up just to get them. Men have- No, I'm done answering to you." She got up, stumbling to the floor. She tried to stand, Rick coming over to help her. She shoved him off, "no, I'm leaving."

"You're not leaving, you won't even make it down the road." He tried to help her again, only to be pushed away. She stood, pain shooting through her leg and she felt dizzy. Everything around her was spinning and she couldn't keep her balance, almost falling, but Rick caught her before she could fall to the ground. "You're not leaving," he said to her again, lifting her up. Her hand grasped his shirt and her head fell to his chest. She listened to the beating of his heart against her ear as he carried her into the bedroom.

He gently placed her on the bed, looking at her face as he did so. He felt a sudden strangeness, watching this girl in such a fragile state. He keeps his guard up, but he can see it in this girl's eyes that she's not out to harm him or Carl. He can see that she's gone through so much, maybe just as much as him, and still has kept her will to survive.

When he lifted up after putting her down, she still had a grip on his shirt. He swallowed, looking at her. Her grip released as she lost consciousness. Rick watched her for a bit longer, grabbing the sheet from the couch and bringing it to her, placing it over her.

He walked out of the room with a new determination. "Keep an eye on her while I'm out," he patted himself, making sure he had his gun and weapons until he came to her knife that he attached to his pants. He took it off and handed it to Carl, "give it to her if she wakes up."

"I thought you wanted to hold onto it?" Carl was confused by his father's sudden change of heart.

"You two should have a weapon while I'm gone." He grabbed a bag and hugged Carl before he left to get medicine.


Hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought - leave a review and I will post up another chapter sooner rather than later. Follow/ Favorite if you'd like.