"So, you'll never believe it, but…" Jackson trailed off again, biting his lip and staring at the sky. I waited patiently for him to get back on track.

"Sorry," He apologized once his attention snapped back to me. He fingered the stem of a dandelion he plucked along the side of the road. "I get distracted sometimes."

"That's alright." I assured him, twirling the oozing stems into a weaving pattern to create a makeshift flower crown. It was turning out lopsided and loose, but as my first attempt with a lack of instructions, I figured it looked rather royal.

"Anyway, do you… still have it?" Jackson shifted so he was looking towards me instead of the forest. We had stopped, after fourteen hours of driving, on another roadside. But this time, it was an actual rest stop, or used to be. Jackson and I sat at one of the picnic tables positioned on the murky grass. Thankfully, Rick and his group were more accepting towards Jackson than they were me at first, but they seemed to still be walking on thin ice around him, even though he posed no threat. I understood that motive nonetheless.

"I do." I needed no verification to his vague question and pulled my bag up beside me, plopping it on the faded green bench. I unzipped the inside pocket and reached inside, pulling out a tether necklace with an aluminium dog-tag attached roughly. The tag had suffered a little wear-and-tear and the letters were a bit botched, but it was still the same as ever.

"You do…" Jackson confirmed. He pulled back his sleeve and showed me his own plate, tied upon a bracelet chain for his. Our own sort of friendship jewelry, in the form of a quote from our favourite T.V. show before all of this. But, then again, the etched letters spelling out "Four days 'till the lights go out" on both of ours seemed rather fitting to our situation now more than ever. Jackson saw it too and smiled warmly at me.

"Really seems like a hell on earth, doesn't it?" I asked, abandoning my ugly crown and pushing it off the table. Jackson nodded gravely, glancing down at his hands.

"We're still here, though. Still alive, even after all this. And…" He leaned on his arms on the table, letting out a soft sigh. "Together again. I mean, we thought we'd never see each other again, right?"

"Right." I agreed briefly, sudden flashbacks of that night bursting through my mind like firecrackers exploding into a whole barrage of colours in the dark sky.

Close to about two years ago, Jackson and I had been in a group with about four of our other friends. Raven, Kian, Amythyst, and Jessie. Of course, being fourteen/thirteen year olds with no sort of leadership system took a massive toll on our ragtag group of survivors, and it was a wonder we didn't fall apart in the two years we were together. Our group used to be larger, with some of our parents and even a few strays we picked up, but one bad accident in a college dorm we holed up in and our numbers deteriorated to just us six. Still, we made it work.

Then, after about three weeks straight of traveling, trying to get to somewhere far enough away to get at least a little bit of quiet, disaster struck. We were all half-starved, none of us knew how to drive through all the rubble, so we had to walk everywhere (not that there was any hope of us finding a vehicle with enough fuel, anyway). We'd been going down a highway, on foot still, around seven-thirty when Amythyst and Raven began arguing.

I don't remember what it was about. It was something petty, something utterly foolish, but the sharp feelings in our stomachs made our tones even sharper, and even with Jackson and I assuming the roles as leaders, there still wasn't high hopes for any shelter being found, nor food. Two days trekking on practically empty stomachs did not improve moods, and Amythyst and Raven were holding us up even more by literally stopping the group in the middle of the road to bicker.

From then on, it was a house divided. Kian and Jessie agreed with Amythyst, and Jackson and I just wanted it to be over, as did Raven. But Raven nor Jackson were the type to forgive, and I couldn't say I wasn't stubborn myself. We kept going, but only at the extent of grasping the pipe dream of finding a safe spot to stay for at least a while, until this argument blew over.

Thankfully, after four days of surviving on berries and nuts (and a few squirrels and/or rabbits Jackson and Jessie managed to bag), we found a small village. I don't remember the name of it, but it was definitely a back-woods hillbilly town. A couple dead biters and the clearing out of a grocery store later, we had decided that we'd stay. For the time being.

We found a little clothing store on the corner of a street, bordering the edge of the town. It was cozy, but a little too cozy for six people that were constantly on edge. I was sick of it, and it seemed like Jessie was too. But, neither of us could convince the others to stop arguing. So, we stupidly kept to ourselves.

One night, our quarreling got really bad. Somebody started it and… it ended badly. Two hours of muttered insults under breath, angry remarks, and blatant hatred towards each other. Amythyst went over the line. She said something so bitter and cruel to Raven that she just…

A half-second draw, a single squeezed off shot, and everyone went mad. Amythyst dropped like a brick thrown from a five-story window and blood spattered Kian, who was standing behind her. Kian was always the most rational out of all of us, but in his state of shock, he lunged for Raven. I was standing just beside her. Jackson should've helped her, but he grabbed me instead. And we ran.

As you can guess, an unsilenced shot in a biter-infested neighborhood is like ringing the dinner bell for starving orphans. Wide-eyed and feeding on our adrenaline, Jackson led me through the streets. His head was clear. Mine wasn't. The shot still rang in my ears and my eyes were fogged by the blinding light that wasn't there.

We could still hear the screams of our friends. Jackson stopped me in the first clear area that we found, turned towards me, and hastily said:

"Take this, and run. I'll meet up with you once I help them. Keep going west."

That was all, and he was gone. I stared at the sheathed kitchen knife he had pressed into my hand for a good two minutes until I heard the growls drawing in on my heels. I should've gone back, I should've helped Jackson, but I just kept running. Nobody considered the fact that a teenage girl who just watched her friend get shot wouldn't know west from north.

I didn't see Jackson for a good long while, as you might have guessed. I thought he was dead, but I never dwelled on it. Staring at him now, sitting in front of me, alive, made something burst to life in front of me. A tiny bit of fear that had planted itself in the back of my brain was cast into the light, where before it hung back, shrouding itself in darkness in order to remain in my head.

"I'm glad you're alive." The sincerity in my voice surprised even me. Jackson almost blushed, his nail digging into the dandelion head.

"I'm glad you are, too."

Our moment was cut short by Maggie tapping on our table to get our attention. We both glanced up simultaneously, and she nodded towards the cars. "Saddle up."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

The car ride through the rural parts of Georgia was bumpy and uncomfortable, but now I had a friend to join me in the back of the car. Sasha had decided to ride with us this time, so she took the seat where I sat before (next to Rosita), since I said I could sit in the very back just fine. Jackson offered to ride with me, so here we are.

Another crack in the asphalt sent our playing cards sliding. Jackson shuffled them back into place, then rolled his eyes and shoved them back into the battered, plastic-coated and peeling box. I huffed in boredom and turned to stare out the thin windows while Jackson laid down on the carpeted floor. Trees, trees, and more trees blurred together as we sped by, following the lead of Rick's car. Turning around, I saw that Abraham's car and Daryl on his motorcycle were in careful pursuit, only going as fast as we did. Nothing interesting caught my eye, save a few rambunctious biters, so I flumped back down.

Jackson had his eyes closed and hood drawn over his face, blocking out the light. It was late afternoon and the sunlight was strong and cold. I'd found a leather jacket just about my size in one of the cars, overturned, at the rest stop. It was a good fit and kept the heat in, and it seemed like real leather-something a biter couldn't claw or gnaw their way through easily.

Tara turned around in the passenger seat from where she was talking softly with Michonne. "You guys holding up okay back there?"

Sasha and Rosita exchanged a glance before nodding. I looked down at Jackson, who had pulled up part of his hood and opened one eye to see me. He held up his hand in an "okay" gesture. I gave Tara a thumbs-up and the most of a smile I could muster up.

Tara turned back around. I glanced out the window once more, only to see Abraham run over half of a still-moving biter. I held back a giggle and lay down beside Jackson. I studied him, and for some reason unknown even to myself, I began to compare him and Carl.

Almost as soon as I began, I shook off the thought. Jackson was my friend, nothing more. No matter how much I liked teasing Carl, I would have to be loyal to him.

I lay there until I felt drowsy, all the time I'd spent alone with Carl replaying like a movie behind my eyelids. When we first met, the library, when we went scavenging, ect. I smiled sleepily and curled up on my side, the bumps and dips of the unstable roads now soothing me to sleep like a crash-test dummy's lullaby.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

"Danny!" Jackson's harsh whisper accompanied his elbow as he jutted me awake. I snorted unceremoniously and rubbed my eyes, hoisting myself up extra-slow just to annoy Jackson. He was clearly feeling urgent about something, but seeing as we weren't moving anymore, I couldn't guess what.

"Whaddaya want?" I grumbled, upset at being awoken so early when I'd hardly gotten any sleep the night before. I ran my fingers through my hair and opened my eyes, seeing Jackson with an astonished look on his face as he pointed out the back window.

"What?" I asked irritably. His face drew up into a smile as he turned to stare out the window, expecting me to as well. I huffed and followed his gaze.

It was fixed on Daryl, who was talking to Carol. Or, Carol was attempting to make small talk and Daryl was apparently giving her short, abrupt answers, as he usually did. But, they were practically best friends, and it seemed like Carol was the only one besides Rick who could really get through Daryl's protective screen to him.

"I don't get it." I turned back to Jackson, puzzled. He had his hands bunched up around his mouth with a dumb grin on his face. I recognized that expression.

"Who's that?" His voice was excitedly high. I chuckled a little bit and glanced back at Daryl once more.

"That's Daryl Dixon. He's the hunter of the group, per-say. Mostly because he's a redneck and uses a crossbow, which is quieter and cleaner than a gun." I explained simply, rubbing the last bit of sleep from my eyes, my irritability with Jackson melting away. He was clearly developing a puppy-love sort of crush here.

While Jackson made a soft squee-ing sound, I gazed around the car. Michonne was staring at a roadmap in the front seat, tracing her finger along one of the lines. Rosita and Tara were unmistakably absent, and Sasha was keeping watch outside of the car, leaning against the passenger-side window with her rifle slung over her shoulder.

Over the past few weeks, I had come to respect Sasha. She might be a lone wolf most of the time, but she got things done correctly the first time and didn't expect anyone to clean up after her. Basically, Sasha didn't seem to need anybody else to survive. How I saw it, anyway, she was just doing this group a service by staying on to protect anyone who needed it.

"Hey, Jackson?" I turned back to him. His gaze snapped from the window over to me.

"Yeah?" Jackson brushed hair out of his eyes. I peered out towards Sasha, noticing the dried blood along her sleeve and fresher crimson bordering it. I knew, if she'd gotten hurt, she would keep it a secret.

"Can I borrow some of your binding bandages for a little bit?" Jackson made a slightly offended noise, then shrugged, as if to say 'Fair enough'. Then, after a few seconds of him rummaging around in his bag, he tossed a bundle of fresh bandages into my lap.

"Thanks." I spun back to him before climbing over the seat to get out. "And, by the way, you should just find a sports bra or something. It's not good to do so much activity in binds like this."

Before he could get a word in, I crawled over the seat and shoved open the door. Michonne glanced my way, but looked back down after I waved. Sasha, however, ignored my presence until I walked directly in front of her.

"Sasha?" She glanced down at me briefly. I offered her the bandages silently, and her face scrunched up. When it looked like she was going to protest, she finally looked at her arm, sighed, and took the bandages from me.

"Thank you." Sasha nodded slightly in appreciation, peeling back her sleeve to reveal a jagged cut, half scabbed over. I didn't look that long and hurried back towards the car.

Before I got in, however, a strike of swift movement caught my eye. I turned back to see Carl glance around before waving me over to him. I peered in the window to see Jackson's eyes trained on Daryl, who was looking through one of his saddlebags. Deciding it was safe enough, I made my way over to Carl as unsuspiciously as I could.
"What's up?" I asked casually when I approached him. Carl tipped his hat back a little bit to make eye contact with me. I gave him a two-fingered wave and a half weirded-out expression while glancing to the side.

"Are… you okay?" When he didn't respond, I felt a little worried. His face didn't portray any biased feelings, however, and his expression stayed rather calm.

"Carl, did you just wave me over here to stare at me, or…?" I had to admit, his silence confused me. A lot.

"I didn't. I wanted to ask you something." He finally says, his pretty gunmetal blue eyes gazing deep into mine. I felt slightly uncomfortable with all his focus centered on me.

"What's the matter?" I shifted with my hand on my hip, trying to show that I wasn't intimidated by his stare, even though I actually was.

"You and Jackson," Straight to the point, isn't he? "What's the story between…you two?"

I was taken aback by how hostile he sounded, but at this point, he had a right to be. I glanced at the ground and adjusted my hat sheepishly. "We're just friends, I swear. Always have been, always will be."

"Really?" This was a rhetorical question, I could tell by the tone of his voice. Carl was no doubt upset. "Why're you always around him, then? Ever since you brought him back here, you've been following him around like a leashed puppy."

"Sorry…" My voice came out meekly. I began to run my fingers through the same strand of hair repeatedly. "I know. I've been an idiot for a few days, I was just excited to see him again. You know?"

"I know." He sighed, looking around as if there was something else he could focus his attention on. "Do you even like me?"

"What?" My gaze shot up at him from where my boot was scuffling rocks around on the asphalt. "Why would you say-"

He cut me off, shaking his head. "No, Danny. I have to know right now."

"Of course I do!" My reassurance fell deaf to him. Carl let out an annoyed sigh and set his jaw, making eye contact with me again.

"No, you're saying what you think I want to hear. I'll ask you again, Do you actually like me?" Carl spoke more forcefully this time, his gaze as intense as his words. I met his eyes confidently.

"Carl, I really do like you. Just think back to… about… a week ago. Do you think I would've actually followed you if I didn't like, or even trust, you?" I hoped he believed me this time.

When he only gave me a doubtful expression, I stepped closer. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching us; nobody was. Everyone was occupied.

I wrapped my arms around Carl comfortingly. He tensed up at first, but he relaxed when I rested my head against his shoulder. He even went so far as to set his hands on my hips.

"I love you." I whispered softly. I glanced up to see Carl staring down at me with a half-confused, half-surprised expression. I gave him a gentle smile and pecked his jawbone before untangling myself from the hug.

Just in time, too. Daryl whistled at us barely a few seconds after we stepped away from each other. He motioned for us to get back to the cars, that our little break was over. I grinned at Carl and waved, setting off towards my car.

"Wait, Danny!" He called after me. I heard his footsteps along the road, and Carl grabbed onto my wrist. I turned back.

"I love you too." Without even checking to see if anyone was watching, he pecked my cheek lightly. My entire face turned pink as he let go. When I glanced back, he was gone already. I hurried back to the car, trying to ignore the fact that there was a tiny whisper in my head stating, "his ass is nice".

"What's up with you?" Jackson asked in amusement when I climbed over the seats into the back. My pink blush darkened.

"Carl?" He guessed, looking a little satisfied with himself. I nodded.

"I swear, you two are fuckin' meant to be."

"Shut the fuck up."