When I sleep I can see the dark-haired man dying, over and over and over again. I can feel his hot blood running down my arm, I can feel his breath on the hand that I use to cover his mouth, but most of all I see his eyes - wide in shock. This time is different though - I stabbed his head, but he is still coming back. No matter how many times I try, the grunting from his mouth just keeps getting louder.

When I finally snap out of my dream I can hear a branch snapping and realize that the grunting did not come from my dream, but from a walker right in front of me. It is a tall one, and only five feet away from me. I was sitting down, leaning against a tree trunk when I fell asleep - I just wanted to take a quick break because I was physically incapable of moving any further, and apparently I woke up just in time.

I have just enough time to reach for my knife when it is already on me, trying to grab and trying to bite. I use my left arm to hold its head away and a shooting pain soars through my side. At this point, the walker is much stronger than I am, but somehow I still manage to drive my knife into its head just as it is about to bite my shoulder, and it collapses right on top of me.

I wince as I use my arms to try to push it off of me, and it takes three attempts to slip out from under it completely. I lean back against the tree, breathing hard, my heart hammering as if it were to explode in a second.

It has been three days since I was at the farm. When I saw the destruction I ran back into the forest immediately, knowing that I would be dead if even one of the walkers would notice be. I knew straight away there is no chance that any of my friends are still here if they are alive. I have been walking through the woods since, not knowing what to do or where to go. At this point I am sure that at least one of my wounds is infected, because I am getting weaker and weaker and I feel feverish. My food has been gone for three days, and yesterday I ran out of water.

As I am looking at the dead walker next to me a wave of desperation hits me. I am not deluding myself, if I don't find anyone who can help me, I will die. If I don't find water or food, I will die. As I look over to the dead walker next to me yet again, I think I also might not survive another attack. If I fall asleep again, there is a possibility that I will not wake up.

I close my eyes and can feel tears running down my face. I can't stop it and after a while my sobs are the only thing I can hear. This is the first time since the beginning that I don't have anywhere to go to, or even a slightest idea of what to do, so I curl up on the forest floor and lie there until my eyes stop tearing up.


When I finally manage to stop sobbing I carefully push myself up on my right arm and use the tree as an anchor to stabilize myself on my feet. I feel dizzy and tired, but I force myself to move. If I want to live, I need to find help or food or shelter. So I slowly start walking into a random direction, hoping I will find a street which I can use for orientation. At the moment, I am absolutely lost. It is not unlikely that I am in fact walking in circles.

I am not making great progress because I keep having to stop to catch my breath and hold onto a tree for support. I am just starting again when I hear voices. My eyes widen in fear, because my first thought is that the men from the town found me. I want to see who is talking before they see me. I crouch down behind a little bush to hide and try to suppress a groan as pain shoots through my left side.

The voices are coming nearer, and for the moment I cannot see anyone, only make out which direction they are coming from. I think there are two people. When they get nearer I can hear a man speaking, and my heart drops when I do not recognize the voice. I realize that even though I expected it to be the men from the town, I was hoping it would be Rick or Glenn, or anyone from my old camp. I close my eyes for a moment and try to suppress a new wave of desperation.

I am still hiding in my spot when I can hear the two pass closely in front of me. When they have passed and are heading further away in the other direction I lift my head up a little to try to get a look at them. For now, I can only see the man who is speaking, the other person is covered from my view. The one who is talking is tall and bald, and I can see a shotgun hanging loosely on his shoulder. Even from behind he looks intimidating.

When the second person steps into my field of view, I gasp. She has turned her back to me but I would notice that red jacket anywhere.

Raven.

It can't be, but it must, because everything about this woman looks like Raven - the height, the jacket, the dark hair held up in a ponytail. As far as I am concerned this must be a dream, or I have become so feverish that I have started hallucinating, but it all does not matter. I need to get her attention. I try to shout her name but it comes out as a raspy whisper.

"Raven!" I try again but it is still only hushed. They are walking further way, not hearing me, and I am starting to panic. Again, I use the tree next to me as support for getting up, and while I do so I finally manage to call her with an appropriate shout.

"Raven!"

I can see them stopping in their tracks, turning quickly. Both of them immediately have their guns up and pointing at me.

"Raven," I say again, this time quieter. It is her. It really is her. She looks at me in disbelief and I can see her lowering her gun, her eyes wide in surprise. "Raven," I say again, more to myself. I push myself off the tree and start to walk into her direction as fast as my body allows me to. At my movement she seems to finally snap out of her frozen shock, because she drops her gun and starts to run.

"Holy fucking shit!" she exclaims right before she reaches me and pulls me into her arms.

"You're alive," I say quietly as I am holding on to my best friend. Her familiar scent fills my nostrils, and her familiar laugh fills my ears as she holds me tight, and tears escape my eyes.

We finally pull away and look each other up and down.

"You're the best hallucination I ever had," I say with a small sob that is laughter at the same time.

Her face changes when she looks at my face. She reaches out and touches my hair carefully, looking at the clots of blood. I only now remember how I look.

"What happened to you?"

"That's a long story," I start, not having the energy to tell her. "I can't believe you're real," I add, pulling her in for another hug. I hold on to her almost desperately.

We are interrupted by Ravens companion clearing his throat.

"Who's your friend?" I ask.

"That's Lincoln," she tells me and then turns to him. "This is Zoey." He looks at me in surprise. "The Zoey?"

His comment puzzles me, but I am interrupted by Raven gasping. I turn my face back to her and she looks at me wide-eyed, like she forgot something.

"You have to come with us!" she says, takes my hand and starts pulling me away.

She almost breaks into a run a few times and I have to remind her more than once to please slow down so I can keep up. I am full of adrenaline, but I also stumble more than once, my limbs acting more on their own than on my command.

"Where are you staying?" I ask.

"We found a little cottage in the middle of this forest a few days ago, that's where we're staying at the moment. We lost our last place a few weeks ago."

"Same here," I say, and add "do you have any water on you?"

"No sorry, but we have some when we get there. We were just out to look for more food."

I nod and follow her. My throat is burning and my stomach has been cramping constantly for the last 24 hours. I try to push through the pain and the fever for now. Raven has not let go of my hand since we started walking, and I am grateful. For one, I only allow myself to believe she is real because I am touching her, but I am also afraid I might fall over if she wasn't holding on to me.

When we have walked for another five minutes we reach a small clearing and at the far side of it I can see a small cottage. It looks old but intact, actually a really sweet place. It is made entirely out of dark wood and has a big porch. When we start walking toward it Raven turns to Lincoln.

"Run ahead and get Bellamy."

My heart leaps at the mention of his name. What?

I stop dead in my tracks and look at her incredulously. Raven doesn't notice that I stopped, instead looks after Lincoln as he runs off, only turning to me when she realizes I dropped her hand.

"What?" I manage to say, my voice trembling.

She walks back to me and looks me in the eyes, her expression gentle. "He's alive. He's here."

I look over her shoulder at the cottage when I see movement. The door opens, and there he is.

Time around me seems to stand still and all I can see is him, standing on that porch. He is wearing army boots and black pants which are slightly ripped on his right knee. His shirt is dark and just tight enough to show a bit of what's underneath. I finally allow myself to look at his face. His features seem hardened, and it looks like there is a layer of dust on his skin, his freckles barely visible. His hair is longer than I remember, and extremely tousled from not grooming it properly. His eyes are dark and wide in surprise, and I can see his lips form my name.

"Oh my god.." I keep repeating the words as I start to walk into his direction - first slowly and then faster and faster, ignoring my rib, ignoring my cramps, ignoring everything. He reciprocates my movement and starts hurrying down from the porch in my direction. When he reaches me I put my hand on his chest and keep him at an arm's length, his chest hard under my fingers, my eyes taking him in, trying to convince myself that this really is Bellamy. My fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt, and with a quiet "You're alive" I finally pull him in for an embrace.

His arms are around me immediately, pulling me close, like they are holding on for dear life. His head buried in my neck, I can smell his familiar scent, feel his familiar grasp and it finally hits me: this is real. He is real. I can feel the tears starting to flow while he puts one of his hands in my hair, holding my head. He keeps repeating "you're alive", just as I have before, as if to convince himself.

He pulls his head back, just enough for me to find his lips with mine. The kiss is not long and passionate - it is short but full of emotion, of desperation and happiness, of assurance - a long wait finally over. When we break the kiss I rest my forehead against his, closing my eyes.

"I thought you were dead," I say desperately, tears still running down my face.

"So did I."

Eventually Bellamy breaks away and carefully places both of his hands on my face, inspecting my bruises. "Who did this to you?"

"Doesn't matter," I say and shake my head, breaking eye contact.

"Who did this?"

"It doesn't matter," I repeat and look back at him. "I just...I need to sit down. And I desperately need some water."


I lean on Bellamy as we walk toward the cottage, and when I get inside I realize that he was not the last surprise of the day. More of our friends made it here - Octavia is here, as well as Murphy, Monty and Finn. According to Bellamy even Clarke is here, but she is out with someone they met along the way. A lot of emotional hugs are exchanged, especially with Octavia.

"I cannot believe all of you are here," I say, feeling exhausted as I approach Finn who is the last one to greet. He comes to me with a big smile on his face and tries to pick me up as he hugs me, yet as soon as he pulls me close and my feet leave the floor I wince in pain - he pushed right on my cracked rib. He lets go immediately and steps back with an apologetic look on his face.

I hold my side and bend over forwards with a grunting noise, trying to push through the pain. "Never mind," I say through gritted teeth, trying to make a nonchalant 'all good' gesture toward Finn with my free hand. Bellamy is at my side immediately.

"What's wrong?"

"I need Clarke," I say hoarsely.

"Someone get Clarke, she went to the stream with Lexa," I hear him instructing.

Finn volunteers and leaves, while Bellamy helps me move over to a couch to sit down. "Someone get her some water."

I sit down and lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes. "Can I get a bit of food too?" I ask, and hear Bellamy's footsteps depart.

I only open my eyes again when I can feel someone sitting down next to me. "Here you go," Raven says as she hands me a bottle of water. I drink up thirstily and shortly after Bellamy returns with a can of food in his hands. Unfortunately, I don't even manage to eat half of the can when I hand it back.

"You have to eat more," he says.

"I haven't eaten properly in three weeks, if I eat more I'll throw it up again," I answer and lean my head back against the wall, eyes shut. I don't need to see him to know that he looks concerned.

A moment later I can hear the door opening and people coming in.

"Oh my god, Zoey!" Clarke's voice is unmistakable, and I slowly get up to greet her, smiling at her when she comes up to me. Her blonde hair hangs loosely over her shoulders, and she is wearing a denim jacket over a dirty white shirt. I give her a quick, careful hug before she turns to business, looking at the bruises on my face. I am impressed with how quickly she turns into the professional doctor. "Alright, let me have a look at this."

"That's actually not what I need you to look at," I start and take a step back to take off my jacket. I slowly open the zipper and then carefully use my right hand to free my arms from the sleeves, careful to not let my face show too much pain. This is the first time since the supermarket bathroom that I take off the jacket. My bandages and arms are covered with dried blood, but I can see that most of my cuts have stopped bleeding. Unfortunately, the bandage that I used to cover the big gash on my left arm is almost entirely red with fresh blood. I turn my glance away from my arm and look back at my friends. Clarke is eyeing me professionally - taking in the damage, but behind her I can see Raven covering her mouth with her hand and Bellamy looking overwhelmingly worried. I try to focus on Clarke. "I think it's infected," I say quietly, motioning to my bandage. "I have been feeling feverish the last couple of days."

"Alright, sit down," Clarke says.

"I'm going to lie down if you don't mind," I say, feeling dizzy, and move to lie down on the couch, the adrenaline slowly leaving my body. Clarke kneels down next to me and starts to carefully unwrap the bandage. Bellamy moves to the right end of the couch, standing next to my head.

"What happened?"

"Someone wanted to get information..I'll explain later."

We are silent for a minute, everyone focusing on Clarke. She finally manages to unwrap everything, and as she pulls the bloody bandage away her face drops, if only for a second.

"That bad, huh?" I try to sound casual, but I am scared to look.

"No, that's not it. I just...I need to clean it. Someone get me some water and a cloth!" she says, and I can tell that it is worse than she is trying to let on. After a moment Octavia hands her a bottle of water and a small towel, and I am closing my eyes again because I am becoming more and more sleepy.

"Alright, I need two people to go back to the stream and get more water. I'll need a lot to clean all of her wounds. Someone else go and find me some alcohol or anything that works as a disinfectant," Clarke instructs and I can hear two or three people walking away, following her orders.

"Alright Zoey, this is going to hurt," she says and I wince when I feel a sudden flash of pain on my left arm. The other thing I feel is much more gentle; a hand is slowly caressing my head and I know that it is Bellamy. I try to concentrate on him as I drift away further.

"Zoey, I need you to stay awake!" is the last thing I hear before I pass out.