A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates. Life's getting crazy. I appreciate all of the support and kind words! We're on the downward slope. I hope you enjoy!

The air was full of the smell of death. It hung heavily, saturating everything. Andrea took a reluctant, shaky breath, forcing it out of her lungs quickly. The Prison had never been pretty, but it was a ghost town now. Walkers milled around in endless circles, searching for prey that had long since fled. There was no one living in 10 miles of here.

Except for the two of them.

Andrea glanced at the passenger in the car with her. He was asleep, his face bruised and bandaged. The glass was still there, protruding like some kind of grotesque flag pole from his eye. The sight of it turned her stomach.

She eased the car in under the cover of night, headlights off. She didn't know what drew her back to this place. It was a miracle they hadn't been found yet. Daryl, if he was still alive, was sure to be on her tail. The Prison was the only place she thought he might not search for her.

The walkers swarmed the car but she kept the vehicle moving, her eyes forward. There were medical supplies inside. They desperately needed them. Then they could hit the road, drive as far as the gas would take them. They could get away from the Haven. Away from here.

She pulled into the lot still littered with empty cars, leaving Phillip locked inside. Gun in hand, she forced her way inside, down darkened and blood-stained hallways. She intended to head to the infirmary, to get what they needed and go. Instead, she found herself walking in the opposite direction, towards the office she'd found them all in. Adrenaline and fear had fueled her that day. Now, she needed to see for herself.

The door was shattered, splintering around the lock. Someone had put their foot through it. Andrea stepped through, fumbling for the light switch. The generators blessedly worked. She took the risk, bathing the room in a sterile, fluorescent light.

She saw the dead walker child first. She was covered in flies, the pink of her dress a stark contrast to the rest of her. Andrea turned, emptying the contents of her stomach into the corner. She hurried past it, covering her mouth. The stench was overwhelming here. She fumbled for a light switch in the adjoining room. Her resulting scream echoed despite being muffled by her hand.

Heads. There were heads all over the ground. She jerked her foot back as one snapped at her, rushing back towards the dead girl and out of the shattered door, her heart racing.

"Andrea?" Phillip's voice caused her head to snap around. She saw him silhouetted in the darkness, making his way towards her. She hurried away from the room.

"Phillip!" her voice shook around his name. He came to a stop in front of her, glancing down with concern.

"You screamed," he said, reaching for her.

Andrea stilled her body with difficulty. "It was just a walker. I took care of it."

He stared at her, his good eye boring into her. Andrea kept her gaze on his with difficulty. She trembled, shaking against her will, withering under his gaze.

"All right," he said at last, his voice gentle. He reached out to touch her face. She swallowed thickly. "I haven't thanked you," Phillip continued. "You saved my life."

"Of course," Andrea hoped her smile didn't look as forced as it felt.

"Once I'm all patched up, I'm returning the favor," he grinned broadly at her. It looked sinister in the low light with half of his face shrouded. "We're going to find the survivors. We'll rebuild."

"Survivors?" there was no sign anyone had made it out.

"Rick, he took prisoners. I saw it before he and his wife mutilated me," Phillips face creased, anger coloring his features. "We need to save them."

"I'm sure they're safe," Andrea ventured, her trembling increasing.

"With a monster like Rick Grimes?" Phillip scoffed. "He attacked us. Tried to kill me. Hell, he swung a machete at you!"

Andrea took a step back, but stilled herself. "How did he find us?" she asked, a thought occurring to her.

"What?" Phillip paused, his good eye darting to her.

"Rick," Andrea calmed herself. "How did he find us? No one in the Haven knew we were here."

"He must have stumbled on us on one of the runs you told me about. Maybe they're out of supplies. They needed to steal from us," Phillip gained steam as he talked.

"It's too bad that Shane wasn't here," the idea formed in her mind, distrust rising rapidly. "He would have been an asset in a fight."

"Who knows?" Phillip didn't miss a beat. "Maybe Rick is the reason Shane disappeared. I wouldn't put it past him."

"Ok," she quickly agreed, even as bile rose again in her stomach. "Let's get you patched up," she reached for his hand, grasping it tightly.

"You're with me, right?" he queried.

"Of course," Andrea smiled serenely, pushing her fear down beneath the surface.

-l-l-l-l-

"Both fences are up. We reinforced the eastern and western walls and we're adding a lookout to the south. I'm worried about those trees creeping around. Makes it difficult to see." T-Dog listed, pointing in each direction.

"Ok," Michonne scanned the work in progress. "We'll send a team out to cut back some of the ones that have gotten too close. Groups of five, three to work, two to guard. No one goes out alone."

"All right," T-Dog nodded at her, looking pleased.

"Sasha is standing guard with her gun. She should be able to hit anything from the tower. Still, we're down Maggie, Glenn, and Daryl, so we need to be vigilant. I'll take first shift." Michonne clutched her gun, hiking it onto her shoulder. The pain was receding, but she was still sore.

"Should you be handling that?" T-Dog's eyes flicked down to her stomach.

"Rick told you?" she asked, biting back a sigh.

T-Dog shrugged. "I've only seen him stressed like this once before. Carl popped out a few months later."

Michonne smiled despite her annoyance. "I'll be fine," she assured him.

"I know you will," T-Dog grinned back at her. "But let the record show I asked in case your man comes raging around here. You know how he gets."

Michonne shook her head. She did know, all too well. "Where is he?" she asked.

"South side, fixing the wall," T-Dog reported.

Michonne swore. He was supposed to be taking it easy. "Ok, I'm going to go talk to him."

T-Dog whistled, his hands up in surrender. "You didn't hear it from me," he said.

Michonne offered him a hug, glancing down at his injured leg. "Take it easy today," she instructed. They all needed to heal.

"Yes ma'am," he complied at once, sitting down under the shade of one the Haven's fruit trees. Michonne left him, heading quickly for the southern wall.

Rick wasn't alone. Half a dozen men were hard at work, reinforcing the wall. Rick was knee-deep in the thick of it. Michonne paused, watching him sling supplies around as though he wasn't hurt. She was impressed despite herself.

"Rick," she called to him. He paused, looking up at her like a deer caught in the headlights. She shot him a knowing look.

"Ohhhhh..." Tyrese teased from behind him. Rick shoved him playfully.

"Be right back," Rick told him.

Tyrese hummed skeptically. "Sure," he laughed, returning to his work. "I'll make sure we finish this up today."

Michonne thanked him, waiting patiently for her husband to join her. "Rick," she began admonishingly.

"Michonne," he returned, looking knowingly at her gun.

They both stared at one another. "We're supposed to be healing," Michonne laughed lightly.

"We'll go to bed early," Rick kissed her. His skin was warm and sweat-slicked from his work. Michonne pulled him into a hug nonetheless.

"Home for dinner?" she asked, toying with his curls.

"I'll see you there," he tapped her gun. "Be careful."

"You too. Let Tyrese lift the heavy stuff. I'll see you if you don't," she kissed his cheek, stroking his hair once for good measure before moving off. She could feel his eyes on her as she made her way to the tower.

Sasha was stationed there, her eyes out on the horizon, her gun in position. She nodded at Michonne as she took her place beside her.

"How's it looking?" Michonne asked.

"Quiet," Sasha answered. "For now."

Michonne exhaled, raising her own weapon. "It's going to be soon," she said.

"I hope so," Sasha's eyes danced to Michonne then back out.

"Me too," Michonne wanted this over, wanted her town safe, her friends to come home, Carl back in her arms.

"It's coming," Sasha said, still scanning the distance.

"We'll be ready," Michonne adjusted her scope and took her place.

-l-l-l-l-

"Ain't you supposed to be helping?" Daryl grumbled.

"Who says I ain't?" Shane fired back.

"I do," Daryl glowered.

The road loomed before them. Shane glanced at the man in the driver's seat. "Anybody ever told you that you gotta piss-poor attitude, man?"

He was met with silence.

"See?" Shane threw his hands up. "That's your problem. You don't talk worth a damn."

Daryl slammed the brakes of the car. Shane rocked forward, nearly hitting his head on the dashboard.

"Fuck you," Daryl told him coldly.

Shane chuckled wryly. "Are you like this with everyone, or am I just lucky?"

"I've got nothing to say to you," Daryl continued to pout.

Shane sighed. "Whatever man," he pointed ahead. "You're going the wrong direction."

"I've already been back that way," Daryl protested. "That's a waste of time."

"Look man, we don't have time for this. If you were trying to hide in a world that had no more hiding places, where would you go?"

"This Governor prick ain't stupid enough to do that," Daryl raised a brow.

"Nah," Shane agreed readily. "But Andrea, she's smart enough to try it. Or desperate enough."

Daryl considered this. "You knew her?"

"Saved her life." There wasn't much point in lying.

"You trying to save her again?" Daryl asked.

"Might be. Mostly trying to kill the man who beat me and left me for dead." The idea gained more appeal the more he thought about it.

"What'd you do?" Daryl asked pointblank.

"Andrea liked me," Shane answered. "She wanted me to take her back to you guys. I agreed. He found out." He felt that anger in his chest again.

"Why'd you agree to do that? For some girl?"

Shane shrugged. "She talked a big game about your little town. Really sold it." In truth, it had sounded too good to be true. Shane should have known better. "Can't say she lied. You guys got it all. Houses, farms, schools…" Shane paused. "Beautiful girls."

Daryl stiffened. "You don't need to be worrying about any of them girls. They ain't for you."

Shane chuckled. "Maybe. I know you all are lucky though. Fight for that. It ain't too common these days."

Daryl nodded. A few moments of silence lapsed before he spun the car suddenly, heading for the Prison.

Shane smiled. "That's more like it."

He settled contently into his seat, no longer minding the quiet.

-l-l-l-l-

"They were here," it hurt to admit it, but Shane had been right.

"Were?" Shane was still peering in doors, looking for the wayward pair.

"Bout an hour or two ago," Daryl estimated.

"How do you know that?" Shane asked, looking skeptical.

Daryl shrugged. "It's what I do." He turned his attention away from the asshole in front of him. Someone had tried to clean up back here, but they'd missed the blood in the trashcan. Something roundish and covered in a bloody rag rested in the bottom of a covered metal bin. Daryl crouched, poking at it with his bow.

"What the fuck?" Shane glanced over his shoulder in disgust.

"Guess Michonne got him good," Daryl smiled, shutting the lid.

"Asshole just won't die," Shane grumbled. Daryl shared the sentiment.

"They didn't stay long." He looked towards the door. "Where would they go now?"

Shane paused. "Shit," he muttered.

"Let's go," Daryl moved quickly down the hall, Shane dogging his steps. Daryl started the car, gunning it for the gates.

They needed to get back home.

-l-l-l-l-

"Show me."

His mouth was pressed to her neck, his breath searing against her skin.

"Phillip," she pleaded, trying to escape his grip.

"Andrea," he mocked, his voice high-pitched. "Our people are in there. You're going to let them die for the people who left you?"

"They're not like that," tears ran hot and thick down her face.

"Look at me!" he turned her around forcefully. The hole in his face gaped at her, raw and red and painful. "Look what they did!"

Andrea gasped wetly, her legs going weak beneath her.

"You're taking me to them," Phillip demanded. "We're getting our people back. We're taking this place."

The knife bit at her neck where his mouth had been, drawing blood.

"Now," he insisted.

Hesitantly, Andrea's legs began to move toward the southern wall.