Walking Dead is not mine.

Rick Grimes had seen a lot of disturbing things in his time as a sheriff. And even more since the world was over-run with animated starving corpses. The scene he was currently witnessing garnered its own level of disturbing distinction. Daryl Dixon, the gruff redneck no-nonsense hunter, was nervous. Fidgeting in his chair, wringing his hands type of nervous. Over a woman. And Beth Greene of all people. Admittedly, Rick was surprised when he first learned of their relationship. It was unconventional to say the least. But then, these weren't exactly conventional times. It was clear they cared a great deal for one another. Rick envied it- the deep connection with another person and the ...intimacy. But this was just too much.

The entire group, plus the newcomers, were sat around the table in the common area of the prison eating their plain fare in peace. Daryl kept shooting furtive glances at the petite blonde next to him and biting his lip. If the former Sheriff didn't know any better, he would say his second in command was preparing for the worst. A scolding or rejection of some kind. Rick believed Beth oblivious to the hunter's inner turmoil, but she surprised him by taking Daryl's dirty twitching hand into both of hers and rubbing circles into his skin. She whispered something inaudible into his ear and delivered a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. This did the trick. Daryl's leg stopped dancing under the table and he sat up a little straighter.

Beth retracted her hands and made to stand up but Daryl snagged an arm around her waist and planted her firmly at his side.

"Dishes can wait," Daryl grunted at her.

"It's my turn," she protested, but remained exactly where she was.

Merle's rasping chuckle sounded from a few seats down and Rick realized he wasn't the only one observing the exchange. "What's the matter, Darylina? Can't go without your woman for a few minutes. It's pathetic."

Daryl just rolled his eyes. Fights with his brother had lost their mean-spirited fire long ago. "I ain't seen her all day. 'Sides, I notice your sniper eyes haven't left Carol yet." Sure enough, this snapped Merle's attention from said woman to scowl at Daryl, earning a laugh from everyone at the table, even Major. It was moments like these that kept Rick alive. After all that had happened, all that they'd lost, this was what reminded him that they were not too far gone. Life was still there. Granted, he never thought Merle Dixon would be the one to give him hope, but again- unconventional times.

"If we're done gigglin' like a bunches of school, girls, I wanna know what Le Family de Garcon's story is. They seem out of place to me." Merle's demand brought a hushed silence.

Rick interjected, "you'll have to forgive my colleague's rudeness. I make no excuses. He's just...Merle. But to be honest, I confess to some curiosity myself."

Without looking up, Armand finished the last of his meal and used a small towel to wipe his face, as if he were at a fancy state dinner instead of a post-apocalyptic prison rations supper. Rick noticed Major was glaring at Armand and squeezing the utensil in his hand so hard, he feared it would bend into uselessness.

Finally, the Frenchman looked up, straight at Rick, and began in a soft lightly accented voice, "As I told your friends, I am a Doctor. I practiced medicine for several years but found research and development more to my liking. Two years ago, a man, late thirties, walked into Mount Sinai Hospital in New York, complaining of fever, extreme fatigue, headaches, and irritated skin."

Major interjected, "Be quiet DuBois."

Armand gave him a look of incredulity. "Why? Afraid to leak 'classified' information. Grow up, Major. There is no one to keep this secret for anymore."

The SEAL's mouth thinned in obvious aggravation but he crossed his arms over his chest and remained silent. Armand took this as his cue to continue. "The doctors there ran every scan and test available with no conclusive results. After several days in isolation, they concluded the disease was not contagious and lifted quarantine. A huge mistake of course. Three days later, the patient suffered a massive myocardial infarction. While performing the autopsy, the man regenerated and attacked. The pathologist never stood a chance. The- what do you call them, walkers?- the walker attacked 13 more people in the hospital before it was finally put down by a lucky shot from a security guard. Straight through the temple. Eight of the victims survived. They were examined briefly and released to go home. You can guess the rest from there. This was the first officially reported case."

"This is all real informative, Doc, but what the hell does it have to do with you?" Daryl's patience was wearing thin. He obviously had somewhere better to be.

"I'm getting to that," Armand gave a sad smile and continued, "Rare and Undiscovered Viral Infections are my specialty, were my specialty. I was offered a temporary position at the CDC in Atlanta to study the specimens, figure out what exactly caused the cannibalistic massacre. I brought my family along with me because I estimated it would take several months, possibly even years to study such an extraordinary virus and find a solution."

He paused to put his arm around his wife, who gave him a tired smile in return. "The corpses from Mount Sinai arrived at the CDC the same day I did. I went to work immediately. Stayed in contact with my fellow scientists back in France throughout the entire process. There had been several outbreaks in that area as well at this point. It all happened so quickly. One day, it was a matter of a few isolated incidents. Within weeks, populations were overrun, entire cities were shutting down. Every able scientist in the world was on this case. Everything depended on it and we were so close. I partnered with a geneticist and we discovered that theoretically, a small percent of the population should be immune to the virus. In fact, over time, it would actually make them stronger, faster, healthier. Evolution. That's what we were calling it. The next step in the evolutionary chain. The only problem was...we found no one. Between the CDC and other national health organizations, we tested thousands. Tens of thousands- but found nothing."

At this point in the tale, everyone around the table was riveted, even the Dixon brothers. Armand continued to stare at a point over Rick's shoulder, lost in his horrible memories. "It was all theoretical until finally, at the edge of civilization, a colleague of mine tested a 23-year-old male. One of many random blood tests. The viral cells were eradicated by the man's white blood cells and platelets. It was incredible. In a fit of desperation, with no time for proper testing, he injected the man with an entire syringe full of infected blood. It had little effect. He developed a slight fever for a few hours, but eventually reverted to his normal healthy self. His surname was Jacqueme, so we called them J-cells. We were ecstatic. Using his blood, we could develop a vaccine."

Rick's mind was buzzing. This was all incredible. Almost unbelievable. A memory surfaced and his jaw dropped open in shock. "Jenner."

Everyone turned their focus to him. Beth looked confused. "What's a jenner?"

Daryl squeezed her hip and answered, "Not what. Who. Jenner was the bastard from the CDC who tried to blow us all up. Son of a bitch damn near succeeded. Did manage to get himself caught in the explosions."

Beth gasped and turned to Rick. "What does that...man...have to do with anything?"

Rick was excited now. "He told us it was the French. He said that they were the closest to finding a cure."

The original group members were stunned. It had happened so long ago that it felt like another lifetime. But they remembered.

Glenn looked to Armand. "So, you did it, you found the cure. You can help us."

The Frenchman shook his head. "Before we could begin, Jacqueme was attacked. He may not have been able to turn, but that didn't prevent him from becoming a midnight snack for a small group of those monsters. Needless to say, we were devastated. We were not allowed to wallow in our grief for long. Soon after, global communications were lost. Then the American government went silent. I tested everyone at the CDC- staff, military, officials. No luck. We were sent out to search for candidates. Lieutenant Carvelle and his unit were our escort."

Rick stopped him at this point, "Hold on. Lieutenant? I thought you were a major. And what unit?"

Major scoffed, "I'm a SEAL. There is no rank of major in the Navy. Major is my name." He jerked a thumb in Elise's direction. "Told the little squirt to cheer her up. I always thought it was funny, so I figured she might too. Sue me. As for my team, you're looking at what's left of it." His tone was bitter.

"Apologies. Just don't have any room for liars in this camp. Can't be too careful." Rick offered.

"Couldn't agree with you more, Lawman."

There was a loaded silence after their conversation, so Carol joined in, "You've been on the road all this time?" The small group all nodded in confirmation. "Doing what exactly?"

It was Mrs. Dubois who answered, "Like my husband said, we have been testing any willing parties." She gestured to the bag of equipment laying a few feet away. Rick had noticed that Dubois and Major never went more than a few minutes without checking for it. "So far..."She shook her head.

Rick locked eyes with each member of his extended family before settling on Armand. "Test us."

The scientist's head perked up. "You will allow it?"

"Allow you to try and cure this thing? Hell yes. And, even if nothing comes of it, we could always use a doctor near by. No offense Hershel."

The older man chuckled. "None taken. In fact, it would be nice to share the burden."

"We would be so grateful," Mrs. Dubois said, clasping her hands together.

Rick nodded. "So, Doc, what do we need to do?"

"Simple enough. I take a small vial of blood from each of you. The odds are against us. But once, my scientific mind would have laughed at the thought of walking corpses, so...why not?"

"If it's all the same to everyone, I'd like to go ahead and get it over with tonight. I know we are all tired, but I want to know...I think we all NEED to know."

Everyone greed and soon a system was set up. Blood was drawn and labeled by Hershel, Carol, and Perrine, while Armand set up his laboratory in a small cell at the far end of the block away from any distractions. Quicker then he thought possible, Rick watched the scrawny scientist squirrel himself away into his makeshift laboratory with all of their blood samples. The former sheriff found himself doing something he had not done in a long time. He prayed.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

Beth was tired. She'd spent all day washing and hanging laundry and looking after Judith. It was hard work and she was aching. Plus, Daryl's safe return had tired her even further. She realized that she had spent most of the day with bated breath and tense muscles, waiting for him to come home. It was exhausting. But here he was, right by her side.

They were standing now, away from the others. He pushed a strand of hair off her forehead and traced a path with his hand to land on the nape of her neck. He pulled her in for a gentle claiming kiss and she sighed in response. "I missed you," she whispered.

He gave her a crooked grin, "I only been gone one day, princess."

She lightly slapped his shoulder, "it was a long day."

She turned on her heel and made to rejoin the group, but he turned her back around and kissed her again, less gentle, more demanding this time. He leaned in and she felt his next words down to her toes, "I missed you too, Beth."

She was about to respond when a commotion caught both of their attention.

"Mon Dieu! I can not believe it!" It was Armand, he was yelling and laughing. He came barging out of the lab. "Perrine, we did it! We found a carrier." He went straight to his wife and picked her up into his arms in a bear hug.

"Hate to ruin the moment, but what exactly are you saying, Doc?" Rick demanded. The man's good mood would not be diminished. His wife was crying what appeared to be tears of joy. Even Major was sporting a grim smile. Dubois stilled for a moment to compose himself. "Mr. Grimes, against all odds, there is a J-Cell carrier in your group. I hate to admit- I almost fainted when I saw...I've been looking for so long..."

"So, you can cure us?" Carl asked.

It was little Elise who answered him. "Of course he can. My Daddy can do anything."

Armand had tears in his eyes now too. "Its not as simple as you make it sound, my sweet, but yes, with the proper time and equipment, I can develop a vaccine that will eliminate whatever dormant virus is already in our systems and prevent any active virus from taking hold should we be bitten. Incredible."

Chaos reigned. Everyone was laughing.

Then Major spoke up. "Yeah, it's all hoorays and huzzahs, but you're forgetting. We've encountered other people before this. Not all of them were nice. Or good. They know about J-cells and if word ever gets out that a carrier has been discovered, that person's life would be in terrible danger. They are the key. We are treading deadly waters here."

Surprisingly, it was Merle who shot down Major's dire warning, "Stuff it, Fishsticks. This is good news worth celebrating. The first any of us has had since this whole shitstorm began, except for maybe my baby brother over there who damn near wet his panties when his little lady agreed to stoop to his level."

"Fuck off, Merle." Daryl's cheeks were pink but Beth assuaged his pride by giving him a loving kiss on the cheek.

"Well?" Maggie's question came from nowhere.

"Well what?"

She rolled her eyes. Beth loved her big sister but patience was never one of Maggie's strengths. "Who is it? The carrier?"

Silence descended once again as everyone turned to Armand for an answer. "Oh yes, of course. Of course. Forgive me." He ran back to the cell and returned moments later with one of the vials in his hand. "Here it is."

Beth looked at Daryl again. His entire body was tense. She knew he was running all possible protective measures through his head. She did not envy whatever unlucky soul would carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. All she wanted was food and water, Judith, a little comfort occasionally, and of course, Daryl.

Dubois peered at the name written on the side of the vial. Then he looked up and spoke seven words that left Beth in shock and Daryl breaking out into a cold sweat. "Which one of you is Beth?"

Reviews are love.