This Chapter had to go through a lot of editing and rewrites to get it to a final form that I was satisfied with. Thank you to everyone for your patience with my PC difficulties and creativity blocks.

Weaving in and out of cars trying to avoid being detected, Nick couldn't help but remember the days when she used to play hide –and-seek with his friends when he was younger. He was always the one who could never be found by the end of the game, hiding in the most unthinkable of places for hours on end. Hiding in the upstairs attic, inside kitchen cupboards with barely enough room to hide a small child, he even once hid inside the laundry dryer for nearly an hour. Who knew playing such childish games would pay off in his later years.

When things went to shit as a teenager it changed into something more of a survival game with his mother. She would try to look for him at the usual haunts where addicts would go to be safe from the eyes of the law, try to find him and drag him back home and get him some help despite the fact that he didn't want help. Five out of ten times she would find him holed up in an run-down house or in an abandoned parking garage, thank goodness she never knew about the church, nobody except Calvin and his "friends" where allowed to know the discreet location of the rundown sanctuary.

His vision begins to swim and he struggles to keep moving despite the growing shock and exhaustion. He trips on his feet and falls to the ground, he hears the rattling hiss of a walker advancing behind him.

Shit

Three of the dens he had stayed at were busted by the police, three times he hid for his life, and each time he managed to get away. He would hide in the most unthinkable of places and wait for the authorities to believe they had seized all the evidence they needed and leave, wait for at least 12 to 24 hours, and then escape under the cover of nightfall. Nobody could ever find him when he retreated to the shadows…until now.

Looks like Death's finally found me. Game Over.

Something creeps up behind the walker and stabs it upside the head. A strangled growl emits from the corpse's throat before falling towards the ground bringing the silent killer with it. He wasn't expecting it to be Daryl, the loner of the group.

Daryl motions for him to be quiet before tossing the dead walker on top of him and doing the same for himself with a dead driver. More walkers pass by them, not seeming to notice that the blood trail had mysteriously vanished.

Scent-rolling, of course. Why didn't I think of that sooner, wolves do it all the time.

He lay as still as he possibly could while letting out small slow breaths whenever he felt the need for oxygen. He cloud stay like this for hours, blocking out thoughts of hunger, cold and discomfort. He grits his teeth when he felt the sensation of something dribbling onto his arm and…

Oh god, how long is this gonna take?

The shambling footfalls of the dead seem to continue for hours before Daryl yanked the walker off his body and pulls him to his feet.

At the sudden change in position a wave of dizziness slams into him followed by a throbbing pain in his skull. He stumbles slightly and tries to brace himself against a car.

"Ey c'mon man, don't make me carry you back" Daryl growls.

"M'not, I'm just…fine."

"You're anemic is what you are with that cut on yer arm."

"It's just a flesh wound."

"Yeah keep telling yerself that."

ϪϪϪϪ

"Are they gone?" Sophia whispered to herself as the chatter of cicadas slowly replaced the fading footfalls of the walkers.

"Are they gone?"

She was used to hiding. Mommy always played the hiding game with her before dad would come home most nights. The objective was simple: find a place to hide and don't come out until Mommy found her or said it was okay to do so. She didn't need to worry about dad finding her because Mommy always found her first.

Where was she? The walkers were gone so surely Mommy would come out of hiding and look for her right? Maybe she couldn't find her, maybe she didn't know where to look, maybe she didn't know if it was safe to come out herself.

Maybe Mommy's looking for me right now.

She belly crawls her way out from under her hiding spot. A shadow approaches her.

Mom?

A rattling hiss disproves her assumption. Not Mommy, just another walker. Sophia shrieks in fear as it drops down onto its knees and attempts to grab her. Her screams grow more frantic as it crawls its way under the car. She shimmies her way out the other side and slides down the hill towards the forest. She needs to get away.

She remembered the time when she asked Mommy what would happen if dad ever found her first. The answer she got was simple: run. Run and get help, don't ever let him catch you. Later that answer would apply to the same things that ate her dad.

The sound of snapping twigs and foliage make her run faster, they're right behind her.

Go away! I don't wanna die!

She trips and falls, someone grabs her as she stumbles to her feet, before she can even scream a hand clamps down tightly over her mouth.

Mr. Grimes attempts to calm her when she notices the handgun he always carried by his side.

"Shoot them!" she whimpers, reaching for the gun.

"No. No!" he whispers loudly, pushing her hand away. "Those walkers on the road would hear it. Then it wouldn't be just two, it'd be hundreds."

The sound of snapping branches grows louder. They're getting closer! Mr. Grimes picks her up in his arms and carries her away towards a river, setting her down by the edge of the bank.

"All right, just hold here." He whispers before jumping down into the shallow water and tucking her underneath a cluster of overhanging branches.

"Sophia, you have to do exactly as I say. Hide in here and I'll draw them away from you."

"No no, don't leave me." She whimpers

"Listen, listen. They don't get tired but I do. I can only deal with them one at a time. I wouldn't be able to protect you; this is how we both survive. You understand?"

She doesn't want to be left alone but she gets why? She doesn't like it, but she has to deal with it. Cause whatever adults tell you to do, you do it; no arguing. She sniffs and nods in understanding.

"If I don't make it back, run to the highway, back to the others straight the way we came. Keep the sun on your left shoulder." Mr. Grimes instructs her.

Raspy growls tell her that the walkers are close on their trail. He curses and shouts to get their attention; they fall and stumble after him as her leads them away down river.

The sound of splashing grows farther away. Did Mr. Grimes get rid of them? Is he coming back? She didn't know but she didn't want to wait here to find out. Crawling out of the thicket and up the bank she retraced her steps back to the highway.

ϪϪϪϪ

Growing up in the city, Nick was used to hearing noise at night when trying to fall asleep. Cars, barking dogs, sirens, even an airplane or the hum of air-conditioning; but in the country there was nothing but silence.

He growls irritably as a dull pain rolls along the side of his head.

Silence, non-stop thoughts and three-hour headaches

How long was it going to be before he fell asleep? At this rate he'd be up until sunrise with this pain, and even if he didn't have this damn headache it still wouldn't be possible with all the thoughts he had running through his head.

Poor Sophia, I hope she's okay. Maybe she found shelter for the night and we'll find her tomorrow. Should I help look tomorrow?

A thought snaps back at his question, 'Probably not you'll just slow everyone down and be a burden as always.'

Again? Again with these nagging thoughts? Why?

'I don't know. That's something you should know the answer to. Oh, wait you can't. You know why?'

He growls and turns over on his side, trying to block out all thoughts of negativity.

'It's because you can't! You can't know the answer no matter how hard you try. Cause you're like a stupid dog chasing its own tail. You keep trying but it's not going to change a thing, even your mother's stopped trying. You should follow her example, give up and live with the way things are.'

That's not true; sis hasn't given up on me

'Has she? Are you sure she's not looking out for you because she's your sister? No, why would she? You've taken all the attention from her ever since you fell down the drain, that's why she's been working her ass off in school. She's doing it because she pities you; she pities you because now you have nobody to pay attention to you. Amazing how the tables have turned.'

"That's not true. You don't know that. You don't know anything about me"

'Do I? I'm pretty sure I do know it's true. Do you know why? It's because we're the same person dummy!'

"You're not real; you're just a figment of my imagination. You're a voice that only I can hear but can't control."

'Like grampa?' the voice seemingly whines into his ear like a buzzing mosquito.

Impulsively he smacks the annoying whine by his ear while simultaneously trying to turn away. He misses and feels his fingers brush against something cylindrical and plastic before knocking it to the floor with a soft thud and a rattle. He slaps his hand down on it to stop it from rolling.

Shit! Did anybody hear that?

He waits tentatively for the sound of movement and investigating footsteps, nothing; just silence. Guess everybody here were heavy sleepers. Carefully pulling the unknown object closer to his side he picks it up and attempts to make out what it is with his penlight.

The bottle of stolen vitamins, I thought I returned those? Did I put them there myself or did Dale leave 'em out? I wonder if he has more than just vitamins in that cabinet.

Carefully he makes his way towards the cabinet where Dale kept all of his pharmaceuticals. With a penlight as his only light source he has to be careful, and he has to be quiet. He knows it's wrong and that he should try to change but he has no other options. It's either this or spend the rest of the night in misery. Luckily the old man had some sleeping pills.

"Sorry Dale,"he whispers as he swallows a pill of Trazodone, "but I just don't see the point in trying to change when everyone's already given up on me."

Including myself

A/N: The mental conversation Nick has with himself is based off similar events from the personal experience of my messed up mind (and others) before taking antidepressants