A/N: Thank you for the follows and the favorites. And thank you to specialsmiley1315 for the review.

Chapter Twenty-One

Marianne woke before sunlight stretched across the sky. All was quiet and the only other person that must be awake was the one on watch. Marianne wondered who it was. She ignored the pain, which had lessened a tiny degree, the best she could. She put on her jacket and left the room, making her way down the hallway and silently entering the living room.

It was slightly warmer in there than the bedroom and she guessed it had to do with the accumulation of everyone's body heat. She tiptoed around the sleeping bodies trying her best not to disturb anybody. T-Dog was the only one missing.

She found him on the porch. He turned when the door opened and looked surprised to see her. Marianne walked over to stand beside him. The morning air was chilled. She hoped they wouldn't have a hard winter.

"What are you doing up?" T-Dog asked in a hushed voice.

"I'm an early riser. Plus I slept half of yesterday and all night."

"How are you feeling? Hershel told us how you got hurt."

"I've been better. Wish I could've chopped that tree down and used it for firewood."

T-Dog chuckled. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"You'd have'ta do somethin' pretty terrible for that to happen."

T-Dog's face fell and she was confused about his reaction. "I think I might've," he said. "It was partly my fault, why we left you behind. I saw you go down and I told everyone there was no way you survived. I'm sorry. I don't think I can say that enough."

Marianne's heart sunk a little and she looked away from him but she didn't have it in her to be angry at him. "It looked pretty bad on my end so I can only imagine what it looked like to you."

"So you're not mad at me?"

She shook her head. "I'm not mad." Her mind strayed for a moment. This revelation had reminded her that she and Daryl hadn't had the big talk yet—about why he didn't go back.

"How'd you get out of it?" T-Dog asked.

"Went under the car and waited."

"Wow, I never thought of that." T-Dog raised his eyebrows at her, looking impressed.

"Can you tell the others? I don't feel like explainin' it over and over."

"Yeah, it's the least I can do."

They stood in companionable silence for a couple of minutes. Marianne thought about how much she wanted to hunt while the sky began to lighten.

"Daryl stood up to Rick yesterday," T-Dog said. "Did he tell you about Rick's big speech?"

"Yeah."

"Well no one's gone up against Rick like that since."

"What was it about?" She asked.

"You. Rick wanted us to leave this morning but Daryl didn't want you movin' around." He eyed her. "I don't think he'll like you out of bed."

"Tough. He can deal with it. It's not like I'm runnin' a marathon."

"And if Rick sees you he might change his mind about leavin'."

"Then he can deal with it too."

"You're not too happy with him, are you?"

Before Marianne could answer the front door opened and Glenn stepped outside with a rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Morning," Glenn said.

"Morning," T-Dog and Marianne said at the same time.

"I guess it's time to go in," T-Dog. "Man, I wish we still had coffee."

"You and me both," Glenn said, punctuating the statement with a yawn.

"There's no coffee? Anywhere?" Marianne asked.

"Oh, there is. But we found out the smell attracts walkers so we stopped makin' it."

"Huh. Good thing I'm not a big coffee drinker."

"How do you survive?" Glenn asked. "You always wake up so early."

"By sheer force of will," Marianne teased. She thought this was a good sign. Things might get back to normal sooner than she thought they would.

She followed T-Dog into the house and looked around the living room. Everyone except Carl was either out of bed or stirring. The boy was still passed out and it looked like he was in a restless sleep.

Carol already had a strong fire going and Beth was folding blankets from some makeshift beds to clear up floor space. Lori was sitting up, still on the sofa which was clearly where she had slept. Marianne could see her dark under eyes from across the room.

Rick, Daryl, and Hershel were gone. Maggie stood up and stretched. She was the first one to notice Marianne.

"Hey, how are you?" Maggie asked, making Beth, Carol, and Lori look to see who she was talking to.

"Fine."

"It's good to see you up," Lori said.

Daryl walked into the living room, coming from the back hallway. "What're you doin' out of bed?" He asked without preamble.

"Got some fresh air."

"You shouldn't be up," he said and the stabbing pain in her side supported this but she wouldn't tell him that.

"Too late," she said. Daryl gave her a grumpy look which she shrugged at.

"I'm gonna get some more firewood," he said. "You best be in bed by the time I get back."

"Yes sir," Marianne said which made a few people have to suppress their smiles. Daryl scoffed and left the room, heading for the back door.

Marianne sat on the couch that had already been vacated by whoever had slept there. Maggie sat next to her and began brushing her bed head away. She was using the same hairbrush Daryl had yesterday.

"I'm so happy you're back. We all missed you," Maggie said Marianne looked down at her lap.

"Yeah, it's good to be here."

A conversation began among T-Dog, Lori, Maggie, and Carol. It was mostly about what they were going to do for the day. Their attempts to include Marianne failed. She didn't know how to act around everyone and fidgeted in her seat. Being around more than two people overwhelmed her.

Listening and watching how easy it was for them to be around each other made her realize she didn't know how she fit into the group anymore. Had it always been this hard? Her memory was failing her and any positive effects of talking with T-Dog had quickly worn off. This wasn't going to be easy. Leaving the bedroom had been a mistake.

She stood up too fast and swayed. She knew she wasn't at peak physical condition with her injury and having been on a restricted diet for a little over a month but this was ridiculous and it was making her angry.

Marianne swept aside the others' concern and retreated to the bedroom. The tension she hadn't noticed left her body and she sighed in relief. How am I gonna do this every day?

Daryl came into the room with what smelled like two bowls of oatmeal.

"Apple cinnamon?"

"Don't get used to it. All that's left is plain."

"I knew it was too good to last."

He handed her a bowl and sat next to her on the bed with his own. He stretched his legs out.

"Your boots have blood on 'em."

"Dry blood," he said as he kicked them off. His socks weren't much better off.

"You need clean socks," she said before eating her first spoonful. Next to leftover scraps of squirrel and hard as a rock granola bars for breakfast, this was heaven.

"What for?"

"They're filthy."

"So?"

"Clean socks'll feel better."

"I don't care what they feel like," he said after swallowing some oatmeal and she didn't doubt it. Over the years the only way his vest was cleaned was her sneaking it into the washing machine. She'd put it back right where she found it and he never mentioned anything about it to her.

They were scraping their bowls clean when Marianne decided now was as good a time as any to have the talk she was dreading.

She set her bowl aside and began picking at some fuzz on the quilt they were sitting on.

"Daryl." He turned to look at her. "I need to know." She looked him directly in the eyes. "I need to know why you didn't go back."

He dropped his spoon in his bowl and it clattered. His face went blank. Marianne resisted the urge to look away.

"Please." Her voice faltered. "I forgive you, I really do but I don't understand."

A look appeared on his face that she'd never seen before and couldn't recognize. "I don't know if I have an answer. I've been askin' myself the same thing every day."

"That's not good enough."

Daryl starting biting his thumb but stopped so he could speak."T-Dog and Lori said they saw you die. And Rick said it was no use goin' back. It wasn't safe on the highway so he wanted to leave."

"Rick said. Rick wanted. I don't give a damn what he says or wants."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

She finally looked away from him, unable to bear the sorrow on his face. "I know you are."

"I'd do anything to take it back. To change it."

"But it can't be." She wished they could have a do over like he did, that it could all be erased. She had more new scars than the one on her face. "I waited for you and you didn't come. I- I went through hell." She was crying now and there was no use hiding it or trying to stop.

Marianne turned her head to look at him again. His face was wet. "I wanna help," he said, wiping away his tears.

"I just want to be alone right now."

Daryl looked like he wanted to stay but nodded and left the room.

She forced herself to stop crying. Marianne didn't know how long she had been staring at the ceiling when she heard a light knock. She didn't respond but the door opened anyways. It was Carol.

The older woman stepped into the room looking concerned and Marianne felt her patience to deal with people slip away.

"Daryl took off." Marianne didn't like that Daryl had left but, if she was in any shape to, she would've gone off to be alone too. Then she wouldn't have Carol talking to her right now. "He looked upset. What happened?"

"None of your business."

Carol pressed her lips into a thin line. "He's been beating himself up."

"If Daryl's the only thing you want to talk about then you can save your breath. Go worry somewhere else." Carol opened her mouth to speak again but Marianne gave her a warning look and Carol changed her mind. The older woman left the room and Marianne closed her eyes in an attempt to stave off an incoming headache.

Not even an hour had passed when there was another knock on the door. Marianne gave a frustrated sigh. What did she have to do around here to be left alone?

"Are you decent?" Hershel asked through the closed door. The question was too absurd to not be a joke considering he'd already seen her nearly half naked.

"Come in," she said. It didn't go unnoticed that so far he'd been the only one to ask her permission to enter the bedroom.

Hershel walked in carrying one of their bags with their medical supplies.

"How is it?" He asked.

"It hurts."

"Let me check on it and change the bandages."

Marianne lifted her shirt so Hershel could cut the bandages off. Only a little bit of blood had seeped through all the layers. He carefully peeled them off and her stomach flinched as her wound was exposed to the air.

There wasn't a lot of light since they kept the blinds and curtains closed so Hershel used a small flashlight to get a good look at her. "Not much of a change but there's signs it's healing. No signs of infection." He began putting on new bandages. "You need to keep your movement limited for now. You don't want another setback like yesterday."

"So Rick told you what I did."

"Yes he did," he said in a neutral voice, not giving her the disapproving look she was expecting. "If you had hit him any harder you would've broken his nose." Hershel finished with the bandages. "I'll give you another antibiotic pill. I'd also recommend you take the pain medication. At least half a pill."

She scrunched her nose. "Why?"

"You'll be more comfortable and rest better. A stressed body heals slower." Marianne couldn't argue with that and took the medication less reluctantly than last time.

It was a little past one in the afternoon and Marianne was well into her task of sharpening her knives when there was a timid knock on the door.

"Marianne? It's Beth."

"It's open."

Marianne set aside her knife and whetstone as Beth entered. She was carrying a plate. "I brought you lunch." It looked more like a good sized snack than a lunch.

"Y'all have lunch?" Marianne asked, surprised.

"Sometimes." This sounded suspicious.

"And today?"

"Only you and Lori." Beth handed her the plate and she took it.

Marianne stared at the package of peanut butter crackers and canned pears. "I won't eat the crackers unless you eat the pears."

"I can't do that."

"I know you're hungry. I am."

"I don't know…"

"I won't tell if you won't. Come on." Marianne took the crackers off the plate, leaving the pears, and held it up for Beth. It looked like she thought long and hard before deciding to take the plate.

Beth smiled at her in thanks and sat on the bench with her legs crossed, facing towards Marianne. "Carl has a fever. He's stuck in bed."

"Is it bad?" Marianne asked as she opened the package of crackers.

"No, Daddy says it's just a cold."

"Let's hope he gets better soon."

Beth nodded. She had a serious look on her face. "Maggie and Glenn left to find cold medicine and tissues. I think extra blankets too."

"Does it look like anyone else has caught it yet?"

"No, but Daddy says it's only a matter of time." Marianne frowned. This was exactly what they didn't need. They couldn't afford to have the group incapacitated. Colds used to be an inconvenience but now it could mean your death.

A sudden weariness overtook Marianne. She wanted a break from this world, from this life.

She encouraged Beth to talk so she didn't have to. She'd throw in a nod every once in awhile. They finished their meager meal quickly and Beth thanked her again for the pears before leaving the room with the plate.

Marianne had a book on her lap open at the same page for over an hour. She gave up the pretense that she was trying to read and closed it, forgetting to mark her place.

There was a knock on the door and then Beth walked in with a stack of sheets and two pairs of scissors.

"Daddy thought you might want somethin' useful to do."

She motioned for Beth to sit on the other side of the bed which she did, setting the sheets between them.

Marianne grabbed one of the scissors. "Does Hershel have any specifications?"

"No, he said the way you did them was fine. He said you cut really straight."

"I had a lot of time to kill."

"I can imagine." Beth grabbed one of the sheets and unfolded it. Marianne did the same and both of them started cutting. "When we're done we're gonna put them in boiling water. Carol already took down the shower curtains in one of the bathrooms and cleaned the shower rod so we can hang them there to dry."

"Sounds like y'all've been busy." While I'm in here doin' absolutely nothing.

"We like helpin'."

"I guess I'm not used to it."

They each finished cutting their first strip. "How did you stand it? Being alone." Beth asked. Marianne was surprised at the boldness of her question, so surprised she answered more truthfully than she liked.

"I almost didn't." Jimmy's pale face flashed through her mind. His blood soaked shirt. His walker eyes. Frank and Will being torn apart. She remembered how she had smiled at their screams. Three men crumpling to the ground where they stood. What would the group think about her if they knew? What would they do? She took a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't worry about it." Marianne could sense that Beth had another question and she was almost sure it concerned Jimmy. "I made sure he didn't stay a walker. He's dead for good." She didn't know if that was the answer Beth was looking for. It was the best Marianne could do.

She watched Beth for her reaction and the girl's face turned somber. They cut the sheets in silence.

Someone's hand was on her shoulder gently shaking it. Marianne opened her eyes but her vision was blurred like she was underwater. She couldn't identify the person standing over her.

"Marianne," a woman whispered.

"Julia?" This didn't make any sense. Julia was dead. She had driven a knife through her head.

"They're coming."

"Who?"

"You have to hide."

Marianne sat up. There was no pain. "From who?" She didn't get an answer. She blinked and Julia was gone. Her vision cleared and she saw she was in a different bedroom, the one where Julia had died.

She got out of bed and lifted her shirt. Her skin was unmarked. Marianne's forehead wrinkled at the absence of her injury.

"I'm dreaming," she said to the empty room. She automatically looked around for her weapons. There was a gun on the dresser but it wasn't her Ruger. She didn't even finish taking one step towards the dresser when the door banged open. She had forgotten that she was supposed to hide.

Five men filed into the room and surrounded her blocking any path of escape.

She shook her head. "You're all dead. I—"

"You killed us," Frank said. "You're a murderer."

Will leered at her. "A coldblooded bitch."

They closed in on her and she took a step back, her legs bumped into the nightstand. There was nowhere for her to go.

Suddenly the gun from the dresser was in Frank's hand. He aimed it at her head and pulled the trigger. Marianne saw red, the rich crimson of blood.

Someone's hand was on her shoulder shaking it. She opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry as if tears had pooled there. She couldn't identify the person kneeling next to her.

"Marianne," a man whispered.

"Rick?" The air was cold and she could feel grass underneath her. This didn't make any sense. She blinked rapidly and her vision cleared. The stars were bright behind Rick's head. His face was a collection of shadows.

"Are you okay? What are you doin' out here?"

Marianne sat up. There was pain. "What?" She slowly blinked, trying to orient herself and push away her confusion.

"Are you okay? Do you sleepwalk?"

"Sleepwalk? Not since… high school. After…" She rubbed her eyes instead of finishing her sentence.

"Let me help you up." Rick held out his hand but Marianne ignored it. The anger she held for him was flooding back and growing stronger with each breath.

"I don't need your help," she snapped and stood up by herself on unsteady legs. With the aid of the moonlight she looked at her surroundings. She hadn't been in the backyard yet but that's where she guessed she was.

The back door was ajar and an icy finger ran down her spine. She bet she was the one that had left it open and made the people inside vulnerable.

She tore her gaze away from the house and looked at Rick, who stood next to her too close for comfort. His arms were crossed and he was scrutinizing her.

"Are you okay?" He wasn't asking for an answer, he was demanding one.

Her right hand clenched into a fist. "Peachy keen."

"You need to get back inside. We'll talk about this in the morning."

"There's nothin' to talk about."

"Yes there is. This is a problem and it needs to be addressed."

"Good luck gettin' my cooperation officer."

"You're actin' like a child."

"How's this for childish." She turned her back on him and stormed off into the house.

A/N: My allergies have been crazy bad and leaving me so tired I've been sleeping in most of my free time. I've put this up literally minutes after I finished it so forgive any mistakes.

Any reactions? Thoughts? I'd love to hear from you.