ANDREA:

Every rustle of leaves sent her into a fit of nervous sweat. Every whistle from a bird was a bad omen signifying the Governor's approach. Andrea was finding it nearly impossible to keep her eyes open and more than once she had to give herself a hard pinch to stay awake. She was exhausted in every way possible; she hadn't slept since Merle awoke her from their shared bed in what seemed like years ago, her body was sore from all the beatings she had taken, her mind had all but exploded under the weight of her mixed emotions and she wanted nothing more than to set her back against the tree trunk and doze for just five minutes, but she didn't.

Their safety depended on her staying awake and alert in case someone or something came prowling around and in the middle of the day, they could not be in a more dangerous situation. Once in a while she would glance in the direction Daryl had gone, fooling herself into thinking that she could see him as a tiny speck on the horizon returning with help at his heels, but she realized that it was only hallucinations resulting from her dehydration. She didn't know how far away this prison was, but the way Daryl made it sound, it was quite far for one person to walk to—and a healthy, strong person at that—but the time it was taking him to gather reinforcements was time that Merle might not have.

He mostly slept, though he would jerk awake a few times and reach for a pistol at his hip that was not there. Andrea wanted to sit closer to him, but was afraid that he might grab her and attack her at some point out of sheer panic. As opposed to when they had climbed the tree, he didn't look like he was about to be sick now, but his face was still a complete mess. The only saving grace was that he had finally stopped bleeding.

At midday she found herself rocking in place, observing the ground many feet below, for about an hour after Daryl had left, she persuaded Merle to climb up until they reached the last branch that could safely hold both of their weight. Her temples were pounding and she thought for a moment that she was going to pass out and plummet to the earth, or maybe miss the ground completely and go splashing into the river. Biting down on her thumb, she turned to Merle and then nearly did fall because he was staring at her through bloodshot eyes and a half-crazed grin.

"Hi," he said hoarsely.

"Damn it, Merle, don't do that," she said peevishly.

"Kinda jumpy, aren'tcha?"

"I am not in the mood right now for your sarcasm, so just go back to sleep; you're easier to deal with that way."

Merle shook his head, wrapping his hand around his stomach and leaning forward with a grimace. "I've been watchin' ya for the past ten minutes, sweetheart, and you ain't gonna last much longer if y'try'n keep them peepers open. Switch me places; I'll take over on watch for you t'get a half hour've sleep in."

"You're in no condition-," she began, but Merle pinched her leg with his fingernails and after a moment, the pain reached her brain so that she tried to shake him off.

"See?" he said to prove a point. "Delayed reaction t'pain. You're fatigued and in after-shock. Take thirty, it's okay. I'm plenty rested and I need t'get my senses back into swing anyway if I'm gonna climb down from here without breakin' my neck. C'mon."

It was a tight fit sidling along the branch so that Andrea could lean against the trunk, but they managed it in the end. It was blissful, almost heavenly getting the opportunity to close her eyes and being able to keep them like that. She imaged that she saw Amy sitting beside her, rubbing her back in comforting circles and offering her a water bottle. Dale stood guard over her with his Hawkeye Rifle and tan fisherman's cap. His bulging brown eyes regarded her kindly, twinkling with the love he nurtured for her until the day he died. Andrea didn't recognize their surroundings; it was a valley strewn with wild grass growing up to waist height and pheasants poking their heads up every now and then as the rustle of the wind through the early summer leaves filled the air and echoed between two enormous mountains. She had never seen this place before, but in that moment she wished that she could remain here forever. No walkers, no opportunists, no anything, unless she wanted it to appear there.

She saw the likeness of Michonne wandering through the grass near the top of the hill, but she didn't have her katana with her. Daryl was walking behind her, weaponless as well, and he backed away until he was out of sight. Andrea waited, knowing who was coming next, but he didn't appear there. She stood up and shielded her eyes against the brilliant sun to get a better look, but could not see him. The pressure of Amy's hand left her back and when Andrea looked down at her, she saw that her sister's outline had become hazy and transparent. Beside her Dale looked the same and now neither of them smiled with love, but rather with sorrow.

"Y'can't have both, Andrea."

Merle was there in front of her, solid and clear next to Dale's distorted appearance. He reached out to her with his right hand and it was only then that she realized he had a right hand. At the same time, Amy joined Dale and held out her hand to Andrea as well.

Am I dead? Andrea wondered and as if he could read her thoughts Merle laughed, a sound far more different with warmth and genuine joy than she had ever heard come from his throat before.

"Not yet, baby," he told her with that crooked grin. "Not physically, anyway, but you've been ragin' this battle inside've you for quite some time, haven'tcha? This is the decision y'wish y'had—the one Dale took and the one Michonne took. Now's your chance." He turned his palm skyward and Amy waved hers as well.

My chance, at long last, my decision under my control. I can go now if I want and no one can stop me, thought Andrea and it was like a blanket of warmth wrapping around her shoulders at the thought that she actually could stay in this valley with her sister and Dale and never have to return to that life of uncertainty. If she gave up the will to live, she would pass on right beside Merle in that tree overlooking the river and never wake up. She could take Amy's hand and simply let go of everything else…

But how could she do that to Merle? He would sit, waiting for her eyes to open until walkers or the Governor or Daryl found him. All of his efforts to keep Andrea alive, to make her see that he would not give up on her as easily as she had would go to waste if she decided to leave him.

"Time's a'wastin'," said Merle. "If you're gonna decide, y'gotta do it now, sweetheart."

Amy's eyes sparkled with tears that would not fall as Andrea moved towards her, away from Merle. Dale pushed back his cap the better to look at her and though she could see the longing on his face, she was surprised to see him shake his head. He knew in death as he had in life that Andrea needed to go on, to keep trying for as long as she could.

"You'll still be here?" she asked them, hesitating with her fingers just centimeters from Amy's. Both she and Dale nodded and then Andrea stretched her arm out sideways and grasped Merle's hand.

She sat up with a gasp and felt something wrapped around her fingers. Looking down she saw that her fist was closed tightly around Merle's thumb while the rest of his hand enclosed hers. Her eyes slowly made their way up and when they settled on her face she was at a loss for words. Merle had an eyebrow raised inquisitively, but he didn't draw away. Andrea couldn't find it in herself to tell Merle how close she had been to never waking up, but seeing her hand in his made her wonder what she had said or done in her sleep.

"What—what happened?" she asked uncertainly.

"Nothin'," said Merle. "Y'fell asleep for a bit, grabbed my hand, and woke up a few seconds later. And you can let go now, y'know."

"Sorry," said Andrea when she noticed that she had been cutting off his circulation. "Just a nightmare, I guess. I must have—what's wrong?" she asked, for Merle had suddenly tensed at the sight of something coming towards the tree. He pressed a finger to his lips and motioned for her to back up and curl into a ball which she did just so that her head could peek over the side of the branch and she could see what was going on.

Her heart plummeted to the ground while the rest of her remained suspended in the tree at the sight of Tim and Crowley walking towards them arguing. Andrea pulled out her pistol and pressed it to her chest.

"I'm telling you, they wouldn't have come this way," Tim insisted. "Merle and his brother were bleeding all over the place and there's no way that woman could carry them. They're probably laying low closer to the town."

"Well, you can tell the Governor that when you get back, but I'm sticking to my instinct," said Crowley stubbornly. "Merle taught me a thing or two about tracking and I know those footprints we saw were heading this way. They came this far, but as to whether they went upriver or down, I don't know yet. They'll have gone into the shallows to not leave tracks, so I'm going to go feel around for footprints in the mud. You stay here on the high ground and let me know if you see biters."

Shit, thought Andrea. She looked to Merle for guidance, asking him without words if he wanted to press their luck and take Tim out while Crowley was occupied, wait for Crowley to return to put them both down, or just sit tight and hope neither of them had the sense to look straight up.

Merle held out his hand. Wait, his eyes said. He pointed to where Crowley had gone and then mimed walking with his fingers before pointing at Tim. Then he nodded at Andrea's pistol and gave her the thumb up. Wait for Crowley to come back and then get rid of them.

She would have to shoot two men, neither of whom had ever actually done her any harm. These weren't walkers. These were real, living people. Suck it up, she told herself firmly. If they find you, they won't hesitate to kill you even though you aren't a walker. They have orders to bring you back alive for more of Phillip's treatment. Do it or be done.

Exhaling through her nose Andrea prepared her weapon for action.

"Looks like we've got a winner, Tim," called Crowley. One of them headed downriver; I found prints." Seconds later Crowley reappeared, shouldering his rifle and Andrea knew it was time. It had been a while since her last shot, but she knew she could take both of them out, even if she couldn't prevent the noise her gun was about to issue.

"Now," Merle whispered.

Andrea locked her sights on Crowley and let off two rounds, one into his ear and the other through the side of his neck. Before Tim could react she put a cap in his chest.

"Nice shootin'," complimented Merle.

"That was wrong," said Andrea queasily. "Not even face-to-face, I just-,"

"Hey." Merle grabbed her wrist and commanded her gaze with a very serious, no bullshitting expression. "It had t'be done, y'understand? Y'know they'da killed ya if they couldn't take ya back to Woodbury, you—know —that. They weren't good men, Andrea, and they weren't innocent neither."

"Are we good, innocent people?" Andrea asked him.

"One've us is," Merle murmured.

Andrea let her legs hang over the branch to stretch out as the two bodies held her attention below. There was no way Crowley would be getting up again, but Tim's corpse might at some point. It was impossible to say when, but Andrea hoped they were the only ones who would come this way. If Shuphert or Gabe arrived, the element of surprise might not work so well this time. She was just beginning to consider the possibility that she could climb down and retrieve the fallen weapons when the first walker appeared.