ANDREA:

It took her a minute or two to squeeze out from underneath the Governor's motionless body, but eventually Andrea was able to crawl free and only then did the pain really hit her for the first time since Shupert shot her. It wasn't just luck that saved her; no one as good of a shot as Shupert could just miss her at such a close range with a handgun. Someone was looking out for her and it wasn't only Merle, though he played a major role in that area. There was no way she could have quite literally dodged a bullet twice if he hadn't gone full Dixon on Shupert after that first shot. The hole was just a flesh wound in her hip, nothing Hershel couldn't fix up, but Merle needed the older man's attention more than she did.

"You…" Merle spat at her. His clothes were completely red and brown so that she couldn't tell what color they had been before they were introduced to the mud and blood of the day. She saw an additional wound in his side.

"Stop moving," she told him strictly. "Stay still or you'll make everything worse."

"Can't make anything worse after all've this," said Merle, motioning at the carnage around them. Andrea pulled up the side of his ripped wife beater to examine the new wound and happened to glance over at Michonne. She found it difficult to swallow and choked back a sob as she applied some pressure to the cut in Merle's ribs.

"Ow!" he shouted.

"Oh, shut up," said Andrea, her voice breaking. "Of everything that's happened to you, this is the least serious."

He tried to stand up and she whacked him across the face with her fist. "I said to stay still, damn it, so you'd better fucking stay still!"

Her words worked magic on him, but not because her tone was threatening. Merle reached up and put his palm to her cheek for a second before his arm fell and he started to twitch. Andrea held his shoulders steady as she called out to someone, anyone.

"Help! Somebody help him!"

Daryl and Rick reached her at the same time that T-Dog's group came to the ledge.

"Glenn, Maggie, go get your car and bring it as far towards us as you can. Tee, you, Daryl and I are gonna lift him outta this riverbed and then we'll get him back to the prison as fast as we can. Once you get there, someone run on ahead and tell Hershel that you're comin'. The rest've us will follow in the other car."

Despite his injury, Rick secured a firm hold under Merle as he and Daryl lifted Merle straight up to where T-Dog was reaching for him. Andrea watched with her mouth hanging open and afterwards felt incredibly stupid for not doing more, but there was little to be done. She scavenged a few weapons from the fallen enemies and started to make her way back to the outcrop to pass them up to Daryl who had just climbed out of the bank when she remembered Michonne. Glancing back, she saw that her friend's sword was still close to her hand. Andrea could never learn to wield the weapon herself, but she couldn't just leave it there for someone from Woodbury to find. She couldn't leave Michonne to be found either.

She knew that all of her movement could not be good for her bullet wound, but she would never be able to live with herself if she abandoned Michonne when her friend had risked everything including her life to come to Andrea's rescue twice. Andrea owed her a proper burial at least.

There was no danger of Michonne coming back as a walker; the stray bullet had made sure of that, but that did not make her any easier for Andrea to lift, especially with the wound in her side. She took a firm hold of both of Michonne's arms and dragged her about ten feet before her body protested and she had to let go, clutching at her wound and biting back the building pain. T-Dog appeared in front of her and slung Michonne quite easily over his shoulder before offering up his hand to Andrea.

"C'mon," he said. "You're riding with Merle. I'll see that she gets back okay."

Okay? thought Andrea incredulously. Is that some kind of joke?

Maggie was opening the back doors of the car so that the men could try to figure out how to squish Merle inside without actually squishing him and still have room for Andrea and Daryl. Thankfully, Maggie volunteered to stay behind so that Daryl could sit shotgun and Andrea could hold Merle's head in her lap to keep it from bouncing around too much in the back. At this point Andrea didn't care where she got blood as she slid into her seat and felt hot red ooze from her wound smear across the leather material. She rested Merle's head on her thigh and only just then realized how much worse he looked—if that was even possible—since she had left him to draw the walkers off, but then again, he had fallen out of the tree and into the river and also had a brutal wrestling match with the Governor. How his face looked now was the least of anyone's worries.

Rick lifted Merle's legs and pushed them up tight to his chest to make them fit and then slammed the door before they could pop out again. He pounded on the roof of the car. "Okay, Glenn, nice and easy but fast as you can. We'll be about a half hour behind you. Keep an eye out, okay?"

"Sure thing, Rick," said Glenn. Of the three of them conscious in the car, he looked the least nervous. He backed up the car, pulling it around to face west and then with a slow build up, started to gain as much speed as he could sustain on the bumpy trail. Andrea closed her eyes in the back seat, afraid that she was going to puke all over Merle's face. She was secretly glad that he had passed out by now because she knew that this insane car ride would have made him throw up all the river water he had swallowed. When Glenn hit a large hole and the car bounced recklessly over it, Andrea sailed straight up and knocked her forehead against the top of the roof. Eyes watering, she cursed at him and hissed, "Can you please try to watch where you're driving, Andretti?"

"Sorry, sorry," Glenn muttered. "The light's fading out and it's getting harder to see what I'm driving over."

"I got an idea," said Daryl. "Switch me. I'll drive so that you can jump out, unlock the gate and go tell Hershel that we're comin'."

"I don't want to stop with night setting in," said Glenn nervously.

"I'll knock you out and take the wheel anyway," Daryl warned and Glenn nearly slammed on the brakes. As the two were switching places, Andrea heard the dead moaning from all sides. Daryl only just managed to slip into the driver's seat and shut the door before a walker pressed itself against the window, clawing and trying to break in.

"It's okay," said Glenn, glancing at Andrea in the rear-view mirror. "Walker activity is already thick around the prison, but they've always been more active at night. We're almost there."

Right on cue, Merle jerked awake and skewered the seatback with his blade. Andrea nestled her hand on his arm and tried to calm him. "You're okay," she said softly. "We're going to get you some help."

"There was a door," said Merle, his words slurred. "And a light…bright—bright light…tried t'walk…"

"What the hell's he talkin' about?" asked Daryl nervously, sparing a moment to turn in his seat and flicker his eyes towards Merle.

"Has to be a dream," Andrea guessed. She didn't want to say aloud what she suspected his dream to mean. A door with a light? The light that those who are dying see just before they pass on? If Merle was seeing that light, had come so close to walking through that doorway, they were running very short on time. How could he be hurt that bad? Or were all of his wounds collectively causing him to venture into death's realm?

"Daryl, please go faster," she murmured and Daryl obliged.

"That's it right there," exclaimed Glenn a few seconds later, pointing. In the dark, Andrea could hardly see the prison for what it was even with the headlights on bright, not that she tried very hard. She could care less about the prison's appearance.

"Honk the horn," she said as they neared the gate and as Daryl gave a few short blasts, the gate slid open, aided by someone Andrea couldn't quite see. It could have been Beth. Daryl brought the car right up to the main building still honking insistently and Glenn jumped out, nearly face-planting as he stumbled towards a caged door and disappearing through. Moments later he returned with Carl who, Andrea, saw, looked like a mini version of Rick just with longer hair.

"Hershel and Lori are setting up inside, so we'll have to move him," Glenn explained. "Carl will help in place of Andrea-,"

"I'm going to help," said Andrea strictly. "Carl can still lend a hand, but I'm perfectly capable of helping to lift."

"Fine, just hurry!"

Andrea gently pushed on Merle's shoulders as he continued to blab on about the light through the darkened doorway and Daryl, Glenn, and Carl lifted him as gently as they could out through the side door. Holding her side, Andrea hurried around to help them and the four of them awkwardly made their way inside with Carl kicking open doors with his heels until they arrived in a large cell block dimly lit by lanterns. A gurney which actually looked more like a food cart was set up and Hershel stood nearby on crutches with Lori acting as nurse as they set Merle down on top of the cart. Merle didn't help matters by trying to sit up to take in his surroundings and starting to shout as soon as Hershel attempted to check his wounds.

"Touch me again, old man, and I'll knock your blinkin' lights out, I ain't bullshittin'!"

"Hold him down!" said Daryl. "Merle, stop fightin' and stay still!"

Glenn and Carl held down Merle's left side with Hershel standing between them and Andrea took the right with Daryl. It didn't take all four of them to match his dwindling strength, but they did have to work hard to hold him absolutely still as Hershel set to work testing for broken bones, feeling, and poking. Merle called him a long list of foul names and Andrea wished she could slam a pot over his head to put him under again when suddenly Carl let go, ran over to Hershel's bag, and came back with a bottle labeled Chloroform.

"Guards might have used this on unruly prisoners," he said.

"That's not moral," said Lori slightly disapprovingly, but Hershel said, "It's just like anesthesia," and dumped a good portion onto a cloth, holding it over Merle's mouth and nose. Merle struggled, his eyes going wide briefly before they rolled into the back of his head and his head clattered onto the cart.

"Thank God," said Glenn under his breath.

Hershel singled out Andrea. "You look second worst in comparison to him, so you'll be next. Daryl can wait longer, but I need both of you to go find a cell and camp out until I'm finished here. I don't need your help; I've got Lori and Beth once Carl takes over for her and the others will be back soon. You two get some rest, get some food and water in you, and take it easy until I can see you. You'll only be in my way and there are some things I've gotta do that won't be pretty."

Andrea began to protest, but Daryl cut her off and steered her towards the staircase leading to the top row of cells. He didn't let go of her arms until he had successfully managed to place her on the bottom bunk in the cell furthest from the stairs. "Stay put," he commanded and whisked out the door, only to reappear with some medical supplies and a can of fruit. He dabbed at a cut over her eyebrow while she clumsily fed herself the fruit. It was sticky and it made a mess, but it tasted wonderful after two days of nothing. Sitting on a fairly soft mattress in a secured prison cell block with Daryl at her side tending to her smaller cuts was almost bliss.

But her thoughts never strayed from Merle on the floor below, lingering on the brink of the beyond.

Sorry for the delay everyone. I've had some things going on and no motivation to write because of them, if you know what I mean.