Aah, almost the last chapter. Damn. That means the end of a fanfic that took me almost four years to write. Crazy...

(Disclaimer; I do not own TWD)

Enjoy! ;)

Rick

Looking around our people, I see some who see the emergency in this situation. All the time we knew she was still out there, but we didn't think she'd be able to catch up to us after Terminus.

Well, not on her own at least.

"You said you knew what her intentions were" Michonne says, leaning over the table towards Morgan. My old friend hasn't moved an inch ever since we brought him inside our house for 'questioning'. Across from the table sits Deanna, whom I briefly informed what the situation was. Standing next to her, I can tell she doesn't seem to understand any of it, but then again; I can't blame her. Just the night before, her husband was killed.

Morgan nods shortly. "I did, and I also knew how to change her mind."

Michonne locks eyes with me for a second. We both call bullshit on that. No matter how innocent she looks, there's always something that triggers her insanity.

"What makes you say that?" Carol asks, who stands at the other side of Deanna. Carol seems the most tense out of everyone. She keeps fuddling with the end of her sleeve.

Morgan taps his index finger on the table. "I thaught her how to control herself. And she's been an excellent student so far-

"We also thought she had everything under control" Michonne interrupts, her voice trembling with anger, "until she knocked me out cold and ran off, while walkers were closing in on us."

I frown. She'd never told me the part of walkers getting involved. Typical, for both of them.

Morgan only nods slowly. "I think I read about that, yes. In her letter, I mean. That's a few hours before she tried to commit suicide."

I can see Deanna pouting her lips, which suggests she's having second thoughts. Morgan sees it too, and directs his next words at her. "She jumped off a cliff into a river, with a letter directed to everyone she'd ever hurt."

"That's easy to say" I mumble. Morgan doesn't take his eyes off Deanna, and I know he's trying to get through to her. I just hope Deanna doesn't forget we just got rid of one psycho. We can't have another one in here.

Deanna clears her throat, and all I can do is wait. "How would you say she's… 'recovered'?"

Morgan grins slightly. "I'd tell you that she's learned about the importance of defence opposite to offence. I thaught her nothing but defence, she's unable to hurt anyone unintentionally, which seemed to happen very often before I stumbled upon her. See…I went to something similar as her. I mean, Rick, you've seen what I was like."

I gulp. Of course I do, how can I forget. Seeing someone that strong in a devastated state of mind is something I'd never forget.

"Yeah" I reply.

Morgan nods. "I've come a long way since then, all because there was a person who could help me. I wanted to be that kind of person for Vicky, and I think I succeeded. She's protected me all the way to here, which to me sounds like more than a sympathetic person. She's recovered."

Deanna nods slowly while listening. "Would you say she might be an asset to this community?"

I freeze. Has she lost it? I can see Michonne thinking the same.

Morgan waits before answering, taking all his words into consideration. "I think it would be fair to give her a chance, yes."

Deanna folds her hands together. "A chance? Mister Jones, I don't think we're having this conversation to 'consider' giving this girl a 'chance' to enter our community. We're done giving people 'chances', unless they contribute to the community in some way. What would you say could be the one thing only this girl is able to give the community?"

I'm not sure what Deanna is planning. After all I've told the woman, she still considers every option, while the situation inside Alexandria isn't that dire. What is she doing?

Morgan smiles. "Well, I know something both Rick and Michonne here know as well."

I frown, and fee Deanna's turning to look at me. I myself look back at Morgan, because I have no idea what he's talking about. He only continues to smile mysteriously.

"The both of you might've seen bite marks on her body, ain't that right?"

I can see Michonne's getting nervous. She was the one person who told me Vicky was bit, but this was many weeks ago. Morgan told us he'd met up with Vicky about three weeks before, which should be impossible. She should've already turned by then, but she didn't. And I remember Daryl telling me the same thing; seeing bite marks that looked healed.

"I take that as a yes" Morgan continues, looking back at Deanna. "I think Vicky is somehow immune to the bite of a walker. Her contribution wouldn't only be to this community, but also the rest of the world. If I'm correct, you do have some medical personnel inside this community, correct? With Vicky's undamaged body, we might be able to find out more about the walkers."

Deanna gulps, and I know we lost the battle here. If it weren't Vicky, I would've brought the first person found immune to walker bites, in the second I heard about them. But this is her we're talking about.

"Yes" Deanna starts, "we do have medical personnel here. If what you say is true…I'll consider letting this 'Vicky' enter the community for the sole purpose of research."

All I can do is close my eyes in disgust. That damn Daryl. The one time he could've had a perfect shot, he misses.

Danie

"They've been in there for a long time, haven't they?"

"Yup."

"What do you think Deanna's gonna say?"

"I don't know, Dan."

"Do you think….do you think they'll let her in?"

"I don't know, Dan."

"What if they don't…do you think they'll kill her?"

"I don't know, Dan."

"Do you-Oh!"

Abraham stomps me on the head. "Shut your mouth-hole, man."

I rub over the back of my head. I get that everyone is nervous about this whole thing, but I don't really get all that. Before Vicky left, everyone was still cool around her. No one in particular besides Daryl wanted her dead.

I only heard a bunch of stories from others who bumped into her on the way here, and Vicky didn't seem that dangerous to me. I mean, it was always clear she disliked Daryl a lot, and I think Michonne had it coming. But I don't say that out loud.

The one I was asking the questions is Glenn. He can't sit still and keeps tapping his feet on the porch. Inside the house, Deanna, Rick, Michonne and Carol are deliberating with the new guy, Morgan. I only slightly remember him from a few months back. From when he was still insane. He's supposed to be all better now. Then he's come a long way from stabbing Rick to helping Vicky.

Glenn isn't the only one nervous. Abraham is freaking out as well, for some reason. He's never met Vicky in person, but he keeps locking eyes with Rosita, who rolls her eyes away from him, leaving Abraham helpless. I don't think they're on good terms or something.

Ever since we met up with the group again, after months of traveling alone, I couldn't possibly think all of us had survived somehow. Maybe thinking that was an understatement, because these people here knew what survival was all about. The only one who didn't happened to be my little brother. He travelled a long way with Glenn and Tara, and also with Abraham, Rosita and Eugene. They were all there when he died, and now, for some reason, feel like they have to take care of me in return. Especially Abraham, who pushes me to take some more shifts at the watch tower and also learn how to properly aim with a gun. I appreciate the gesture, but I know how it works.

Everyone who's ever dealt with Vicky, plus Abraham and Rosita, are here on the porch of Rick's house, but I think Abe and Rosita are here for me. The only ones missing are Daryl and Aaron. I believe Aaron is at home, but no one has a clue where Daryl is.

Apparently he's too embarrassed to show his face after missing a clear shot at Vicky, and letting her get away. Or he's still out trying to catch her again.

Finally, the door of the house opens. Everyone sitting down quickly stands up. Rick and Morgan are the first ones stepping outside. Rick's face stands grim, while Morgan seems kind of neutral. They look around the group, and the situation seems more and more awkward.

"Where's Daryl?" Rick asks no one in particular. No one replies instantly, although it's not a rhetorical question.

"We don't know" Glenn eventually says.

Daryl

Squatting down, I take a good look at the trail. It's almost unnoticeable, but she's not very good at covering her tracks. She knows I'm out to get her, and it would seem more likely for her to lead me directly to her. But this looks like she's desperately trying to run away.

Doesn't matter. I won't miss this time.

She's heading east, opposite from the community. I'm not sure if it's intentional, or she just doesn't know where the hell she's going. After I fired the shot, she was gone so quick I couldn't see if she saw where we were heading.

I couldn't leave Aaron alone with this Morgan-guy, and I wanted to go back out as soon as we were back in Alexandria. But apparently Rick killed a guy and Deanna's husband was dead and shit was going down. I lost an entire night to that shit.

When all was good again, I made sure I was the first one at the gate. Neither of Sasha and Abraham was standing guard, which worked in my favour. I couldn't have them asking questions as to where I was going.

I hear something moving behind me. I lay down flat in the leafs, then look over my shoulder. No walkers, maybe a small animal.

Standing up again, I suddenly see something red. There she is, finally. She stopped running.

As silent as possible, I manage to get closer. She's sitting against a tree, writing something down on a paper. As If I'd ever find her doing anything but that.

Leaning with my elbow on the ground, I can get a clear shot.

Dear Jenny,

I heard you died, which is a real bummer. I was actually hoping we could somehow meet up again and, well, I dunno, chat? Do fun stuff, you know.

Grumpy didn't tell me the exact details, but just looking at his face I know it was something you didn't deserve. He's absolutely devastated, and I don't think that ever since you were gone he's even slept a single night.

Well, why should I care? That's probably what you're wondering right now, why do I bring this up? I just want you to know that he clearly misses you. And I do too, kind of.

Why is that? Here's the thing; I had a dream last night, about you and me. We were both at this weird grey building, with lots of dark and scary halls with cells in them, which is why I thought it was a prison. I'm not sure why I would dream about us two going to prison, but oh well. We weren't really inmates or anything, it actually looked more like we were somehow living there.

We were sitting at this strange-looking picnic table, talking and laughing about things which happened before the walkers came. It was a really cool dream, don't you think?

And for some reason, I feel like the conversation in my dream was the kind of thing I wished to do again. Perhaps the dream wasn't just a dream, but a memory. If it is, I will cherish this memory forever. You might've been the only real friend I've ever had in this entire world.

So it sucks that you're gone, Jenny. Sorry, I know that's not your real name. You're Beth Greene, daughter of Hershel Greene and a sister to Maggie Greene. Yeah, I know you. But only you. These names are engraved into my memories, but I don't know the faces that belong to them. They're nothing but words, which is why I prefer to keep calling you Jenny. To me, Jenny used to be my favourite teacher in middle school, the only person I really liked. In this apocalypse, you were the new Jenny.

Funny thing, isn't it? How words can have different meanings to everyone. To me, 'Jenny' sounds special. 'Grumpy' is the kind of person I find annoying, but can be funny sometimes. 'Cowboy' is a boy stuck in a world to great for him to handle, he'll always be just a boy somewhere, but he tries. 'Sword Lady' is a strong woman I look up to and want to learn from.

This doesn't mean that the people I don't give special names aren't important to me. If I call them by the names given to them by their parents, it means they try to cling to the life they had before all this, and because of that they're lost. They don't know who they are themselves, what their place is in this world, or what they're doing.

But you knew.

Now that you're not around anymore, I need to find a new Jenny. Sorry, but you can't wear that title if you're dead.

But you'll always be the second Jenny of my life.

Much love,

Vicky