The tension between Carol and Tyreese was painfully obvious, but Nye didn't mention it. Choosing instead to hope that they could work things out between themselves.

And even though she was still regaining her strength, Carol made it clear to the brunette that they were leaving before nightfall.

Something bad had happened at the house, and Nye was hesitant to figure out what.

Lydia didn't say a word about it, clinging to Nye's side like glue, all while giving distrustful looks at Carol.

The brunette was only made more confused, when the girl randomly asked, "Who are Karen and David?"

Nye's throat made a sound similar to rubber against metal, as Lydia looked at her questioningly.

"Uh, they, um..." She shook her head, leaning further back into the couch, as they were sorting what supplies they could leave behind. "How do you know about them?"

Lydia closed her mouth firmly, looking edgily over to where Carol was in the kitchen, thankfully out of earshot.

"She... They were talking about them, last night."

Nye sighed, gazing out the window, where Tyreese sat on the porch, looking thoughtful. "Yeah. I'm not surprised. Poor guy, Karen was the love of his life. He was probably having nightmares or something."

Lydia jolted, a disbelieving look on her face, as she stared back over at Carol.

If Karen was his partner, and Carol killed Karen, than Tyreese should have killed Carol. Right?

Nye cluelessly continued emptying their bags, humming some obscure song to herself. Lydia watched her, finding that things kept getting more and more complicated, once you add sentiment into the mix.

Oh how disappointed Alpha would be in her, if she saw Lydia trying to match Nye's relaxed posture, and carefree smile.

...

"Terminus, huh?"

Tyreese nodded, hiking his bag further up his shoulder. "We saw a sign for it. We think the others went there."

Nye looked ahead, feet dragging only a little as they all walked down the train-tracks. She'd had an uneasy feeling in her gut, ever since she spotted the two fresh graves behind the house, as they were leaving.

"That's where Mason and Toby would go, if they saw it."

Lydia walked at her side, one hand on Samson's vest, and the other surprisingly in Nye's. "Daryl too?"

Carol who held Judith, and Tyreese glanced back, small and smug smiles being fought down by both of them.

Nye sputtered, taken off guard by the sudden mention of her redneck. "H-how do you know about Daryl?"

Lydia shrugged. "You were saying his name in your sleep." She said casually.

Face flushing a deep ruby red, Nye opened and closed her mouth robotically, seeming to have short-circuited.

Carol smiled up front, shaking her head at the brunette.

"Terminus!" Nye shouted hastily, changing the subject as she looked straight ahead, not meeting anyone in the eye. "How far is it?"

"Not too far. We'll probably reach it by tomorrow. If we keep walking." Carol answered.

The prospect of simply walking, after only now starting her recovery, made Nye have to bite back a whine. It didn't help that she was sure that Carol was going to give her a lecture on her self-care, any minute. The woman was probably just waiting for a moment alone with the brunette.

"Let's play a road-game, then." She proposed, a wicked smile on her face, for soon to be obvious reasons.

Carol glanced back, giving Nye a warning look. "Don't-"

"I spy with my little-"

"A tree."

Nye gaped at Carol, affronted. "How do you know I-"

"It's always a tree, Nye."

"You're wrong. I chose a rock one time."

Lydia looked back and forth between the women, watching it like a tennis match.

"Keep this up, and Judith's first words will be "I spy"."

Nye gasped theatrically, looking all too delighted at the notion. "Could you imagine! I would hold that over Rick's head until the day I die."

The ravenette looked to the ground moving at her feet, absently counting the planks of wood used to make the train-tracks. The normal volume the three adults had been using, was a stark contrast to how her previous group spoke. No longer were there breathy whispers, rasped between the Dead. Now there was just, talking. Mundane, and somewhat cheery even.

And Lydia was finding, that she liked it. A lot.

...

As Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Toby walked the road, they caught a thankful break.

A rundown, and dilapidated car sat parked to the side. Most of its doors were open, and it looked picked clean. But it was shelter.

A fire was started, of which they used to cook the rabbit they trapped and killed earlier. It was small, but it fed the four of them well enough. And by the time it was gone, it was dark. The fire their only light-source.

"You two, get some sleep. We'll be on first watch."

Carl hesitated, knowing his father wouldn't wake him and Toby up to switch out, and get any sleep. But exhaustion pulled at him, dragging him obediently into the car, after Toby.

He took the passenger seat, and Toby dove into the driver's side, falling asleep within seconds of getting seated.

Carl watched his father, and Michonne through the windshield, yawning as he tried to shrink into his jacket for more warmth.

While his eyelids started becoming heavy, he missed the shadows creeping in, on all sides.

He eyes closed, only for a few seconds. But that was all it took.

"Oh, dearie me."

Carl shot up, a chill going through him, that had nothing to do with the cold.

"You screwed up, asshole." He heard a man's muffled voice, outside the car, as he held a gun to Rick's temple. Another guy had his aimed at Michonne, kicking her sword away for good measure.

"You hear me? You screwed up."

Reaching blindly to his left, eyes on the two members of his family that were outside, Carl slapped Toby's shoulder. The freckled teen was a light sleeper, so he was up and alert by the second slap.

"Today is a day of reckoning, sir. Restitution. A balancing of the whole damn universe."

Toby swallowed his confusion at being awoken so suddenly, leaning forward in his seat as he and Carl watched, eyes wide and full of fear, as the new group of men gloated, while they held them at gunpoint.

A hand slammed on the passenger side window. A large man grinned at them, looking them up and down through the glass, with a sickening smile.

Toby pulled Carl closer. Eyes never leaving the deranged ones outside.

"Shit, and I was thinking of turning in for the night on New Year's Eve." The man standing over Rick said, jovial and eager to shed blood. "Now who's gonna count down the ball dropper with me, huh? Ten Mississippi! Nine Mississippi! Eight Mississippi!"

"Joe! Hold up!"

Toby's mouth went dry, as he shot his head to the left, looking out his window. A figure slowly, cautiously, walked by. Even in the shadows, Toby knew who it was.

"Daryl."

While it was likely impossible for the hunter to have heard Toby gasp his name, Daryl's eyes swept to his right, locking with Toby's.

A range of battling emotions shined through the hunter's gaze, concern and guilt were two of the most notable. But the strongest, was monumental relief, knowing that Toby was still alive, and that he found him.

But now, because of Daryl, they were all in trouble. He put Smalls in trouble.

"You're stopping me on eight, Daryl." Joe said, unamused.

"Just hold up." Daryl spoke breathlessly, watching the tense Rick and Michonne. Both of whom looked back at him in confusion.

It somehow hurt more, that there was no accusation in the way they were looking at him.

"This is the guy that killed Lou, so we got nothing to talk about." One of the men barked, glaring heatedly at Daryl.

Joe waved a hand carelessly at the man. "The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time." He nodded to the redneck. "Say your piece, Daryl."

Daryl took a deep breath, stepping forward a few inches as he looked imploringly at Joe. "These people, you're gonna let 'em go." There was an underline desperation in his voice, one that everyone could easily pick up on. "These are good people."

The windshield in front of Toby fogged, as his breath hitched in concern.

Joe shook his head minutely. "Now, I think Lou would disagree with you on that." He said with a mirthless smile. "I'll, of course, have to speak for him and all 'cause your friend here shanked him in a bathroom."

The freckled teen winced, imaginary blood warming his hands, as he looked back on thrusting those scissors into that man's chest. And now Rick was taking the fall.

Daryl's breathing got a tiny bit faster, as he could feel the situation slipping from his control. Though it was never really in his control in the first place. "You want blood, I get it." He dropped his crossbow and raised his arms at his sides, away from his weapons, as he surrendered himself. "Take it from me, man. C'mon."

Joe pursed his lips, not making a single move to take Daryl up on his offer. "This man killed our friend. You say he's good people? See, now that right there, i-is a lie."

With that one word, Daryl's arms dropped, chest rising harder as he was out of solutions.

"It's a lie!"

Several of the men swept in, charging at Daryl. The first to hit, rammed his shotgun butt into Daryl's stomach, causing the hunter to hunch over, coughing as the others joined in.

"Daryl!" Toby called, reaching to open the driver side door.

"Teach him, fellas! Teach him all the way." Joe called over the sound of pained grunts and flesh hitting flesh.

As Toby's hand closed around the door-handle, Carl's swung open. The large leering man reached in, pulling Carl out as the sheriff's son tried to fight him off.

"You leave him be!" Rick roared, attempting to stand, only to be forced back down.

Right after the large man moved away from the door, another took his place, grabbing onto Toby.

This one was grinning too, but not in the same way as the one holding onto Carl. Toby wrestled him futilely, as the man pulled him into a choke-hold.

Michonne watched the two boys, panicked. For a moment she moved on autopilot, reaching for her sword. But the man over her kicked her back.

"You'll get yours."

"Listen, it was me. It was just me." Rick said gravely, Carl's fearful cries making his blood sizzle under his skin.

"See, now that's right." Joe cheered. "That's not some damn lie. Look, we can settle this. We're reasonable men."

What he said next, though, contradicted that.

"First, we're gonna beat Daryl to death."

Toby wrestled harder, biting back a scream as Daryl was thrown against the car, the men not once letting up.

"Then we'll have the girl. Then the boys."

Something that sounded animalistic came from somewhere deep in Daryl's throat, as he tried harder to get through the ring of men, and towards his family.

"Then I'm gonna shoot you and then we'll be square." Joe said cheerily.

"Let them go." Rick whispered dangerously.

"Stop your squirming." The large man held Carl to the ground, cackling sadistically as he reached down for his belt.

"Let him go." Rick spoke again, with hellfire and brimstone lacing his words.

The men continued to beat Daryl. The men continued to hold them at gunpoint. The men continued to laugh, as Carl writhed under the bearded man on top of him.

The men continued to not understand who they had targeted.

Rick's head snapped back, breaking Joe's nose. His gun went off, inches from Rick's face, but the former sheriff's deputy did little more than give a shake of his head.

Rick got up, spinning around and hitting Joe's face, knocking him back.

The ringing in his ears, threw Rick off, and as a result, Joe was able to down him with one hit in return.

"I got him." He laughed it off, standing over Rick as he laid on his side. "Oh, it's gonna be so much worse now." He kicked Rick in his middle.

Toby clawed at the arms around his neck, nails catching on the bandage wrapped around the man's right forearm.

He hissed, tightening his hold, cutting most oxygen off from Toby.

As his vision started fading out, sound became dulled, and less coherent.

There was another gunshot, followed by a slap, and Michonne grunting. Daryl was still getting whaled on, going off of his own pained grunts and groans. All the while the group of men were still cackling.

"What the hell are you gonna do now, sport?" Joe asked rhetorically, a smirk clear in his voice.

A second later, there was a cut off shout, then gurgling.

Toby pried his eyes open, not remembering closing them, and looked on as Joe fell to the ground, holding his neck, where Rick had just bitten a chunk of skin off.

In an unspoken plan, Michonne used Rick's distraction, taking the wrist of the man above her, and aiming it up at his chin. Using his own gun to shoot, and kill him. Like a well oiled machine, Michonne turned and shot two of Daryl's opponents, leaving the redneck to easily dispatch the last two.

The bearded man on Carl slowly got up, quaking in fear. Seeing the blood covered face that looked on at him in quiet rage, he pulled Carl up with a knife to his neck as a hostage.

"I-I'll kill him!"

The man holding Toby backed up a few paces, as Rick, Michonne, and Daryl now all stood before them, clearly with no intent to show mercy.

"I'll-I'll kill him!"

"Let the boys go!" Michonne growled at the last remaining members of the twisted group, gun trained on the man holding Carl.

"He's mine." Rick breathed, almost appearing calm, if not for the blood dripping down his front.

"Stay back." He quivered, backing away from Carl finally, who ran into the waiting arms of Michonne.

He raised his hands, dropping the knife. "Stay b-ba- Please-"

Rick plunged his knife deeply into the man's stomach, methodically ripping it upwards, all the way to his coller-bone as he choked on his blood. The whole time, Rick held his face, making sure the monster looked him in the eye, through the entire process.

The one holding Toby watched, swallowing thickly as he realized his chances of leaving alive were slim.

Opening his mouth, he prepared to try and make some type of deal, but as the first syllable left him, a crossbow bolt pierced his face. Entering through his cheekbone, of all places.

His arms slackened, and Toby darted out of them, running straight past Rick, who was repeatedly stabbing the corpse of the man who terrorized Carl.

Daryl's aim was the best, so the odds of him missing, and hitting the man's cheek, were not likely. So that meant, he chose that spot. Because if he shot for the eye, the man would have died instantly.

This way, it was slower. The man got to suffer. And that was exactly what Daryl wanted.

The crossbow lowered, and Toby launched himself into the comfort of the redneck's hold.

Daryl clung onto the teen, allowing himself a moment to breathe. Even though Toby was trembling, and Mason was nowhere to be seen, he relaxed, gently rocking them both back and forth, hand on top of Toby's head, to keep his bucket-hat on.

"I got you, Smalls. You're okay."

Toby buried his face into Daryl's shoulder, sniffling noisily.

Daryl closed his eyes, head dropping down onto Toby's. The weight of the kid in his arm brought bone-aching comfort.

"I got you."

...

"It's clear."

Nye and Lydia walked into the abandoned house behind Carol and Tyreese. Samson ran in ahead of them, tail wagging erratically.

Carol stowed her gun away, taking Judith from the exhausted brunette.

Nye huffed, dropping herself down on a musty chair, fighting off a sneeze as the force of her fall kicked up a cloud of dust.

There was a bad feeling in her gut, putting her on edge.

"We'll stay here for the night." Carol delegated.

Nye hummed in contented agreement, sinking further into the plush chair. Setting her bags and weapons on the floor, she opened her arms and gestured for Lydia to come closer.

"C'mon Pup, you need sleep."

Lydia set down her own gear, and moved to lay on the floor. But Nye shook her head, with a faint smile.

"Sweetheart, we can share the chair."

After thinking on it, only for a few seconds, Lydia nodded meekly, climbing up onto Nye's lap.

The two got comfortable, curling up on each other. Lydia, being somewhere between six or eight, was able to easily fit on top of Nye with her small size.

The brunette watched as her amber eyes drooped, and slowly glazed over, as Lydia started falling asleep.

"You're good with her."

Nye looked to the other side of the room, head cocked questioningly at Tyreese. "How so?"

The broad man was sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall as he held Judith. Carol was outside on watch with Samson.

"She wouldn't tell us her name. Barely even talked to us, until you came too."

Reaching up and pulling her ponytail free, Nye closed her eyes as she tiredly massaged her scalp. Her other hand gently rubbed circles into Lydia's back.

"I'm the first person she's seen in awhile. It stands to reason, that she would get attached from me, being the only source of care and affection she's had."

Tyreese shook his head. "Nah, I think it has more to do than that."

Too tired to try and argue her point of view, Nye shrugged, deciding to get some rest.

But something plagued her in the back of her mind. A question she needed the answer to.

"What was in those graves?"

When Tyreese didn't answer, Nye cracked her eyes open, lips turned down grimly.

"They were new. Brand new. So, who was it?"

Sighing, Tyreese turned his head away, refusing to look at her. "I... You don't want to know."

Grinding her teeth, Nye glared. "My kids are missing, Tyreese. At least tell me it wasn't..." She paused, breathing unsteady. "...Just tell me who it was."

Blinking a few times, Tyreese stared at the hardwood floor, arms slowly stopping their rhythmic rocking. Judith suckled on her thumb, blissfully unaware.

"Carol doesn't want you to know."

"Tyreese." She barked lowly, nerves eating her alive. "If it's someone I know, I damn well deserve a fucking answer."

Moving his hand up to tiredly rub the heel of his palm into his eye, Tyreese bobbed his head in defeat.

"You're right, you're right." With a deep breath, he finally looked back up at her. "It... it was Lizzie and Mika."

A spear of nausea pierced her stomach, burning bile rising up higher, stopping right at her throat. Nye's head dipped downwards, eyes closed tight in frustration and mourning.

Tyreese watched her reaction carefully. "Carol didn't think we should burden you with-"

"Was it quick?"

Again, Tyreese didn't answer right away. Instead he reflected on the girls' past behavior, mainly Lizzie's. He could spin some lie about how the girls' deaths were painless, and over fast. But Nye didn't deserve to be kept from the truth. Not when she spent so much time with the two children.

"You remember... Do you remember back at the prison, how we started finding rats at the fence, like someone was feeding those things?"

Nye raised her head, eyebrows coming down as she nodded in confusion. "Yeah. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Everything." Tyreese said in a rough whisper. "It was Lizzie. She had it in her head, that the Walkers were just misunderstood. That they were like us."

Nye started shaking her head in denial, but had to face the mounting evidence that something had been wrong with Lizzie, for a long time. Nye had seen how she named them. How she sometimes cried when she watched people clearing the fence. How she had led the reanimated Henry away from Glenn, with a bright smile on her face.

Subconsciously tightening her arms around Lydia, Nye frowned apprehensively. "Why are you telling me this, Ty?"

He pursed his lips, knowing there was no delicate way to explain what happened.

"Lizzie got... worse. She would try to stop us from killing Walkers. And when Carol did kill one, Lizzie just... screamed at her, saying the Walker was her friend, and that it was just as bad as... if she killed Carol."

Nye winced, tapping her heel repeatedly as an outlet for her unease.

"Then what?"

Tyreese sighed again, exhausted in a different way than just simple tiredness.

"Lizzie wanted to prove that Walkers could be our friends. She wanted to show us, that after someone turned, we didn't have to kill them."

"...W-what did she do? Tyreese?"

He shook his head, looking up to the ceiling.

"She, uh..." He wavered. "...She killed Mika."

A hush filled the house, broken only by the even breathing of Lydia and Judith. Tyreese watched, as Nye stopped moving completely. Her chest stationary as she wasn't even breathing anymore.

The only thing keeping Nye from losing what meager amount of food that was in her stomach, was Lydia on her lap.

"After that, she pulled a gun on Carol, so she wouldn't "kill" Mika. She-" He stopped, still looking to be in disbelief. "She was smiling, Nye. She was covered in her sister's blood, and she was smiling."

Nye slapped the back of her wrist to her mouth, a low whine coming from her throat, as she swallowed back down acidic vomit.

"After that, we couldn't bring her with us to Terminus. So Carol suggested to go off alone with her, to keep her away from people. But, we both knew that, so long as she could, Lizzie was only going to get worse."

If she wasn't fighting tooth-and-nail to not puke all over Lydia, Nye would have begged him to stop.

"So Carol decided to... She though it would be safest if she..."

Nye shook her head harshly, knocking her goggles askew. She knew what he was about to say. She just knew. And she didn't, for the life of her, want to hear it spoken aloud.

"...Carol took her out into the field. And, she..."

"Ty." Nye squeaked through her hand, eyes shut so tight, it was starting to hurt.

But he didn't stop. He said exactly what she was dreading.

"It was quick. Lizzie didn't even know what was happening... It was quick. Carol made sure they didn't suffer."

In her horror-stricken state, Nye didn't even catch how Tyreese had said "they", instead of "she".

The only thing to bring her out of it, was Lydia shifting in her sleep, resting her head right under Nye's as the young girl sighed in contentment.

And as Nye started combing her fingers through the raven hair, she became extremely thankful, that her boys weren't with Carol and Tyreese.

She could wait to find them just a little longer, just as long as they were safe with others. And that those others, understood what made something a monster.

Ducking her head, Nye gave a kiss to the crown of Lydia's, closing her eyes softly this time.

On the bright side, once they got to Terminus, they hopefully wouldn't have to worry about the undead monsters any longer.

Nye comforted herself with that thought, finding the physical exhaustion enough to beat out her distress, as she started succumbing to sleep.

They would all come to find out, that once again, human monsters were far more dangerous than the dead ones.

I'm so excited to start up season five. It is by far one of my favorite seasons. And reaching it means we're one step closer to a huge milestone.

Let's just say, I haven't been giving you guys more insight on Paul for no reason, heh heh heh.

(The next chapter beats Sunshine in length. Reaching 12k words, whoop)