*** Told ya I'd come back! Trust me, not posting again yesterday felt as weird to me as it did to you haha, anyways - Enjoy! *** I OWN NOTHING - except Linney!

As the tufts of hair fell into the sink, he tried to redirect his thoughts, redirect his guilt. I had no choice, we weren't both gonna make it out. He skimmed his skull down to a low buzz and admired the effect in the mirror. The torn patch was well camouflaged, but he couldn't hide the deep grooves that lined his face; his expression refused to lighten and he felt certain that anyone could tell just by looking at him that he was a murderer.

We couldn't both make it home. It was one of us or neither of us. He glared hard into his dark eyes, his reflection doing nothing to help him understand his feelings. Carl had to live, he had to survive, it was a choice, the only choice.

Shane flung the electric razor back into the bathroom drawer and cleaned his hair up from the sink, glancing every now and then back into the mirror. They'll know, they'll know, they'll know. He slammed his hands against his head several times, hard, trying to clear the guilty thoughts from his mind, replace them with more pleasant thoughts: Lori smiling at him, laying next to a pale, sick Carl, telling him he was welcome to stay, her words sounding like so much more than just an invitation to sit with her.

Tossing the last handful of dark hair into the garbage can, Shane examined his face again, his clenched jaw creating hard planes under his tan skin. I had no choice, Carl had to live, and one of us had to die to make that happen.

He walked to the door, reaching out to slap his hand over the light switch. Just before he threw the little room into darkness, he glanced back and saw his wide-eyed, guilty expression in the mirror.

But why did you get to choose who had to die?

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Carol's low, keening, cries were loud enough to be heard from the roof. Dale shifted uncomfortably in his lawn chair atop the RV and stared out at the dark mass of cars jumbled around them. He briefly considered going inside and asking her to keep it down, tell her that if he could hear her grief, than any nearby walkers might as well.

He didn't get up though, just continued to stare out at the road, his mind flashing chaotically with images of the last few days. Sophia, Carl, T-Dog, Linney... we're dropping like flies, we need to settle, stop this, we can't afford to lose any more people. His tired heart ached further when he thought about the little girl, huddled terrified in the woods, or worse. He couldn't believe that in less than two weeks, they'd lost so many people, not just the ones in the past couple of days, but the people at camp, the Morales family.

How do you continue when you are powerless to stop those you love from being pulled away? The dim, familiar ache for his wife invaded his chest and he had to consider that the same notion was true even before the world ended. He could hear movement inside the RV, and wondered if Daryl and Andrea were able to get any sleep. He was certain that he wouldn't be able to, which was why he volunteered for watch, wanting to allow the others to sleep after their long trek through the woods today, the horror of learning Carl was gravely injured, and watching Linney nearly lose her life to a freak accident.

Is anything with a walker an accident? He grumbled, clearing his throat. Perhaps a natural accident? Dale got to his feet and stretched his sore back. The walkers were definitely turning into forces of nature. An unavoidable part of living now was grappling with the dead.

Dale jumped a little when the RV door banged open and someone stepped outside. He walked to the edge and looked down to see Dixon adjusting his crossbow across his back. The man looked bone-tired, and Dale felt certain that he must be worried sick about Linney; although you could never tell by looking at him, and you would never find out by asking. Unless you wanted a strip torn off you.

"I'm gonna walk the road," Daryl said, his voice low and gruff, barely traveling up to the roof, "You know, look for the girl." Dale nodded and then Andrea stepped out behind Daryl, barely glancing up at Dale, her face set with angry determination.

"Gonna shine some light in the forest. If she's out there, it'll give her somethin' to look at," Dixon continued, gesturing with his flashlight towards the dark woods. Dale nodded, deciding it was a waste of breath to mention the risk of shining a light around; that it might serve as a beacon, drawing in walkers.

"I'm going with him," Andrea said, her voice and face so defiant that Dale felt a pang of worry. He gestured to her, "Do you think it's a good idea to go with him?" Andrea glared up at him and said only his name in reply, her voice dripping with condescension and fury.

Dale swallowed and looked away, watching as they picked their way down the highway. He understood the need to help, to protect the most vulnerable member of their group, and, in Daryl's case, divert his mind. But he worried about Andrea's motivations. She was so angry with him. Dale sighed, leaning back in his chair. He supposed she had a right to be, he just wished she could see the depth of his worry for her, the depth of his affection; she and Amy were the daughters he'd never had. Losing Amy tore at him daily, and the thought of losing Andrea as well made him feel light-headed and sick.

At least she's out there with Dixon, that man has proven to be more useful than I ever gave him credit for.

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Linney woke the next morning and found that her injuries didn't hurt nearly as sharply as the day before. She sat up slowly, taking an inventory on her body. Left arm: throbbing, aching pain around wound, but otherwise ok. Right Hand: stiff, sore, dull ache. Left hip: deep throbbing pain and slight burning around the wound, but nothing severe. Left calf: bright pain, aching shallowly.

All in all, not too bad, coulda been worse, coulda been eaten. She shuddered at the thought and slid herself out of bed, moving slowly and carefully. When she made it to the bathroom on her own, she wanted to cheer, but felt pretty certain that the movement might cause more hurt.

Back at the bed, she saw clean clothes laid out on the quilt. Maggie, thank you, she thought gratefully, as she picked up the capri pants made of soft sweatpants material. Linney moved carefully, managing to get them on without too much pain. She smiled when she realized why Maggie had lain them out for her, they sat high, on her waist, rather than her hips. Still too big, though, Linney sighed, fiddling with the drawstring. The tank top laid out for her was pink and Linney made a face at it, not being a fan of the color, but pulled the soft cotton shirt on, sniffing deeply at the fresh, clean smell.

She paused and sniffed her armpit. Too bad I'm so gross, she lamented. Linney ran her tongue over her fuzzy teeth and decided that she would at least brush her teeth. She hobbled over to her back pack and found a toothbrush, pausing to quickly swipe on some deodorant, before using furniture to help her make an easier trip back to the bathroom. Her eyes scanned the counter and couldn't find any toothpaste. She slid open a couple of drawers, feeling like a horrible snoop, but smiled when she found the big tube of toothpaste.

Brushing her teeth turned out to be a wonderful luxury that she drew out for almost 5 minutes, reapplying the paste halfway through. She slid the toothpaste away, back into the same drawer and stared at the item tucked into the back. I did say I'd do it first chance I got. She yanked the scissors out, snipping them experimentally in her hands. Linney's eyes darted up to her reflection and she flinched, dropping the scissors in the sink with a huge clatter.

"Oh my god, I'm hideous!" She cried, her voice alarmingly loud in the small porcelain room. Her face was filthy for starters, smeared with greasy looking dirt, but also had dried blood all over her cheeks. She was unable to find a single patch of her own skin color anywhere, except around the small bandage on her forehead, from where she'd smacked her head on something during her tumble down the embankment.

Linney sighed and reached out for the face cloth hanging with the towel next to the sink. She turned on the hot water, relishing in the feeling for a moment, before washing her face, moaning into the towel at the steaming heat coming off it. When she met her reflection again she was startled by the girl she saw. Clean, yes, but with slightly more hollow cheeks than she was used to having, still sporting the same dark circles under her eyes, with a few added bruises thrown around for good measure.

God, I'm hot - Daryl's a lucky man. She chuckled a little and then started to clean her neck, rubbing up into her hairline. Her eyes darted over to the shower and she slowly pulled a tiny twig from her hair. I could totally wash my hair, she thought excitedly, moving to the bathtub so quickly that she hissed at the pain in her hip. The shower head detached from the wall and after awkwardly balancing on her good hip she got the water going and started to wash her hair, mindful of the bandage on her forehead. When she was done she turned the shower off reluctantly and wrapped a towel around her hair, relishing the clean smell of the fruity shampoo.

Linney looked around and realized she'd destroyed the tiny, clean bathroom. There were dirty fingerprint smears all around the sink, toothpaste on the faucet, scissors on the counter, a dirty facecloth on the toilet seat, and water all over the floor. How the hell did I manage that?

She looked for another towel, but realized she had the only one in her hair. Grimacing, she let her wet hair fall all over her shoulders, making the shirt damp, and dropped the towel on the ground, stepping onto it. She began to boogie back and forth a little, trying to wipe up the water that way, jerking with each twist of her hip, saying "Ow, fuck!" in a soft voice every time her hip stitches pulled a little.

"I ain't sure exactly what I'm lookin' at right now." She heard Daryl's voice and her head shot up, to see him leaning against a dresser in the bedroom, watching her awkward, shuffling boogie and murmured curses with something like amusement.

She frowned at him, gesturing at the door. "Don't you knock?" He raised an eyebrow at her and walked into the bathroom, looking around. "Not on the regular, no," he answered, putting a hand on her back and pushing her gently out of the bathroom. He led her to the bed where she sat, tilted onto her right side, to avoid her hurt hip. She watched him go back into the bathroom and squat down, using her towel to wipe up the floor.

"I could get used to this view," she said to him and he glanced over his shoulder, glaring at her. "I told ya once, you was a perv, glad to see I was right." She smirked at him and waited for him to turn around and go back to wiping at the floor before adding, "No, not your ass. I meant you, cleaning." He spun around and looked at her in irritated disbelief, before getting to his feet and chucking the towel behind him, into the shower.

"Oh, that's it little girl, ya'll are gonna get it now."

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He heard giggling coming from Linney's room when he knocked on the door, fairly certain he'd find Daryl in there. Only three people make that girl laugh like that, and Carl's in bed, and Glenn is outside with Maggie. Sure enough, a moment later, the door cracked open and Daryl stood in the doorway.

"Morning, Hershel's got some breakfast out if you all are interested," Rick said, a smile on his weary face. Daryl nodded, displaying his customary tight expression. He shut the door immediately in Rick's face and he had to chuckle, hoping they were at least being careful with all of her injuries.

A few moments later they emerged from the bedroom and Daryl half carried and half walked Linney into the dining room. The girl looked much cleaner, although somewhat weaker than normal. Younger too, he thought, confused. When he saw her smiling over her cup of coffee, the way Carl smiled over chocolate milk, he realized that it was her pink, frilled neck shirt and lack of weapons that made her look more vulnerable. Make a note not to mention pink makes her look sweet, not if I want to keep my head on straight. Rick laughed to himself and then smothered it when Shane walked in, his face hard and frightening with the newly shaved head.

He watched his friend sit across from him, his eyes fixed on the plate of food in front of him. He's taking Otis' death so hard, Rick thought, his heart aching for his friend. He gave Shane a smile, sincere and warm, when his dark eyes glanced up from the food.

"How's the foot this morning?" He asked and Shane shrugged, shoving a forkful of egg into his mouth. Rick glanced over at Linney and Daryl again, his brow tightening when he saw the look on her face. Really need to figure out what's happening with them, he thought, concerned with the mixture of anger, fear, and distaste she wore.

Hershel sat next to Linney, introducing himself and chatting easily with her about her injuries and what he'd done to help her, brushing off her earnest thanks and Daryl's stark, hard, gratitude.

"How's Carl?" She finally asked, looking up to Rick, her eyes hopeful. Rick nodded at her and replied, "He's doing much better, Hershel says he's stable, and if he pulls through today, he should be in the clear." Rick swallowed at the look of nearly painful relief on her face and again felt a wash of gratitude to have found such good people to help him protect his family.

"Hershel, I can't thank you enough for what you've done, not just for my boy, but for all my people." The old man smiled and nodded gently at him, "I'm glad to be of some help."

Rick turned to Shane and reached a hand out, to tap the table between them. "Shane, you know, you know how much..." his voice failed him and he gave his friend a smile so laden with gratitude that he felt like he might cry. Shane only nodded, the haunted look returning to his face, before he pushed to his feet and stalked outdoors, limping slightly.

"Can I go see him?" Linney asked, pushing herself up carefully. Rick nodded and she grinned at Daryl before hobbling away from the table, her movements awkward from her varied injuries. She paused a couple steps away and then turned back and addressed Hershel, "Um, where do I go?"

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"Hey Lori," Linney said softly, poking her head into the room. She managed to smile at Lori for a moment, before her eyes caught on Carl's prone figure and her expression crumpled.

"Oh god, Carl," she whispered, limping into the room. Lori got to her feet, "Sweetie, sit in a chair please, you'll make me nervous standing there hurt like you are." Linney smiled at her and nodded. "Yes, ma'am," she joked lightly, and was rewarded with a small smile from the dark haired woman.

Linney sat in the small armchair, and stared at Carl, her eyes filling up with irritating tears that she roughly brushed away. She leaned forwards and picked up his small hand, unhappy with how cool and clammy he felt. He's so pale, she thought, feeling sick. She wanted to pick him up and run him out of the still, dim, room that smelled like sickness and fear, take him somewhere safe and happy. Linney glanced over at Lori and saw the woman staring down at her son, her eyes still heavy with worry.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Linney murmured, rubbing the back of Carl's hand with her thumb. Lori looked up at her and gave her a small, sad smile.

"Maybe this isn't a world for children anymore," Lori said softly, her eyes drifting back to Carl's nearly translucent skin. Linney felt a ripple of fear go down her spine at the absolute hopelessness in the other woman's voice.

"Carl is here, Lori, he's not dead, and Sophia is out there, we just have to find her."

"Well maybe they shouldn't be, maybe this is how it's supposed to be." Linney swallowed hard and squeezed Carl's hand gently, thinking back to his earnest questions about heaven. She shook her head and put his hand back down on the bedspread.

"Bullshit, you can't mean that." She replied, her eyes narrowing. Lori shrugged lightly and got to her feet, walking to the window, staring out at the sun drenched yard.

"How can that thought even cross your mind with him laying here, fighting so hard to live, to come back to you?" Linney felt her chest constrict, wanting to leap to her feet and smack Lori, smack some sense into her. She flinched when Lori spun around and marched over to her, leaning her arms angrily against either side of the armchair, bending towards Linney.

"It didn't just cross my mind, I can't stop thinkin' it!" Lori's dark eyes were narrowed and furious and Linney couldn't help cringing back from her a little. "Why do we want them to live in this world? To have this life? So they can see more people torn apart in front of them?"

Lori stepped back and began pacing, a hand held to her head in frustration. Linney opened her mouth to reply and Lori turned to her again, pointing angrily at her, "So they can be hungry and scared for however long they have before they..." She broke off as her voice choked up and she looked down at Carl, her face tearing itself apart, between fear, anger, and worry.

"So that they can run and run and run and run, to survive. So that they end up just another animal who doesn't know anything except how to survive." Lori started to cry angry, bitter, tears and Linney got to her feet and limped to her, wrapping her aching arms around the crying woman. Lori bent into the hug, her face burying into Linney's damp hair.

"If he dies, it ends for him. Tell me how it would be better another way!" Lori cried, into Linney's hair and all she could do was hug her. "He wouldn't have to be afraid anymore, hurt anymore."

"I know it's like we live with a knife at our throats, every second of every day, but Lori, you can't think it's over, that it's hopeless." She pushed the grieving woman off her and put her good hand on her thin shoulder, squeezing tightly. "He asked me if I wished this was all a dream the other day, Lori, and he agreed that he was happy it wasn't." She shook Lori back and forth slowly, "He wants to live here Lori, wants to be here with whoever is left and live. That's enough for me, and it has to be enough for you." Lori nodded once her eyes tearing up.

"Can you sit with him for a bit, Lin? I need to..." She gestured vaguely at the door and Linney nodded, moving back to her chair, "Go, I've got this, I miss spending time with him." Lori smiled and left the room and then Linney sank awkwardly to the floor, reaching up to the bed to hold his hand while resting her face against the mattress.

She thought about the little boy fighting in the bed above her, his enjoyment over the small things, his smile, his bright eyes, and she cried a little, her entire body burning with hope that he would come back to them.