Stretched ahead of them was a seemingly endless road. The heat making a thin mirage down before them, always out of reach. No running cars, they had long since burnt the last of the gas out, and still a long ways to go. Rick had told them that the plan was to still make it to Washington, which was almost a hundred miles away.

Nye kept her gaze on the ground, her clothes stained red from what had happened the day previous. The sticky feeling of blood caked her shirt against her body, but she ignored it dully, knowing the rest of her was just as stained.

She could still vividly feel the way Tyreese's arm weighed in her hands, limp and going cold.

Taking a look over her shoulder, she watched who walked in the back of the group, hoping to avoid everyone else's questions and worried looks.

But everyone knew that, after what happened, things were looking even grimmer.

...

Noah's young brother, now long dead, dropped to the floor after he gave it a sturdy blow to the head. The Walker ceased moving, Tyreese's still warm blood dripping from its mouth.

Slumped against the wall and sliding down, Tyreese held his left arm, where a chunk was now missing.

"Get Rick!" Nye ordered shrilly to Noah, immediately removing her belt to make a tourniquet. Kneeling next to the man, she fastened it on tightly while Noah ran to do as told.

"You're okay. You're okay. You're..." Nye trailed off, blinking away the way her vision warped at the sight of his bite.

Tyreese gasped and panted in agony, looking down with a terrible fixation on the visible muscle and tendons revealed by the chunk missing.

"I-I'm no-not gonna-"

"Shut up! Shut up right now!" Nye nearly screamed, ripping off her flannel and holding it to his arm, her crossbow tossed aside when she got the article off. "Think about Sasha! She just lost Bob, she's not losing you!"

Tyreese groaned softly, much paler than even seconds ago. His eyes fluttering shut, either from the pain or shock, he didn't see another Walker approach. Both had let their guards down, forgetting that the door had been left wide open, vulnerable to anything that might come their way.

A high pitched snarl was all her warning. Whipping around, Nye had to release Tyreese's arm and instead wrestle to keep the tall male Walker off of her. Things could have been handled quickly, but as her hand reached for her pistol, it came up empty. In her haste to get off her belt, the gun must have fallen out.

Having been crouched low to the floor, the Walker had a severe height advantage, and was able to knock her down onto her back. Above her it snapped its jaws, leaning in much too close for comfort. Giving a short scream, she kicked up at it with wide eyes. The commotion finally enough to have Tyreese manage to crack open his eyes.

With a mighty push, she finally got the surprisingly strong Walker off, scrambling away from it as it tried regaining its balance. As she was in the midst of frantically looking over the toy scattered floor for her gun, she was caught off guard when a gunshot rang out.

Her head shot up, looking through her messy bangs at Tyreese, who on shaking legs held her pistol, aimed at where the Walker now laid on the floor. His left bleeding freely, he lowered his right arm and dropped her prized gun to the floor, following it soon after.

"Ty!" She screamed, crawling over to him and pushing his unconscious body over onto his back.

He was sweating, and his breathing was labored and slow. Shaking her head stubbornly, Nye knew if they didn't get rid of the infected bite now, it would be too late. She didn't want to believe it was already past the point of no return.

"You'll be okay. You'll be okay." She whispered thickly, reaching for the big knife he kept on his belt. "Hold on for me. Hold on so I can get you back to Sasha."

Holding the knife right under his elbow, she swallowed back the memory of blood dancing on the back of her tongue, from the last time she tried to save someone.

"D-don't die." She breathed, eyes burning with the itch of tears. "That's your only job."

She moved to press the blade down, but she froze, barely catching what left his mouth.

"'ll do m' best..." He sighed, words slurring and eyes still closed.

Nye barked a shocked and hopeful laugh, sniffling harshly as she nodded strongly. "Good."

Further into the house, a door slammed open, thundering footsteps rushing towards her and Tyreese.

"Nye!?"

Rick ran into the room, looking from her, to Tyreese, to the Walkers, and back at her.

Arms covered in blood, Nye dropped the knife, looking up at them pleadingly.

"Help me."

Acting much faster than she ever expected, in matter of seconds she was holding tightly onto Tyreese's arm along with Glenn. Both holding it out away from his body, as Michonne took her sword and raised it high.

"You hold him!"

"I got it!"

"Go! One hit, clean!"

Clenching her eyes shut, all Nye felt was the way his arm went limp, as warm blood splattered across her face.

Tyreese watched them through cracked eyes, not grasping what was truly going on, as he had a muddled encounter with ghosts only he could see. While Beth, Bob, and Lizzie and Mika were telling him it was okay, that it was better to just let go, The Governor And Martin were there too, telling him what a coward he was, and that this was the easy way out.

Carrying him out of the house and through the neighborhood was easily the hardest part. He was the biggest person in the group, weighed down by dense muscle. Rick and Glenn worked together to hold him upright while everyone else cleared the path in front of them.

Nye's fingers were slicked in blood, but her aim never faltered as she took headshots at the Walkers in their way.

Breaking the chain on the gate, Rick passed Tyreese off to Noah while he and the rest took out out the dozen or so Walkers that had been pressed up to the gate hungrily after hearing the gunshots.

"Stay with us, now. Stay with us!" Rick yelled as he and Glenn took him back, taking on the challenge of getting him through the rope weaved between the trees. The once considered helpful trap now became an immeasurable burden.

Glenn hopped into the car first, grabbing and pulling Tyreese's bottom half into the back while Rick pushed him in the rest of the way. Everyone got into the car in record time, Nye and Glenn keeping Tyreese upright in the backseat. Rick whipped out the walkie, holding it to his mouth as he started the car.

"Carol, we're at the car! We need to cauterize the arm and wrap it. Get Sasha and the kids away. They don't need to see this!"

Nye took what was left of his arm and tightened the tourniquet, ignoring the puddle of blood it subsequently spilled into her lap, and rewrapped her flannel around the end of the stump, trying to keep anymore blood from leaving him.

"Glenn!"

He didn't need to be told what to do, he just silently rushed to help her hold the stump tightly. Their hands working together to make the barrier between the exposed flesh and outside air that Tyreese now lacked.

Flooring it, the wet ground gave away under the back tires, leaving the car stationary. "Come on, come on, come on, come on!" Rick growled and he switched the gear to forward instead. The car shot ahead, hitting the wreck they had parked by. As they hit the abandoned moving truck, it busted the back door open, letting what was inside tumble out onto the hood of their car.

Dozens of limbless torsos showered on them, smearing browning blood over the windshield. They snarled at the horror-struck group, wiggling around as best they could, with Ws carved deeply into their foreheads.

"Rick." Nye called, eyes locked with a pair of dead ones.

"Yeah." Rick muttered, barely audible, as he reversed the car and steered them out of the woods and back onto the road.

As they sped down the road, Nye kept her eyes on Tyreese's chest, the way it still rose and fell, despite it being slow.

With chapped lips, he broke the silence with a feeble whisper.

"Turn it off."

Everyone shared worried and confused looks, unable to hear what he was hearing. After a few seconds, Nye cleared her throat and smiled at him the best she could.

"Okay Ty, we'll turn it off. You just gotta stay awake though, okay?"

Tyreese slowly looked at her, but there was something in his eyes that made her believe it wasn't really her he was seeing. But he nodded slowly, and she took a bit of comfort in that.

"I'm sorry." Noah whispered to everyone, head hung low as he blamed himself for what had transpired. "I-I am so-"

"Don't." Nye snapped. "Don't apologize yet. You can say it to him later."

Whether Noah actually believed Tyreese would make it, or he just didn't want to argue, he went quiet.

At the long drive ahead, and the small amount of medical supplies they had left, Nye tried ignoring the odds, in favor of hoping beyond hope that maybe she could really make a difference this time, and save the life of someone she cared for.

...

"Mom."

Nye hummed absently back at Toby, eyes straight forward. She rubbed her fingers together, still feeling the residue of blood left on her hands.

He pursed his lips, wrapping his hand around her arm to get her attention. Mason stood back as he watched, close enough to catch the hushed question Toby hurled at her.

"Why haven't you cried?" He demanded to know, concerned as she blinked blankly at him.

Looking over her shoulder, back at where Maggie walked, then where Sasha trudged slowly behind the rest, she clicked her jaw sadly. Turning back to her boys, she smiled pitifully.

"I can't. Not yet."

Toby scowled, while Mason only frowned, not understanding what she meant.

Breaking her arm out of his grip, Nye slowed to walk by Sasha in the back, looking her over worriedly.

"You doing alright?"

Sasha scoffed, masking a sniffle. Lips upturned in a bitter smile, she shrugged stiffly. "What do you think?"

Nye didn't say a word, only dragged her eyes to Sasha's left.

Walking next to her was Abraham, the strongest man in the group, physically at least. In his hands he gripped the leather handles of a rusted wheelbarrow they miraculously found.

Under a blanket, and resting in the the wheelbarrow, was the sleeping form of Tyreese.

Nye gave Sasha an apologetic look, gently reaching over and tucking Tyreese's right arm back across his torso so that it didn't dangle over the edge anymore.

Sasha shook her head, taking a deep breath to calm down. "No, I'm sorry. I just-" She trailed off, voice cracking. "I just can't lose him."

Nye braced a hand on the small of her back. "You won't. I promise."

Sasha watched Tyreese sleep soundly, no longer as pale as he had been the day before. "And I have you to thank for that."

Nye's small smile dimmed, and she looked to the ground instead of meeting Sasha's gaze. "Yeah... well it was a long time coming."

With her eyes casted at the ground, Nye spotted a small shadow a few feet in front of her. Watching the way it wobbled made her grow concerned. With a quick soft spoken few words to Sasha, Nye left her to approach the owner of the shadow.

"Pup?"

Lydia looked up at her wearily, fingers playing with the fraying ends of her jacket. Nye put the back of her hand to the girl's forehead, feeling how hot she was, as if the flushed face covered in sweat wasn't enough to go off of.

"Hun, you're burning up. Why don't you take off that jacket."

Lydia jumped, holding her arms closer to her body. And with her own history, Nye could tell what this was about. Steeling herself, Nye started to take off the pull-over she borrowed from Glenn after her flannel was beyond ruined by Tyreese's blood. The sweat lined skin prickled with goosebumps as it met the air, and while she tied the pull-over around her waist, she could hear Lydia gasp quietly.

The girl had yet to see the state Nye's right arm was in, and was left to take it in with a stunned silence.

Nye timidly ran her hand down her right arm, looking at and feeling the raised, and the sunken skin of her scars. Giving a reassuring look to the girl, Nye motioned to help get her jacket off.

Still hesitant, Lydia reluctantly let Nye unzip it, and pull her arms out. Like the brunette, she shivered when it came off.

Lydia's arms were worse than Nye's. Thin strips of pale skin littered them, crisscrossing from her shoulders all the way down to her wrists.

Nye's right hand carefully slipped into her left, interlocking their fingers together securely. Swinging their arms gently, Nye gave her hand a squeeze.

"See, nothing to worry about."

...

Forty miles. A whole forty miles they had travelled in the span of three weeks. Only for some of it were they fortunate enough to have some shade casted by thick clouds. The pace they set was slow, it had to be, for Tyreese's sake. Said man was quiet for the most part ever since he was able to keep conscious, usually only ever sharing whispered words with Sasha. No one pressed him for how he was feeling, he had lost the bottom half of his left arm after all.

Surprisingly it was Lydia who was ever able to talk to him and get steady responses. Her own experience with having to always move forward, despite injury, was one that helped her understand Tyreese's feelings a bit better.

When supplies ran dangerously low, Maggie and Tyreese weren't given any instructions, but they both were strong enough to pick themselves up and help find anything useful.

The group dispersed into the woods, hoping to find food and water. They only had a bottle left, and it wasn't even full.

Maggie went with Glenn, Carol, Sasha and Tyreese. Abraham went with Rosita, Tara, and Noah. Rick went with Michonne, Carl, and of course Judith. Nye took Mason and Toby with her to try and find edible mushrooms or plants. Samson stayed by the road-side, with Eugene and Gabriel. The Saint Bernard laid in the sun, panting and looking nothing like a guard dog at all.

Daryl went off on his own, but wound up with a certain someone sheepishly following him. Keeping a wide enough distance, Lydia watched as Daryl kicked at the ground in random spots, until he found one good enough and plopped down. Getting to work digging, he didn't bother looking up at Lydia as she sat down a few feet away. To her it was obvious what he was doing, so she moved quickly to follow his lead.

He was the first one to find any, but Lydia caught up fast with her own handful of worms.

While Daryl unflinchingly ate the ones he found, Lydia glanced up questioningly.

"Shouldn't we save these, so Nye can fish?"

Daryl finally looked at her. Chewing, he shook his head. "Nah, ain't nowhere for her to catch anythin'."

Lydia nodded, supposing that was true. Taking two worms, she dropped them in her mouth. After chewing them for a few seconds, she went right back to digging in her own hole. The whole time she missed the way Daryl watched her.

"Where'd she find you?"

Lydia paused, then shrugged timidly. "Was hiding in a tree."

Daryl looked her over, noting just how small she was, and how young she must be. But his eyes lingered on the scars marring her arms. "You lose your group?"

Biting her lips, Lydia brushed away her tangled hair. "Kinda." After looking back on the way the Whisperers did things, and how Nye told her about what a group was supposed to be, Lydia shrugged weakly. "...Not really. Nye said they weren't a good group. Said that one should be a family, not... what they were."

Leaning back from her hole, Lydia looked at everything but Daryl. "...She promised she'd keep me safe. No one's said that since my Daddy died."

Daryl softened, sitting up as he brushed his hands off slowly on his ripped jeans. "Well, Nye ain't a liar. She's gonna do everythin' to keep you kids safe."

Lydia nodded slowly, but stopped to give Daryl a curious look.

"How come Mason and Toby don't call you "Dad"?"

Daryl froze, unsure of what the sudden restricted feeling in his chest was. "I ain't their dad." He blurted out, but for reasons he refused to acknowledge, the words made him feel guilty. Like he had betrayed some unspoken rule.

Lydia blinked at him, her amber eyes staring at him in surprise. "You- but I thought-" She shook her head. "Then why's D on her gun?"

"What?"

"Her gun," She reiterated, still looking disbelieving. "The handle's got the letters M, T, and D on the bottom. Mason, Toby, and Daryl." Tugging on her hair, masking half of her face, she watched him. "She never said you weren't. After I heard her sayin' your name in her sleep, I asked about you and she talked 'bout you like you were..." She trailed off slowly, getting quieter, too embarrassed by her wrong assumption to tell him the full truth that she thought he was Nye's husband along with father of her kids.

Clearing his throat, Daryl stood. "I only met Nye after the world went to shit."

"Then who's Mason and Toby's da-"

"They're adopted." Daryl cut her off, kicking the dirt back into the hole he dug. "Toby's is dead, and Mason's was never in the picture." He picked his crossbow up, slinging it over his shoulder. "Doesn't matter, Nye's their mom. That's all there is to it."

Lydia rushed to stand and follow him as he moved to head back to the road. "What's "adopted" mean?"

Daryl stopped, looking back at her over his shoulder. "Means that she didn't have them, but she takes care of 'em. She's raisin' them up, actin' as the mom they lost. But they're her kids, through and through."

Lydia walked beside him, eyes on the ground while she contemplated that. "Does that mean I'm adopted?"

Daryl bit his lip, fisting the strap of his crossbow in search of words. "Best just ask her that."

Lydia nodded, head raising as she hesitantly reached to her left.

Daryl jumped slightly, as he felt Lydia's small hand enter his. He remained stiff, until she looked up at him timidly.

"...Nye wants me to hold hands with her when we walk. Says it safer like that."

While that was the reason she gave Lydia, Daryl knew that Nye most likely just wanted the girl to get more used to reassuring physical contact. Not the harsh strikes she grew up with.

"How old are you, kid?"

"Eight."

With a nod of his head, Daryl held her hand tighter. "Toughest eight year old I ever met."

"Had to be. She didn't let us be weak." Lydia murmured, her eyes much too haunted for her age.

Daryl was positive that whether she realized it or not, Nye saw herself in this girl. And if he was being honest, he was starting to see something familiar too.

...

Finding several cars in the middle of the road, the group scoured through them for supplies, and tried to get some of them started. But following the track record of their luck as of late, the cars were virtually empty, while the gas tanks were dry as a bone.

Sitting in the front seat of one, Nye rifled through its contents halfheartedly, not expecting to find anything. Opening the glove compartment, she jerked back as a stack of papers fell out. Picking them up, Nye scanned them confusedly, realizing that while they seemed like printed documents, what was written on them sounded like current affairs, going off of a list of grocery stores that were labeled "empty".

"The Kingdom, half their produce... livestock..." Nye murmured with furrowed brows and a frown. "Hilltop, medical supplies... talk to Jesus? The fuck does that mean?" She turned the page over, eyeing the crudely drawn map on the back. Near the bottom was a quick note. "Got any questions, talk to Simon, that dick'll set you straight."

Setting down that one, she picked up the rest, something not sitting right with her as she read what looked like the inventory of an armory. It was concerning just how much was listed.

"What's that?"

Nye jumped, too focused on the papers to notice anyone come sit down on the passenger side, let alone that it was Tyreese. Surprised that he was here, talking to her, she stammered for a second, shuffling the papers and putting them back in the glove compartment. "I, uh... you know, I'm not sure actually." Adjusting herself to seem more relaxed, she smiled at him. "How are you doing?"

Tyreese sighed through his nose, looking dejectedly down at his left arm, or lack thereof. "Been better."

Nye swallowed, leaning back as she bit her lip in guilt. "I am so sorry I couldn't-"

"What? Find a cure? Turn back time? You aren't to blame for this, I got myself bit. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't be sitting here right now."

Nye smiled thinly. "Thanks. But if you hadn't shot that Walker, I wouldn't be here."

Tyreese rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Are we just going to go around in circles?"

"Well if we want to go way back, it was me and Carl that saved you and Sasha from the prison catacombs. So I guess I can accept your thank you."

The two shared a comfortable silence, taking a moment to breathe and try to forget all that had happened in the past few weeks. It was short lived though, as Sasha moved to stand at Tyreese's door.

"Rick wants to know what everyone found."

Nye scoffed bitterly, holding up an almost empty bottle of sunscreen as her only find. "Boy is he gonna be just jazzed when he sees my haul."

Finding some semblance of shade, they all sat around, hot and hungry, to let each other know exactly what they already did. The cars were a bust, and they were royally screwed. Though, no one actually said that second part out loud.

Pulling out a bottle of bourbon from his cargo pants, Abraham uncapped it and raised it to his lips.

"So all we found was booze?" Tara asked tiredly, watching Abraham.

Rosita crossed her arms as she sat back. "Yeah."

"It's not gonna help."

"He knows that."

"It's gonna make it worse."

"Yes, it is."

"He's a grown man." Eugene spoke up for the first time in days. "And I truly do not know if things can get worse."

Nye tipped her head back, eyes closed tightly in exasperation. "Ace."

"On it." The teen sighed, leaning over and swatting Eugene in the back of the head.

Peaking an eye open, Nye glowered at him "They can. And will."

As if summoned strictly to prove her point, the bushes rustled, and four snarling dogs creeped through. They barked, almost looking completely feral, if not for the worn out collars still clinging to their necks. A dark reminder that they were once part of someone's family.

Samson rose from his spot next to Lydia, haunches rising as he growled and barked back. It was brave on the Saint Bernard's part, but mostly stupid, for thinking he could take on the four strays.

Tense and ready to defend themselves, most of the group held their knives. But Sasha stood, aiming her rifle at the small pack. With four silenced shots, the dogs dropped, killed instantly by a single hole in each head.

"Sasha!" Tyreese reprimanded, reaching for and forcing the barrel of her gun down.

The woman looked at him, confused, until he nodded at something, drawing her attention to it.

Lydia sat, face hidden in Nye's neck as the brunette tried to comfort the shaking girl. She was used to plenty of killing, but she had never seen a dog slain before. It hit much too close to home, considering for a long time, Samson was her only source of companionship.

Nye whispered soothing words into the girl's ear, watching over her raven locks as Rick stood with a scowl. The former sheriff picked up a branch, and started breaking it off into smaller pieces. When Nye caught on, her eyes widened severely.

"Rick." She implored with one word, shaking her head slowly at him. "You can't be serious."

Rick took a harsh inhale through his nose, dropping the branches. Any relief from that action was quickly extinguished, as he took out a knife, and knelt by the dead dogs.

Lydia started to lift her head, but Nye gently pushed it back down, warning her not to look as Rick started to skin them. Daryl joined him after a beat, clearly not too fond of this either, but aware that it was necessary.

Toby gagged, turning his back to the scene. Next to him Tara did the same, nudging him with her elbow in silent understanding.

Mason winced, but watched, feeling oddly guilty as he did so while petting Samson's matted fur.

The group found themselves eating the foreign meat soon after, ignoring the bizarre taste in favor of filling their stomachs.

Nye glanced between the kids, all of them chewing on the only food that had been able to be provided in awhile, worried about what this might do to them in the long run. Michonne was right, like always, it was dangerous to be out here too long.

They needed a safe place. And they needed to find it soon.