The woman was sitting at one of the metal tables now, holding a cloth against her wound. Her face said she knew this was coming and she was prepared for the interrogation that was about to happen.

Rick stopped in front of her as Daryl moved closer to the door just in case he needs to shoot her (or more likely threaten her), while Hershel stood behind Rick, sort of in the middle, preparing to be the voice of reason just in case Rick needs a little outside help with his restraint.

"We can tend to that wound for you, give you a little food and water and then send you on your way. But you're gonna have to tell us how you found us, and why you were carrying formula." Rick rested one hand on his gun and the other on his hip.

"The supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy with a pretty girl and a quiet woman."

Daryl went rigid like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. His grip on his crossbow tightening until his knuckles were white but he just barely resisted the urge to point it at her head and pull the trigger if she doesn't tell them if they're ok.

"What happened?" Rick kept himself calm, having already been expecting an answer like that, what he needs to know is the specifics.

"Were they attacked?" Hershel asked, on his toes and fearfully worried but trying to keep calm and not panic. They're all highly capable, if they were attacked, there's every likelihood that they're ok.

"They were taken."

"Taken? By who?" Rick's entire demeanor flipped a switch, eyes set on her like a tracking system.

"By the same son of a bitch who shot me." She answered bitterly, glancing at the side with a snarl to her lip, thinking back on what happened.

"Hey, these are our people." Rick lowered himself down, almost in a military crouch, getting close to her without alarming her, a terrifying trick he picked up after watching Eve, Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie infiltrate buildings before the rest of them.

"You tell us what happened now!" He grabbed her leg digging his fingers in and she jumped up, away from him, pointing her finger at him like a threat.

"Don't you ever touch me again!"

Rick backed her up but stopped advancing when Daryl's angry voice came up beside him, his crossbow in full view aiming directly for this woman's eye, barely 3 inches from her face.

"You'd better start talking. You're gonna have a much bigger problem than a gunshot wound."

"Find 'em yourself." She dared and Daryl almost pulled the trigger right then out of sheer spite.

Rick put his hand on the edge of the bow though and whispered, "Shh shh shh shh. Put it down."

Daryl didn't do it immediately. He couldn't. His blood is searing his arms, trying to constrict the vessels enough to pull the trigger themselves. But after a second, only because he knows that she's the ticket to finding them, that he finally forced himself to lower it, but not even the devil himself could pry his grip off it.

"You came here for a reason."

The woman sighed through her nose, almost rolling her eyes because she can't deny it. She did come here for a reason. A desperate grasp of a straw but a reason nonetheless and it's a little too late to turn back now.

She finally gave in. "There's a town. Woodbury. About 75 survivors. I think they were taken there."

"A whole town?" Rick asked, trying not to sound too incredulous but … it's hard to imagine an entire town of survivors. The biggest group they've ever even heard of so far was Randall's old one, and they numbered only 30-35, even fewer after the shootout/rescue at the bar in town.

The woman continued, "It's run by this guy who calls himself The Governor. Pretty boy, charmin', Jim Jones type."

"He got muscle?" It took every last scrap of patience he has but Daryl forced himself to be dangerously calm. The sort of calm that's foreboding. When he finds this guy, he's gonna hang him from a tree like a walker pinata by his own intestines. Alive.

"Paramilitary wannabes. They have armed sentries on every wall." She answered, finally being somewhat cooperative.

"You know a way in?" Rick got straight to the point.

"Place is secure from walkers, but we could slip our way through."

Satisfied, Rick got the final question they need answers to. The one she's most likely to lie about. "How'd you know how to get here?"

"They mentioned a prison. Said which direction it was in, said it was a straight shot." She answered not too fast, not too slow but naturally. Not a hint of a lie, not so much as even shifting a single finger suspiciously.

Rick's faced down a lot of liars, it's hard to tell when a good liar is taking you for a ride, but weirdly enough, it's easy to tell when someone's being completely honest with you.

And in his experience, the words of people who are less prone to talking are more trustworthy than most. The more they talk, the less he trusts them. Or maybe he's just gotten accustomed to trusting people who don't talk much. It's proven to be effective so far.

He has no doubt that this woman has her own motive and objectives but it doesn't seem to be aimed at them.

For now at least, they're on the same side. He doesn't trust her, but they need each other, and it's clear that all of them here understand that.

"This is Hershel. Father of the younger girl who was taken. He'll take care of that." Rick motioned at her gunshot wound before walking away, Daryl following after him with his fingernails digging crescents into his palm.

When Daryl finds her, he's gonna chain their damn wrists together. He doesn't give a shit anymore, she is not leaving his side for anything. Until she learns how to keep herself out of trouble, he's gonna be right there in it with her.

He's tried keeping her by his side in the past and it works a lot of the time, but it's always the moments when she's not that something happens. Cause the second someone's in trouble, she's darting off to be a hero — and he can't even fault her for it because that's almost become her role in the group, and as much as he hates to admit it, she's good at it. Every single one of them owes their life to her, some more than others but if she stopped intervening and instead tried to keep herself safer...

So maybe it's better if he sticks to her. She's never gonna stay out of trouble, it follows her like a magnet, and it's in her nature to respond.

Daryl's fist loosened, wanting to close his eyes but instead found his gaze on the floor. He's angry. Angry that she can't just sit still and leave it up to luck, and that however frustrating it is, he loves that about her.

The only consolation is that she's not stupid. She doesn't just jump in, she takes all the time she can to think carefully about how to help, but the sucky part is that no matter how dangerous the solution is, she's never not willing to take the leap if that's what she's gotta do.

The urge to punch the wall was almost unbearable but he didn't have time to as Rick suddenly set his hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry. She'll be ok. She always is. She always comes back."

Daryl clenched his teeth. 'But will it be in one piece.'

Every time this happens something worse happens. She almost died the last two times she "came back".

He knows Rick's just tryna help but he couldn't help but speak his mind. "Even the devil can run outta luck."

"So let's not leave it up to that."


"How do you know we can trust her?" Oscar asked at the back of the Cell block where the group, minus Hershel & Carl, have gathered to talk about the plan.

"This is Maggie, Glenn, and Eve. Why are we even debatin?"

"We ain't." Daryl answered firmly, without hesitation. "I'll go after 'em."

No surprise there, but Beth is still grateful.

"Well this place sounds pretty secure. You can't go alone." Rick reminded.

They all know Daryl's going with or without them but what was unexpected was Beth replying without hesitation, "I'll go."

"So will I." Randall stood up from he sat on the stairs beside Carol, who's got the baby — being the only experienced mother here.

And if Beth wasn't surprising enough, Axel and Big Tiny also stepped forward and simultaneously volunteered as well.

"I'm in." T-Dog agreed in a flat tone, like it was obvious that he's not staying here; which it was, but the verbal confirmation was appreciated nonetheless.

It became blindingly apparent right after Oscar finally echoed T-Dog and said, "I'm in." that not one of them isn't willing to go after their people.

Rick sighed, both pleased and not so, because they can't all go. They can't leave the prison undefended no matter how secure it is. That means it's up to Rick to make the final decision, as always.

Carol, the baby, Hershel, and Carl are obviously staying here. It's too dangerous to take Beth if they don't have to, she doesn't have as much experience with this high-risk stuff as the rest of them. Big Tiny isn't a good idea either because he's not exactly difficult to spot. So they're all staying.

Randall has a bum leg so if they have to run — which they probably will, he might slow them down. But he's also a really good shot, he's not sure they can afford to leave him either.

Daryl's an even more obvious choice than T-Dog, he's not sure— no he's positive he wouldn't be able to convince him to stay even if he was dumb enough to try. Rick is going, that woman out there is coming with them. So that leaves Oscar, Axel, and Randall.

Axel should stay. Rick doesn't know his capabilities and he's too skittish, he can barely handle a knife properly from what Rick's seen. He'd be a worse choice than Beth.

That means Rick only has one question before he makes the final decision. He looked at Oscar.

"Can you shoot?"

Oscar nodded. He's not a great shot but 9 times outta 10 he can hit the target center-mass.

"Well that settles it then." Rick made his decision and began explaining the plan.

Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, Oscar, Randall, and that woman are going.

Tiny, Axel, Beth, Carol, Carl, Hershel, and the baby are staying here. That should be sufficient defense while they're gone, and a smaller group is better for a stealth operation like this.

Now if only their number one and number two stealthers weren't two of the people who need rescuing.


"I got the flashbangs and I got the tear gas. You never know what you're gonna need." Daryl — along with Oscar — loaded up the trunk of the green car with a significant amount of firepower, before grabbing his vest and swinging that on, while Oscar went back inside for the rest and Carl came up next to him.

"Hey" Daryl greeted offhandedly, quickly grabbing the heavy tool kit (subconsciously remembering that it was Dale's, but it's been added to) from him and put it in the back while Carl put in a tan military backpack at the same time.

"Hey, don't you worry about your old man. I'm gonna keep my eye on him." Daryl reassured the only way he knows how, and it worked. Carl looked at him and nodded, a little half smile sweeping across his face and gone just as fast but it's ghost lingered around his eyes.

It's a welcome change to the numb mask the kid's been ducking behind since his mom…

Fortunately or unfortunately depending on perspective, Daryl knows a thing or two about masks. It's only the second time Daryl's seen him without it since. The first being when they were clearing out the catacombs still before he found Carol, and he told Carl about how his own mother died.

He has to confess though, he learned how from the best. Eve unintentionally taught him when she told him about the burn scars on her shoulder. The only way to get someone to open about, especially about pain, is to share your own.

Somehow sharing it with Carl was easier than sharing it even with Eve. Aside from the fact he had to actually say it and explain how he had felt about his mom unintentionally burning herself to death by drinking & smoking in bed, instead of the kid being able to decipher it from Daryl himself. It was a weird experience but he was surprised that it not only helped Carl but also helped him.

He doesn't know why, but he felt compelled to say it, "I'm bringin' her back."

He gave Carl a brief pat on the back as they both moved back from the car to continue what they gotta do.

"I know." A hint of a smile creased Carl's young eyes, entirely faithful in what he said next, "Eve doesn't make promises she can't keep."

Daryl stared at him profoundly as Rick took his son off to the side to talk to him for a moment.

How did he wind up being the one comforted by Carl?

Beth opened the upper gate as that woman limped over to her.

"Wasn't this place overrun?"

"It was."

"And you cleared it out all by yourselves? Just the few of you." She was utterly flabbergasted with disbelief, but impressed. They have no reason to lie about how they came to be here. And it's pretty obvious these people know what they're doing and can handle themselves. She wouldn't doubt it if these guys are even more capable than Woodbury. Woodbury's got numbers but the longer she's here, the more she'd actually bet on these people.

Beth stopped, a woman with long dark hair appearing in her mind. "There were others."

"I'm sorry." The woman apologized and conveyed her condolences simultaneously. It was a stupid question to ask, of course they couldn't have done it all by themselves. She just wasn't thinking because she couldn't believe this place was actually cleared out. Despite being surrounded by strangers with a thin thread of circumstantial trust between them, this is the safest she's been in a long time.

Woodbury had made her skeptical and suspicious right from the start, partly because she was taken there against her will "out of the goodness of their hearts" but these people — as dangerous as they definitely are — for some reason they don't raise any red flags, and she's not even suspicious of why not because she came here on her own. They have no reason to be after her and what they want from each other is crystal clear. Almost like a trade for mutual gain.

Rick brought Carl to the side, finally in his right mind to have this conversation with his son. Because they both need it, but Carl needs it more — he needs to hear it from Rick.

"What you did for mom—"

"I had to." Carl cut him off, sounding more defensive than he meant to.

"Yeah, I— I know." Rick sighed, trying to reassure just through his gentle tone that he's not in trouble. How could he ever be in trouble for not letting his mother turn into a flesh eating monster. "I know and I'm sorry. No one should have to go through that."

Carl looked down, breathing a sigh. He doesn't want to talk about this. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

"Look if something happens while we're gone—"

"We'll be alright." Carl cut him off again.

Rick felt a sharp pang in his chest. He's trying to be a father but Carl's not letting him and he can't be angry at him for it because he knows. He left him to deal with his mother's death on his own while he himself was drowning in grief. He shouldn't have done that. He'll forever regret it, because it must've been so much harder for him. And Carl still handled it better than he did.

Rick shook his head and continued because this is important. "If anything happens, get everyone locked in the cells, keep them all safe."

"I will." Carl nodded. That's basically what he's been doing all along. Every time his dad and the others leave to do something, he's always the one entrusted with the responsibility of keeping the more vulnerable members and their base safe. He's accustomed to this responsibility by now.

"I know. I know you will." Rick nodded with the utmost confidence. He knows Carl can handle this. He just needed to make sure that Carl knew what to do and had a plan just in case, instead of having to come up with one on the spot if something happened.

Rick nodded. "Take care of your sister." Rick rested his hand on the side of Carl's neck, reminding him how young yet how grown his son has become in just over a year. It's both amazing and utterly heart-breaking how tragedy can help a person grow.

"Daryl's been calling her ass kicker." Carl called after him, stopping him before he got even 6 feet from him.

Rick turned back, "Ass-kicker?"

He breathed a laugh. A true smile on his face for the first time in days. He's not even surprised. "Has he, now?"

"I've been thinking what should we really call her?"Carl leaned his arm against the stone wall/pillar that holds up the overwalk between the main building and the office building above them.

"What do you think?" Rick came back, leaning his shoulder on the other side of the pillar, giving his undivided attention.

"Remember my third grade teacher, ?"

"Of course." Rick nodded.

"Her first name was Judith. Do you think that's a good name?"

"I think that's— that's a fine name." He stumbled over his surprise mid-sentence. A warm feeling enveloped Rick's tattered heart. He didn't expect Carl to have put so much thought into this when even he hadn't yet. He's only had a sister for a couple of days and he's already shaping up to be her big brother. "Judith it is."

Carl smiled and Rick put his hand on his son's back, squeezing his neck affectionately and proudly as they walked back.

He's gonna be a great brother. That puts a part of Rick at ease that he wasn't even aware was pressing on him. Not a lot of people talk about it, but there's always this fear for parents that their kids will react badly to a sibling, or they'll grow up to hate each other; fight and bicker, and not be there to help each other out, or even worse. Especially when you've got a boy and a girl. But it seems Rick doesn't have anything to worry about.


Glenn stretched his aching jaw, letting some of the blood pooling behind his bottom teeth drool out of his mouth. The duct tape strapping his wrists to the wooden chair, chafing his skin raw.

The musty, poorly bricked room filled with the smell of dust and rust made it even harder to breathe. But it's lit by actual light bulbs that were clearly installed by someone who wasn't putting them in to be pretty. That means there's a generator though.

This room is filled with disassembled furniture, suitcases, old paintings, an exposed ceiling. Like some kind of repurposed storage unit and has a 'grandma's basement' feeling to it, or a garage sale.

There's weird stuff in here but most of it is like junk that's been pushed to the sides to make room for the chair he's in, and the scuffed wooden table that Merle's sitting on in front of him. Other than that, he regrettably can't tell much about where they could possibly be.

"I gotta hand it to ya, a lot tougher than I remember." Merle's voice grated on his eardrum. "No surprise you lasted this long. Shoot, I figured the way Officer Friendly abandoned people, he would have left you behind by now. But he didn't do that, did he?" Merle probed for information more carefully than most but more obviously than someone who really knows what they're doing.

He knows what Merle's trying to do. He's not even trying to hide the manipulation, trying to get information out of him. He's not exactly subtle and he knows it, so he doesn't try to be. He's manipulative but he's no master.

Glenn clenched his teeth, keeping his mouth shut as the purple and red blooms began to appear on his skin like a paper towel dropped over pools of fresh paint.

"So tell me, where y'all been at?"

"It's just a matter of time before they come looking."

"I'll bake a cake. With pink frosting. Would they like that?" A dull almost bored smirk pulled at the corner of Merle's scruffy mouth as he slowly shook his head. "Ain't nobody comin'."

"Rick is." Glenn stated matter-of-factly, not a doubt in his mind that the others will come for them. "And when he gets here—"

"He's gonna do nothing, not if he wants you, Rider, and Bo peep back. Think I'm in this by myself?" Merle leaned his arm on his leg, the metal contraption over his stump clinking, the long blade attached to the end not even glinting in the low light, in desperate need of a polish.

"You can't take us all. There's too many of us." Glenn isn't even sure himself if he's bluffing or not. He has no idea if Merle's bluffing about not being alone. If he is alone, there's no way he can take them on; it's a miracle he even managed to capture the 3 of them. If he isn't, then it depends on how big and how capable his group is. But even he's got a whole camp behind him with over a dozen people, there's no way they're as capable.

No matter if his camp is armed or has a good setup, Rick and the others will find them and give them Hell. Assuming Eve doesn't find a way out on her own first. And with what he's done to Glenn? Daryl's brother or not, Eve's not gonna let him get away with this. If he's laid a finger on Eve, Daryl won't let it slide either.

Merle smirked, sunken eyes glinting with amusement and it faded off his face as he spoke, "Without Rider, there ain't a pair of nuts between the whole pussy lot of you."

Anger rose up inside him like a boiling pot.

Merle is underestimating their experience just because they haven't seen each other since Atlanta. He has no idea what they've been through, what they've weathered to get this far.

And he knows he should be playing this smarter, that Merle underestimating them is a good thing, but he can't help defending against Merle's condescending tone, especially not when every inch of his upper body hurts, all radiating down from his head. His eye is already swelling so much he's having a hard time seeing out of it and his jaw aches like some of his teeth should've come loose but he probed his tongue around his mouth earlier and although everything is numb, he's sure all of them are intact.

Glenn spoke forcefully, "We've been on the road, not hiding in some dungeon."

"Rick, Shane, Dale, Jim, Andrea." The second he said her name, a twisted smile stretched across Merle's face, like the cat who caught the canary.

"Reeeeally? Is that right?"

Glenn's stomach sank to the bottom of his shoes. He messed up. He doesn't know how, but that smile — somehow Merle knows he was bluffing.


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