AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I don't know if you've read the last two chapters, but make sure you read them first. I was feeling drawn here, so I figured I might as well go ahead and write what I can while the inspiration is there.

I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to let me know what you think!

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"See, I told you she was fine," Carol said, brushing her hand over Sophia's hair.

Sophia had always had some issues with anxiety and, really, Carol couldn't blame her for that. Her daughter had experienced things that she never should have experienced. Carol knew she should have protected her more—better—but she'd failed to protect her from some things. Carol, herself, had anxiety and, though she tried to hide it, she was sure Sophia had always been able to pick up on it, as well.

It was easier just to deal with her feelings, and then, dealt with, they passed for Sophia.

The hard hug that Sophia gave Andrea, squeezing her like she intended to crack her ribcage, and the one that Andrea gave her in return, would probably dispel any of the concern that Sophia felt from the night before.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," Andrea assured Sophia as she hugged her.

"Everyone is fine," Jo said cheerfully as she re-entered the bedroom where Andrea had slept.

Having slept much of the day, Carol and Sophia were two of the first ones awake. It seemed that Jo was the only one that had beaten them awake. Carol had offered to make them coffee, and they'd enjoyed the coffee in the dark kitchen while Sophia had eaten some bread and peanut butter and washed it down with Kool Aid. It wasn't, perhaps, the most nutritious breakfast, but it made Sophia happy and Carol wasn't too concerned with nutrition at the moment—not as long as her daughter was safe and being fed.

Carol and Jo had their coffee in amiable silence. Then, Jo had prepared another cup of coffee, and she'd asked Carol to come with her to check on Andrea.

Jo had slipped out of the bedroom, asking both women to wait on her, and now she returned in her heavy floral housecoat.

"Sophia—Beth is up and she's going with Jimmy and Maggie to milk the cows. Would you like to go with her?" Jo asked.

Sophia looked at Carol and Carol glanced at Jo. The old woman smiled at her and nodded her head gently.

"She'll be safe," Jo said.

"Go ahead," Carol said. "You listen to them, though, and you don't go anywhere else. You stay right with them, Sophia."

"Thanks, Mama," Sophia said, wrapping her arms around Carol in a warm hug before she sprinted out of the bedroom. Jo smiled and watched her go. She looked back at Carol and Andrea, both sitting on the side of the large, antique bed, when Sophia was gone.

"There were a lot of farms in the area," Jo said. "The closest town is about ten miles from here. As country folk, we've always relied on each other for help. That's how we ended up with Patricia, and Otis…and Jimmy. Patricia anticipated that we might be called up to help our neighbors in any number of ways." She looked at Carol and offered her what Carol now knew to be a reassuring smile. "I know your husband's experience with Patricia yesterday may lead you to think poorly of her, but she's a very kind soul, and she would never intentionally hurt anyone. Otis wouldn't have, either."

"There are no hard feelings," Carol offered.

"Really," Andrea insisted. "It's fine. I—don't always do well with that kind of thing."

Jo nodded her head.

"Patricia brought a good bit of supplies that she borrowed from town," Jo said. "She meant to pay for it, but nobody was around. She left a note of debt in case things were to become normal again." Jo slipped her hand into her pocket and came out with a box that she passed to Andrea. "Luckily, she had the foresight to pick up a variety of different things—unsure, really, of what people might show up needing."

Andrea's response to the box in her hand was to simply sit and shake her head. Carol slipped her hand over and rubbed circles on Andrea's back the way she would on Sophia's if the girl was upset.

"I don't need this," Andrea said.

"Why don't you try it?" Jo asked.

"I don't need this," Andrea repeated, trying to hand the box back to Jo. "Someone else might need this—but I don't."

"Just take one," Jo said. "You can leave the other for someone who needs it. Just to humor an old woman? Then we'll get some breakfast ready before everyone else is up and ransacking my kitchen."

Andrea looked at Carol. Carol wouldn't have even begun, at that moment, to try to put words to everything that Andrea might have been feeling. She simply nodded her head at Andrea. Andrea shook her head in response.

"I don't need this. I…can't, Carol…I can't."

Carol gave her the best reassuring smile she could, and she nodded again.

"I think you should," Carol said. "Just to be sure. That's all. I'll come with you, if you want."

Andrea nodded her head.

"Please?"

Carol held her smile and stood up.

"Come on. Jo? We'll be down in a few minutes to help with breakfast."

"Take your time," Jo said, reaching for Andrea's abandoned coffee cup as Carol led Andrea from the room.

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"Things happen. Accidents happen. This is not the kind of world where there are guarantees," Rick said.

Carol wasn't sure exactly how much was going to be accomplished. It seemed, to her, that this was a table meeting where they practically needed to "get out" what they were thinking, and she imagined that it wouldn't be until they came back together again that anything was actually solved—if there was really any solution to what was, essentially, a discussion over how they might all live together more peacefully.

Tensions and emotions just seemed to be running high, especially between certain people gathered around the dining room table.

Carol kept glancing toward the couple who actually owned this house. They had banished, in a way, Maggie, Beth, Jimmy, and Sophia outside. The four of them were on the porch playing some kind of game that Jo had passed out the door. Carol could hear snatches of their conversation over the game.

Hershel and Jo both seemed content to let the group work out their differences. They wanted peace, and Carol knew that from their brief discussion in the kitchen, more than anything. They felt that the group was bringing upset to their lives that was unnecessary—especially in a world where finding peace was as difficult as it had proven lately.

Jo thought it would be easier to talk to everyone if they had a chance to air their grievances and to relax a little, and she was feeling the need to talk to everyone soon. There were a lot of mouths to feed, and that needed to be discussed if they were to avoid having hard feelings about helping the group.

Carol had spoken to Daryl immediately, and he'd already spoken to Jo. After the table discussion, he intended to go out hunting and to run a few snares. There was a late garden that needed to be tended, and there were some fruit trees that needed to be tended as well. Carol and Andrea would, at the close of the meeting, help with those additional chores to try to ease some of the burden of food—and then, they could all discuss how to further ease that burden. They would also make sure that the other chores were being divided among the group members.

"Accidents happen, I get that Rick. I'm not fuckin' stupid," Daryl spat. "I'm just sayin' that it seems like accidents happen a whole lot more in one direction then they do in another, and we ain't exactly makin' the best choices for everyone. These choices are feelin' a little damn one directional."

"I am making the best choices that I can for everyone!" Rick said, his voice growing louder. Carol winced. It seemed that this was going to come down to a shouting match. "I am doing the best that I can for everyone! Do you think that it's easy?"

"I think no damn body asked you to make all the damn choices for everyone!" Daryl countered.

"We can't just go around without some kind of unified position," Rick said. "We fall apart if we do that."

"He's not entirely wrong about that," Shane said.

"Maybe what we need is a different kind of leadership," Dale said. "Maybe what we need is a break from the way things have been leaning."

"Who's going to lead us?" Rick asked. "You?"

"This is ridiculous!" Lori interrupted. "This is just an attack! A witch hunt! You're presenting this as if you were victims—and nobody here is any more a victim than anyone else. We've all suffered!"

"Andrea lost her husband," Glenn offered.

"I lost my husband!" Lori barked at Glenn.

"Yours come back," Daryl responded. "And when he did, he took it upon himself to handcuff my fuckin' brother to a roof an' leave his ass for dead. Besides—weren't exactly like you was depressed as shit over losin' your husband! You ain't suffered too damn much!"

"Don't you dare!" Lori snarled. "You lost your brother. You lost your husband. But that's not Rick's fault. That was his fault. You need to put the blame where the blame ought to be. If he weren't a drug addict, he would've never been left on that roof. That's on him."

Carol had chosen to keep her hands busy by holding one of Andrea's arms with one hand and rubbing Andrea's back with the other.

"We're not trying to place blame here," Dale said. "I think—we're missing the point of what's being said…"

"The point is that you're trying to blame us for your problems," Lori said. She looked at Carol. Carol thought she could actually feel heat from the directed gaze. "Look—I am sorry that your daughter got lost and…and had to sleep outside. But that doesn't make you a victim any more than it makes me a victim. My son? My son got lost, too. And he got shot. And he is in there—in a bed…right now. And he is fighting for his life while you're all in here trying to blame my husband for just trying to do the right thing…"

"Don't you yell at her!" Daryl barked. "He wouldn'ta got shot if Rick hadn't left the damn kids to fend for themselves!"

"I was trying to kill the Walkers," Rick interrupted.

"He was doing what he could to try to save them," Lori said. "He shouldn't have had to go after them if she'd been doing what she was supposed to do and had been watching them. That's all she had to do was watch them!"

"I was trying to keep from being killed!" Andrea yelled, truly animated for the first time since she'd come downstairs. "It wasn't like I was taking a nap!"

"No, but you might've been," Lori countered. "Because goodness knows we couldn't expect you to do any of the work after your loss."

Carol held tightly onto Andrea's arm when Andrea stood up and made it very clear that she was considering showing Lori exactly how she felt like relieving her current level of frustration. Carol pulled back on her, doing her best to keep her from reaching the woman across the table.

"Like you've ever done shit except bitch and moan! I lost my husband!" Andrea yelled, her face going red. "I lost my sister! Maybe if I had a boyfriend on standby to fuck me, like you did, I'd feel better, but the end of the fucking world hasn't been as easy for me as it has been for some people!"

Carol didn't dare to look in the direction of neither Rick nor Shane.

There were teeth bared, and Carol pulled desperately at Andrea's arm, nearly feeling like she might pull the skin off, to ground her and keep her from making a move. Across the table, nobody was holding Lori back except, maybe, some inner knowledge that Andrea might very well best her in hand-to-hand combat if she wanted to initiate that.

"You bitch! My son is sick! He may be dying!" Lori snarled.

It was really difficult to say what exactly happened next in the scramble. Shane left. Rick left. Carol wasn't even really sure if they left together, or if they left separately. She was overwhelmed, honestly, with everything that had come pouring out of everyone.

Following their storming out, Lori had dissolved into tears, and she'd gone running out the door, too. It was impossible, really, to know where any of them had gone, and Carol had no desire to follow them outside into the sunlight to find out.

From the porch—through the screened door, she heard Sophia.

"Mama? Are you OK?" Sophia called in. "I'm on the porch. I'm right where you told me to be."

Sophia was no stranger to yelling and anger. She also knew better than to ask too many questions about what she heard—she was only concerned with what she found most important.

"I'm OK, baby," Carol called back. "We're all—everyone's OK. You just stay out there, OK? For right now—you play with Beth."

"You're sure you're OK, Mama?" Sophia called back.

Carol realized her voice was shaky, and she did her best to still it.

"I promise, baby. Keep playing."

"I'm sorry that—happened in your home," Dale offered, speaking to Hershel and Jo.

Everyone stood around in various states of shock and emotion.

"If you leave a kettle on the fire too long," Jo said, "it's bound to boil over."

"I don't think much got accomplished," Glenn said.

"Everyone aired their grievances," Jo said. "The next time will be better now that that's out of the way."

"I have to check on the child," Hershel told Jo. She nodded at him. Patricia followed after him, maintaining the same silence she'd been maintaining.

"We can start setting up the rest of those tents," Jacqui told Jo. "Get everyone out of your hair."

"A little distance and fresh air might be for the best, for everyone," Jo said. "For a while, at least." She looked at Carol who was sitting, still, next to Andrea who had finally sat back down. "If you don't mind, I'll get you some baskets. You can pick the apples off those trees. The fresh air might do you both some good."

Carol nodded and thanked the woman.

Daryl stood up from his spot, walked over, and kissed Carol on the forehead.

"I'ma go hunt," he said.

"Are you OK?" She asked.

"Fresh air does everybody good," Daryl said in response.

"Be safe?" Carol said.

Daryl gave her a soft smile and nodded his head.

"If you will," he said. She smiled at him. "Hold things down here?"

She nodded in response and offered him a kiss. He touched Andrea's shoulder, and she patted his hand. It was all the exchange necessary, really. Then, he picked up his bag and crossbow from the corner and excused himself out of the front door. Carol heard him telling Sophia goodbye before she heard his boots descending the steps.