Wendy imouto chan, you are now my favorite person ever.

Another update for my loving fans. I realized that I wrote Jeremy instead of Jimmy in the last chapter, but oh well. Please ignore it. I really hope you like where this story is going. If you could leave a review, I would love you.

Please forgive my awful grammar.

Questions and criticism and corrections are also accepted in reviews, just FYI.

Nicole POV

"All of these lines across my face tell you the story of who I am, so many stories of where I've been, and how I got to where I am."- The Story, Sara Ramirez

"Hey Nikki!" My stepfather screamed. His words were slurred, which they always were. He leaned against the barn wall, a half empty bottle of some cheap beer in his hand. "Get over here."

I rolled my eyes and went back to chopping wood. Almost 12 years. Almost 12 years he had been doing this, stumbling around outside, drunk off his ass. Ever since I was 9, he had come out to watch me chop wood. And every day, I tried and tried to ignore him, even though it rarely worked.

"Hey. Ya look at me when I'm talkin' to ya, ya here?" He said sharply, stepping closer to me. I groaned, but turned to face him, my axe tight in my hands.

"What Marcus?" I said through gritted teeth. I had stopped calling him dad a few years ago. Besides, he wasn't even my real dad. No. My dad was a good man, a hero, a cop. He saved lives and helped people. He didn't stumble around drunk every day.

"Don't give me attitude missy." He snapped. "Don't forget who puts food on the table for ya'!" I rolled my eyes. He was not the breadwinner. My mom was a teacher, she worked every day. I cut wood every morning, and I sold it to the local outdoor shop too. Jack had just enlisted in the military, so he wasn't even her anymore, but he still had his own job. Marcus just owned the farm. He didn't do shit, though. He just hired others to work for him.

"Sure." I rolled my eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." I turned back towards the wood block I had been chopping.

"Hey!" Marcus yelled behind me, anger in his voice. I cringed at his tone, gripping the axe handle tightly in my hands. I tried to breathe slowly, something I learned a few years ago. I helped calm me down when I got aggravated. "Hey!" He grabbed my arm and turned me so I was facing towards him. "I already told ya. You look at me when I'm talkin to ya'. Ya' look at your daddy." His tone was mocking on the word daddy.

I tried to calm my nerves, but I couldn't. I was tired of this. For years I had put up with his crap, and now, now I was done. I never, ever spoke back to Marcus, but I had had enough. "You, you drunken asshole, are not my father."

There was an explosion of pain as his fist collided with my face. I leaned backwards, cringing in pain. My axe fell to the ground with a thud. Marcus grabbed the collar of my shirt with his grease stained hands and pulled me close, so we were face to face. I could feel his breath against my skin, making me squirm in discomfort. He smelled like cigarettes, gasoline, and beer. It was disgusting.

"Ya better learn when to watch your tongue girl." He hissed. "Or there might be more where that came from."

"Because I talked back all those other times you beat me? Ye times you beat mom? Jack? Nah, you just like hitting people Marcus." I sneered, spitting in his face. He growled and shoved me away, his fist swung quickly and hit me in the face. Stars spread across my vision as I stumbled backwards. He came at me again, getting my face once more. I fell onto the ground, so I was lying on my back.

He continued his assault, punching and kicking my stomach, while I cried silently on the ground, my entire body wincing with each blow. "You will not disrespect me again!" He screamed, delivering a kick to my kidney. I moaned in pain.

After a few minutes of hell, he finally stopped, leaving me a groaning mess on the ground. Tears soaked my cheeks as they continued to silently fall. Marcus grinned sadistically at me and turned around. Slowly, he began to walk away from me. He always did this. He beat the shit out of me, and then he just left me there, a puddle of a person.

But not this time.

Slowly, I sat up, wincing as pains shot across my battered body. I summoned all the strength I had and stood up off the ground. Marcus bent over, picked up his beer, and stood there, trying to finish it. As quietly as I could, I grabbed the axe and heaved it off the ground.

I knew that this was the last time he would do this to me, one way or another.

"Hey asshole!" I screamed. As he turned, I swung with all of my might.

I stared at the sky, silent. Childhood memories ran through my mind, memories of drinks being thrown on me, of Marcus beating me, of chopping wood for hours on end. Lori was right. What position was I in to give parenting advice? I was a twenty-one year old girl who had a nutcase and an abusive drink for parents. What did I know?

But, that argument wasn't all because of me. Lori had been on edge, she has been since I got here. I didn't know why. The Lori I knew was smart, loving, loyal, and always saw the best in people. This Lori, well, she was nosy, and judgemental, and kind of bitchy. I didn't like it.

"Hey." someone behind me called. I didn't need to look back to see that it was Rick.

"Hi." I said quietly, not taking my gaze off the sky.

"Thank you." He said softly, sitting next to me. I leaned back, putting my wait on my hands.

"For what?"

"For pulling the trigger." He sighed, looking down at his feet. "When I couldn't."

I nodded sadly. "It's fine. Someone had to do it. I didn't know her….so I guess it was less painful that way."

"I saw your uh….. arguement. With my wife." He told me. I grunted, rolling my eyes.

"Of course you did. Everybody here heard it." I joked.

Rick sighed. "I'm sorry Nicole."

"What are you sorry about?" I turned and looked at him for the first time. Looking at his face, I could tell he had been crying. His eyes were puffy and red. Sophia's death had been hard for all of them. I knew that Rick felt personally responsible for her death, even though it wasn't his fault.

"Lori. She's been really...touchy lately. I didn't think she'd go off that way." He grimaced, leaning back.

"It's okay. We're all a little stressed. The person you should really talk with is Carl. The whole barn fiasco hit him really hard. Harder than he will probably admit to you. He needs someone to talk to. I don't think he meant to snap at Lori like that. He's just, stressed." I told him. He nodded along, and I could tell he was listening. "And all the things that have been happening with Shane haven't been helping." I added.

Rick shook his head, looking down. "I don't know what's gotten into him. He's so… angry. Like today, with that walker. I know he didn't like what I was doing, but that was no reason to go off like he did." Then he looked at me. "Oh, sorry. I shouldn't be badmouthing your brother to you."

I waved my hand. "Nah. I get it, and I agree with you. He shouldn't have done that. It was reckless and stupid. I don't know why." He was being too careless, too dangerous. He had been doing small things before this, but I guess he finally snapped. "Something set him off. But I don't know what."

Rick looked down, staring intently at his feet. He was hiding something. "What is it Rick?"

"Nothing." He mumbled clicking his heels like a little kid.

"It's written all over your face Rick. It's not nothing. Tell me." I said sternly, like I was talking to a little kid.

We sat there silently for a few moments, with me staring him down, before he finally spoke up. "Lori's pregnant. And it's probably Shane's."

I almost choked on the air I was breathing. "W-what?" I was flabbergasted. Lori's pregnant? "How long have you known? Who else knows?"

"Yeah. She told me yesterday. And she told Shane too. And.. I think Glenn and Maggie know too." Rick was thinking really hard.

"Is she keeping it?" I asked, still in shock from this bombshell.

"I think so." He nodded, looking up again. "I just," he sighed. "It's so much to process. The baby and Shane….. wait." He looked at me, very intently. "You don't seem really shocked that the two of them slept together."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I kind of sensed it, not long after I got here. The tension between the two, the way he looks longingly at her, the way he glares at you. It all adds up." I nodded. "And I confronted Lori about it yesterday."

Rick groaned and shook his head. "How was I so oblivious?"

"You saw what you wanted to see. You wanted it to not be there, so it wasn't. You were desperate for something that showed you that the old world still existed somewhere." I said gently. "You didn't want to believe it."

"I guess you're right." He grimaced. I felt bad for him. He hadn't done anything. He was shot, and when he woke, his whole world had changed. People he loved were gone, and those who weren't had changed, almost beyond behind the point of recognition. He didn't deserve any of this. "But it's ju-"

"Rick!" Daryl screamed, startling us. We both turned, looking up the hill. The man was running at us frantically, his bow in his hand.

"What?" Rick stood up, his brow creased with worry. "What is it?"

"It's Hershel." My heart kept into my trust. I barely knew the man, but I could tell that he was a kind and gentle soul, who only wanted the best for his family. "He's gone."

"Gone?" I asked, standing beside Rick. I furrowed my brow. I made eye contact with Daryl, before he quickly looked away, and back towards Rick.

"He ran into town." He explained. "The barn thing messed with his head. He up and left. Took Otis's truck to the bar. And now Beth is in some sort of state of shock. We need him back, and he could get killed out there, drunk and alone." I sighed. The Greenes had been through a lot today. They didn't need any more drama.

"Then we'll go get him." Rick decided. "You, me, and Glenn."

"Alright. I'll go get him." Daryl said gruffly.

I stepped forward, so I was in both of their lines of sight. "I'm coming too."

"No." Daryl said immediately. I ignored him.

I looked to Rick. "Come on. You know I can handle myself."

Rick looked at me for a moment. "Okay." He finnaly said. "You can come. Go get your weapon and meet me by the SUV in a minute." I nodded excitedly. I knew I wasn't supposed to be excited about this, but I couldn't help it. I loved action, and I despised sitting still. The duties of a housewife were not for me, unlike the other women in this place. I wanted to get in the thick of it.

I ran up the hill as the other two took off in other directions. I ran over to the picnic table, where I had left my bow and one of my guns. I slung both weapons over my shoulders. I noticed that the others were sitting around a fire, staring at me. Carol was staring blankly into the flames. My heart broke for her. She had just lost her daughter. For me, that was an unimaginable pain. T-Dog, Dale, and Andrea were sitting next to her, looking glum. Lori sat on a lawn chair, with Carl sitting close to her. Obviously they had made up. Lori was staring intently at me, or more correctly, the bruise she had made on my face.

"Nicole." She called softly. I did not acknowledge her. "Nicole, I'm sorry."

"Like I said. It's fine." I tried to make it sound emotionless as I forced the words through gritted teeth. I walked away from the group, towards the car. Daryl and Glenn were already there.

As soon as Rick arrived, we got in and sped off. Rick and Glenn were in the front. Daryl and I were in the back, our crossbows sitting on the seat between us. We rode in awkward silence, none of us knowing what to say at this point.

I kept catching Daryl staring at me, but every time I would he would look away quickly, pretending like he hadn't been staring. Daryl was the only person at this camp that I couldn't read. I could never tell what he was thinking, and that's what scared me about him. He was distant and cold, but I could tell he cared deeply for the members of the group, just by how he had reacted to finding Sophia. He was hiding something. I knew it. I just had to find out what.

After a while though, he gave up on looking away and just kept staring at me. It was making me uncomfortable, to be honest.

Eventually, though, I couldn't take it any more. Why was he still staring at me? "What are you looking at?" I snapped.

He held his gaze. "That bruise." He gestured. "You took that hit like a man. Any person that can take on an angry Lori and Shane has got to have some balls." He then looked away, finally. I smiled internally at his complement, but didn't show it on the outside. I just grunted and looked away, not wanting to talk about the fight any more. I stared out the window , watching as the fields rolled by. Daryl was still staring at me, his eyes expressionless. As I stared, I wondered what exactly was going through his mind.

Daryl POV

As she sat next to me, I looked at her bruise, the one from where Shane had hit her. I know Lori can't make a mark like that. She doesn't have the strength. Shane on the other hand, he had marked many people that way. Including his own sister.

I thought about what Lori had said, about Nicole's parents, and that had gotten me thinking. She had had shitty parents, like me. We both came from a crappy childhood. That explained why she was so reserved towards the rest of us. Why she was so defensive. She had to be.

But I still didn't fully trust her. I couldn't, at least a, not in this world. In this world, everybody had something to hide, and I had a feeling that whatever she was hiding was huge. This chick had a whole lot of baggage with her, something I knew all too well.

I stared at her blonde hair, which was loosely braided over her shoulder, so it rested on her body. She pulled at the end of it restlessly with her dainty hands. She obviously had a hard time sitting still. Her blue eyes were focused on the fields out of the window, probably in an attempt to avoid my gaze. In the sunlight, I could see the outline of her face perfectly. Her nose was small, but had a large bump in the middle of it, obviously a result of it having been broken sometime earlier. Her skin was smooth, but she had almost a dozen tiny scars around her face, and one large one down the left side of her face. She had the markings of abuse. But that didn't change one thing.

For the first time in god knows how long, I found a girl that I truly thought was attractive.

Great. Why did I always have a thing for chicks who were messed up?

If you could all be like Wendy imouto chan, and leave a review, I would love you for eternity. Even if you have questions or criticisms, I would still love to hear them.