Walking Disaster

It wasn't that I wanted to die, I just wanted to stop breathing.

When we, as in anyone, think about breathing: our pattern changes. This is because you don't think about breathing, it's something you do, something your body does for you without question. When you sit back and think, I'm breathing, you may sit up straighter, breathe deeper, hold it in for a bit. Maybe even question if you'd really been breathing the whole time. Because when you don't acknowledge it, you don't feel it, you just do it.

The Walkers don't feel anything, they just do, they just act. They barely acknowledge their existence, let alone breathing. Yes, they are dead but do they still have the instinct, the habit to inhale the oxygen? Or are their lungs so rotted from the inside that there is nowhere for it to go? They have to inhale, from what we know they smell blood, flesh, food. Does that mean they are always breathing, even if it's futile and it's purely for finding food? Or is it an exercise they have to force? Is breathing a choice for them?

I'd never just watched a Walker, and I mean really watched it. We've seen them stumble around, chase after us, we've seen them up close as we stabbed or shot them in the head. But we never took the time to watch and see if they breathe.

I'd been spending a lot of time thinking about breathing, I'd have to try to get into the habit of easy shallow breathing. If I breathed in too deeply, a sharp pain would pierce my chest. When I coughed, which was all the time, it felt like someone was trying to pull my lungs out through my throat.

The only good thing lately, was that my throat no longer hurt as much. As much, it still felt as if there was a bit of sandpaper stuck in there when I swallowed.

Everything hurt, all the time. At first, I'd try to convince myself I slept in a bad position, or I spent too much time walking around and being on my feet. But after so long, without the aches in every muscle going anywhere, it was obvious there was another problem.

Though that day, I could finally blame my aching muscles for strenuous activity.

When the plan was first being discussed, not everyone agreed. Taking out an entire herd of Walkers did not seem smart, even fenced in. Some thought it would be the best plan, taking them all out in a controlled environment.

"It may not be safe now but look at that fence. Look at all the land inside the fence, safe, secure. We could make a life here, we can clean it up. There can't be that many inside. This is too good a place to pass up. We can make this work. These things are spread out enough we may be able to handle them on our own." Rick's eyes were practically glowing with excitement and hope, trying to convince the group. I couldn't remember if I'd ever seen him so hyped up about something.

It bothered me.

I didn't like change, it was confusing and hard to follow, not to mention frustrating and downright tiring. But lately, traveling, going house to house, hiding from Walkers, killing them, that type of change had become normal.

This change was unnerving, the change of having a plan, being excited about it, and actually executing it. When was the last time anyone had a real plan? Months, I was pretty sure.

"This place has got to have a stockpile of canned goods, hopefully, it was overrun by the undead before it could be looted by anyone," Tyreese agreed with him.

"Yeah, hopefully, it's just full of flesh-eating monsters and our baked beans are still intact," T-Dog scoffed, before pausing, as if realizing what he'd said. "Jesus. I'd love some baked beans right now."

A lot of the day was spent on planning, standing around, and then continuously stabbing Walkers. Yes, we did that every day, but not dozens after dozens. From behind a fence no less. It did feel safer to have the upper hand on them, but after so long the metal from the chain-link pushing against your hand would start to hurt.

Rick assigned people to stay on the outside of the Prison Yard, attracting the Walkers through the fence to take them out a few at a time, others went into the yard to execute the ones more spread out before they had a chance to horde themselves together. While everyone else did that, Rick would do the suicide run to close a gate that separated the prison building from the yard.

That launched a whole new discussion. Tyreese offered himself up for it, but Sasha didn't think that someone unable to shoot should go (Tyreese was pretty bad). The plan was to try and stab more then shoot, but if something went wrong, they needed the option. Then Sasha volunteered, and Tyreese wouldn't let her. It was a very annoying, pointless cycle.

When Rick was reasoning why he should go, for the third time. I had enough. I understood the reason why Rick should stay behind, he had Lori and Carl, but Carl didn't seem to mind, and the only reason the others were disagreeing was because of the stupid pregnancy.

Which I was getting really tired of hearing about.

"Lori, this is my plan, my responsibility," Rick had said.

"Your responsibility is to Carl, it's not safe."

"It's not any safer for anyone else."

"Stop. Just let'im." I blurted out, my eyes squeezed shut with annoyance. "He wants to do stupid shit, let him. Find out the hard way . . . No one's safe . . ." After mumbling the last part I rubbed my temple before opening my eyes.

Lori was scowling at me, and I had to fight not to laugh. She'd had a hard time yelling at me in the previous weeks, which only made me want to push her buttons more, wondering when she would finally snap.

"Why should someone else have ta kill 'emselves for his dumb idea?" I pushed at her, almost daring her to have it out with me. I felt Daryl lightly hit my shoulder beside me, I looked up in dismay, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at him. He didn't like it when I did that, and I respected him enough not to do it.

My head was pounding and I was not thrilled about all the work we were preparing to do. I was one of the ones instructed to stay behind the fence and stab a few, but because I was 'so sick' I was allowed to take it slow, as was Lori.

Fuck that. I've barely left the car in days. As much as I wanted to go lay down, I needed to move, I was sick of being locked up and missing out.

After it was decided, finally, and not surprisingly, Rick would be the one to go out, we started.

"Here, don't bother with the toothpicks," Daryl said, referring to the knives around my thigh as he handed me his secondary hunting knife. I didn't disagree, I couldn't throw them through the fence and the knives were too short. "And take it easy. You need a break, take it."

"I won't," I insisted, my tone agitated, though I wasn't sure if I would.

He picked up on the attitude, "ain't my fault you ain't breathin' right."

It was just a joke, referring to the consistent coughing, something I would pretend to laugh at, not this time though. I wiped the angry expression, wanting to appear blank, strong, ready.

"I'll be good."

He nodded, his face becoming relaxed, "you will. And careful."

"Good and careful," I recited, straining my voice to stop myself from coughing. I waited until he walked over to Rick before taking a few steps further to clear my throat aggressively. I coughed a bit then spat out the thick mucus.

As intimidated I was about the number of Walkers, it didn't bother me too much. By that point, I was used to trying dumb things and waiting for them to not work.

A while after, the yard was cleared. I could barely believe it, and looking around at the rest of them, I wasn't the only one.

The last time I believed to see anyone as content as they were around the fire, was when we were at those estates, with all the perfect houses lined up in rows. Everyone was happy, content, excited even. That blew up in our faces, the prison idea would too.

When everyone was relaxed, ready to sleep around the fire in the Prison Yard. Rick announced that some of them would leave for Hershel's farm the next morning. They all discussed it for a while, Rick said he would say who would come the next morning, he only wanted a few bodies.

I hoped Daryl would stay, I didn't want to be left alone with everyone else. Although, that had been happening a lot, considering I wasn't allowed to scavenge or hunt. I dealt with it, I was fine with the others, I just didn't prefer it. I wasn't angry at everyone anymore, just annoyed. Except for Rick.

At night, most people were sleeping, circled around the fire wrapped in their blankets. I was on my sleeping bag, across from the fire with my eyes shut. Right above my head was where Daryl sat.

"You figure it out yet? Tomorrow?" Daryl was asking. I felt his fingers going through a strand of my hair, from the movement I guessed there was a leaf or something stuck. I kept still, pretending to sleep.

"Just two people I think. Maybe me and you, if you're up for it."

"You know I am," Daryl answered, causing me to silently curse Rick. Rick could leave anytime he wanted, he's also welcome to not come back, but he didn't have to drag Daryl away every time. "What about Lori?"

"She's staying."

"She say so?"

"I said so."

"She ain't gonna like it, you goin' off like that. What if we go and she has the baby?"

There it was again. The baby. It was getting exhausting, always hearing about Lori, the baby, the pregnancy. I was beginning to wonder if she would ever stop being pregnant, it was certainly hard to imagine. Her stomach looked so odd and round, almost fake as if it would suddenly deflate if poked.

"That's why she's staying." I heard Rick respond. "If something happens on the way to Hershel's . . . No, she's better here, it's fenced in. It's safer than being on the road."

"You said you wanted Hershel to look at her as soon as possible. What if he doesn't want to come?"

"I'll convince him."

"And if he's not there?"

Silence, all I could hear was the crackling of the fire and the soft snores of the others. The moments stretched, after a bit, I began to wonder if Rick had finally laid down.

"If we can convince them to come," Rick continued after the long stretch of quiet., ignoring Daryl's question. "If we can convince them to come and stay here, there'll be an infirmary inside. Once we have the hands to get to it."

"Sounds like a stretch."

Yeah, no kidding. I agreed.

"Just look at this place, it'll be worth it."

Daryl let out a soft sigh, sounding tired. "It better be."

Then it was quiet. I only heard the sound of crickets and cicadas in the distance as I felt my mind go heavy with sleep.

Just as I felt myself fall asleep, I was awake. My eyes were open, staring at the fire as I sat across from it. I didn't remember sitting up. On the other side of the fire, directly across from me was where Rick sat, which wasn't where he was before. Looking around I saw everyone was up, all quiet and staring at the fire. The sky was brighter, dawn was just about to break.

Everything felt weird and blurry.

The movement behind Rick caught my attention. A Walker was stumbling toward him, it's hands reaching out. I couldn't see it clearly for some reason, I could only see the way it wobbled and knew what it was.

I peered around at the others, no one noticed, no one even moved, they all stared at the fire in silence. When I opened my mouth to try, I felt myself groan in pain, but there were no words.

Shit, that hurts. Why does it hurt? I heard myself asking, but I was confused. What hurts? Why does it hurt so bad? What is it?

The Walker was on Rick, it's arms latched around his body as it sunk its teeth into his neck and tore it apart. There was so much blood, but I did nothing but watch. No one else looked up from the fire. Rick didn't even scream, his mouth was open, and his face was contorted in shock or pain, but there was no sound.

I watched him suffer, something I'd been secretly fantasizing about for months. I watched, fascinated by the blood and life being taken from his body.

Make it stop, does it really hurt?

I kept wondering about the pain, why it hurt, where it hurt if anything was really happening. I felt myself groan again as I felt the throbbing in my ear. I reached up, feeling the ache down my neck. I looked around as if I would see a reason for the pain.

Everything in front of me became blurred as the pain increased. I couldn't help the sounds escaping myself.

"How long has she been like this?" Someone said but I couldn't tell who.

"I'm not sure, I only heard her now," I heard Lori speak. When I looked over, I saw her mouth moving, but her gaze stayed on the fire. "She's pale, something's wrong."

"What was your first clue?"

There was pressure on my shoulders and I felt myself being shook, the throbbing in my ear exploded and I yelped.

When I opened my eyes, it was bright out, and Daryl was leaning over me. I was still in my sleeping bag. When did I sleep? Did I sleep? I could only imagine that if I had, it was only for a few minutes, yet it was morning.

"What is it, girl?" he pressed.

I grimaced and groaned again, my head foggy with sleep and pain. I reached up to place my hand over my ear and almost winced, even lightly touching the lobe gave a whole new ache.

I pushed him away with my free hand, not wanting him so close. I turned my head slightly, squinting at the brightness, Lori was right above me too.

"Toby, what is it? What's wrong?" Daryl kept pressing, I wanted to tell him to shut up. But obviously I'd been making noise in my sleep or something. But it was hard to get all my thoughts together.

I felt cold and hot at the same time. I could tell my skin was hot, burning almost, it must've been like that for a while. My body was coated in sweat, making me feel damp and cold. I shivered.

"Hurts," I murmured through clenched teeth.

"What hurts, hon?" Lori questioned.

Looking up at her I saw Rick standing just a few feet away, he looked worried. I narrowed my eyes at the absence of blood on his neck. "You got eat," I said, the words coming out before I knew it.

"What?" Daryl's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Lori placed a hand on my forehead, I turned my head to try and get it off but stopped the movement when I winced in pain. Lori's inhaled rather loudly, "she's burning up, bad. She may have had a fever dream."

"That why she's actin' weird?" Daryl asked her but stared at me. I shot him a glare as I dug my nails into my scalp, right above my ear.

"Is it your head, is that what's hurting?" Rick quizzed me. "We can't help unless you tell us what's going on."

I wanted to yell at them all to shut up, to stop asking. But I knew they wouldn't, I just wanted the pain to stop.

"Ear," I finally got out. The more awake I was, the more pain I felt, as if sleep was somehow masking it. "Hurts, a lot. What ya gonna do 'bout it?"

Ignoring my outburst at Rick, Daryl coaxed me to sit up, my hand still hovering over my ear protectively, without directly touching it. The throbbing and intense ache only increased, my eyes watered and I fought back a sob.

"Le'me look," Daryl pulled at my wrist. I held my hand firmly in place, when he tugged at me again, I reluctantly let go. "It's all red. Don't know what that means."

"Could be from her pulling on it," I heard T-Dog say.

"When we goin' to Hershel's?" Daryl asked, keeping his eyes on me.

"Whenever you're ready," Rick responded. "Do you want to bring her?"

"Should we?"

"If we bring her, something could happen, we could get stuck or-"

"-something could happen here," Daryl interrupted. His gaze on me was questioning, he looked confused and concerned. I really wasn't enjoying the attention. I wanted to wrap myself in my sleeping bag and hide, but I kept myself still, as if any movement would be the death of me.

"There isn't a right answer," Sasha said. "But this is a different case than Lori, Lori needs to stay off her feet. If this man has any medicine, an antibiotic, you want to get it into her system as soon as possible. You said it could take you all day to get there, it's a risk either way."

Rick rubbed his eyes, "Hershel blew through a lot of his medicine because of us, but it's possible he found more, or he has something that could help. It could be better to get her there quickly so she can take whatever he has right away. But it could be better for her to stay and rest."

Daryl huffed, "you ain't helping."

"It's up to you."

"Why me?"

"Because even if we decide, you have to agree with it. She can't make a decision like this herself, she doesn't know her limits. You might."

As much as I wanted to snap again, tell them it wasn't up to anyone but me, I actually agreed with him. Everything in my body felt so wrong, I was sick and tired of being sick, it felt like my ear was exploding inside of me. Part of me wanted to stay here, try and sleep under the covers, as if the pain would be gone when I woke up. The other part of me wanted to come and beg them to give me whatever they had to make it stop.

Daryl stared at me, as if I would give him the answer. But I only stared back, hoping to get the same thing from him.

Tell me what to do, I gave him a pleading look. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. Please, I just want it to stop.

When I blinked I felt tears fall and a sob broke through, which seemed to push Daryl to a decision.

"Fuck it," he said, helping me stand. "Let's go."

T-Dog was frowning, shaking his head, "assuming this goes well . . . I mean this aside, I miss Glenn as much as anyone but can we really bring them here? They didn't want us to stay, why would they want to come here with us?"

"Hershel had a lot going on, so did we with . . ." Rick was quick to defend, but also quick to lose his words. Say it, I silently dared, say his name. What exactly did we have going on? "He's a farmer, a vet, we need him. He could plow up some of those fields out there and we could grow food inside the fence."

I let out a quiet scoff that went unnoticed. Of course he wouldn't say it, pussy.

"It's safer here anyway. I don't think its right to just leave them miles away knowing we've got plenty of room in here. With Glenn, Jimmy, Patricia, Hershel and his kids, we could clean up this place in no time. With Hershel here growing food and teaching us to farm we could make a life here long term."

Daryl and Rick grabbed their things. I put Shane's hat on and checked the ammo in my gun, it wasn't full, but I still had a decent bit. Everyone said goodbye, Carl told me to be careful, I only nodded at him, I was hurting too much to give him much acknowledgment.

Tyreese came with us to help us through the hole in the fence we made and to the cars, just in case more Walkers came. We took the SUV, in case we needed more seats. Daryl was in the passenger and Rick was driving. I laid myself down slowly in my back seat, trying to hold back my tears and sobs.

Stop being a baby, I scolded myself. It's just an ear, it's fine, stop crying. Slowly, I took a sip out of the water bottle Daryl had given me, trying not to tilt my head too far back.

In the back seat, I tried to rest, I fell in and out of sleep for a while, the pain in my ear keeping me from sleeping too deeply.

One of the times I woke up, my ear felt much weirder, and it wasn't just the pain. I traced the outside of my ear lightly with my finger, trying to think of how to describe it. Somehow, my ear felt full, as if there was something inside. Things sounded a bit muffled, like something was stuffed in my ear blocking the sounds.

"It could just be an ear infection, plenty of them go away on their own," Rick was reasoning, gaining my attention. They thought I was still asleep. "Even if we could find some Advil she may be right again."

"Sounds like bullshit. Never seen her like that before, she's too sick. Somethin's wrong."

Annoyed, I grabbed the water bottle I dropped on the floor, it was less than half full. I hurled it into the front, just missing Daryl and hitting the dashboard. "Stop talkin' 'bout me."

Daryl was across from me in the passenger, he tossed the water bottle back on the floor in front of me. "Don't be throwin' shit."

"Don't be talkin' 'bout me," I shot back after clearing my throat.

"Don't be pissy," he said right back without hesitation. "Just tryin' to help an' figure shit out."

Talking about it isn't going to do anything, we already know what's going on. Repeating the same shit over and over does nothing. That was what I wanted to say, but it would take too much effort and probably hurt. Instead, I gave him the finger.

Daryl held his hand up, giving it right back to me, "this is me giving a damn."

I groaned in annoyance, "shut up and drive."

"I ain't drivin'."

"Shut up an' let him drive then!" I snapped, my throat burned when I raised my voice

Rick eyed me through the rearview mirror, I could see the amusement in his eyes, "what, you think your bickering is gonna distract me? You care about my safety now?"

I glared back at him through the mirror, "No." He didn't look away but his amusement was gone. I continued to stare back at him, making it clear his joke failed until he finally averted his gaze.

It took all day to get there. For most of the drive, I drifted in and out of sleep. A few times I'd forgotten the whole group wasn't with us, that we were going to Hershel's. I tried not to think about what we'd find there, about Maggie and Glenn. It had taken a while to get used to Glenn not being around, his weak attempts to joke around and try to play down the situation. Maggie I only knew for a few weeks, but I missed her. She had a calming presence, and something else about her just made me feel comfortable.

I tried not to think about both of them as Walkers, wandering around the yard. I tried not to think about everything that had happened there, about Dale, Randall, Sophia, Carol, Shane.

I tried. But of course I still thought about it all.

A few times the car had to stop, either the men had to take a leak, or they had to push cars and other things off the road.

When the sun began to set, the car went still, which was what made me open my eyes.

"There's so many."

Daryl shook his head, he looked down at his lap. I couldn't see his expression, but I knew it wasn't good.

I forced myself to sit up, wincing as my ear throbbed. Though I could tell it wasn't as bad as it was in the morning. I felt something on my earlobe, something warm, yet it began to cool when the air hit the substance.

I lifted my hand to my ear, wiping the wet substance from it. I looked at my hand, looking at what seemed to be water. I squinted my eyes, confused, trying to remember the last time I'd washed up. Did I get water in my ear? But after racking my brain, it had been at least two weeks, we'd found a creek and everyone attempted to wash up. That was the last time my hair even got wet.

I opened my mouth to say something, but when I finally looked around, my words were gone.

We were at the Greene farm, parked in front of the closed gates. In front of us, all in the yard, near the barn, around the house, were Walkers stumbling around.

I saw the graves in the front, Carol, Sophia, that man from Hershel's family. I couldn't remember his name. There was another grave, did they bury Randall?

"The windows are boarded, from the inside," Daryl commented.

"Could mean someone is still home," Rick said.

"Shit, kill the engine," Daryl said hurriedly, some Walkers that were close by heard the car, they began turning around and rushing to get closer.

Rick obeyed, turning the key. They sat in silence as they decided what to do. There were a lot of Walkers on the farm, but most of them hadn't taken notice, so we could easily turn and get away.

"We're still safe," Rick said. "We could drive upright to the house, or leave the car here."

"Or we could leave. House looks dead, Rick."

Rick turned to Daryl and shook his head, "isn't that how you'd want it to look if you were in there? We came this far, burned through a lot of gas, for what? Just to turn around. No, we go in."

Daryl sighed, "fine, we leave the car then. There's . . . five comin' our way. We can deal with them quietly, maybe get to the house without attractin' attention."

Rick nodded in agreement, Rick brought out his small axe, while Daryl did the same with his crossbow. When we got out of the car, I took it slow, I wanted to ask to stay behind but I knew that wasn't the better option. I made sure to grab my hat that had fallen off while I was asleep.

Outside of the car, Daryl handed me his smaller hunting knife. He warned me not to try and take the Walkers down, to just stay close behind and not make any noise.

I was fine with not doing anything, the number of Walkers in the distance made my stomach churn with anxiety. Though the thought of being quiet made my throat burn, I could feel the irritation creeping up my throat, demanding attention.

Daryl and Rick fought quickly and silently, carefully moving to the front porch.

When we were finally in front of the house, Daryl shot a Walker that stood right in front of the stairs.

Standing on the porch, I looked around worriedly, a few more Walkers were headed our way, while others that were further hadn't noticed us just yet. Daryl stood in a protective stance, ready to shoot if needed.

Rick knocked on the door hurriedly, but not too loud, "Hershel? Hello?"

I was finally distracted from the horrible pain in my ear. I felt as if I could hear Shane yelling, I could hear his panicked, angry voice yelling about Randall or the Walkers in the barn. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force the image out of my head of Randall's body falling after being shot.

"Hello? Rick kept knocking, "anyone there? Please, it's Rick!"

Shane was ripped from my mind when I heard the door open.

"Keep your voice down," I heard someone say, "inside, quickly."

Without hesitation we obeyed. Finally, after talking about it for months, there we were, standing in the doorway, in front of Hershel.

Hershel looked much different. Unkempt and tired. His hair was longer, and he was no longer clean-shaven, he'd grown a small white beard.

I felt so out of place, suddenly I just wanted to get back to the prison yard. Being back inside the house reminded me of so much I was able to avoid. What happened to Dale, Sophia and Carol had been brought to the surface of my thoughts. The sounds Dale had been making when he was gutted, Carol's constant crying and her scream.

I could see her face clearly, how she looked as she laid on her deathbed, her bandaged stump of an arm still bleeding. Then the sound of the gunshot when Shane killed her.

The guilt made me feel sick, I was still the only one that knew.

"Rick!" Glenn pulled him in for a hug, which I thought was weird. "Holy crap! We saw the car pull up, we didn't want to believe it. It's been so long, I was beginning to wonder . . . with how bad it is just outside, how bad you might be having it."

Rick pulled away, "it's been a struggle. We've hit some hard times. But we've made it through."

"Everyone? Where are they?" Glenn was smiling, taking Daryl's hand and shaking while patting his back with the other hand.

"Everyone. We haven't lost anyone." Rick responded. "Though I can't say we haven't come close. They're safe, we found a good place, fences, walls. Took us all day to drive here."

Glenn turned to me, offering his hand with a smile, "it's good to see you."

Awkwardly, I reached out and took it without saying a word. When I didn't smile or give a reaction his expression faltered a bit, looking equally as awkward as I felt.

"I'm glad," Hershel gave a small, sad smile, reaching his hand out to take Ricks. "I'm glad you're all safe. How is your wife? She must be due soon."

Rick accepted his hand, shaking it, "she is. She's doing all right, for the most part."

"Is that why you're here? As you can see, this won't be suitable for a woman giving birth. . . it's gotten bad."

"It's been getting worse every day," Glenn revealed. "They took the last of the cows, we set the horses free a while back. We didn't know what else to do. We thought they'd pass by but more kept coming, they . . ."

"We've lost Patricia," Hershel finished for him. "Three weeks ago now. We were able to bury her before it got as bad as it did."

"The Walkers get her?" Daryl asked

"She was bitten," Hershel looked away. "She wanted to wait it out. She didn't want to accept it, none of us did. But her fever hit, she couldn't fight it."

"I'm sorry," Rick put his hand on Hershel's shoulder.

"Come and sit. We'll talk more, I'll get you something to drink. I'd offer you food, but I'm afraid there isn't much to go around."

"You doing all right?" Glenn asked me as the others followed Hershel down the hall, I heard them greeting Beth and the guy beside her, I forgot his name. Glenn tilted his head, as if he was studying me, "you look . . . Tired."

I could tell he had picked that word carefully, I knew how I looked, I could see it in the way everyone watched me every day. It was weird seeing him again after so long, which made it harder to answer, Do I tell him how shitty I feel?

"Uh, right," he rubbed the back of his neck, seeing that I wasn't going to talk. "Oh, I'll go get Maggie, she's taking a nap upstairs."

As he left, I made my way down the hall to the others, trying not to watch him go. I wanted to keep turning my head in his direction, to watch until Maggie came into sight.

I forced myself to look back at Rick, Daryl, anyone really. I was silently trying to figure out why it was so important I saw her as soon as she came out.

Rick was sitting on the couch across from Hershel, he was speaking to the young man beside him, the one that was always with Beth. Beth was sitting across from them with her father. Beth looked at me and gave me a sweet smile, I just looked down, walking over to where Daryl was.

Daryl was leaning against the wall beside the couch, when I stood beside him, he motioned to where Rick was sitting, silently instructing me to do the same. My legs were sore, I wanted to sit and rest, but I shook my head.

I shut my eyes where I felt an odd, crackling sensation in my ear. I reached up, feeling around it, it didn't feel as wet, but it felt sticky.

I didn't want to say anything, but it was hurting badly. I looked up at Daryl with my hand on my ear, hoping he'd get the message.

Daryl nodded at me and lifted his index finger, telling me to wait. I wanted to scream, but I understood. Hershel didn't like us very much, if we wanted his help we had to be careful.

"Toby! Oh my gosh," Maggie was rushing down the steps, Glenn trailing behind her. She stopped in front of me, running her hands down both my arms, squeezing them assuringly. I thought she was going to hug me, I think she almost did but stopped herself.

"I was so worried," she said, smiling, although her eyes seemed sad. "Look at you, you look taller."

That sounds like a lie, I thought. She opened her mouth to say something else, placing both her hands on each side of my face, I felt the corner of my lips turning upward. She seemed so happy, excited, and for what? Just me? She wasn't even looking at anyone else in the room.

But all that stopped when her thumb brushed over my ear, I could part of the palm of her hand pressing against my neck, right where my ear canal would be. I pulled away and yelped in an odd sound, a mix of pain and surprise.

"Shit," I heard Daryl say.

"What? What happened?" Maggie sounded worried, "did I do something?"

I looked at Daryl as he pulled me closer to him, as I stood in front of him he looked over my head at the rest of them, "Rick."

I knew why they hadn't brought me up, it was odd being reunited and figuring out which to come up with next. All the bullshit we traveled through, my cold, the prison. I didn't want the attention to fall on me, but fuck, it hurt so bad.

"Could we continue this talk later, there is actually another reason we came by, well, a few actually but this is more pressing."

"And what is that?" Hershel asked, his voice cautious. I wouldn't look at them, instead, I just leaned my head into Daryl's stomach.

"We'd hate to impose. You've done so much for us before, and we don't what to make-"

"-Out with it, son."

"She's been sick for a while, too long. We thought it was just a cold but it hasn't been improving. In fact, it seems to be getting worse."

Hershel went quiet, thinking it over. I let myself cough, trying to get rid of the irritation in my throat, which turned out to be a mistake because once I started, I couldn't stop. Glenn had rushed to get water while Daryl guided me to the couch, Rick stood to give more space while watching, unsure of what to do.

Hershel talked me through it, reminding me to breathe and guiding me through the fit.

"Maggie, closet by the door, my bag please," Hershel instructed as I drank.

"What makes you think so?"

"Pardon?" Rick questioned, turning his attention from me to Hershel.

"What makes you think she's getting worse, not better? What differences do you see from when this started?"
To my surprise, it was Daryl who started talking. He went on about me losing my voice, barely able to talk through the pain. And though I'd been able to talk more lately, my cough had been a lot worse. He talked about how different the cough sounded than before, how it kept me up at night and if I was able to sleep, it kept everyone else up. I cringed when he said the last part, but looking over at him I could tell, he wasn't complaining, he didn't even look annoyed.

When I thought he'd be finished, he kept going. He told Hershel about how bad my breathing had gotten, he didn't seem to know how to word it as he said, "her nose got weird, she can't breathe normal half the time."

I knew my sickness had been public knowledge, but hearing it all from Daryl, how closely he'd watched and listened to me over the months . . . I was shocked. Something in me made me want to reach out, or lean on him again.

"How long since the symptoms started?" Hershel opened a brown leather bag Maggie had brought out. He sat on the coffee table right in front of me.

"Almost two months now, maybe," Rick offered with uncertainty.

"She was freakin' out this mornin', had a fever," I cringed when Daryl started talking again. "Somethin' 'bout her ear, she was ballin' and whinin' all day."

I sent him a glare, was not.

Hershel held out a hand for him to stop, "enough. Space, please, gentlemen. I think we'd both prefer not to be crowded." He gave me a smile and winked.

I felt myself relaxing a little at his calming presence, feeling much better when the men took a step back.

Hershel instructed me to open my mouth, I did what he said and he shined a very small flashlight into my mouth. I felt something touch my tongue and I jumped.

Hershel held up the popsicle stick for me to see, I stared at it, confused. Instead of asking, I opened my mouth again, feeling the stick press down on my tongue.

When that was done, he pulled something else from his bag, some metal tool. He asked which ear was bothering me, I pointed to my left.

"Take off your hat and turn your head please," Reluctantly, I did as I was told. But when I felt the cold metal brush against my outer ear I pulled away again. I got a closer look at the tool. Is he putting something in my ear?

Hershel sighed.

"It's just like a check-up with any doctor. He's trying to help," Maggie told me.

I looked up at Daryl, he met my eyes before turning to Maggie, "she ain't seen one before, I think."

Maggie seemed confused, "what, a doctor?"

I shook my head. Then it was silent for a few moments, Hershel and Maggie exchanged glances.

"This will just let me take a look inside your ear," Hershel began to explain, "and I can find out what the problem is."

I know the problem, maybe if I tell him he won't have to do it? So I told him, "I think it's leakin'."

"Pardon me?"

"I think it's leakin'."

"What?" Daryl blurted, I turned to him and he had a very stupid look on his face, how many times do I have to say it?

"I think my ear is leaking!" I say louder, and a bit slower, my voice hoarse as I glared at Daryl with annoyance.

"What does that even mean?" Daryl still had a stupid look on his face.

"That it's leakin'?" I said quieter, trying not to yell.

"When did it start?" Hershel asked. I only shrugged, unsure if it had been happening in my sleep for a while.

Daryl stepped closer to Hershel so he was in front of me, "why didn' you say anything?"

I gave him a look and motioned to Hershel, indicating I just did tell him.

"I mean before, why didn't ya say somethin'?"

"What were ya gonna do?" I asked. It was annoying enough having the pain in the car, and for Rick and Daryl to ask how I was doing every five minutes. They knew my ear hurt and couldn't do anything, what would he do except continue to bother me if he knew about it leaking?

"Let's have a look," Hershel insisted. I gave him a disconcerting look, unhappy that he still wanted to see.

Everyone was watching me, while Hershel was trying to get my attention, I couldn't help but glance anxiously around the room.

"Maggie, dear, why don't you take your sister and everyone out of the room. Please."

"Sure thing," Maggie said. I watched as she beckoned her sister and the other boy out, followed by Glenn.

I kept thinking about the time Maggie helped with my feet, when I helped her with dinner. There was always something different in the way she spoke to me, not condescending like Lori, or overbearing and awkward like everyone else. I could almost feel that same difference in the way she was watching me.

I checked to make sure Daryl was still standing beside me, he was.

I let Hershel turn my head and stick the metal tool into my ear. I winced, it felt sensitive, hurting a bit with any contact. After a moment he turned my head to look in the other ear before putting the tool down. Then he pulled something out of his bag that was a bit more familiar, I'd seen it before, maybe in pictures or commercials. It was something the doctors put around their necks and sometimes in their ears to listen to a heartbeat.

After being instructed to, I took off the sweater I was wearing. It was an old worn one T-Dog found and gave to me, I liked wearing it better than the noisy coat. When Hershel said he would have to go under my shirt, I knew he would, I'd seen it somewhere before. I couldn't remember where, probably on TV. Instead of sitting still and letting him do it like I planned, I flinched and pulled myself away.

The touch was weird, not just with the cold metal, but being touched in general. My skin seemed to twitch at the odd sensation and a shiver ran down my spine. Daryl would touch my shoulder or back every so often, but over a coat or thick sweater.

I took a deep breath while closing my eyes, trying to calm the anxiety and act normal. I felt him pause over both sides of my chest, asking me to breathe in. I coughed a bit, clearing my throat before he did the same thing while placing the flat tool on my back, two more breaths.

Pulling his hands away, he held them in front of my face, slowly bringing them closer. I closed my eyes and felt him press on either side of my nose, I winced at the subtle pain.

"Sensitive?" He asked. When I nodded, he moved his fingers to my neck, pressing around right under my jaw, which hurt worse.

"Head up," I heard a click and opened my eyes to a bright light shining in my nose. He pulled away and I saw another tool being put away, it looked like the ear one, maybe it was the same one.

Hershel gave a heavy sigh, "I have bad news and I have . . . well, news."

"Just say it. Some are sayin' it's pneumonia. That it?"

Hershel's eyes danced between me and Daryl. I knew the look right away. Should I talk to the kid? I hate that look. Usually, I'd let it go, let the adults talk, but this was about me. So I kept my eyes hard, waiting for him to speak.

"She has a sinus infection," he finally said. "It probably progressed from a simple cold, as you were describing."

"Sinus infection," Daryl repeated, his expression blank. "How bad? What's the other news?"

"That was the other news. Bad news . . ." Hershel looked at me again, his expression was more troubled than before. "The bad news is that the infection spread into both of your ears, they are infected as well."

I blinked a few times, really confused. I opened my mouth for a question but had no idea how to ask.

Hershel pointed to my nose, "it started here, maybe a little cold, simple virus. But all here, your nose, throat, ears and eyes, all connected. Your eyes seem fine, but your ears got the brunt of it."

"Only one hurts," was all I could say. My stomach was in knots, I knew from the way he was looking at me, it was bad. Even if I didn't understand it all.

"So what now?" Daryl asked.

"I'm not finished," There was so much hesitation in his voice, it made me feel nauseous. "The infection in her left ear has gotten . . . severe. It's caused a small rupture in her eardrum."

"What the fuck," Daryl blurted, looking just as lost as I felt. "How . . . I don't get it. Don't most ear infections just go away?"

"At times. Her sinus infection went untreated for too long, fluids behind her eardrum accumulated too much pressure, causing some damage. That was what the leaking was."

"So . . . What does that mean? It's gonna get worse? Can she hear?"

"Her hearing may be slightly affected, but if treated quickly it'll return."

"So how do we treat it?"

Hershel was silent, but it wasn't hesitation. He stood and motioned his hand for Daryl to follow him. "Maggie, that bag from the pharmacy, bring it into the kitchen please," he called out into the house.

I watched Daryl leave, but he didn't look back at me. I was expecting him to tell me to stay, because I could tell that it was implied, but he didn't.

I tried to understand the whole ear-thing, it was weird. Both of them were infected but I could only feel one? Was it because the other hurt so bad? Why did it get so bad? I was pretty sure rupture meant broken, so my ear was broken somehow.

I almost didn't want to know anymore, I liked it better before I knew what was wrong. Hershel had pulled Daryl away to talk about me, but why? What else was there? Was my broken ear not enough?

I stood up and crept into the hallway, I was slow, making sure I made no sound. I heard Rick's voice, then Daryl's, they'd filled him in.

"What's the alternative?" Rick asked.

"There isn't one, as I said, she needs antibiotics," Hershel responded.

"But you don't have any, and right now we don't either. Is there something else we can give her?"

"Painkillers, antiinflammatories. But that won't fix it."

"A woman in our group," Rick went on, "we met her and her brother a while back. She was a firefighter, she said Toby might have pneumonia, are we sure that isn't what this is?"

"No, I never ruled that out. She has a sinus infection, and bilateral ear infection. I can confirm that, I can't rule out pneumonia without an x-ray or blood test."

Daryl grumbled a string of curses.

"We'll find what she needs, we'll keep searching houses pharmacies. We may have a new lead, it's actually one of the reasons we came here-"

"-What if we don't?" Daryl cut Rick off. "What happens if she doesn't get the medicine? Can it go away on its own?"

"Daryl," Rick said softly. I bit my lip, the anxiousness in me grew. Any time they had talked about it, Daryl always said it would be fine. He would say I'd get better or we'd find something to help, now the roles were reversed.

It took Hershel a while to speak, I almost thought he would say nothing. Unfortunately, he answered.

"The fluid that came out could have gone another way. If that rupture doesn't heal on its own, and the infection may not let it, it will get worse. If left for too long she could have hearing loss . . . that fluid could go into her brain. She could get meningitis."

What does that mean? I'd never heard that word before. Could I really lose my hearing? What the fuck is going on?

"This could be why her cough has worsened, telling us it may not be pneumonia. The postnasal drip going down her throat making it irritated and-"

"-What is it?"

I jumped out of my skin at Maggie's voice, staring up at her with wide eyes.

"What is it?" She repeated.

I closed my mouth tightly, trying to calm my racing heart. I shook my head and hurried back into the living room. When I was on the couch, I could hear their voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

Daryl came into the room a bit later, holding a water bottle in one hand and something hidden in the other. No one else came into the room.

He handed me the water and sat beside me, releasing a heavy sigh. "You're a walking disaster, girl, y'know that?"

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"No don't, I didn't mean . . . fuck, just ignore me. Take these," He opened his palm, showing me four pills. Two of them were oval-shaped blue gel capsules. The others were a yellowish colour and a shape I couldn't describe.

"For the pain, and other medicine."

"You told me not ta take weird pills."

"So you'll take somethin' from Merle but not me?"

I almost smiled at the banter. One at a time I swallowed the pills, following each with water.

"The weird ones are antibiotics, not the right ones you need but might do something. Said they're for skin infection or somethin', I dunno."

I watched him silently, I wondered if he would tell me what Hershel said, or if he'd lie.

"I hate doctors," he said. "I know he ain't one, but hell, I still hated all of that. I didn't know what he even meant half the time. He told me what ya needed, what I have ta get. Don't make me feel no better."

"We never find medicine," I commented.

"The prison will have some."

"Thought you didn't want to do it, the prison."

Daryl looked away, taking the water from me to have a drink, "I need you to work yer ass off tomorrow. Every hand counts. I know yer hurtin', it's all gonna fuckin' suck. But this is all we got."

"Tomorrow?"

"Rick's tellin' Hershel about the prison, whether or not they're comin' we're leaving when they're done talkin'. We need to get back and get started."

"You always make me wait in the car."

"Didn't yesterday."

"'Cause the cars were too far."

"Smartass," he nudged my shoulder. "Just listen good and kill as many of those dead things as you can. We get in there, find that infirmary, you'll be fine."

"It's really bad," I said slowly, testing the waters.

Slowly his head turned to me, looking me hard in the eyes, "Yeah. We gotta do what we always do, keep fightin', keep pushin'. That's why I need you tomorrow, I prob'ly ain't gonna be with ya."

My mouth opened immediately to argue. He wasn't with me the day before when I was killing Walkers through the fence, but I could see him the whole time. But this time we were talking about inside the building.

"Don't," he warned me. "You and everyone else's gotta work their asses off. Some of us are gonna be pushin' further than the rest. It's gotta be done right. I need to know you're gonna be fine and let me do that."

I looked down at my torn up shoes, the duct tape on the one was fraying and losing its stick. I wanted nothing to do with the prison idea,but the hollowness in my stomach disagreed. Daryl wanted to do this, he was telling me how important it was, how everyone needs to help. I understood why he was suddenly so ready for a plan he was reluctant with in the first place.

We didn't have a choice. And learning about whatever was wrong with me was a push.

I needed medicine. Everyone needed food. Lori probably needed medicine and shelter for the baby.

It was all we had, so we had to fight for it together. There was no time for hesitation.

The words long-term, crops, and food, were thrown around a lot.

After some of their talk, Hershel had left the kitchen, Rick following behind as he ranted about the prison.

Hershel stopped in the living room, where Daryl and I still sat and looked around. Maggie and Glenn had joined us. Maggie was sitting on the opposite couch, while Glenn was at the window across the room. For a few minutes, he'd been jabbing a sharpened broom handle through the boards over the window, putting down Walkers that'd been too close and banging on the window.

"It's a quiet day," Maggie told me when he started. She looked assured when she said that as if relieved. Most of the Walkers on the property didn't seem to know they existed unless getting too close to hear the conversation.

I watched Hershel, who in turn was watching Glenn.

"The fence will hold, it's a concrete building. With all the dead there's no chance anyone got in there before we did." Rick was saying.

"All the dead," Hershel repeated, still staring at Glenn across the room. "They're all still there. Waiting for us to put them out of their misery? For what? So we can take the building and all that's in it?"

"Yes . . ." Rick said, looking excitable yet sad somehow. "Like I said the yard is safe, we need the help to clear them out. You said yourself we need the food-"

"-You want this? You want to live in a prison? Have your baby born in a cell, your son growing up behind tenfoot fences and bars?"

"I want them . . . to be safe. I want my family to have a chance, this is the chance. With or without you we won't waste it."

Hershel ran a hand over his face, glancing at his eyes they seemed to be glazed over. I averted my gaze then, the emotional look on his face made me feel awkward.

"We came here, not just for my wife, not just for Toby. We came here to share this chance with you, to share a life and thrive in what could very well be our only option. You and your family deserve it just as much as we do. This is for all of us, and it could work. Together."

The air in the room felt heavy and awkward. Rick had nothing else to say, I knew he was done. No matter what Hershel decided we would leave and follow through with Rick's plan.

When the silence felt as if it would go on forever I looked up, just in time to see Hershel walking forward. He stopped in front of where Maggie sat, raising his hand to stroke the side of her head. Hershel let out a heavy breath as Maggie reached up and squeezed his wrist."

"That . . ." Hershel finally started, speaking slowly, "that makes a whole lot of sense."

I'm back!

Sorry for my absence.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was weird finishing it up, just because of Toby's sickness and the Pandemic going around the world. I started this idea in December so it's just such odd timing. I hope You're all safe and healthy.

No college or classes or placement for me. Just at home all day so expect another chapter soon.

I'm sorry it's so long, I'm also sorry for mistakes. I did not edit. I just wanted to post and move on for now.

Let me know what you think.