Daryl insisted that the tattoo stay covered for two days, and he cleaned it himself, reapplying the salve each time. When he finally let me look at it in the bathroom mirror, I found a tiny Sagittarius constellation on the top of my right shoulder blade. I brushed my fingers over the tender skin softly, in awe of the design he'd done from memory, and the skill it took to get the lines and stars so sharp. Daryl's brilliance was easy to overlook until he did something unexpectedly artistic like this, and of course, this one had intense meaning for me.

I tried to tell him how much I loved it, but he brushed off the compliment and asked me not to show anyone, which kind of hurt. He was still pulling away, and I didn't know why, but it was interspersed with moments of connection that left me confused and often lonely.

It took several weeks to get our trip organized. The first step was for me to write a letter to my family letting them know that I'd made it out of Georgia and wanted to come home. They would need to apply for paperwork from the state of Oregon and from the county so that we could settle there. Once they sent the paperwork, the UN would set up as much transportation help as they could, and try to smooth the road for us getting through different regions, all of whom had separate protocols for travelers.

I sat in the dining hall with pen and paper, trying to figure out what to write. How do you begin a letter to people who probably assume you're dead, and then casually work in a request for them to invite 10 other folks to live with them? Eventually, I decided to keep it fairly short and to the point.

Dear Family,
I have no idea how to begin this letter, except with gratitude that I am one of the lucky few to have been rescued from the Georgia Containment Zone a few days ago. They estimate that only 3% of the population survived, and the fact that I'm sitting in Denver writing to you is a miracle.

The story of the past 20 months will have to wait until I can tell you in person, but the important bit is this - I survived because of a group of people who came together in the midst of a living hell and learned to trust and care for each other. We formed a family, for lack of a better word, and we owe each other our lives.

The UN informs me that we need to have paperwork from the state in which we plan to relocate, allowing us to settle there, and I'm hoping you can make arrangements for all 10 of them, in addition to me. I know that's a lot to ask, but none of them have any other family left, and I cannot imagine breaking us apart if there's any way we can stay together. I've enclosed a list of their names, ages, former occupations, and anything else relevant so that you can apply for the appropriate permissions.

Please write me back as soon as possible, and let me know whether you are willing to welcome us all, and what has transpired at home since the outbreak started. I've imagined every possible scenario, including a complete loss, and I'm anxious to know what's happened.

Love,
Ana

I wrote a second letter to my husband, which was much harder.

Raph:
I'm writing this without knowing who survived and who didn't, but please kiss and hug the kids for me and let them know I've thought of them every day and kept fighting to get home. I'm sorry it took so long.

I've already written to the family as a whole, which you probably know, but I needed to say some things to you privately as well before I get home. I have no idea how things have gone for you, or what you've done to survive, but I'm sure it hasn't been easy. You've had to make difficult choices, as I have, with lasting impact.

I can't really describe the horrors of what I've been through in a letter, but I want to warn you that it has changed me irrevocably. I don't know that I can quantify it, or that I'm even aware of all the ways, but I am decidedly different than when I left for that backpacking trip. Of course, there are parts of me that are still the same, but I've seen and done things that I never could have imagined before, and I know I can't pretend to be the same person I was.

I still love you, along with the whole family, but I cannot pretend that we can go back to being a couple in the same way that we were. I fell in love with someone else in the midst of the horror, and I need you to know that before I get there. I want to still be a family, with the kids as our focus, but obviously, it will look much different than it did before.

I hope you are willing to accept me as I am and work to figure out a new sort of relationship. It's a lot to ask, and I wish things could be easier, but it is what it is.

Now give the kids more kisses and hugs from me and tell them I love them and will get home as soon as the paperwork goes through.

Love,
Ana

The worst part of the facility in which we were housed was that there was very little work that needed to be done, so we were bored to tears. They provided books, but there were no electronic forms of entertainment because the electricity from the solar panels was conserved for lights and hot water.

We spent most of our time working out plans for getting to Oregon or talking to others who were being housed there. We met folks from other communities who had managed to survive the GCZ and shared our stories. Apparently, there were some groups who had chosen not to leave, or who had been located but not rescued because it appeared they had been existing by attacking other groups, and even eating other humans. I sent more thanks to whoever was listening that I'd broken down in front of Daryl's trailer.

Daryl continued to pull away emotionally, though he still came to bed every night and buried himself in me. It was the only time I felt like we were really in sync, and I knew he was avoiding me during the day. He spent a lot of time with Rick, who grilled anyone around for information on the states and communities we'd need to pass through to get to my family, and together they tried to plan for every eventuality.

A week after I sent my letters, I received a reply. My mother had written that of course they were applying for residency papers for everyone in the group, and they would welcome them with open arms. They were all in shock when they received my letter, and would forever be in debt to the folks who helped me survive. They thought it would take about a week to process everything but there was plenty of space for folks to settle, as a lot of people had left to find family after the grid failed, and never returned. They'd lost my grandfather because of a lack of medical care, and some of my siblings had lost in-laws but my nuclear family was intact and all healthy, amazingly.

There was a letter from my husband as well. It was brief, in his familiar scrawl:

Ana,
I'm just glad you're okay. Everything else can be worked out.
-Raph

and below it:

Mommy,
I knew you would come back! Daryl said so and I believed him, even though Daddy said you were gone. I love you and miss you and I cry every night because you aren't here. Please hurry.
Love, Lucy

Mommy,
I missed you a lot. Did you learn how to fight? When you get home I never want you to leave.
Love Luke

I was sobbing by the time I got to the end of the letter, tracing my children's uneven handwriting and trying not to let tears fall and blur the print. I had to search high and low to find Daryl but eventually tracked him down in the transportation shed with Rick. He took one look at my red eyes and I could tell he assumed the worst, but I held out the letter from my husband, and he took it warily.

He turned away from me when he read it, and stood there for a moment before facing me. "And yer parents?" I nodded and held up the other letter. "They're applying for paperwork for everyone, and can't wait to meet you. Rick's face relaxed in relief, and he smiled at me. "I can't wait to meet them either," he said. "I'm going to go tell the others."

"Aren't you happy?" I said quietly after Rick had left and Daryl still hadn't responded. His face softened slightly, and he nodded. "Yah. M'glad yer kids made it and yer family's all healthy." I shook my head in frustration, "Yes, but aren't you happy that we're going together, and we have a place to live? I thought you'd be relieved and glad to be moving on from here, but you're just . . . it's like you don't care at all."

I knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as it came out of my mouth. Daryl's expression hardened and he narrowed his eyes at me. "I never met yer family so I ain't gonna be over the moon about livin' with folks who could turn out to be assholes," he spat. "I'll get ya back, like I promised, but I ain't promisin' I'll stay. Ya can't just force people into yer plans all the time - it ain't just about you." With that, he brushed past me and stormed out of the shed, leaving me bewildered.

I sought out Rick after dinner and asked for a word with him. Michonne was sitting with him and stood to leave, but I motioned her to stay. "I just wondered if you had any insight into why Daryl's been acting so weird lately. I mean, it's hard to explain, he's just . . . it's like in some ways we're back to being strangers and in others, things are exactly the same. He even told me he wouldn't promise to stay once we found my family."

Rick and Michonne exchanged a glance, and he leaned forward over the table to speak quietly. "He doesn't' talk about it really, you know Daryl, but I think he's just preparing himself for the worst." When I started to respond, he held up his hand, "Not that your kids didn't make it, or some other family, but the worst as far as the two of you."

"He thinks I'll leave him?" I asked incredulously and Michonne nodded. "Or maybe stay with him but wish you didn't have to. To be honest, all of us are a little anxious about throwing ourselves at the mercy of a bunch of people who might not like us much once they get to know us."

"I know they're your family," she continued seeing the look on my face, "but you can't just assume everyone's gonna get along. We're an odd bunch, that would hardly have ended up together if we hadn't gone through everything we did, and it's not going to be easy to assimilate into a larger community. He's just protecting himself, preparing for things to fall apart."

"What do I do?" I asked them. "I don't know how to reassure him, or you, because it's all so unknown. I can't predict exactly what will happen, I just have faith that eventually we'll work it out. I love them, I love him, I love all of you, and I'll keep doing that even if you hate each other. It would be hard, but it's not like I can't do hard things."

Michonne put her hand over mine and squeezed, "Yes, but he doesn't want you to have to do hard things. If it looks like him being around is causing you problems, he won't stay." My stomach dropped at the thought of Daryl leaving me, but I knew deep down that she was right. "Promise me you won't let him leave, then." I pleaded desperately. "Rick, he listens to you. I will not be better off without him, even if it causes conflict. I can't . . . I can't imagine not being with him."

Rick sighed, "I'll do my best, I promise. You know how he is though - not exactly forthcoming with what's goin' through his head."

Daryl didn't come to bed that evening, and eventually, I turned out the light and laid there with my stomach in knots. After at least an hour, I heard the click of a key in the lock and he opened the door quietly, clearly expecting me to be asleep. I was on my side, facing the wall, and lay there quietly while he undressed and slipped in beside me. I knew I should talk to him, but I didn't know how to bring the issue up, especially without revealing that I'd talked to Rick about him behind his back so I just pretended to be asleep.

He left a few inches between us in the bed for a long time, lying on his back, and he was so still I thought he'd drifted off when I heard him exhale softly, and turn toward me. He ran his hand lightly over my hair, then ghosted it over my hip, pressing a kiss to the tattoo on my shoulder before turning away. I gave it a moment and then rolled over toward him, still feigning sleep, and settled myself against his side. After a pause, his right arm came to rest on my lower back and I fell asleep, thankful for at least that small act of affection.