It was late. Far too late for her to be up. The moon was nearly full that night, but she was thirsty, so she'd ambled out into the hallway, scrubbing at her tired eyes with the back on her hand and smacking her dry mouth absently, making a face at the odd taste in her mouth before making up her mind to head downstairs for a drink of water.

She made her way down the hall, toes curling into the carpet, t-shirt and jeans wrinkled from sleep. She padded down the hallway, gray moonlight illuminating her path as she headed for the stairwell, mind clouded by the recent sleep.

She almost didn't notice the man perched at the top of the stairwell, picture frame in hand, as he watched her.

She froze for a moment, shocked. The silver moonlight tangled in his beard and long hair, and for a split second she was frozen, just waiting for him to close the space between them and strangle her to death in the hallway before trying to kill the rest of the house...

Before she could say a word the shadow that was Carl Grimes materialized, pistol cocking as he moved and put the barrel to the man's head.

"What the hell are you doing in our house?" he hissed, The man smiled slightly, remaining calm despite the fact he had a gun held to his head.

"I'm sitting on the steps, looking at a painting, waiting for your mom and dad to get dressed."

Carl froze at the statement, not understanding. His mother was dead.

But as soon as the confusion had shown on his face, it faded, replaced with a scowl. "Jamie..."

She already knew what to do, and she ducked behind him, into his room, tugging his dresser drawer open and pawing aside the boxer shorts and pairs of socks, pulling his spare pistol out from within the clothes and loading it with shaky hands.

She mumbled a quick prayer, struggling to calm her racing nerves. It'd been so long since she'd had to kill, she hoped she wouldn't have to do it again tonight. Not when she wasn't prepared, in the silence of the night- not like this.

Still, she took a breath to steady shaking hands before she ducked back into the hallway, training her pistol on the man's head and keeping her distance, ready to move in case he lunged for Carl.

The man simply smiled that insanely calm smile. He had nice teeth, considering dentists were in short supply. "Hi." he nodded to her, friendly. "I'm Jesus.".

Just then a half-naked Rick stumbled into the hallway, a sheet around his waist the only thing covering him. He looked ruffled and alarmed, as though he'd jut been woken up.

"Carl..."

Michonne stumbled out a moment later, a sheet draped around her body like a dress. She, too, was looking alarmed.

Rick's eyes widened when he noticed Jamie in the hallway, and he stepped back, looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

There was no way he could be more uncomfortable or confused than she felt at the moment.

Just then Daryl, Abraham and Glenn were on the stairs, rifles raised. They'd heard the gunfire.

Michonne put up a hand to placate everyone, the other hand still clutching the sheet over her breast.

"It's... it's okay."

"He said we should talk." Rick supplied. "So let's talk."

She and Carl sat in the flickering candle light, ears pressed to the vent, listening to the conversation go on in the kitchen below them. They'd long since been given the order to go to sleep as the adults anxiously conversed downstairs, but it'd only resolved them more to listen.

"We have a settlement not far from here. A farming community, really. We could trade- guns for food. We ran out of ammo a long time ago, and what guns we do have are in pretty rough shape..."

"How far is it from here?" Rick sounded interested.

"Fifteen miles or so. Not far. But, judging by the rigs you folks have set up here... We could do an even better trade. Food for protection."

"Protection from who?" Daryl grunted, skeptical.

"A group of terrorists. They call themselves the Saviors."

Long after the negotiations had moved outside, they sat in the glow of the candles, looking at each other.

"do you think they'll do it?" Jamie asked, not looking up from where she sat on the floor.

Carl nodded. "We're low on food. If it's doable, he'll agree to it."

Jamie sighed. "Meaning my Dad will go. And I'll get left behind again." She sighed, punching the wall in frustration before falling back to the carpet, staring up at the ceiling.

"My dad probably won't let me go either. but, if these people are as bad as Jesus says they are... do we really want to?"

Jamie shrugged. "We've never backed down from a fight before."

"We don't even know what we're fighting, yet. We haven't even seen Jesus's place yet..."

Jamie smirked slightly, tasting the irony of the statement.

Carl sighed. "What are you thinking about?"

Jamie shook her head. "You won't get it. You'll think it's dumb."

Carl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "you're right. It probably is dumb. But I wanna hear it."

Jamie snickered slightly. "Fine. after all these years wandering this shit-hole of a world, we finally found Jesus."

Carl cringed. "Are you saying we need Jesus in our lives?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying- but maybe we didn't find Jesus- maybe Jesus found us."

Jamie rolled her eyes. "Maybe... we could get to know Jesus, too."

Carl smirked, glancing over at his alarm clock. The blinking red numbers read 1:13 in the morning. They were running on fumes, laughing at terrible puns about a man they'd nearly executed in their hallway.

Carl sighed. "You know something?"

"What?"

"I think Jesus loves us."

Jamie giggled. "Totally. I mean, we only held him at gunpoint and all."

"No, Jamie. Jesus loves us. Get it?"

Jamie laughed. "Yeah, I get it."

Carl pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "We need to go the fuck to sleep."

"I just wanted a fucking drink of water." Jamie grunted, before she was standing, stumbling towards the doorway, mouth still dry and breath as bad as when she'd jsut woken up.

"goodnight, Grimes."

"Goodnight, Jamie."

He blew the candle out and crawled into bed, left alone in the darkness.