Asha woke up slowly, the white noise and vibration in her head slowly settling in to the hum of tyres on a road. She peeled her eyelids open slowly and looked up into Michonne's dark worried eyes. They were in the back of a windowless van, her head resting on her friend's leg and her hands bound in front of her.

Michonne exhaled heavily, giving her a tight smile.

'How do you feel?' Hershel asked from the other side of the van.

Asha tentatively ran an internal assessment. She was nauseated, her vision was blurry and she had a pounding headache. The back of her head felt disturbingly spongy as she probed it gently with her bound hands and there was dried blood across the back of neck and across her shoulder. She tried to sit up, but quickly decided that was a really bad idea and sank back on Michonne's leg.

'Like shit,' she groaned.

'Starting to think you weren't going to wake up,' Michonne said grimly.

'If this is how it feels to be awake I'm not sure I want to be. How long have I been out?'

'Couple hours.'

'Have we been in this van the whole time?'

'Not exactly,' Hershel said. 'Michonne and I got to speak with the Governor.'

Asha arched her brows at the elderly man.

'He wants to trade us for the prison,' he answered.

Asha hissed through her teeth. 'Shit. Our people aren't in any state to be out on the road, or to fight anyone off. Got any idea how many people he's got?'

Michonne shook her head, eyes flashing with suppressed fury.

'He's kept us hidden,' Hershel said. 'Guess it's easier for his people to threaten to kill us if we don't have human faces.'

There was something else, she could feel it in the suddenly stony silence as Hershel and Michonne shared a quick glance.

'What?' She asked.

'He's got a tank,' Michonne said flatly.

Asha blinked at them a couple of times. 'A tank?'

Michonne nodded.

'Well, shit.'

Michonne snorted. 'Yep.'

'Do we have any sort of plan?'

'Hope Rick makes the trade?' Hershel suggested.

Asha scoffed, then winced as her head pinched with pain. 'Do we really think the Governor is legit about wanting to trade?'

'Maybe he is,' Hershel mused. 'He seemed different.'

'Different enough to make up for Andrea?' Michonne spat. 'Or Merle?'

Hershel sighed heavily. 'If we're not willing to change, to accept the possibility of other people changing, what hope is there?'

Asha looked at elderly man a long moment. From a rational perspective she understood what he was saying. Emotionally, she had trouble applying it to the Governor.

'The problem with change,' she said slowly, 'is people are as likely to become worse as better.'

Hershel nodded. 'People get better, or get worse,' he said tiredly. 'But they do change. And where there's change, there's hope.'

'Not for him,' Michonne growled.

Asha sighed, lifting her bound hands to rub at her temple. 'Maybe he has changed. Maybe even for the better. Not like we can do anything about it from the back of this van anyway.'

There wasn't much to say after that and they continued in silence. Asha's vision slowly cleared as the tyres hummed and eventually her nausea subsided a little too, settling into steady waves instead of a constant presence in her stomach – though she wasn't sure how much was the aftershocks of her head injury and how much was fear at their present predicament.

She wondered if Daryl had missed her yet, and bit down on the inside of her cheek as her eyes started stinging. That wasn't helpful, but even as she thought it, the sharp blue of Daryl's eyes behind his shaggy hair filled her mind, and she closed her eyes to better concentrate on it.

'Don't go back to sleep,' Michonne muttered.

Asha grunted noncommittally, keeping her eyes closed.

Maybe fifteen minutes later the van lurched to a stop. Asha forced her eyes open as voices, tinny sounding through the metal, bounced around the vehicle. She sat up sharply as she heard the Governor bellowing for Rick.

The rear van doors screeched open, dark shapes looming against the bright rectangle of sunlight. First Hershel then Michonne were hauled from the van, and the Governor's voice echoed in the background. 'Is Hershel on your Council? What about Michonne?'

Then rough hands seized Asha, dragging her across the van floor and into the light. Blinded, she fought the nausea churning at the sudden movement as she was dumped unceremoniously on her knees next to Michonne.

'What about the speargun wielding blonde?' the Governor asked. 'Haven't caught her name yet, she's been having a little nap since we met.'

Asha sagged, blinking rapidly in the sharp afternoon sun as she tried to bring the prison into focus.

They were outside the fences, around to the left of the main gate. The tank was off to the right - they have a mother fucking tank - and as she carefully twisted her head, she could see a dozen or so armed men and women around them scattered between four or five vehicles, and could sense more behind them. The Governor stood on the side of the tank, attention fixed on the lone figure just inside the fences.

Rick's face was grey, but his eyes were like iron as he stared down the Governor and his colt python was firmly in hand.

The prison people pressed against the inner fence at the courtyard. Asha's heart raced as she searched the fence line, then lurched as she fixed on the familiar rangy build and shaggy hair. The connection clawed into her chest as Daryl's eyes locked with hers across the distance. His face was pinched and Maggie had a hand wrapped firmly around his arm as she leant in speaking urgently in his ear.

Asha managed a single shaky breath before her field of view was filled by a broad and muscular form and she was yanked to her feet by strong hands. Her vision shook again at the motion before she realised she was facing a broad barrel chest, the wiry blonde hair poking out the top of the man's singlet sending a disturbing shock of recognition through her sluggish brain. Then a hand was under her chin, pulling her eyes upwards.

Asha's eyes flickered across the familiar features of Nash's face, the strong brow and nose, dirty blonde ponytail and scar on his left temple where he'd come off his bike when he was about ten. She took it all in in an instant before looking into his eyes, a green pair matched to her own and equally wide with shock.

Then she jerked backwards, slamming her bound hands out at the apparition.

She could handle hallucinating Merle, but this was too much.

She stumbled as she unexpectedly connected with something real - hissing as the pain in her broken hand told her in no uncertain terms that there was solid flesh in front of her - and the grip on her shoulders tightened to keep her on her feet.

'What the hell Ash,' Nash muttered.

She reeled at the familiar rough twang.

How many nights since she'd lost him had she dreamt that voice, weighed up in her mind the things she'd be willing to trade just to hear it again.

She gaped, stopped breathing and her legs faded away to nothing beneath her.

Her brother's grip tightened, shifted and then his bear hug arms were wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest.

'Fuck Ash, I thought I was never gonna see you again.' She could hear the tremor just behind his voice as it rasped in her ear. 'I looked for you, but ya never left me any damn sign.'

Her anger flared, suddenly trumping any concern she had about whether or not he was real.

How dare he?

She tried to shove him but his grip was like a vice. 'I fucking searched for you,' she hissed. 'I didn't stop until the winter made me, and then I started up again as soon as I could. I've left signs for you over half the state!' She was yelling. 'I fucking followed you to Braysville, to Seth. You died!' She gagged on the words and then tried to shove him again. He was like a wall of rock. 'You fucking died. He killed you, stabbed you in the heart while you slept. He told me so.'

Nash laughed a little harshly. 'Seth. That crazy bastard. Should never have trusted him as far as I did, but I didn't trust him that far.'

He held her at arms length with one hand and pulled the side of his singlet inwards towards his chest, revealing a large puckered scar between the shoulder and breast plate on the left hand side. 'The little fucker thought I was sleeping. Damn stupid that I even had my eyes closed, otherwise he'd never have got near me. Bastard was lucky I only knocked him out after that effort.'

Asha stared at him in bewildered shock, eyes flickering between his face and the scar until he wrapped his arm back around her and puller her back against his chest - his perfectly solid, perfectly real chest.

He smelt like Nash. God knows she'd done his dirty laundry enough over the years to know the way he stunk after a few days without a wash. Somehow, after all this time, he still smelt like salt water.e

It really was him.

She couldn't think, let alone find any words. The strength went out of her as she was flooded with relief - with release from a stress she'd been carrying so long that she'd forgotten it was there.

For a moment Nash's arms tightened around her, but then he was holding her back, running a hand across the dried blood on her shoulder and taking in her bruised face and the blood soaked bandage around her hand. His eyes flattened in an distinctly unfriendly way and his jaw clenched.

The Governor's voice cut in behind him. 'You want to tell me what's going on here Nash?'

Her brother ripped around. 'You wanna tell me why my sister is bloody and beaten and was tied up in the back of a van?' he roared.

'She's one of them,' the Governor said dismissively. 'A thief. A killer.'

'You better watch what you say. You don't even know her.'

'I know the people she's with.'

Nash glanced over his shoulder at Asha.

She gave a tiny shake of her head. 'I'm with good people,' she said emphatically.

'You let my people go right now,' Rick's voice rang out. 'I'll stay down here, talk as long as you want, but you let 'em go right now. You've got a tank. You don't need hostages.'

'I do,' the Governor retorted, turning back to Rick. 'This is just to let you know I'm serious. There's no sense in blowing a hole in our new home. You've got till sundown to get outta here.'

'It doesn't have to go down this way.'

'It does. I've got more people, more fire power. We need this prison. There it is. This isn't about the past, it's about right now.'

Rick scrubbed his hand across his face. 'There are children here. Some of them are sick, they won't survive.'

The Governor laughed. 'I have a tank, and I'm letting you walk away. What is there to talk about? I could shoot you all, you would all shoot back, I know that. But we'd win, and you'd be dead. But it doesn't have to be like that. It's your choice.'

The reality of what was happening slowly sifted through the shock of finding Nash and into Asha's brain. 'What the hell are you doing with Philip?' she hissed urgently in her brother's ear. 'The man is fucking nuts.'

'Philip?' Nash asked from the corner of his mouth, eyes flickering between Rick and the Governor.

'Yeah, that's his name, but he used to like going by 'the Governor' as well.' She pulled urgently on the back of her brother's shirt. 'I'm serious Nash, he's dangerous. He killed and tortured our friends and he massacred his own people after the last raid he led on us failed.'

Her brother turned his head around to look at her properly, eyes narrowed.

'He drove a van full of walkers into the yard and left them to attack us,' Asha said quietly emphasising each word. 'And then he gunned down his own people on the road after they abandoned their raid on us. Please Nash, please trust me. I am right about this.'

Hard eyes searched her face, then her brother gave a sharp nod and turned back to the tank.

'There something you haven't been telling us Brian?' he asked raising his voice and cutting over the Governor's conversation with Rick. 'Or should I call you Philip?'

The Governor's eyes flashed angrily. 'I've kept you alive. I am going to keep you alive. That's all you need to know.'

'You haven't kept me alive,' Nash scoffed. 'Martinez and Pete found me when I was injured, they took me in. They kept me alive.' His voice hardened. 'They kept everyone alive until these last few weeks when you showed up.'

Asha looked around, eyes narrowing as she failed to locate Martinez anywhere in the group. She murmured quietly in her brother's ear. 'Did Martinez die mysteriously after Philip showed up?'

Nash's head jerked in a short nod.

The Governor lifted his pistol and pointed it at Asha. 'You get that bitch back on her knees with the others or I will put a bullet in her head.

Nash stepped in front of her. 'You best stop pointing that at my sister.' His voice was bleak and he hefted the semi automatic rifle in his hands.

Rick's voice rang out from the yard. 'We can all live here together.'

Asha's head snapped around and from the corner of her eye she saw the Governor's do the same.

Was Rick fucking insane?

Rick glanced at the corner guard tower, in flames after the tank's welcome round, and Asha could see what the words were costing him. He ground them out. 'We can all live here together. There's enough room for all of us.'

She shared a panicked glance with Michonne, her friend's eyes were wide and face rigid with shock. We can't. Her heart screamed at her, but she kept her lips clamped together, swallowing her bile, and trusting Rick.

'More than enough room,' the Governor answered calmly. 'But my family wouldn't sleep well knowing you were under the same roof.'

'We'd live in different cell blocks.' The words dragged out of Rick. 'We wouldn't even have to see each other till we were ready.'

'It could work,' Hershel called from his knees. 'You know it could.'

'Once maybe.' The Governor shook his head. 'But not after Woodbury, not after Andrea.'

'I'm not saying it'll be easy,' Rick said. 'Truth be told, it'll be harder than just shooting each other. But I don't think we've got any choice.'

'You don't.'

'We're not leaving,' Rick said. 'Gun shots will only bring more dead. They'll bring the fences down, and without the fences, this place is worthless.' His face hardened visibly. 'We can all live here or none of us can.'

The Governor's lip twitched into a sneer and he leapt down from the tank. Someone out of Asha's view behind a car handed him Michonne's katana – the blade singing as he pulled it free of the sheath and then pressed it against Hershel's neck.

Asha's heart stopped. She pawed frantically at Nash's back. 'Stop him,' she hissed.

'Is this what you want?' Rick appealed desperately to the people outside the fence. 'Is this really what any of you want?'

'We want what you have,' growled a man in a baseball cap standing in the tank hatch. 'Time for you to leave asshole.'

'I've fought him before,' Rick said pointing to the Governor. 'And after, we took in what was left of his people. They became leaders in what we have here. You put down your weapons and come in and you're one of us. No strings, no history.' He gestured around with his handgun, taking in the entire group outside the fences, and the now heavily armed prison group lining the courtyard fence. 'Is this really what you want?'

There was a long pause.

'Not me,' Nash said quietly, his voice carrying in the heavy silence. He hefted the rifle in his hands and Asha's stomach clenched as he tossed it on the ground. 'I'm not fighting my sister's people. She says they're good people.' Nash looked around, appealing to his own people. 'Most of you have known me for months. You trust me.' He met Asha's eyes. 'And I trust her.'

He'd never apologised for leaving her after the thing with the men who took Ren, but she could read it in his eyes now. Her heart swelled, lips trembling as her eyes filled with tears.

Nash turned back to his group, raising his voice. 'Rick here is offering to let us in. We can live together. We'll be stronger together, and no-one needs to bleed to make it happen. Isn't that what we really want? Somewhere safe to make a home? Why the hell would we turn that down?'

'There's no safety with them,' the Governor roared. 'They're killers.'

'And you've never killed anyone?' Nash roared back. 'How many of us can claim that? I can't. What really happened to Martinez, Brian - or Philip, or whatever the hell your name is? What else haven't you been telling us. What happened to Pete?'

Asha could feel it, in the second glances the people outside the fence were shooting at the Governor. The mood of the group was starting to shift away from him. Nash stood empty handed in front of them, palms open and facing upwards as he ignored Philip and spoke directly to his people.

'We don't need him to make this decision for us. We've all got brains. We can all think about this ourselves - and I reckon we should think about what Rick is suggesting. Isn't it worth at least trying before we blow each other to bits?'

He turned back to face the Governor

Asha was so proud of him she could have burst.

Asha looked around her brother's broad back as Nash and the Governor stared at each other. She watched, as the Governor's one eye hardened and his lips twitched.

Too late Asha realised he was holding Michonne's sword one handed and had his gun in the other.

'Traitor,' he snarled, and then his hand was up and a gunshot cracked, the sound thunderously loud and echoing back from the woods around them.

Asha flinched. Warm red chunks splattered across her chest - suddenly too tight to breathe - as her vision contracted to the bloody mess that had been the back of her brother's head. There was silence as his huge form wavered, almost as though he teetered in the breeze, before his knees buckled and he slowly pitched face first into the soil.

And then Asha screamed.

[A/N: Hope you enjoyed this one. Merry Christmas everyone.]