New chapter! I posted this one a bit earlier than I planned since I finished editing a lot faster, but the next update may not be until the end of the month. Thanks so much for your favorites/reviews! It means so much to me!

I don't own TWD or anything familiar except Ashley.

Enjoy:)

Today was not Carl's day.

The second he flung open the door and put down the Walker, he could not believe his luck.

Of course, there would be a herd passing through right when he used his gun. It wasn't just all on him, though; the stupid girl just had to go screaming this morning.

"Shit," he swore, eyes widening as the mass of undead began hobbling toward them. He slammed the door shut again, locked it, and pressed his back up against it.

"We have to get out of here," Ashley said quickly. She hurried to the living room to pack our things. "That door won't hold all of them."

Carl knew she was right, no matter how much he wished she wasn't. If they escaped out the back door, they could sneak over a fence or something to a safer area. Hopefully his dad and Michonne would find them. There was no more time to think about it, they had to move now.

"Let's go!" Ashley called from somewhere in the back of the house. Carl ran back and joined her. Her long dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail, out of the way as she grabbed her bag and opened the door.

The yard was fortunately empty of Walkers. Overgrown weeds sprung from the ground, reaching up to Carl's knees and they leapt off the porch steps. He suddenly ran into Ashley's back.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, scowling at the back of her head.

She glanced around in a panicked manner, her ponytail whipping around and nearly hitting him in the face.

"There's no way out."

His head jerked around, surveying the yard. The small fenced in area was inescapable. The chain link fence rose high, topped off with trees they would not be able to climb. No gate. No way out.

"Dammit!" he groaned. They could hear the loud groans and stomps of the Walkers in the front yard; eager to tear into the flesh of the humans they spotted.

Carl had no idea what to do. There was no way out, no way for him to get to his dad and Michonne. His chest filled with panic and frustration.

"Come on," Ashley suddenly ordered. He looked at her incredulously.

"Where?" he waved his arms around, expressing their obvious predicament. "We're kinda stuck, if you haven't noticed."

"We can take them."

Her confidence shocked him to no end. She was either the bravest or most stupid person he had ever met.

"What?"

"Let's go!"

Before he knew it, she was back in the house, multiple knives in hand.

Carl swore loudly, rushing to keep up with her. This was crazy. They couldn't take down a whole herd by themselves!

He found her by the front door, putting her bag down and stretching out her muscles. The look in her eyes kind of frightened him a little.

"Look, there's gotta be, what, thirty of them out there? How are we supposed to get them all?" he asked quickly. God, he just wanted Michonne and her badass sword on their side right about now.

"Don't think about it," Ashley shrugged. She suddenly reached into her bag, pulling out two knives and held them out to him. "Here, use these. Don't fire the gun unless you need to."

He took a deep breath, glancing at the shaking door beside them. Shadows of Walkers moved behind the curtains as they scraped and banged on the weakening door. Just a three-inch slab of wood separating them from possible death.

He met her eyes again, seeing them stare into his deeply and determinedly. Carl realized they were silver, like streams of melting snow. They were sharp and unwavering as he reached out and grasped the knives.

Here goes nothing.

She opened the door.

All thoughts left him as soon as his knife plunged into the skull of the first Walker. The only thing on his mind was: kill, don't get bit…

Once the first one was down, three more replaced it. They reached for him, jaws snapping hungrily with rotting flesh hanging off their hollowed cheeks. He felt a sick sort of satisfaction as he kicked one in the stomach and sent it flying back down the steps, knocking down a few of them.

"Get on the street!" Ashley shouted from somewhere on the yard. She was smart to get off the confined space on the porch.

His gripped the knife with a clenched fist, jabbing it up into a Walker's brain with a sickening squelch. He pulled it out, hopping over its fallen corpse and through the throngs of hungry Walkers.

Carl felt his mouth run dry at the sheer magnitude of them. He had never been surrounded by so many.

Left, right, behind, they came at him. He let anger fuel him, anger at the thought of never seeing Judith again, how much he had lost because of these disgusting creatures. Blood seemed to soak him to the bone as they spurted from yet another Walker's head. Bodies piled, yet more and more were coming fast.

His hat felt off at some point, and he felt the bony, decaying hands reaching for him.

'It's endless,' he thought disbelievingly. His muscles grew tired after a few minutes, and sweat dripped down his temples. The putrid stench seemed to suffocate him.

At one point, after stabbing a Walker through the head, he misjudged his aim. The blade pierced its nose, going all the way through to the back of its head, but he missed its brain.

"Crap," he muttered through clenched teeth. He was doing so well...

The impaled Walker continued to grunt and reach for him with outstretched arms, stuck from going any further because Carl was holding the knife. It was caught.

He kicked another approaching one frantically when it got too close, knocking it to the cement. Panic set in. He couldn't get the knife out.

"Come on," he breathed, tugging hard on the handle. All it did was yank the Walker ever closer, and it got a hold of his shirt.

It grabbed him with bruising force, no doubt leaving a mark. He pulled harder.

Suddenly, he didn't have to pull any more. The Walker went down, a perfectly placed knife lodged into the side of its head.

Carl glanced up quickly, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and eyes. Ashley stood about twenty feet away, dealing with her own few Walkers after saving his ass for a second time in 24 hours.

He pulled the two knives sticking from the Walker's bloody skull and killed the final three ones surrounding him. He collapsed, dropping to the bloodstained cement in fatigue, trying to catch his breath.

Ashley finished them off easily since the mass of them had lessened greatly. He watched on tiredly.

The knife left her fingertips and lodged into the Walker's head, making it drop to the cement with a thump. The others swarmed her, and Carl would have tried to help if his muscles didn't feel like jelly. She pulled through, using skills undoubtedly learned before this whole apocalypse. You didn't learn freaking ninja moves like that after dealing with a few Walkers. Carl could see how adept she was when it came to close combat.

Seconds later, and it was finished.

Ashley bent over, hands on her knees while she gasped for breath. Blood covered her, soaking her as much as Carl.

He couldn't believe what they had just done. The two of them, just two teenagers, managed to kill over thirty Walkers single-handedly. Even Daryl would be impressed.

Running footsteps approached and Carl picked his head up.

Rick and Michonne entered the scene; full bags in hand and eyes bulging. Rick's eyes flicked between Carl, Ashley, and the piles of bodies littering the street.

"We heard the first gunshot about a mile away and tried to get back," Rick explained. Worry, and what seemed to look like pride, danced across his eyes. "Ran into a couple Walkers on the way. Did you two…do this on your own?"

"Yeah," Carl breathed, finally getting to his feet. His shoulder ached where one of them grabbed him, but otherwise, he felt okay.

"You guys make quite a team," Michonne stated with an impressed tone. She surveyed the street. "Not bad."

Ashley approached him with his hat in hand. Her green tank top was caked with blood and guts, matting down her hair and drying into her skin. Carl had no doubt he looked just as horrific.

"Here, cowboy," she said wryly. Carl peered at her through narrowed eyes. A small smile spread over her lips, and something akin to annoyance seeped into him. Just because they took on a herd together, definitely didn't mean they were buddies now. After all, it was her fault they were there in the first place.

"It's a sheriff's hat," he spat, taking the hat back and striding to his dad.

He fought the urge to glance back.

"Should we stay here?" Carl approached his dad and Michonne, eager to find a place to rest. He longed for an icepack and maybe some of that pudding he found a while back. Ooh, that'd be nice.

"I think it's best to move at least a few blocks away," Rick decided. A few splatters of blood decorated his white shirt, and Carl could see how utterly exhausted he was. His dad was still weak, no matter how many times he claimed he completely healed.

"I agree," Michonne nodded, twirling her sheathed sword around. It reminded Carl of Ashley's throwing knives. "We have food already, so let's find a place."

"I'll let her know." And with that, Rick shouldered past Carl to inform Ashley of their plans. He didn't turn his head to look at her.

When he met Michonne's gaze, they were already watching him in a weird, knowing way. Her deep and dark eyes were softened with mirth.

"What?" Carl asked semi-harshly.

"Nothing," she shrugged innocently. A hint of a teasing smile played at her lips, increasing his frustration. Michonne's eyes flicked over his shoulder, immediately hardening again. "We've got company."

Carl looked over, seeing the four…five Walkers hobbling their way down the street.

"Let's move," Rick ordered swiftly. They picked up their bags and half-jogged in the direction of the next street.

"Look what I found."

The proud, excited voice coming from Michonne shook Ashley from her daze, making her eyes flick up to the entrance of the surprisingly clean kitchen. Ashley almost wanted to laugh at the sight of the battle-hardened badass warrior princess looking positively giddy as she held up a long box. It was a board game.

"Monopoly?" Carl chuckled. "Did you find a GTA, by any chance?"

"I'll pretend I know what that is, but no. Only Monoploy," she teased. "Ready to lose?"

"Bring it on."

Ashley was almost overwhelmed by how different they looked in that moment. They had found this house several streets away from the previous one, where dozens of corpses scattered along the street. This house felt much more secure, and Rick, after the insistence on Michonne's part, was already passed out on a bed upstairs.

Of course, Carl and Ashley insisted on making sure the backyard was escapable first.

Ashley sat on the worn tiled floor, the cold seeping through her bloodstained jeans. She leaned back against the archway leading to the living room, her legs tucked beneath her and she watched the two interrelate with interest.

Something she hadn't seen in them was surfacing, something happy and relaxed. Michonne's shoulders weren't as tense, and most of all, her hard exterior cracked to reveal a large grin and laughing eyes.

Carl, however, was who baffled Ashley the most. She hadn't ever seen him smile before, or better yet, even look anything other than annoyed and frustrated. He looked like a normal kid, she noticed, who slouched at the dinner table and had a quick wit. The way his face softened indefinitely with the smile taking over his features. The blue in his eyes looked nothing like the icy way he glared at her, but more of a soft periwinkle, crinkling in the corners with mirth.

Ashley realized with a jolt how attractive Carl was when he smiled.

Michonne turned her gaze on Ashley all of a sudden; startling her slightly and interrupting her locked gaze on Carl. She felt the tips of her ears burn red, but quickly covered it with her hair.

"You wanna play?" she offered lightly.

And at that moment, Ashley saw from the corner of her eye the way the soft periwinkle hardened to iciness.

"No thanks," she smiled softly. She rose to her feet, feeling the gross sensation of dried blood sticking to her skin through her clothes. "You guys play. I'll look for some clothes upstairs."

She didn't wait another moment as she turned toward the stairs.

Her fingertips grazed the walls as she strolled through the carpeted hall. It was dusty, but no sign of Zacks were apparent.

Framed photos decorated the walls, holding the last evidence of a long forgotten family who were either alive, dead, or Zacks. Ashley knew it was dangerous to sympathize. You couldn't let yourself connect with others who might vey well be dead; it was basically the golden rule in this world.

Because God forbid she came across someone she knew or missed and had no choice but to kill them. It made it harder if you sympathized.

And Ashley learned that the hard way.

"Looks like you're back in jail," Michonne teased once again. Carl groaned and brought his top hat piece to its imprisonment. Michonne was winning by a landslide, much to his discontent.

"Hey, I haven't played this since I was…what? Twelve?" he defended, but felt the humor rise up in a smile. He missed hanging out with Michonne.

"I haven't played in years either, mister," she shot back sardonically.

"But you've had a lot more time to practice!"

"You calling me old?"

"Duh."

They erupted into laughter, and Carl felt lighter than he had in days. In moments like these, he could pretend they were all back at the prison, safe and together.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they played the game. Carl scratched his forehead, feeling the flakes of dried blood, and he cringed. Geez, he really needed to find some new clothes soon.

"You should give her a chance, you know."

His gaze darted up to meet Michonne's. They were locked on him unwaveringly.

He remained silent, letting his eyes fall onto the wooden table. She continued speaking.

"She's proved herself trustworthy, in my opinion. I don't think you could've gotten out of that house on your own, no offense."

"But she's the one who drew them in the first place!" Carl debated.

"I'm sure she feels bad about it," Michonne's voice was cool and soothing. "You should at least get to know her if you don't trust her so much. We all should."

Carl frowned. "It's not that I don't trust her, exactly…"

Michonne looked interested he what he had to say, but he should his head.

"Nevermind. I don't know…"

Silence fell over them yet again.

Carl thought deeply. He didn't trust Ashley initially, just like he rarely trusted anyone nowadays, but Michonne had a point. When they ran into that herd, she could have bolted and left him for dead. No, she stayed by his side and fought. She didn't have his full trust, but she did earn his respect.

"Hi."

They glanced up to see the person of his thoughts standing in the doorway. She looked sheepish.

"You mind if I sit with you guys?"

"Sure," Michonne nodded, sharing a look with Carl.

Ashley pulled up an old wooden chair and plopped down, crossing her arms over her new shirt. Her grimy green tank top was replaced with a clean looking gray one.

"I found some new clothes you could wear," she informed Michonne quietly. She glanced at Carl. "A boy used to live here, too. You could use one of his clothes, too."

"Thanks," he muttered. She was trying, he suddenly noticed. She was trying hard to be on their side and get along. He felt a little bad for being so harsh earlier.

"You want to play?" Michonne repeated her previous question, but Ashley shook her head.

"No, thanks, ma'am."

"Ooh, ma'am," she smirked. "No one's been that proper to me since-"

"The world ended?" Carl supplied.

"Basically."

He could see the hints of a smile gracing Ashley's features at their dialogue.

"I miss that politeness, honestly," Michonne continued absently, playing with her fake Monopoly money. "Chivalry is long gone."

"I miss having candy," Carl sighed. He had always had a bit of a sweet tooth. "Dad used to sneak me a chocolate bar before dinner before Mom noticed."

Michonne glanced at Ashley expectantly. She chuckled.

"I miss my kedama."

Carl jerked his head toward her, eyes bright.

"You had a kedama?"

"Am I supposd to know what that is?" Michonne asked with a grin.

"It's a Japanese toy I was obsessed with when I was younger," Carl answered. He remembered all those times he played with the little toy after school, and his mom would scold him to no end.

"I loved it," Ashley continued on wistfully. "I wasn't that much of a girly girl, even before this whole thing started. I loved video games and comic books."

"So does this boy here," Michonne motioned toward him. He stared at Ashley for a moment, feeling like he was seeing her for the first time. It was still her fault for the herd coming, but maybe, just maybe, their group could use someone like her. It's been a while since Carl had talked to someone his age, after all...

'Hm, I wonder if she played Minecraft, too...'

Yay they're starting to get along-ish! :) I really hope you guys liked this chapter, it was a bit longer than the others too.

I got a DM asking how old Ashley is in this story, and I decided to make her about sixteen. I know Carl is supposed to be 14 in this season, but I'm making his birthday pass a little recently, so now he's officially 15! Hey, they don't really keep track of dates during the apocalypse, so you never know:)

Thanks for reading and pleaseeee review!