Hey guys! Finally got this chapter up, and I apologize for taking longer than normal, but I hope you still like it:)

"What?" Ashley demanded, feeling like she'd drop the gun in her hands. "No you're not."

She scowled at the ridiculous grin spreading over Carl's lips. He looked confident, with flannel covered arms crossed over his chest. His blue eyes shone at her under that hat.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere alone," he shook his head defiantly. "Nope."

Ashley sighed, feeling defeat seep into her muscles. There was no use arguing. She knew he'd find an excuse to tag along anyway. "Fine, cowboy. Let's go."

They fell into step, striding down the debris-covered road as the first streams of sunlight trickled through. Carl glared playfully at her. "Not a cowboy hat."

"Looks like it to me," she shot back. This conversation felt like how it used to be before she saw her brother, all light-hearted and partially carefree. Ashley was grateful for Carl trying to ease the tension in her. God-knows she needed it.

Side-by-side, they walked toward the stream.

Numerous times, Carl attempted to urge a smile out of her. A laugh, a tease, anything to take her mind off where it would inevitably go if he weren't present. Ashley knew she'd go crazy with dread and guilt if she had gone alone.

Still, despite his efforts, she felt the anxiety crawl up her chest.

She knew she had to kill him. Dylan. God, even the thought of his name made Ashley want to curl up and cry. All this time she thought he was dead, and for three weeks, it had been her assumption. Nothing seemed worse. Until now.

Ashley and Carl trekked across the grassy field he dragged her out of the previous day. Her fingertips drifted over the tips of the long strands, remembering how peaceful everything seemed less than 24 hours ago. The smell of dewy grass and honeysuckle drifted through the air…along with rotting flesh.

Carl handled the approaching lone Zack effortlessly, unsheathing his knife and plunging it into its skull. He grunted at the force, but tugged the blade out and didn't look back as it fell limp to the soft ground.

Ashley sniffed and continued walking.

They paused at the river's edge, staring across.

Did they know for sure that Dylan didn't get across the river? Ashley wracked her brain for the memory. She saw him step ankle deep into the running water, but did he turn back after they escaped?

Carl seemed to read her mind. "I didn't see him get across. He's still over there, I think." He thinks.

"Worth a shot," she shrugged, preparing to step into the stream. She had to stay strong. She couldn't keep crying.

I don't think there are any tears left.

She stepped forward, the iciness of the river shocking her for a quick second. What seemed like an energizing, refreshing river now seemed cold and unwelcoming. It was the only obstacle between her and her brother.

No, he's not my brother. Not anymore.

Before she could keep going, a hand clasped her elbow. Carl stared at her in what seemed to be worry.

"Wait," he muttered. "Are you sure you wanna do this? Ash, you completely froze up yesterday when…you saw him. I don't want you in danger like that if you see him again."

"I'll be okay," she insisted. "I have to be. Please, just trust me."

His gaze was unwavering for a moment, before he uneasily nodded and released her arm. They reached chest deep before simply swimming the rest of the way.

Ashley ignored the frigid water that seemed to seep all the way to her bones. Her teeth chattered, urging her muscles to propel her forward and out of the water. Her mind still raced, thinking of all the possibilities and what to expect.

Luckily, Carl's steady presence beside her calmed her down, reminding her of her task. She'd deal with her problem when she confronted it. Him.

"You okay?" Carl checked once they climbed out of the stream. No Zacks were in sight, thank God, but both were on high alert.

Ashley was dripping wet, chilled to the bone, but swiftly nodded anyway.

On they went.

As time passed, and the darkness of the forest became lesser, Ashley felt the discouragement grow. There was nothing around them; just the occasional chirp of birds, or the scuffle of a squirrel.

"Walker," Carl hissed, pulling Ashley next to him behind a tree. She peered around it, watching the female Zack stumble over the twigs and leaves with her jaw snapping. It seemed to hobble in their direction, probably able to smell them from that distance.

She wanted to just take her knife and throw it, but Carl still had a protective arm around her back.

As the groans grew stronger, Carl's grip on his blade tightened. She sighed impatiently, but before she could whisper something to Carl about dealing with the Zack herself, there was a harsh grip on her shoulder.

Panic burst in her chest and mental alarms rang in her head as she whipped around. The smell hit her hard, a putrid stench, as the Zack snapped its bloody jaw at her neck.

Crap.

She shoved it backward, a natural reflex, one that thankfully saved her life. It gave her a few seconds to gain her bearings. Carl noticed the Zack the same moment she had, but unfortunately, was also the same time the other one caught sight of them.

Man, they really had to step up their game. More and more Zacks seemed to be sneaking up on them.

Carl dealt with the female Zack, while Ashley faced the one on the ground. It grasped for her boot, bloody fingernails latching onto the leather material tightly. Slightly off-balance, she stumbled onto her back with a surprised 'oof', the most vulnerable position she could be in.

Get up, get up…

She grunted, glaring down at the milky white eyes of the Zack that snarled at her. With a sharp inhale; she kicked her other foot down as hard as she could, snapping back the Zack's head with an audible crack. The feeling gave her chills, but her mind was blank, filled with the sole purpose of killing her attacker. It growled as a response, broken neck or not, and tried to grab for her again.

Swiftly, she jumped to her feet, her knife at the ready, and plunged it down into the Zack's head.

Carl.

She whipped around, seeing the boy climb off the fallen Zack and retrieve his knife from its brain.

They were okay. He looked at her, his blue eyes shining with worry, which softened at the sight of her with her bloody knife. They shared a relieved smile, which felt more like a grimace to Ashley.

"Come on," she said, wiping the dark blood from her knife on her pants.

They took a few steps forward, really, just a couple yards, when she heard it.

Twigs snapped, birds flew away. Something tugged at her gut that warned her of something approaching.

"Wait," she placed a cautionary palm on Carl's chest, ceasing their movements. Thankfully, he knew enough to stay silent.

Simultaneously, they heard it. More grunts and echoing groans.

Three Zacks emerged at the same time, stumbling around a few trees in the distance. The morning light barely trickled through the thick tops of the trees, scarcely illuminating them in a soft blue light.

"I got em," Ashley spoke, eyes narrowed in determination. She tossed up her knives, gripping two handles in one hand. "Watch this."

In a move she rarely practiced but wanted to test out, Ashley wound back her arm, eyeing the slowly moving Zacks. They were about a hundred feet away, and with their distance and speed, she estimated the strength of her throw should be…

She took a breath and whipped her wrist forward with adept precision. The two knives in her hand sliced through the air, spinning forward a few inches apart before sinking into two of the Zack's foreheads. They fell to the forest floor without another sound.

"Whoa," Carl breathed. "You gotta teach me that."

Ashley swelled with pride and nodded at the last remaining Zack. It had travelled closer, about fifty feet away. He didn't need further instruction.

With a deep breath, Ashley watched Carl as he wound back his arm just the way she taught him, throwing it forward. His movements were not as seamless and practiced as hers, bordering on awkward, but his efforts proved accurate when his knife plunged into the Zack's growling face. It crumpled sideways with a thump.

They had no time to celebrate. As she turned to smile brightly at Carl, she caught sight of two more Zacks arriving at the scene.

They both tensed with readiness, watching the Zacks like a hawk as they came closer. Her damp clothes stuck uncomfortably to her body as she moved, but was easily ignored. Behind Ashley, she sensed more treading across the forest floor.

Her heartbeat intensified, and she stood shoulder-to-shoulder in opposite directions with Carl, ready to face on the several Zacks. If anyone was there to fight with her, she was glad it was him.

Another knife was gripped in her palm, and she hastily took note of its weight and handle for her inevitable throw. As soon as her eyes zeroed in on the closest Zack, she felt Carl suddenly tense.

"What?" she demanded.

"Ashley," he breathed. "It's Dylan."

He didn't need to look to know Ashley had whipped around. Her breath had hitched, and her hair flung around from the swiftness of her turn. Carl's gaze was fixed on the Walker approaching in the rear; the same one that caused Ashley to freeze up the day before.

It looked the exact same as yesterday. Dark matted hair, a dirty fading red shirt. To Carl, it looked just like any other Walker, but to Ashley, he knew, she was seeing her brother.

He had to remind her that it wasn't.

"Ash," he hissed. "It's not-"

"I know," she shot back harshly. He risked a glance at her, seeing her stern expression twist up in obvious pain. "I know it's not."

They were surrounded. This group of Walkers was not nearly as abundant as the one on the street that day. They could handle them easily, but with Ashley's undead brother being one of them, Carl had no idea how focused she would be.

"Six o'clock!" he shouted as the first Walker made a grab at him. He shot a bullet into its head, not watching as it collapsed onto the leafy ground. Ashley barely looked as she hurled her blade to her side, piercing a limping Walker right between its eyes.

Carl would never get used to his amazement when he watched her do that.

The next round of Walkers slowly approached, broken fingernails raised to sink into their flesh. At a quick glance, Carl noticed Dylan get closer and closer.

He stood in front of Ashley, cupping her cheek in his grimy and bloodied hand. Her frantic eyes eventually met his; pupils dilated so much in concentration that the silver rings nearly swallowed it up.

"You got this okay?" he murmured. "Be strong."

She nodded anxiously.

With a final deep breath, they jumped into action.

Swipe left. Jab right. Avoid snapping teeth. Carl felt his mind fall blank, the only thought being to kill the undead, and to make sure Ashley was okay. After pulling his knife from a deceased Walker, he glanced over his shoulder at his companion.

She kicked a Walker in the chest before it got too close, making it stumble backwards. Following that, her wrist flicked forward, knife slicing cleanly through the air to land right in its brain. That's my girl.

There were only a handful of them left, Dylan being one of them. Both Carl and Ashley were subconsciously avoiding him.

A Walker came at him from his blind side, causing Carl to gasp as its rotted fingers dug into his shoulder, no doubt leaving bruises. They fell to the earth in a flurry of leaves, his knife falling from his grasp.

Carl grunted with strain, twisting on his back as the Walker tried to bury its teeth into his leg. He glanced around desperately for his blade.

There. It glinted in the early morning sunlight, just a few feet away. Carl kicked at the decayed head of the Walker, frantically crawling to grasp his weapon.

Adrenaline surged through his veins. Come on, come on.

He reached to grab it, feeling the rough, wooden material in his sweaty palm, along with the various leaves accidentally clutched with it, and sliced it straight into his attackers skull. It fell on top of him, limp and bloody.

He barely had time to sigh in relief, for his victory was short lived.

A high-pitched yelp resonated through the thick woodland air, alerting Carl's attention as his blood ran cold.

Ashley was on her back, weaponless and trapped as a Walker thrashed above her. Its jaw snapped hungrily at her neck, sheer strength being the only thing keeping her alive.

"Ash!" Carl called out in panic. He struggled to shove the limp Walker off of him, praying he wasn't too late to go and help her.

As soon as he got free, a deafening shot rang out.

Ashley's assailant collapsed above her with a bullet hole in its head.

She gaped at Carl, confusion and bewilderment a clear emotion on her dirty face. He didn't have his gun in his hand, so he looked around in perplexity.

Another Walker stumbled toward Carl, an arm hanging bloodily by a thread as it garbled disgruntled sounds at him. He quickly grabbed his knife, but there was no need.

The Walker's head was chopped cleanly off, rolling to the ground with a thump the same time its body collapsed.

Carl blinked, glancing up in surprise to see a familiar woman shaking off the blood from her katana.

Michonne and Rick had arrived.

"Out of all-" a gunshot to a Walker's head, "the stupid things-" a grunt as he kicked another backward, "you've done-"

Carl's dad turned to glare disapprovingly at him once the area around him was temporarily cleared. Carl scrambled to his feet, ignoring his father and immediately seeking out Ashley.

She shoved the limp Walker off of her, climbing unsteadily to her feet, and Carl felt the painful weight on his chest lift in relief.

"How did you find us?" he asked breathlessly, watching Michonne hack off another Walker's head. She turned to him, a dark brow lifting up in knowingness.

"It was pretty easy to figure out where you two went," she explained easily. The number of Walkers surrounding them dwindled down immensely, now only sparsely scattered around the forest.

"If you pull another stunt like that again-" Rick warned, his blue eyes that matched Carl's flashing in the growing light.

A burst of red at the corner of his eye made Carl turn, immediately feeling panic flare.

"Wait-!" the shout crawling up his dry throat was drowned out by Ashley's.

"No!" she shrieked, scrambling forward to stop Michonne from slicing her blood-soaked sword across a very familiar person.

Walker.

Michonne paused, momentarily flummoxed at their two cries. Dark brown eyes narrowed in confusion, stepping back to give a wider distance between her and the growling Walker.

Carl panicked, knowing very well how bad it would be if Michonne ended up being the one to finish Dylan. It had been their mission, of course, but the final blow belonged to Ashley, and Ashley alone.

A tense silence followed, lasting just a few seconds while the four of them stared with wide eyes. Dylan continued to groan lifelessly, gray-tinted hands twitching in their direction.

His dad grunted, shattering the apprehensive aura around them as one of the few Walkers left in the lightening forest reached out for his shoulder. Rick struggled for a moment, until his pistol shot with a deafening boom into its rotting head.

He jerked his head toward Dylan after shoving the fallen Walker off him, icy eyes stern. "Do whatever you need to do," he barked. His expression then softened the slightest bit as he caught sight of Ashley's face. "And do it fast."

Carl didn't need to think twice before striding toward Ashley, standing directly in front of her to meet her watery eyes.

She was trembling, he noticed. Her shoulder shook subtly with silent tears, but her sharp features tightened, looking over his shoulder at her brother.

"Ashley," Carl murmured determinedly. They had about seven seconds before Dylan would reach them. "You can do it."

She blinked, lower lip chewed between her teeth. He could practically feel her thundering heartbeat from where he stood, beating unsteadily.

He grabbed her hands, feeling her slender fingers and callouses, and willed his strength to her. With a final, meaningful glance into her shining silver eyes, he placed his retrieved gun into her palm, and stepped away.

He watched the scene unfold before him, this weird, clenching in his chest as he allowed her to be face-to-face with a Walker. The action went against his instinct, and all he longed to do was lunge forward and keep her from harm's way.

Dylan focused his opaque orbs on Ashley, decaying lips twitching at her smell.

Ten feet.

He saw something in her eyes. Something changed. Initially, they were terror-stricken, flooding with pain and guilt for what she was about to do. He could understand her agony. Hell, he'd gone through the same exact thing, with many, many people he cared about.

But Carl still had others. He had his father, he had Michonne, who had somehow become the mother in his life. He had been surrounded by friends at the prison.

But Ashley… Ashley was now facing the only person left of her old life. He could tell all she wanted to do was go hug her brother, when all he wanted to do was tear into her flesh.

Come on, Carl could only chant, panic swelling in his stomach. He observed with awe as Ashley's quivering frame stilled, straightening up with sudden resolve and purpose.

She shut her eyes, inhaling a deep, lungful of air.

Her gun was still at her side. Five feet.

Carl could barely recall the feeling he had that she wasn't going to go through with it. He nearly burst with terror, imagining that she wouldn't lift that gun, that he wouldn't get to her fast enough…that she'd be overtaken by the one she used to love most.

But no. Ashley opened her silver orbs, filled with ferocity that even he could detect from his distance, and swiftly lifted her gun.

Dylan went down soundlessly.

The forest was too quiet.

Carl breathed deeply, steady eyes on the girl standing a few feet away, not knowing what to do to help her.

He was barely aware of his dad and Michonne's silent presence behind him, his attention solely focused on Ashley. Strong, broken, incredible Ashley.

Dylan's body lay motionless at her feet.

Carl hated this feeling coursing through him; helplessness. Was she like him? Would she force her grief down and face the world with steely eyes? Would she crumple down and hug her brother to her chest in misery?

She did neither.

With shaky movements, Ashley turned around, eyes instantly searching for him. Those pretty gray eyes were shining with tears, but she bit her lip, and strode forward.

He met her halfway, and she collapsed into his arms with a quiet sob.

It made him feel destitute and helpless, feeling Ashley's silent, restrained quivers coursing throughout her lithe frame. It was wrong to see her like this. She was so strong and sturdy, now reduced to a shaking mess in his arms.

But he was proud. He understood perfectly how hard it would be for her to face her brother; he'd gone through the exact same thing. Back then, he didn't necessarily feel like anyone was supporting him when he pulled that trigger. Maggie didn't exactly count.

He was there for Ashley, and vowed to always be.

He gently held her as she sucked in calming, labored breaths. A study hand landed on his shoulder, and he glanced up at his father.

Rick frowned, the aged lines on his grimy cheeks creasing in despondency. "We need to go. More Walkers are coming."

Carl shut his eyes, sighing. "Ash, we hav-"

"I heard," she nodded stiffly against the side of his neck. She stood up off of her now dirty knees, leaves crunching beneath her boots. He wished they were back at the house, safe and secure, so that he could make sure Ashley was okay. Here in the still dark forest, she wouldn't meet his searching gaze.

"Let's go," Michonne murmured. She walked back toward the entrance of the forest with purposeful steps, pausing just for a moment to lay a sad hand on Ashley's shoulder.

Carl glanced at her, his bottom lip chewed between his teeth as he took in her stony expression.

"Ashley, I-"

"Let's go," she bit, determinedly not looking at a certain prone Walker behind her while she followed Michonne and his dad.

She was shutting him out, Carl recognized. He'd seen countless reactions just like that after dealing with a loss. It wasn't uncommon for survivors in the world to hold off their emotions for the sake of staying strong, but Ashley had people now. She had him.

And that hug after she shot Dylan? It was clear her first reaction was to seek Carl in a time of distress. The realization made him feel overcome with protectiveness.

He promised himself to talk to her once they returned to the house.

When the four walked past the final tree of the forest, the bright morning opened up in front of them. The sun was rising, a brilliant blueish pink-lemonade color that washed the scenery with light. Birds chirped, dewy grass dampened his ankles, and the sweet smell of honeysuckle tickled his nostrils. It was an imitation of a peaceful morning, the promise of a new day.

In a way, it actually felt like they were having a fresh start. Once they got back home, Carl would…wait-

"Where are we going?" Carl called up to his dad in confusion. The house was in the other direction. Rick and Michonne were leading them all down another side street.

"We woke up to Walkers in the front yard," Michonne explained. "Went to find you two and…well, like we said, we had a pretty good guess on where to find you."

"Food was running low anyway," his dad continued grimly. "We need to find a new place. Somewhere more concrete and permanent."

"Like the prison?" Carl scowled sarcastically," Because that worked out."

Rick whirled around to face him sternly. "Would you rather us wander around scavenging for food? That ain't us, Carl. The prison was good, but we need to find someplace safe again."

Indignant for a reason unknown, Carl sighed and nodded. He glanced to see Ashley's reaction to this decision as they continued walking, but her gaze was set on the ground below her. She didn't look up once.

"Hey," he nudged her shoulder. "Don't do that. Don't shut me out."

"I'm not," she huffed, lifting one shoulder.

He was quiet for a moment, peering at her beneath the brim of his hat. "You're allowed to feel this way, you know. Anger, sadness, regret, whatever the hell it is. I know what you're thinking, but you don't have to do this."

"Do what?"

"Hold it down," he said softly. "I'm here, Ash. Seriously. I know you're upset, but the only way to move on is to accept it. I can help you."

Ashley finally looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, the left side threatening to spill over. He gave her a small, encouraging smile at her progress of at least showing her face.

"I know you're here," she murmured almost inaudibly. "Thank you, Carl."

Michonne and Rick led them to train tracks, found at the edge of the small town. With empty purpose, they decided to follow them.

Carl knew very well they had no clue where they were going. Their temporary safe haven was just that: temporary. He agreed with his dad, they needed something…permanent.

Nevertheless, he was grateful for their determination to find something. If he learned anything of his father in the past few years, it was that he was strong-minded and persevering. No matter how many times Carl believed he'd be better off on his own, he'd always remember his panic when he thought Rick to be dead, the desperation to be with his dad again.

He'd follow him anywhere he deemed safe.

They walked along the tracks, which led further and further from civilization along the dense forest to their right. Thankfully, no Walkers were in sight.

"Carl."

He looked left, Ashley's steady silver gaze trapping him. "When we get to…wherever we're going…I think we should talk."

He wasn't sure exactly what about, but he still knew whatever it was, any kind of talking with her would be good.

"Yeah," he agreed with a promising smile. "Talk."

Rick and Michonne paused a few feet up ahead, their attention focused on a board posted alongside the tracks.

His brows lifted at the words scrawled across the sign.

'Terminus. Sanctuary for all, community for all. Those who arrive survive.'

"Let's go," Rick nodded gruffly, continuing on their path.

It seemed too good to be true, Carl thought to himself. He learned to realize things like this early on, but this was what they needed.

Something permanent.

What else could there be for them? A sanctuary sounded like a pretty damn good place to start looking, but still, the nervousness continued to crawl up his throat.

A hand gripped his, and Carl looked down in slight surprise. Ashley's hand, worn and calloused with her olive complexion, looked small compared to his. She held his palm softly, like by clinging too hard she'd end up breaking him.

Carl smiled ahead, lacing her fingers through his and squeezing tightly.

The path ahead of them seemed to go on for miles, ending with a destination with undefined safety. It didn't guarantee security, well, he figured nowhere really did, but it was their best bet.

He felt the warmth of Ashley's hand, her steady presence beside him. Whatever lay ahead, whether it be good or bad, Carl knew they'd confront it together.

Finding 'something permanent'. He was off to a good start.

The End..?

Okay, so depending on what you guys want, I might decide to end this story here. I figured it would be a good place to stop, since this story all happened within 4x11, but if you reallyy want me to keep going, let me know!

I might have gotten the sign/Rick's words wrong (can't remember everything from the end of the episode) but just ignore it if it is.

Hope you liked this story! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it means so much to me:)