A/N: Hmm... I've been gone a while, huh? Apologies for that, but you know, school and stuff. Here, have this obnoxiously long chapter for being so patient with me. :)

I should also probably point out that this is taking place between Season 1 and 2. I added a couple days to the timeline.

Tales of Woe

Keira jumped behind a tree as one of the strangers fired, the leaves on the ground where she previously stood scattering under the bullet's impact.

"Jesus, lady, hold yer fire!" she heard Roy shout.

"There was a walker!" the woman shot back.

A voice that she recognized as the man with the crossbow spoke up. "You ever seen a walker move that fast?"

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of gravel crunching under someone's feet as they moved closer. "That you, Keira?" Roy asked.

She gave a sharp, pronounced whistle in response, not daring to move until she was sure that she wouldn't be shot at again.

"It's just one o' mine, put yer damn weapons down," he called to the group. "Now get out here, soldier, so's they don't try to shoot ye again."

Keira came out from behind the tree and moved towards the group. They watched carefully as she approached, some of the adults sizing her up, gauging if she was a threat, but ultimately seeming to decide she wasn't. Her eyes glanced over each of them in return before landing on the little boy once more. His mother must have noticed her gaze, as she gently pulled her son closer.

"There ya go, see? That look like a walker to you?"

The boy looked up at his mother. "I thought…"

"Don't worry about it, kid," Roy interjected, "jus' don't let yer fear get the better of yer sight. Or any other part o' ya fer that matter."

"Now," he addressed the whole group, "before I can let ye stay, I'm gonna need to check fer bites."

"I can assure you that none of us are bit," the police officer said calmly.

"An' I believe yer tellin' the truth, officer, but a few weeks ago some folks came here sayin' the same thing. Next thing you know one of 'em turns and I've got four more dead bodies. It's just a precaution, I'm sure ya understand. I'll have Jessica check on yer women, if that makes ya more comfortable."

The officer looked torn before the mother of the boy spoke up. "Rick," she said to him calmly, "it's fine." Keira watched the man almost visibly relax at her words. This must be her husband; the boy's father. The man, Rick, shared a look with his wife, then nodded to Roy in agreement with his terms.

"Well then, let's get 'er done quick so we can all sit down and relax, shall we?" Rick offered. He turned back to Keira. "Go on and get those ready," he said, gesturing to the three dead animals hanging about her. "Introductions can wait, these folks look hungry."

Slowly, reluctantly, Keira pulled away from her spot on the parking lot pavement and went around the back of the motel. She pushed everything onto the picnic table set up out back and got to work skinning the animals as quickly as she could. She wanted to get back inside, she wanted to know about these people. Eleven of them. How did they keep eleven people alive? And two children. She slowed her pace, the knife feeling heavy in her hands. I couldn't even keep one child alive.

She shook herself from her brooding and finished with the rabbit she was skinning, cleaning it out as best as she could and putting the meat in a pot with the rest. She brought it to the kitchen where she ran into Martin.

"Oh hey, you're back. How was the hunt? Catch a lot?" She showed him the pot full of rabbit and raccoon meat in response. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, taking the pot from her. "Can you believe how big that group that came in is? Looks like there's a lot more of us out there than we thought. Think about it: if there are other groups that big around, we might all still have a chance."

I wouldn't go that far. Keira had tried to forget about wishful thinking, and seeing the giddy little smile on Martin's face reminded her of how dangerously foolish it could be.

"Help me bring these out, will ya?" He handed her a pot and a pan, both holding pieces of the now clean meat. He grabbed another pan of meat and, after a moment, a jar of potatoes. "Might as well, huh? I mean, this is a pretty special occasion. Put out a nice spread, have ourselves a feast."

Rabbit and raccoon meat and potatoes; quite the feast indeed.

Keira could hear quiet voices as they approached the motel lobby. Roy and Jessica moved some of the furniture around to make room for everyone while she and Martin placed the pots and pans on the wood-burning stove. Wade had already made himself comfortable on the only recliner.

"Nice place you found here," the curly-haired man said, leaning on the arm of one of the couches.

"Didn't have to find it," Roy replied, "it's mine. Owned the place fer a good long time."

"Well we appreciate you opening your home to us," the police officer said.

Roy nodded. "Food won't be ready fer a bit. Why don't ye introduce yerselves?"

"Rick Grimes," the officer said, shaking Roy's hand. "Sheriff of King County. This is my wife Lori and my son Carl." Keira's eyes fell back on the little boy. How old is he? Ten? No, maybe not ten, but he's not a teenager. Eleven maybe… He saw her watching him and stared back curiously, but Keira was the first to break.

"My depute, Shane," Rick continued, gesturing to the curly-haired man.

"Carol and her daughter Sophia." The short-haired woman holding her little girl close.

"Dale." The older man with the fishing hat, taking in the décor of the room.

"Andrea." The blond woman sitting on the far couch, looking like she might be sick at any moment.

"Glenn." The young Asian man sitting on the floor.

"T-Dog." The Black man sitting next to Andrea, hands clasped in front of him.

"And Daryl." The man with the crossbow, now strapped to his back, leaning against the wall.

"Good to meet ya," Roy said. "Name's Roy. This here's Wade and Martin, the young lady there is Jessica, and you've already met Keira."

"Food's ready," Martin said, serving the meat and potatoes into various mismatched plates and bowls. Keira helped Jessica pass around the dishes to their guests before taking a seat themselves.

"So then, you folks are prolly comin' down from Atlanta, huh?" Roy asked, as everyone dug into their meal.

A solemn look passed over many faces. "Thereabouts, yeah," said Shane. "If you're thinkin' of heading that way, don't bother. City's overrun, outskirts are overrun, CDC's blown to hell." He shot Rick a scowl that did not go unnoticed.

"I'll make a note of it," said Roy. "How'd ya end up at the CDC then? Did ya find any—"

"Know what, how 'bout you answer some questions, man?" Shane barked.

"Shane—"

"No, Rick. I ain't gonna sit here an' tell my life story 'til I know who I'm dealing with."

Roy gave a grim smile. "I give ya food an' shelter, an' that's still not enough for ya, is it? Well hell, I'm nothin' if not generous. You wanna know 'bout us, fine. Like I said, this motel's my place, used to be me an' my wife's place. When the world started endin', folks were all rushin' down Interstate 85, tryin' to find refugee camps and the like. We had a few stop down here to stay a couple nights, like there was no rush er sumthin'. Turns out one of 'em's bit, infects most o' the others, including my Angela. Had to put 'em all down. Me an' Wade were the only survivors. Few days later, Martin shows up from the reserve, picked up Jessica on the way. I'd known Martin before, so naturally I let 'im stay. He helped me dig the graves."

"We're sorry for your loss," Rick said. Roy just offered him a nod of thanks.

Keira looked around the room to see everyone in a state of sorrow, some more upset than others. Andrea couldn't seem to focus on anything but a patch on the floor, Dale couldn't seem to focus on anything but Andrea, and T-Dog had his eyes closed in some sort of silent prayer.

She turned to find Shane watching her. "What about you?"

Keira, of course, could not answer him, and felt that even if she could she would not know what to say. She remained silent as all eyes fell on her.

"Keira doesn't speak," Roy answered for her. "Martin found her a couple weeks back, in the middle of a yard full of walkers she'd taken out. She was clutchin' a little body fer dear life, we figure it was her little brother. Buried him out back with the others."

"Oh my God," Carol whimpered, "a little boy? Just a kid?"

"Not much younger than yer boy there," Roy gestured to Carl, whose mother now had him wrapped in her arms. "Couldn't o' been more than 9 or 10 years old. They'd been travellin' alone, by the looks of it. Based on Keira's huntin' skills, I'd say they were makin' out pretty good 'fore they got ambushed."

Keira could barely listen as Roy told what he knew of her story. No, she thought, he doesn't know anything. She refused to lift her gaze back to the group, afraid of what she might see: sullen faces, horrified expressions, looks of pity. I don't want pity. Pity doesn't bring him back, it just reminds me that he's gone. Only when Rick spoke up did she look at them again.

"We've lost people too."

That's right, but no children I bet. You don't have your little boy's blood on your hands.

Despite Shane's earlier complaints, Rick elaborated. "We were camped by a quarry just outside Atlanta, got 'ambushed', as you put it. We lost a lot of good people: Andrea's sister Amy, Carol's husband Ed, and a few others. One of our men, Jim, got bit; had to leave him behind. There were no refugee camps so we… I wanted to check the CDC, see if maybe anyone could help us. The only person there was Dr. Jenner, but there was nothing he could do. The building went through decontamination – sort of a self-destruct bomb – and we just barely got out of there. Another one of ours didn't make it."

"They were caught in the blast?" asked Martin, awed by their story.

"She stayed behind," T-Dog finally spoke. "Didn't want to risk it out here anymore. She died of her own free will."

That was when Keira saw it. These people were drained, defeated; the world had not been kind to them, or anyone else for that matter, but it was more than just physical exhaustion. They had gone through so much loss so quickly that they had no idea how to cope with it. They were fooling themselves into thinking they had moved on before even understanding what was happening. Their friends and families were dying before them, and instead of mourning they were being forced to run for safety. But there isn't a safe place in the world.

She tapped Jessica on the shoulder and signed something to her.

"What's she saying?" Lori asked, watching Keira's hands paint the air with words.

Jessica watched carefully before responding. "She wants to know what the woman's name was, the one who died at the CDC."

T-Dog was the only person to respond. "Jacqui," he said, "her name was Jacqui."

Keira nodded in understanding and returned to her reserved state.

"We lost one more back in Atlanta," Rick interjected. "Daryl's brother."

"Merle ain't dead," Daryl shot back, "y'all just misplaced him." No one offered any sort of reply or explanation.

"Well," Roy began, "you folks have certainly gone through hell and back, ya need some rest. We all do. C'mon, I'll show ya to yer rooms."

The group gathered themselves to follow Roy upstairs, giving their plates in. Dale leaned in towards Martin as he handed his plate back.

"That was delicious, by the way. I'll admit, I didn't think rabbit and raccoon could actually taste good."

Martin couldn't help but smile. "A little salt and garlic goes a long way. Rest easy, brother."

Keira decided she liked him. She liked that he remembered how to smile.

She watched the group ascend the stairs, looking as though they'd been waiting to sleep for days. Keira's heart skipped a beat when the boy looked back at her, and she suddenly wished that she remembered how to smile like Dale. Instead, she grabbed her usual blanket off the hook by the door and went outside to sit by her brother. She heard footsteps on the balcony above, and found Rick taking a moment to compose himself, leaning over the railing and taking deep breaths. It was some time before he noticed her there in the little graveyard. They locked eyes for a moment, a confused look passing over his face, no doubt wondering why she was sitting out in the grass. Eventually, he heaved a sigh and returned inside.

The man was obviously the leader of his group, and she couldn't imagine what he was dealing with. All this time, she had thought hers was the worst pain; to lose a family member, to rid a child of life and then try to live with herself afterwards, all because of a promise. But this man was trying to protect ten other people, and had already lost at least four. She felt ashamed for not thinking about other people, but there were so few nowadays, it was easy to forget.

Looking at Ethan's cross, she rose from her spot and went to the pile of wood by the house, returning to the graveyard with some small pieces and a knife. She brought the knife to the first piece of wood and began carving.

J-A-C-…

A/N: I'm baaaaaack. Sorry I was gone so long. That chapter was kind of a trial to write, but now that it's done I get to start making Keira interact with Team Atlanta, yay!

Also, THE WALKING DEAD HAS RETURNED! AND IT IS AWESOME!

D-D-D-D-DROP THE DEAD!

And when I get to Season 3 with this story, I'm gonna have so many more feels. Robert Kirkman, I both love and despise you, you evil genius you.

Thanks for all the faves and follows people! PLEASE REVIEW! :D