Disclaimer: Not mine. Poo

Notes: Okay here we go, Chapter one!

Thanks for the awesome reviews already! You guys rock! I'm so flattered! : D

to the reviewer worried there would be more angst in this story then romance; don't you worry! It's still a Daryl/Fin story so there will be romance...but especially with these first few chapters I didn't feel right labeling this one a 'romance'... it still is... it needs three descriptions to be fair: it's a Angsty/Drama/Romance! ; P

Chapter One

(Carol's POV)

"Oh Good, we were just starting to get worr…Rick?" Carol jerks to her feet instantly alert, dread curling through her stomach at his expression.

"Where are they? Are they here?" Rick is looking around eyes wild and unfocused. He charges into Fin's old room, door slamming open before he comes back out.

"Where are they?!"

His t-shirt is soaked clinging to every inch of his skin, his hair drips worked into a mass of tight curls partially flattened across his forehead from the unrelenting downpour they just escaped from by finally climbing down the ladder.

Tight knots form in the pit of her stomach, twisting and writhing.

She's seen that look on Rick's face before…after Lori…oh God no. Her eyes fly to each rain plastered body coming down the ladder, moving quiet and morose; far too subdued for the usual light heartedness they display when all together especially after a successful run…

Their demeanor screams of loss, it radiates off every one of them inescapable, agonizing to see.

"Where's who?" Carol's steps away from the fire pit leaving Beth and Maggie sitting on the bench staring at everyone as they come downstairs dripping wet, faces drawn tight and pale.

No one is saying anything and all she can think is that clearly Something went wrong.

She quickly assesses the group pales visibly going stone still where she stands realizing who's missing with a wave of mixed misery and horror.

"Where's Fin and Carl?" She can barely get the words out. Head turning gaze flicking frantically between Rick and Daryl both standing unearthly still staring off into the distance jaws tight.

"Oh, God…" Maggie's on her feet now too moving toward them visibly shaken.

"Why wouldn't they come back?! Why the Fuck wouldn't she bring him back here!?"

Carol has to dive forward grabbing Rick's arm, Michonne grabs him too; stopping him from shoving Daryl again.

Daryl who doesn't react.

Just jerks backward like a ragdoll, barely moving his feet fast enough to stay upright under Rick's assault. He doesn't try to defend himself; doesn't move, doesn't say a word. He just stares.

"What Happened? Rick! Someone tell me what the Hell happened out there!" She's feeling more frantic by the second, if they were dead why would Rick be asking about them; they got separated somehow…they'll be back…she just needs to find out the details and…

"There was a horde…" Michonne's words cut through her thoughts like a hot knife. She's watching Rick's face as she says it, like she doesn't know how to believe it herself. Her expression pained, looking closer to tears then Carol's ever seen her. "Had to be a thousand of them…" her voice goes so quiet on that last part Carol's not sure she heard her correctly…how are any of them alive?

Maggie presses her face to Glenn's chest fist pressed to her mouth to stop any sound from escaping…she was supposed to go with them today…Glenn too.

"Are they…" Dead. No one can say it. It's too final.

"The Hell was That?!" Rick's outburst makes Daryl move finally. He spins to face Rick arms thrown out face pulled into a snarl Carol hasn't seen since Merle was around to rile him up.

"I Don't Know!"

"You telling me she could do that the whole time and you didn't know?!"

"The Fuck you implying Rick?!"

"What the Hell is Going on?!" She's between them in an instant before they can come to actual blows. Michonne is beside Rick not in front of him; just there eyeing him sternly. Carol barely catches her mummer of "That's not gonna bring him back." Rick covers his face with his hand shoulders shaking in silent anguish.

"Carl got separated…" Tyreese looks surprised to find he's talking. He pauses swallowing tightly; but continues when it seems no one else will explain. "Fin went to go save him…and…" He waves a hand eyes wide, looking at Daryl.

Everyone is looking at Daryl.

"I don't even know how to describe it…" Tyreese's voice falters, face blanching hard.

"She stopped them…Killed them…How did she do that?" Rick snarls his question.

"I Don't Know! You think I would keep something like that from everyone?!" Daryl looks lost, his hands shaking when he raises them; dragging unsteady fingers through wet hair.

"Something like what Rick? Daryl? Someone Please just tell us what happened…"

"I don't think she knew she could do it." Daryl and Rick are both staring at Michonne now. "She looked pretty freaked out to me. More freaked out then I've ever seen her and me and that girl on a couple of runs; we've been in some shit." Michonne raises an eyebrow at them.

"No." Tyreese is shaking his head, glances at Glenn and Sasha his eyes wide. "When we were at the Peacock farm they said it; She lives with Walkers…"

Glenn is shaking his head. "What are you guys talking about, please somebody…"

"Fin saved Carl from being eaten alive…she jumped right into the middle of them; and just stood there and they stopped…they just stopped…"

"What do you mean they stopped?" Beth is staring at Tyreese arms raised palms up face scrunched in confusion.

"It was like she was controlling them; she made them do things…it…I don't even know how to describe it…" Tyreese shakes his head again moves to sit in one of the chairs, it groans under his solid weight.

"So where are they?" Maggie's voice is thick with tears a few still glisten on her cheeks where she stands clasping Glenn's hand in hers.

"They drove away." Michonne is staring at Rick again when she answers, expression drawn and tight. "She had to save him, you know that; Rick…Rick look at me." She's grabbing Rick's face turning him to stare at her. "She's trying to save him. It's Fin, come on; you know Fin; Carl is like a little brother to her. She's not here because she's probably somewhere trying to fix him; she couldn't make it all the way back here. She saved Mika…"

"He got bit…" Rick's voice breaks he pitches forward gasping for air, Michonne is almost holding him upright.

"So did my Dad." Beth chimes in. "And you were able to save him."

"No…he…he got bit everywhere…Why wouldn't she bring him back here?" his face crumples in pain voice choked. "I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye…"

"Let's just give her a chance okay? Maybe she can do something; she saved Mika's life. We don't know, it might be possible. Especially with what she did…"

Everyone is staring at nothing; eyes unfocused red rimmed.

Except Daryl.

He turns away without another word.

"Where are you going?" He doesn't turn around at her question, just hefts his bow back onto his shoulder grabbing the first rungs of the ladder; starting to climb.

"I'll be up on the roof."

"Daryl it's pouring out…" Lightening cuts off the end of her sentence punctuating her point, not that he listens. He rarely does when it comes to Seraphim.

"I'm gonna go too, and if they're not back in the morning we go looking for them." Rick is nodding his head he straightens up turns away from them and climbs back up the wet ladder following Daryl.

Their footfalls on the metal surface drowned out by the world splitting wide open in another deafening crack of thunder that rattles the very air, makes everyone's hearts pound in their chests skipping a few beats.

"Someone want to explain to me again, exactly what went on out there today?"

No one even notices the tiny blonde standing next to the far ladder having come up to see what the commotion was all about, and then hearing the words deciding to stayed hidden in the shadows just outside the flickering light cast off of the fire pit. Her hands clasped white knuckled in front of her over the little black box she never lets go of when Carl and Fin are out on runs. The little green light on her walkie barely illuminates her fingertips, is swallowed up in the darkness pressing against her skin like a physical weight listening to them yell and snarl at one another having learned Fin's secret…

She was right not to tell them all; it's tearing them apart.

She watches them all, and listens, praying silently for Carl's safety, that Fin can work her magic and save him too. But more than anything she prays that wherever they are tonight that Fin can hear their pain through the Walkie pressed tightly against her palms.

She has to hear this: so she knows it's not safe to come home.

:: Walking Dead ::

(Fin's POV)

"Come on Carl, Move your Feet!"

My back and arms ache with the strain of his weight my legs shake under me as I fight to keep moving forward; half dragging, half carrying him through the second set of heavy double doors. Both our wet soles slipping on the slick linoleum floor's surface with soft rubber squeaks that echo down the empty paper and stretcher littered hallway stretching before us in the darkness.

The hallway flashes into view a millisecond before the boom of thunder rattles the windows in their frames to our right. Water drips down from my soaked hair I blink it rapidly out of my stinging eyes. My wet fingers slip on his skin trying to adjust my grip as he sags again nearly taking us both to our knees.

"Carl!" I try to keep the rising panic out of my tone.

"Yeah…I know." It's more breathy wheeze then actual voice.

He's not going to last much longer. He's already far too pale, too much blood soaking his clothes; staining his skin. I look down at my boots as we move forward realize were both leaving pink tinted puddles and drips against the pale grey floor. Desperation claws at my insides, prickles across my skin in a wash of alarm and fear.

"Move Carl! Almost there come on."

We keep moving down the hallway. It feels like we're crawling trying to get there; barely moving a few inches with each shuffling step but we make it to the first empty room on the left before my legs can give out.

The empty plate card not displaying a faded name written in black Sharpe tells me it's clean.

I usher him into the room, both of us grunting and cursing breathing too hard trying to get him up onto the bed. The second he's laying down I race back out of the room. I circle the nurse's station opening drawers and cabinets until I locate what I need; a heavy duty black flash light.

I snatch it out testing the batteries and run back down the hall. I slip trying to stop at the right door and hit the floor with a sharp curse and a bone jarring thud that rattles my teeth re-awakening the pounding headache behind my eyes I'd almost escaped from less than an hour ago.

God Damn wet floors.

I hiss in pain limping my way briskly into the supply room grabbing a clean pillow case from the linen cart, holding the flashlight aloft in one hand I fly through the shelves as fast as I can; locating the items I need and throwing them into the make-shift clothe sack. I'm going to need all this and more if Carl has a chance in hell….

No. I will not think that way.

Carl is going to make it. He has to.

Slowly the pillowcase grows heavier in my hand filled with gauze, IV fluid and lines, medical dressing and tape. I set it down by the wall and grab the fire extinguisher off the shelf smashing the glass with a strained grunt bringing the red metal cylinder to bear on the Pyxis machine that safeguards the most precious items in this room.

Medicines.

Real ones.

Powerful pain relievers; antibiotics, sedation…

I grab vials and syringes and needles and finally a clean gown from the linen cart slamming back through the heavy door smashing it into the wall with a solid Bang too much force in my haste to get back to him.

A few of the closed patient doors up and down the hall rattle and shake with the heavy pounding of desperate fists and enraged snarls.

One more mess to clean up after I deal with this first.

I open the door to Carl's room again, he's passed out it seems, I press two fingers to his jawline, watch him breathe slowly. He's still alive.

I quickly start two separate IV's hanging bags with pressure cuffs over them hoping to replace the fluids he's lost; keep his heart pumping as long as I can; long enough to get him fixed up so he can heal.

He has to heal.

He doesn't wake as I work; doesn't even stir, it's not a good sign.

I watch him carefully while I'm stitching and packing and wrapping and finally stripping him out of his blood and rain soaked ruined clothes flinging them away forgotten into the corner behind me. I cover him with the hospital gown and dry blankets.

His pulse is weak, breathing too shallow. Closing the wounds isn't enough.

It's not enough.

I press my lips to his forehead, brush his wet hair back from his temple. "I'll be right back, don't you dare go anywhere without me."

I pull his door shut behind me to safeguard him against any Walkers that might be loose in the ward. Then I'm quickly moving back to the stairwell we came out of on our arrival pausing to briefly check the map labeled 'escape plan' posted to the wall behind a heavily scratched clear plastic lacquer.

I quickly locate the right floor on the map find the maintenance room on the faded blueprint. I race back out the door, pushing past a few stumbling Walkers dressed in a mixture of scrubs and hospital gowns alike some of them are dragging empty IV bags behind them down the hallway as they follow me snarling and rasping too desperate to follow any movement to take stalk in whether or not they will want to eat me once I hold still…Of course being drenched in Carl's blood as I am; I might want to stay out of their reach just to be on the safe side.

I almost pass the room I need. It's tiny name plaque barely visible in the dark hallway, I twist the handle thanking god silently when it turns un-locked despite the faded yellow painted letters on its surface labeling its contents for 'Authorized Staff Only'

I sift through the shelves in the dark find another row of heavy duty flashlights. Use the small bright circle against the darkness to find what I'm seeking after a few passes between black painted pipes and giant filters and…there.

I kneel down checking the tanks, almost full somehow. They must have never made the switch to emergency power before everything fell apart here. I flip the switch on the side of the giant engine and it rumbles to life with the most glorious roar I've ever heard. It takes a few moments but the single light overhead flickers and gradually brightens as it and the rest of the hospital comes back to life.

I climb back to my feet grabbing two more flashlights I stuff into my deep cargo pockets and return to the hallway switching off lights as I move by them.

I've just lit this place up like a beacon to the outside world.

I quickly make my way back to Carl's ward slipping between the dead waiting outside the double doors. I park a nearby stretcher against the front doors after I cross the threshold.

The alarms and blaring equipment all desperate to inform a staff that no longer exists of their patient's lack of heartbeats echoes off everything. Beeping hysteria clamors all up and down the halls.

I ignore them for now, like the ever present snarling still taking place behind closed patient doors. I rush back to Carl's room press my fingers to his neck relief washing through me.

"Thank God."

I grab the machines out of the corners that I need, and set about keeping Carl alive with their help.

Once the steady beep and hissing press of the ventilator echoes through the room I secure his hands to the rails; insure he can't wake up and rip the tubes out of his throat before I get back despite the sedation I've just given him.

I exit his room again, closing it securely behind me and begin one by one pulling the doors open and ushering the dead behind them down the hallway ahead of me. I work slowly clearing out the whole ward room by room switching off all the lights, and unplugging every piece of equipment drawing power we can't waste as I go.

I shove the double doors open and move everyone en mass down the hallway to the stairwell directing them down ignoring the raging headache pounding inside my skull as we all move down through the darkness taking the stairs to the lobby.

Then I return upstairs work my way through the next ward, and the next the same way.

It's systematic and soothing; keeps me moving; not thinking about what happened today as I work. I can't think about it all; not yet. I just keep moving, block it out.

Remove the dead, kill the lights.

Next floor.

Remove the Dead.

Kill the lights.

It's methodical and numbing, distracts me from the pain slashing and ripping at my chest with each inhale whenever I pause for too long. Moving to the next floor stops the vicious ache trying to claw its way up my throat with every exhale.

It's a small hospital, only four floors but half the night is gone when I've finished. I check Carl periodically, he's stable for now, the machines are keeping him alive hopefully until I can figure out how to do it for real.

The rain pounding the glass outside his room sounds like the beating of a hundred angry fists against the pane. The wind rattles and whistles against the building's exterior while lightening periodically illuminates the treetops outside. The heavy fat rain drops seem to freeze mid-air in the flashes of lightening that illuminate the world bright as mid-day for mere moments before they continuing down to earth in the following inky darkness. But in those brief flashes it's almost as if time has stopped, as if the whole world is holding its breath. Waiting.

I close all the blinds over the windows so no glimmer of light from inside will beckon to the outside world; broadcasting signs of life. I have to keep us both alive by keeping us as hidden as possible with Carl incapacitated.

Earlier I worked my way outside in the darkness under the heavy storm, retrieving my bow from the car and weaving carefully and quietly between the dead I'd cleared from halls and rooms now left alone to sift their way aimlessly around the parking lots. Their snarls echoing each cracking roar that filled the sky peeking them into an angry frenzy over sounds they can't reach; can't locate to investigate. I ignored their cries: too busy checking the outside of the building for visible lights.

When I finally returned to the Carl's ward I was long past soaked to the bone, shivering despite the warm summer air. My shoes squeaking on the slick floor with each careful step; trying not to slip again my hip aching from my first hard fall earlier in the night.

I stood in his doorway indecision and anxiety beating at me, making me question every moment, every decision I've made in this God Forsaken day. But at least I was confident that now we were mildly safer from discovery with the outside building nothing but a dark square block of brick against the surrounding darkness.

It was a long time before I moved again.

I feel blank now; Strangely disconnected from it all staring at myself in the bathroom mirror in the silence that stretches between heavy claps of thunder rattling the door and the building around me.

Carl's blood is smeared in a thick swipe across my right cheekbone despite the downpour of rain.

My fingers are discolored and stiff, my clothes smeared with too much brown dried blood clinging to my body making it difficult to move.

I meant to take a shower; change into the clean bright green scrubs I grabbed on my way past the cart outside.

But I can't move.

Can't breathe suddenly.

Heat washes up my clammy skin, burns behind my eyes I don't bother to blink it away. Just stare at the green eyes in the mirror in front of me watching with an almost alien detachment as they fill with tears, spill down over pale cheeks that could belong to a stranger for all the connection I feel with them.

When the sob finally tears out of my chest it's choked and raw.

I stagger back, can't look at myself anymore. My whole body slamming into the door hard enough to hurt; to rattle it's heavy wood surface in its metal frame, palm pressed to my mouth gasping and sobbing on half broken unfinished words that work their way up out of the agony in my chest. I'm shaking with a very different kind of cold, no longer even feeling the heat leeched from my skin by the rain.

My legs give out and I slump down to the cold linoleum floor, my tight wet clothes pinching and scrapping; clinging over cold chaffed skin that barely registers the discomfort.

I press my face to my knees; wrap myself into a ball and finally just let it out.

:: Walking Dead ::

To be continued... ( duh like I'd leave it there! ha! )