A/N: Hi everbody! I just wanted to express my gratitude for all you guys who have been reading and favoriting the story, and are following it. I hope you all enjoy the path this story takes. Thank you so much 3

When I came to a moment later, I was being set down on a couch in the living room. I glanced down at my leg, noted the arrow poking out of my thigh, and felt my eyes roll to the back of my head. "Jus' pull it out, s'no big deal," someone cried from across the room. I felt a bought of nausea roll over me at the sight of my own blood. It was a weird complex. I could handle anybody else's blood just fine but when it came to my own—not at all.

"What happened?" I heard Maggie say from somewhere in the room.

"Like I said, jus' pull the damn thing out," the same gravelly voice snapped before I felt his presence in front of me. I managed to force my way through the haziness and blocked the arrow with my arm.

"No," I said hoarsely. I felt somebody's arm on my shoulder holding me back and I pushed against it roughly. "Don't touch me."

The room silenced in a moment and I took that time to run a hand through my damp hair as I tried to catch my breath. I blinked a few times, clearing my vision, and then glanced around the room. There was a bunch of people I didn't even recognize. "I need room — I need air," I barked out looking around once more, this time with intent. I caught Maggie's eyes and made a face.

Maggie immediately jumped into action. "Alright y'all, ya' heard Clarke. Clear the room. It's okay. She's a doctor. Thank ya' but we don't need any more help."

The guy who shot me with his arrow commented, "What kind'er doctor faints at the sight 'er blood?"

I shot him a heated glare. "What kind of person walks into a house with a loaded crossbow?" He returned my hateful look with equal intensity. I snarled in response.

Rick shot the man a look, saying, "Alright, everyone let's just calm down. What do you need Clarke?"

I leaned back on the couch, wincing as the pain started to kick in as my adrenaline shot down. "My med bag. It's in the trunk. Where's Claire?"

"I'm here." Claire walked into my line of view, her face a ghastly shade of white. She stared at me with wide eyes with her hands were cupped in front of her.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say this was your plan to get us to stay longer," I said jokingly trying to make her feel better.

Claire's lip quivered and it looked like she was about to cry. But then she said, "Literally 0% sense of humor."

I smirked. "And 0% patience." I rifled the car keys out of my pocket and held them out to her. "Go get my med bag. I put it in the trunk." She took the keys and then ran off as if it were a matter of life and death, which I believed she thought it was. "I need that ultrasound I used on Carl. I left it in the bedroom."

Lori was off getting the machine before Rick could turn. It was silent again in the room. She returned quickly handing me the small machine. I opened the lid so I could view the screen, turned it on, and placed the gel on the either sides of my thigh so I could get a 360 view around the arrow.

Hershel was by my side, crouching to see the screen as well. I placed the prong on my thigh, and moved it slowly around the arrow. He was silent as we both looked at the blurry scan. It wasn't particularly helpful, a CT would've given me more but I could just make out my femoral artery, and the tip of the arrow, which missed it by a couple of centimeters. "You're very lucky," Hershel said.

"I know," I responded. "If it was just a few more to the right."

"Yes, that could've been a problem," Hershel agreed.

Maggie said, "What are ya'll two yammering about? Are you gon' be okay or not?" Just then Claire ran in with the medical bag I needed, dropping it on the couch beside me.

Hershel said, "The arrow din't hit an artery so it can be pulled out."

The man who'd shot me said moving forward once again, "Well alright then, let's take the damn thing out."

"Claire," I snapped quickly. "Claire will take it out."

Hershel said, "Are you sure?"

I nodded, motioning Claire over. "Always." Because I was always sure.

I opened the medical bag, and pulled out a box of gloves and instructed Claire to put a pair on. I pulled out a package of gauze next. Opening it, I pressed it to the side of the arrow. "Hold the gauze down, Claire," I instructed. "And grip the arrow tightly. You need to pull it out completely straight. Don't shift it at all."

Claire nodded her head. After a minute or two, she had removed the arrow out and was applying pressure to my thigh. Her face was still colorless, and she was grimacing as she pressed down. I retrieved a sutures kit from the bag as Claire continued to apply pressure until the bleeding stopped.

By now the room had cleared and Maggie was the only one who remained. "What were the odds, huh?" she commented lightly once Claire let the gauze go and I cleaned the wound before putting a few stitches in it. After applying ointment, I bandaged and wrapped it.

"Your place is quickly becoming a hospital," I responded lightly, packing the medical bag back up. I pushed it towards Claire. "Put it back in the truck please," I said to her. She nodded, grabbing the strap and sliding it onto her shoulder.

Maggie nodded her head. "Rick sure has a group, that's for sure." She stood up then, saying, "Hey, I'm gonna' get ya' something to eat." Claire returned before Maggie did and joined me on the couch, glancing from my leg to me and back again.

I broke the silence with, "You did a good job. Had a real steady hand."

"Why'd you let me do it?" she asked.

"I don't know these people, but I know you. If you'd have nicked my artery I'd want to kill you but I wouldn't have. Can't say the same for everybody else."

She laughed. "Maybe like 2% sense of humor."

"Oh, so I'm funny when I'm being serious."

Claire asked, "So now what? Are we gonna' stay another night?"

I answered, "We can go back to the house we were staying at until my leg heals." Claire crossed her arms but didn't say anything. "What is it?"

"Why can't we just stay here? Everyone else is here. Don't you want to be with other people?"

"We can't just intrude on Hershel. We'll stay another night but that's it, Claire." I gestured to the book on the coffee table. "What book is that?"

Claire picked it up, grimacing as she said, "The Bible."

"Good. Start reading." Claire looked at me questioningly. I nodded, encouragingly.

"You can't be serious?" she said.

"100%."

Early that afternoon we gathered outside to remember Otis. Hershel stood reading from the same Bible I had Claire read from earlier.

"Peace I leave with you," he was saying. "My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. The Gospel according to John."

Patricia wanted Shane to speak about his last moments with Otis, which he did reluctantly.

There was something about the guy, his stone cold persona that made me bristle and want to keep my distance.

Otherwise, though, Rick's group seemed very friendly. Carol had come in to sit with me and Claire. She quietly listened as Claire read, and then complimented her on her decorum. Claire lapped up the attention. Lori hadn't come out of the room since Carl had woken up, understandably. T-Dog and Glenn came in to see how I was doing. T-Dog's arm was healing nicely and he seemed to be in a fairer state today. I got a chance to meet Dale as well, who apologized on behalf of Daryl, the person whose crossbow had fired into my thigh.

Dale was particularly likable. He had an easy-going and genuinely caring attitude that even I couldn't stand to be cold towards. I'd briefly met Andrea. She seemed to be going through something and wasn't especially friendly.

I was walking through the makeshift campsite Rick's group had set up with Claire when I heard Shane saying, "We can split up the map into quadrants to look for Sophia." They were headed away from them towards the RV Dale was working on under the hood.

I came up beside it and asked, "Who's Sophia?"

Dale looked up from under the hood and said, "Glad to see you're able to walk."

"Sophia?" I asked again.

His kind smile dropped. "She's Carol's daughter. She ran off a few days back when a group'a walkers passed by us. Chased her through the woods but lost her trail by night."

My eyebrows went up at his words. Poor Carol. I couldn't imagine being in her position. But then a small part of me thought how could she just let her daughter run off like that either? I shook my head, and said, "Thanks Dale." I turned around and started back towards Shane and the group he was speaking to.

When I got up to him I said, "I want to help look."

Shane, Daryl, Rick, and Maggie all turned to look at me. Rick said, "Alright, then, we've got an area off west that needs to be checked out."

Daryl snapped, "She ain't one of us. We don' need yer help."

I snapped back, "You've got a child missing in the woods somewhere. Sounds like you need a lot more than my help." Daryl sent me a heated look; I returned it.

Rick nodded his head. "We've got a lot'a ground to cover. The more help we can get the better."

I smirked. "Then it's settled." I grabbed Claire's arm and started leading her back towards the farmhouse. "You're to stay inside while I'm gone."

"No way," she cried. "I'm going with you." I shook my head. "You shouldn't even be going! Your leg is all types of messed up." Admittedly, it hurt like hell, but it wasn't hindering my ability to walk and if push came to shove I could run, too. "Look! You've got a limp. You need me out there with you."

"This isn't up for debate," I said making my way to our truck so I could grab my weapons. I opened the passenger door, grabbed a handgun from the console, and slipped it into the back pocket of my shorts. I'd overheard Hershel talking to Rick about the use of weapons on his property and how he wouldn't allow it but with the flannel wrapped around my waist, the gun was concealed.

"You're right. It's not. I'm coming with you," Claire said with finality reaching in for her own knives. If I was being honest, I felt better having her with me then leaving her on the farm. I didn't know these people, and they didn't know us. They owed us nothing. If something were to happen, who was going to look out for Claire?

Despite Daryl's distaste for us joining the search party, we took off towards the area Shane wanted us to scout, and spent the afternoon traipsing through the woods. We'd gone through an empty barn and house and came up with nothing. As the afternoon drew on, I decided it was time to head back. "So what's for dinner tonight?" Claire asked as we continued walking.

"Mmmm, how 'bout tuna fish and rice?" Claire made a sound of disgust. I laughed. "We've got a lot of rice, so we're definitely having rice. You need a vegetable. Carrots, maybe?" We were walking and talking so much we hadn't even noticed the sound of footsteps beside them, on the other side of a set of bushes.

"I miss McDonalds!" Claire said with a decrepit sigh.

"There is quite a lot I miss, McDonalds is definitely not—." I cut myself off when Daryl stepped into our path toting that damned crossbow. I immediately put my hands up, mockingly. "Don't shoot — again."

He glared. "Oh whatever, yer the one that came barrelin' int'a me. Knocked my damn crossbow right outta' my hands."

Before I could respond, Claire said, "That thing's cool. I wish I knew how to use one."

Daryl glanced at me, and, momentarily, I didn't think he was even going to acknowledge Claire. He didn't really strike me as someone who took to kids. But then he said, "I could give ya' a lesson er two. That is if yer mom'll let ya'." He glanced at me again.

I grimaced, crying, "I'm not her mom."

Claire barked at the same time, "She's not my mom!"

"Yeah, you wish I was your mom, kid." I jostled her playfully.

"Oh, my mistake," Daryl mumbled. An infected fell into our path, stumbling towards us. Daryl instantly raised his crossbow, ready to strike.

"I got it!" Claire cried pulling the knife I'd given her out of the holster on her shorts. I raised a warning hand to Daryl who hadn't put down his crossbow.

"Let her," I said glancing at him before returning my gaze to Claire. She was making her way slowly towards the infected. It was reaching out for her as it walked. She picked up a stick on the ground and then swung it at the back of its legs, knocking it down. She then pressed the branch against its body to keep it down, and crouched down, slamming her knife into its head.

She removed it quickly, wiped her knife on its shirt, and then returned it to its holster. "How was that?" she asked looking at me expectantly.

I started walking again, responding, "Good. I like your use of the surroundings." Claire smiled, beaming large and genuine, putting her hand out for a high five. I met it with her my hand, feeling something warm in the bottom of my stomach but something cold too. What kind of world was it where I was giving Claire accolades for being able to kill an undead person?

Daryl was behind us now, but I heard him mutter, "Who in the hell are you two?"

Claire was still smiling, gloating in her kill and didn't catch his comment. I glanced back at him, saying, "Wouldn't you like to know."