The next morning I woke to an empty bed.

We had turned down for the night at about eight, but I had stayed up reading long after Claire had fallen asleep beside me. She was hard to sleep with that was for sure. She hogged the covers, and snored this soft, chuckling sound most of the night. I panicked, noting the lack of her presence panicked, and quickly tossed the cotton shorts and tank top I'd gone to sleep in into my bag, pulling on a pair of light washed shorts. I slipped a bralette over my head as I sat on the bed and pulled socks onto my feet.

Shoving my feet into my heavy, worn Doc Martens, I grabbed a flannel, messily buttoning it as I left the room. I had braided my hair the night before to keep it from getting knotted as I slept and I undid the French braid as I took off down the stairs. "Claire," I called strolling into the living room. The room was empty. I continued into the kitchen where Beth and Patricia were sitting at the kitchen table.

"Mornin'," they both greeted in a friendly tone.

"Morning," I responded distractedly. "You guys didn't happen to see Claire anywhere?"

Beth answered, "Yeah. I saw her head outside with Maggie. Think she was gonna' show her the horses." I nodded my head as a thank you and took off outside. I was headed towards the stable when I caught sight of Claire and Maggie by the chicken coop. It looked like Maggie was showing Claire how to get the eggs, and she was within my line of view that I didn't feel a pressing concern to interrupt.

"Mornin' Clarke," Rick greeted coming up beside me.

"Mornin'," I responded easily. "Hey, do you need help again today? Lookin' for Sophia?"

Rick shook his head. "That's real nice of ya' Clarke. But we got Daryl, Shane, and Jimmy out there lookin' for her." He glanced towards Claire and Maggie. " I gotta' ask ya', who's Claire to you? Daryl told the group she weren't your kid…"

I failed to contain my smirk. "Have you guys been talkin' bout us?" I bit down on my tongue, disgusted by the slight twang in my words. Where that had come from, I didn't know, but I needed to tame that shit.

Rick shifted, shaking his head with a laugh. "Heh, I'll admit everyones'a little curious about ya'."

My brow furrowed. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

He crossed his arms, responding, "It's just very surprising how well you and Claire can take care of yourselves, how you've both survived on your own. And then we find she ain't your kid. It's all a little curious."

"So ya'll thought she was my kid? I don't know why everyone assumes that…I would've been fifteen when I had her."

"Yeahhhh," he responded slowly. "Gotta' tell you its not the most absurd idea, all things considered."

He was referring to the zombie apocalypse we were thrown into. Nodding, I said, "She was my neighbor. We lived in the same apartment complex before." I didn't think he needed to know anymore about Claire, her story, so I didn't tell him.

He asked, "You ever think 'bout travelin' with a group?"

I didn't think it was a serious question so I didn't treat it like one. "Why? Are you offering?"

Rick nodded solemnly. "Yes, actually. I am."

I immediately went on the defense. "You don't know me. You don't know anything about me."

"I know you're a doctor. I know you saved my boy's life. That's more than enough to go on." He looked very sincere with his words, and I thought if that was enough to go on I really shouldn't—couldn't trust his judgment, or the people he had in his group.

"I wasn't going to," I snapped crisply. "Maggie came and told me what happened. And I was still going to leave."

"Yeah, but you din't," he answered simply. I stared, aghast ready to retort. But he started to walk away before I could. "Ya' don't have to make a decision now. Just know the offer stands."

I scoffed before I turned and started towards the RV Dale was working on. His head was perched under the hood. I came up beside him, leaning against the door waiting for him to notice me. He lifted his head, shirked back with surprise, but then wiped his hands on the rag he had nearby saying, "How's your leg?"

I glanced down at it, forgetting that I'd even been injured. "It's fine, I guess. Manageable."

He asked, "Are you going out looking for Sophia today?"

I shook my head. "I offered but Rick says he has it covered." I shrugged. "I need to look at a map and figure out where Claire and I will be heading, anyway."

He regarded me thoughtfully. "Was it always you two travelin' together?"

Something about him reminded me of my father — perhaps his gentle nature and soft eyes. I found myself opening up to him without thought. "Yeah, we were staying in my dad's home outside Atlanta before everything happened. And then a few weeks in we started driving. I'm still looking for our place. If there even is one in this world."

He nodded understandingly. "A sanctuary."

"Exactly," I responded.

He hesitated a moment before saying, "I heard yours and Rick's conversation just a moment ago. I know you don't wanna' join us. But I'm curious why the reservations?"

I thought over his words and then surprised myself by saying, "It's not that I haven't given it thought. But it's safer for Claire if she's just with me. We draw less attention. I only have to worry about feeding her, watching her, taking care of her. Rick has a son, you guys have Sophia to look for, and a group of people to take care of. That is a lot of responsibility. And if I joined your group that responsibility would fall on me."

He nodded understandingly. "But that's the give and take of a group. You become responsible for others but they become responsible for you and Claire."

"I can't take that chance; I don't trust anyone to take care of her but me."

"For someone who isn't her mother, you sure have the same maternal instinct."

I smirked giving a chuckle. "Ah, she grows on ya', I guess. I've known her for so long I feel like I raised her." Dale was quiet as we both stared at Claire, giggling as she chased after one of the chickens, arms reaching out for it.

He turned to me abruptly, and said, "You should think about it." I started to object but he continued, "We would only benefit from having you in the group. I know I don't know you, and you don't know us, but I can tell you're a good person. The way you take care of her — it's evident. We could use someone like you in the group. And I think you'd benefit, too, from having us. It'd give you a moment to breathe, to know she'd be okay if you turned your back for a second. I hope you really think about it."

Dale went back to working on the RV and I stalked off, considering his words. Maggie noticed me passing and said, "Mornin' Clarke."

I offered a tentative smile. "Hey."

"Your leg seems better," she said as she picked up the chicken Claire had been chasing and put it back in the coop. "Have you eaten?" I shook my head as a response.

"Why don't you come into the kitchen with me? I was just telling Claire she could have some scrambled eggs for breakfast." I wasn't about to turn down a decent meal and followed Maggie inside. Carol was in the kitchen with Andrea. She seemed extremely cold, and glanced my way before stalking out of the room.

Patricia had left the room but Beth remained, sitting at the kitchen table filming through a book. "You guys can sit," Maggie said as she moved to the stove and started retrieving the necessary utensils to cook. Claire took the seat next to Beth and I leaned against the doorframe, looking around the room.

Carol was sitting at the table as well, and said to Claire, "And how old are you, Claire?" Claire glanced at me like she needed permission to answer. I grinned to myself, giving her a small nod to let her know she was free to engage.

I felt bad for Carol. I could only imagine how upset she was that her daughter was missing, particularly because she appeared basically incapable of going out on her own to look for her. She was lucky that her group was willing to.

"Thirteen," Claire responded with a smile. Carol smiled and started talking about her daughter, Sophia. Claire was easy to converse with and maintained conversation while Maggie cooked. I stopped leaning against the door, and offered to help Maggie. Maggie gave me the eggs to beat, while she fried them.

She glanced at me as she cooked a few times, like she was trying to decide something, and then said, "Y'know, I thought for a minute there that you were a real hard ass."

I felt myself start to grin but bit it back as I responded, "You think otherwise now?"

Maggie shook her head, smiling back at me. "I think you want people to think you're more of a hard ass than ya' actually are." My instinct was to be offended by her words, but with Claire a few feet away, as well as Carol, it wasn't a good place to start something with Maggie.

I mumbled back, "I'm not a very good person. But the perk of this apocalypse is that I really don't need to be. Being nice doesn't keep you alive."

"I hear ya' but I really don't believe you mean that," Maggie responded as she started shoveling eggs onto plates.

"You don't even know me," I hissed trying to keep my voice low.

Maggie was still smiling. "No, but I'm beginning to."

While Claire helped Lori and Carol cook dinner, I kept Carl some company. He was mostly asleep for the afternoon but by the evening he'd woken up, mumbling in pain. I'd talked to Lori about slowly weaning Carl off of all the painkillers; he'd only had a set in the morning, so I counted out two pills and then helped him to a sitting position. He took the pills and swallowed them down with the glass of water on the nightstand beside him.

"My mom said you saved my life," he said quietly, settling into the pillows. "She said I had to thank you."

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, I laughed. "Well you don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I mean I should thank you. I want to thank you. Thank you."

"No worries, Carl. You gave me a surgery and I haven't had one of those in a while."'

He looked at me with wide eyes. "You got to see my insides?"

Chuckling, I answered, "Yeah pretty cool, huh?"

His expression was nothing short of awe as he asked, "What did they look like?"

"Oh, you know once I suctioned some of the blood I could make out…scales, and some of it was orange…a bit of green with leaves growing off of your stomach. You must eat a lot of vegetables," I said seriously and his face vacillated from surprise to dubious.

"No way!" he said with a small grin. I went to respond but Lori was walking in before I could. I turned to look at her, the smile I was wearing diminishing in a second.

"Hey baby, how ya' feelin'?" she said to Carl softly, and I got up so she could take the seat on the bed. "Did you say thank you to Clarke?"

He nodded saying, "Yes mom." He grinned, then, laughing. "Clarke told me my insides are green and orange and have leaves on them from eating vegetables."

"Well, that can't be true since I can hardly get you to stomach a vegetable," Lori responded with a laugh of her own. Carl made a face that had Lori and me laughing but our laughter was quickly clipped off by the sound of a gunshot firing outside. Lori jumped up, her face ridden with panic. "What was that?" She made her way over to the window to peak out as I exited the room, trying to find Claire.

She was still in the kitchen, peeling potatoes at the table with Carol. "Was that a gunshot I heard?" Carol asked as Hershel came waltzing into the room. I was about to respond when the front door opened and heavy footsteps came running in.

"We need Clarke!" I heard Rick cry. I glanced at Claire who was staring at me wide-eyed. She got up, following me into the living room where Rick and Shane were holding Daryl on his feet. He was pretty dirty and I couldn't tell what was the injury until I noticed the blood pouring from a wound on his head.

Claire reached into the pocket of my shorts, grabbing the car key while murmuring, "I'll get your bag." I walked over to Daryl; he was unconscious and the wound in his head appeared superficial but I couldn't tell with all the blood in the way.

Hershel said, "You can bring him upstairs. There's a bedroom up there for him." He said in it a sort of clipped way that made me believe Hershel wasn't particularly happy about the whole matter. Whatever had happened; which made me wonder what did happen.

"What happened?" I asked, looking to Glenn for an answer since Rick and Shane were bringing Daryl upstairs. We followed behind them.

"Uh…Andrea thought he was a walker — she accidentally clipped him."

We moved towards the bedroom Hershel was prepping. Claire came trotting up the stairs with my bag in hand, and I took it from her, waltzing into the room to do what I did best. I set it on a chair by the bed they'd laid Daryl in and took out a set of gloves, sliding them on, before ripping open a bulky dressing and pressing it to the side of his head.

"I need a towel and a bucket with some water — preferably hot if that's possible," I said as I kept the pressure on his head. I applied pressure till it stopped bleeding and by then Rick came back with a large bowl of hot water and a clean towel. I took them from him before sitting on the edge of the bed and removing the dressing so I could clean the wound and see it better.

"Is he gon' be alright?" Rick asked standing near the doorway. Everyone else had cleared the room, except for Claire who was standing at the end of the bed. I cleaned the wound, and parted his scalp to see that the bullet had only grazed his skin.

"Yea', it's not too bad. Superficial wounds bleed a lot but there's no real damage." I reached into my bag, and pulled out a small box. Inside was an array of surgical glue. I didn't think it was necessary to run sutures through his scalp since the wound was hardly deep at all. I pulled out some antiseptic solution, and applied it with an antimicrobial gauze pad.

After cleaning the wound significantly, I opened the dermabound packet, and sat up so I could get better access and make sure I sealed the wound effectively. Holding onto the side of Daryl's face, I tipped his head down on an angle, and started to fill in the wound.

He came to a moment later, grabbing onto my waist and pushing me away from him with a grunt. I held onto his face, pressing forward. "If you don't stop I'm gonna' get all this glue on your face!" I cried as Rick came over on the opposite side and pushed Daryl down.

"Get off er' me!" he snapped trying to push back Rick. I lifted the tube of glue, sitting away from him.

"Do as he asks," I told Rick calmly. "He doesn't want to be treated, I won't." I looked at Daryl seriously; his expression was pretty annoyed. "If I don't close that wound it's going to get infected. I don't have to tell you what'll happen next." He stared, stubbornly.

"Daryl, let her help," Rick said.

I rolled my eyes. "Or maybe I do need to tell you? It's going to start to smell, and seeing as you sleep in a tent, you'll probably notice bugs in it, too."

"Daryl," Rick said again with a tone that suggested more than his name was giving away.

"Alright, alright," he snapped gruffly.

I glanced at Rick before leaning forward, and instructing Daryl, "You need to lean your head down a bit." Even while sitting, he was a head taller than me, which said something because I was pretty tall myself. I finished gluing the wound closed, before blowing on it to get it to dry. Daryl flinched when I did but I ignored it, gently running my finger along his scalp before I sat back again.

Rick was staring at Daryl, or rather his stomach, with a serious expression. "Were you bit?" he asked seriously.

Daryl looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes narrowed. "No."

Rick gestured to his side. "Then what's that?"

"I got bucked off that damn horse, 'n one of my arrows cut me." Rick looked at me like I was supposed to confirm his story or something. I looked at Daryl questioningly. "Yeah, alright." He shifted, lifting the side of his dirty, ripped shirt to reveal his bloody side.

I picked up the bowl I'd used to clean his head, and dipped the towel in it before dabbing at his side. He tensed at my touch, but then relaxed as I worked away the dirt and dried blood from his wound.

"It looks like a puncture," I thought aloud.

"See? I told ya'. We finished here?" Daryl snapped.

"You're lucky you didn't hit your spleen." He didn't say anything, just sort of grunted as if that was a response. I said, "I'll have to stitch it." I reached into my bag, looking for the suture kit.

Rick asked, "Daryl, if I get a map can you point to where you found Sophia's doll?" This was news to me, that Daryl had found something of Sophia's, and I stopped my search, to look between them. Daryl gave a short nod, and Rick walked out, presumably to get a map.

I held up a vial of Lidocaine. "Do you want to me to numb it before I do stitches?" Daryl grunted again and shook his head. "Is that a no?" He made a face. "Are you sure?" He made another noise, and I assumed that meant no. "Okay, then," I mumbled before I got to work on his stitches. Daryl tried to remain unmoving as I worked the needle through his skin but I knew that he regretted not numbing the area. Whatever, I thought. He was the stubborn one.

Once I finished the sutures, I lined the wound with antibacterial ointment, and then covered it with a sterilized dressing, taping it down. All the while Claire stared, not once making a sound. I thought her quiet attentiveness would've made her a good intern if the situation were different. Like if we weren't in some weird zombie apocalypse in the middle of bumblefuck Georgia.

"You'll have to have the stitches in for at least a week, and you should take it easy or you'll reopen that wound," I told him not that he was listening to anything that I was saying. I removed my gloves, tossing them in a trashcan by the nightstand. I put my things back in my bag and nodded towards Claire. Rick was walking back into the room wielding a map that he laid down on the bed.

"Thanks Clarke," Rick said probably knowing that Daryl wasn't going to say thank you. I nodded to him once, before walking out with Claire. Claire and I returned downstairs where dinner was just about to begin. We joined the very full table on the end. Claire was next to the edge, and I was next to Maggie who was sitting next to Glenn. Carol, Lori, Beth, and Patricia were across from us. Hershel was at the head with Shane next to him, and T-Dog on his right.

"How's Daryl?" Carol asked with nothing but concern in her voice.

I answered, "He'll be alright. He came to while I was fixing up his head. He had a pretty nasty wound on his side, too. He'll be fine, though."

Carol nodded and offered a small smile. "Oh, that's good. We're very lucky you're here, Clarke."

Lori nodded. "I don't even want to think what could've happened if you weren't here." I knew she was talking about Carl and I thought at the very least she would've had Hershel work on him and that might've saved his life but, still, I understood what she was getting at. "And we're happy you're here, too, Claire," Lori added, pulling Claire into the conversation. She was busy enjoying the meal, eating rather obnoxiously with a full munch.

I nudged her, muttering, "Manners, come on." She turned to glare at me before swallowing her mouthful.

"Oh, I have to bring Carl a plate," Lori said suddenly standing up to go make a plate.

"His appetite's returned?" I asked. "That's good."

Lori nodded. "Yeah, but you know kids. He wants junk to snack on instead of real food. Not that there's an abundance of options."

"You know," I said. "Why don't you have Claire bring Carl a plate, and you can finish your dinner? Claire you don't mind, do you? You can bring your food with you." Lori turned to look at us with an appreciative smile, nodding her head. Claire turned to me, shrugged, and then got up taking the plate from Lori, and grabbing hers before she walked out.

I didn't think Claire realized what the implication of the move was, having her go eat with Carl. But I figured if I was considering joining the group, it wasn't just about me getting to know everybody, but Claire as well.