AN: Hi! Thank you to all that gave my story a chance and liked it! Thank you to Love Sucks Just Admit it, Elena, VampWolf92 and HarlowEmeraude. It's actually funny because Eliza and Josie's last name is Harlow. Thanks to all who favorited and followed, you are all sweetheart and made my days :)This has been floating around in my mind for just about ever now and I really want wanted to give our Daryl Dixon some love. I'm also going to incorporate Hershel's children from the comic series. I mean, most of them are going to be dead except for the ones in the show sooo. Yeah. I own nothing but Eliza, Josie and whatever characters you don't know. I would love to have Daryl all to myself though...

Enjoy!

Chapter Two

As Otis and Josephine walked up to the house Beth and Jimmy were sitting on the porch, holding hands and enjoying the summer heat. The farm was away from most civilization and since the beginning of the epidemic, there was not much activity. A few stray walkers roamed the fences but Otis always dealt with them, placing them inside the barn. Life had gone on for them, even after a few of their own fell to the disease.

The couple noticed Otis walking, not with a kill for dinner, but with the two girls, one limp in his arms. Beth stood quickly and went to alert everyone inside the farm house. As Otis drew nearer to the old farm house, Hershel Greene rushed out to meet him. A worried look passed over the old man's as he ran to them. Patricia had come out a well, waiting on the porch with Hershel's oldest daughter Maggie, as well as Beth and Jimmy.

"Otis, what is goin' on? Who are they?" Hershel asked him as he hurried over to him.

"I found them in the woods. She's lost a lot o' blood. Said she tripped. The little girl seems to be just fine," Otis replied, quickly looking down to the young strawberry haired girl.

"Alright then. Bring them inside and place the oldest on the bed in the front room," Hershel replied, sighing, wiping a hand down over his weathered face. "I'll have Maggie tend to the little girl."

"Okay," Otis grunted. Having carried the girl for so long, she was starting to become heavy, despite her light weight.

Hershel turned and yelled up to the house, "Patricia, can you go get my medical bag all set up?"

Patricia nodded, running off to the house ahead of them. Hershel wasn't a human doctor, but a veterinarian. Through his studies however, he had learned to treat humans as well. Being the father of three boys and four girls, who played rough with one another all around the farm, it saved Hershel many trips to the hospital when his child needed stiches or thought a bone was broken.

Otis and Hershel rushed into the house behind her. Hershel was already looking her over as they walked quickly, taking in what was wrong and alerting Patricia to what he would need to treat her, "She's got two large cuts, one on her thigh and the other on her stomach. Her face is bruised, I bet the rest of her is too. I'm gonna need thread and a needle to stich her up and disinfectant. They don't look very pretty."

"Let's just hope she doesn't need a transfusion," Patricia said as they placed the girl down on the bed, noticing the amount of blood on her clothing and on Otis.

"Wouldn't be able to give her one if she did," Hershel replied grimly.

At the jostling movement from being placed on the bed, Eliza briefly opened her green eyes. Eliza was quickly overwhelmed when she felt hands on pulling on her clothing and moving her around. Pain ricochet throughout her body. She had no idea where she was and the first thought was that dead were pulling at her, trying to eat her. She screamed, trying to make her limbs push off the dead. She had a baby to keep fighting for.

"Get off! Get off!" she whimpered, crying softy at her oncoming death.

As she fought against them, Hershel and Patricia tried to hold her down. Otis had grabbed her legs to keep her from kicking.

"Ma'am, I'm Hershel Greene. I'm gonna try and stitch you up. I'm tryin' to help ya," he said, leaning over Eliza's frightened, tear stained face. "Stop fightin' us."

Comfort slowly came to Eliza from the old man's soft voice. She took in his weathered face and slowly her body relaxed against the plush bed. They weren't dead. They weren't trying to eat her. They were only trying to save her and in that moment she thanked every god possibly. Someone above her was looking out for her, giving her another chance to fight on in this new world. She still cried, tears streaming down her face, out of thankfulness, out of pain, and as a thought struck her, out of fear.

"My baby…" Eliza murmured, anxiety filling her when she couldn't feel or see her child; all comfort leaving her. "Where's my baby?"

"She's with my daughters. She in good hands with them. Can you tell me your name? Are you allergic to anything?" Hershel questioned.

"Eliza… Harlow," she managed to get out slowly, the blood loss starting to mess with her head.

"You allergic to anything?" Hershel asked again.

"No… no…" she mumbled, shaking her head as if to clear it.

Patricia let go of her, quickly going to the task of undressing the thin girl. She pulled off the shirt the best she could, pealing it away slowly from the cut on her left side. Her battered torso held many bruises, many scars, and down her right side, a large tattoo was permanently residing there. As she took the scars she noticed some of the bruises yellowing. There were a few though, by her hips that looked like fingers. She spared a wary glance at Eliza's face, taking in the large bruise that surround her right eyes. They weren't bruises you would get from tripping.

"Hershel, you were right. Really bruised up. Might wanna check out her ribs," Patricia told him, keeping her thoughts to herself even though Hershel might eventually catch onto her wave link.

Eliza tried hard to keep conscious again but when she felt someone's hand on her thigh the pain escalated, she let out a strangled cry and fell back, collapsing back into darkness, lying limp on the bed. Hershel stopped in his movement. He was trying to get a closer look at the cut before cutting her out of her pants. He was sort of thankful she had passed out again, it would save her a lot of pain as he disinfected and stitched the cuts.

Josephine started to cry from the doorway as her mother stopped talking but Maggie and Beth ushered her out, leaving Hershel, Patricia and Otis to tend to Eliza.

"I want momma," Josephine cried repeatedly, her round face scrunched up as tears fell down her grimy face. She fought against Maggie who held her little body, keeping her from reaching her mother.

"She's gonna be okay. She just has to have her cuts all fixed up," Maggie told her, crouching down to her height. "I'm Maggie Greene and this is my sister Beth. Can you tell us your name?"

"Josephine," she sniffled. "Momma calls me Josie. I want momma."

"That's a pretty name," Beth told her, ignoring her request. Josie smiled at her, her tears drying from her eyes.

Maggie felt her heart clench. Her mother's name had been Josephine. She had died a while ago, from a random heart attack. It had happen very suddenly and before any medical treatment could arrive to the farm, Maggie's mother had already passed away. Hershel and Maggie had been helpless. The death was hard. Maggie had been very close to her mother and still missed her to this day. Recently, Maggie was glad she was dead, so she wouldn't have to deal with this zombie apocalypse.

Maggie didn't dare mention this to the little girl, to the little Josephine.

"It's nice to meet you Josie. Why don't you come with me and I'll give you a bath while Beth gets you some supper. Would that be okay?" Maggie asked the tiny girl, trying to distract her.

Josie nodded and reached for the older girl's hand. Maggie smiled and led her upstairs to bathe.

"Jimmy, would you go up into the attic and pull out one of the boxes that hold Beth or mine old clothin'? There's got to be somethin' that would fit this little girl," Maggie asked, knowing that the clothes Josie had on needed to be thrown away, to far beyond help.

Jimmy agreed, passing them on his way up to the attic. Maggie pulled Josie away from where her father was trying save Josie's mother, into the bathroom where she would try to make the little girl look human again.

When Eliza came too, it took her a minute to realize where she was again. After a streak of anxiety went through her, followed by realization, she calmed down and relaxed into the worn in bed under her. Never did Eliza think that she would be sleeping in a bed again; the cover tucked tight around her and a pillow under her head. The only thing missing was her little girl bouncing on the bed to wake her up to make blueberry pancakes.

She lifted the blankets from body to inspect the damage. Her side and thigh were wrapped tightly in white gauze, enabling her from seeing the damage. Some of the bruises had cleared up. The dark ones had started to fade to yellow and the yellow ones had faded even more, which she was thankful for. Eliza only hope her saviors had thought they were from the fall. Her clothing was gone, which Eliza wasn't too keen on; it left the scars all over her body open for inspection.

She tugged at the sheet to cover her body as she sat up. Her side burning in pain as she moved. She was careful not to move her thigh too much but even so, the smallest movement killed. There was medical supplies on the nightstand next to her. A large widow overlooked rolling acres of farm land that back up to the wood she and Josie must have been in. The sun was setting, casting a beautiful hue of colors across the land.

The door creaked opened then and bright head of reddish blonde hair peeked through. Eliza's green eyes started to water at the sight of her young daughter. A smile spread across the young girls face and she burst into the room. She barreled through the room, up onto the bed and into her mother's awaiting arms. Eliza did not feel the pain from her daughter throwing herself onto her body; she paid no mind to it as she crushed Josie's small body against hers. She cried into her daughter's hair, holding the most precious thing in her world as close as she could.

"Mama! You're awake!" Josie giggled against her.

"Have I been a sleeping a while, my little Josie?" Eliza managed through her tears, pulling her daughter back to look at her.

Josie was just as she left her, only a lot cleaner and smelling a whole lot better. Her hair was pulled bake into a French braid, showing off her pretty freckled face and tied off with a pink bow. Her clothes were new, clean, and not torn up. Her big blue eyes smiled back at her mother as Josie placed her small hands on Eliza's face.

"Yeah, momma. Don't ever do that again'!" Josie scolded.

"I'm very sorry, my darlin'," Eliza said, placing a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "I promise to never do it again. Have the people here been taking nice care of you?"

"Yeah! Maggie and Beth play with me and Maggie lets me feed the chickens with her! And I got ta help groom the horse! And Jimmy let me ride on the tractor with him!" Josie told her mother, happiness exuberating out of her as she retold her tales.

"I'm glad you have been having a good time," Eliza said smiling at her daughter. "Could ya hand me my flannel shirt and go get the man who has been helping me?"

"Yeah! Just don't go back to sleepy, momma!" Josie said before handing her the shirt and running off into the other room. "Mr. Hershel sir! My momma is awake!"

Eliza gingerly slide her arms into the sleeves; buttoning a few of the buttons to cover herself and the scars. She heard silverware clattering on dishes before heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor. Then before her stood was the white haired, old man that had saved her life. Behind him was the man who had found her in the woods, and three women she didn't know. She guessed the younger two were Maggie and Beth. There was another young man standing there as well.

"Eliza, it's good to see you up finally," the old man said walking closer to her side. "Do you remember my name?"

"I'm sorry, I don't," Eliza said, a bit embarrassed by her forgetfulness. "I remember a man picking me up and that's it."

"I didn't think you would. That's alright though. My name is Hershel Greene and this my farm. This is Otis McDaniel and his wife Patricia. He was the one who found you. They both helped me with dealing with your injuries. These are my daughters Maggie and Beth as well as Beth's boyfriend, Jimmy," Hershel explained. Otis was the big man who had found in the woods. He was a bigger man which contrasted his short wife, the blonde women with many laugh lines on her face. Maggie was tall with short brown hair and eyes. She looks kind and just around Eliza's age, maybe a year or two younger. Beth was blonde with the same brown eyes as Maggie. She was just a teen along with Jimmy.

"It is nice to meet you. Thank you so much for caring to me and my little girl," Eliza said smiled as her daughter climbed up into bed with her. "How long was I out?"

"Four days. You had developed a fever. It wasn't looking good at all. We were afraid you were turning over to one of the infected," Hershel told her. "Maggie, why don't you, take Josie back the dinner table. You all should go eat before it get cold."

Maggie stepped up and took Josie's hand. "Come on Josie, let's go finish dinner."

Josie hesitated, staring back at her mother. Eliza saw her worry. "Josie it's okay. Mr. Hershel is going to look over my cuts and then once you finished your suppa, you can come on back to me, okay?"

Josie nodded before leaving with everyone to return to their dinner. When it was only Hershel and Eliza left, he quickly set to the task of looking her over.

"She always came to check on you before dinner. Not to mention the countless times during the day," Hershel told her, smiling.

"She's my sweet one."

"She sure is," Hershel agreed.

"How high was the fever?" Eliza questioned.

"It was about a 103.4. It was quite high. Not as high as someone that has been infected gets. You must have gotten a touch of blood poisoning from these cuts," Hershel said, looking over the stitching on her thigh.

"You're a doctor?" Eliza asked, wincing as he prodded at her cuts.

"Just a veterinarian. Stitches are stitches no matter on a human or animal. However, I have read a lot of medical books," he replied with a kind smile. "These are clearing up quite nicely. Any pain anywhere?"

"My head is sort of throbbing. My thigh hurts worse than my side, especially when I move," Eliza explained, flinching again when he touched her thigh again.

"I'll give you some pain medicine after we get a little food into you. You are mighty thin and haven't eaten in days," Hershel told her. "Let me check your fever."

"I gave up most of my food to Josephine when we were in the woods. We had a good bag of food supplies and it lasted us a while. It helped I wasn't eating anything. She's a growing girl. My baby," Eliza explained, taking the thermometer.

As Eliza held the thermometer under her tongue, Hershel left the room and spoke to someone outside the room. When he returned, he explained he wanted Patricia to heat up some broth for her to eat, saying it would be the easiest for her stomach to handle. Hershel pulled the thermometer out her mouth and smiled.

"Only 99.4. That is a great change," Hershel said, gathering supplies to rewrap her stitches. "Now, you wanna tell me what happened? You can only get so much out of a four year old."

Eliza laughed a bit. That would be her Josie girl. Her baby was easily distracted at her young age and tended to ramble when telling a story. Collecting her thoughts, she spoke, "Our town had gotten overtaken very quickly. A few of the boys who were avid hunters came back stumbling and wanting to eat us all. I rushed home with Josephine and my husband was already packing supplies into our truck. We were going to try to get into Atlanta like the rest of the town before we were bit. There was shelter there, protection. When we saw the long line of traffic, Gabriel, my husband, decide we had better chances going on our own. Atlanta couldn't possibly take care of so many, especially when some of them were probably infected and looking for medical attention they weren't going to get. We figured it was going to be over run.

"We spent many days in the woods after our car ran out of gas. Josie never complained once, loving that she got this extended camping trip. My husband left us one morning to go hunting but he never returned. I waited the entire day and night but when he didn't show, I moved on, thinking he was dead. There was nothing I could do. I had no idea where he had gone and I was so afraid of those… zombies finding us. So we moved on, just my little girl and I. I tripped and fell down a hill recently and then your man Otis found us propped up against a tree," Eliza told him. Hershel sat next to her carefully, listening to her tell her tale. Tears started to weld up in her eyes. "I felt so bad I couldn't go on. I never meant to leave her. I physically couldn't go on. My baby was going to be all alone…"

Eliza broke down then, sobs racking her body. Hershel placed a comforting hand on her arm. She felt horrible that she almost left her four year old daughter to fend for herself in a world full of dead trying to eat the living. Josephine didn't even understand what was going on in their world. She didn't know about the infection. She thought of them as bad guys, having only ran into them once or twice. Her poor baby would have never survived and the thought crushed Eliza because it would have been all her fault.

Josie came in then, trailed by Patricia, carrying a bowl carefully while taking the smallest of steps. She smiled brightly at Eliza. "Momma! I brought you soup!"

Eliza smiled at her daughter, wiping away her tear. "Thank you, baby girl. How sweet of you."

"Mrs. Patricia made it though," Josie explained, handing the bowl to her mother before jumping up onto the bed, her face becoming serious. "Mamma why are you crying?"

"Because momma is so happy to see you," she explained. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too!" Josie giggled.

"Thank you Patricia," Eliza said to the older woman before sipping the warm broth.

"Drink it slowly. You don't wanna upset your stomach," the older woman warned. She turned to Hershel then. "Why don't you go and finish dinner? I'll watch over Eliza."

Hershel agreed, his face conveying he was still saddened by Eliza's story and sobs, before walking out of the room. Even though Hershel had not done a thing against Eliza and gave her comfort, she relaxed around Patricia a lot more than she did around Hershel. Patricia took notice and gave her the conclusion to how Eliza got the bruises on her.