I want to thank Nelle07, Becca, and Hell's-FunnyHome for reviewing. And an extra thank you to Hell's-FunnyHome for the suggestion. The beginning of this chapter isn't very original but it does get more original in the middle and end.

Hope all of you enjoy please review; I'm open to suggestions and tell me if I'm doing good, bad, or in the middle

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters.

Chapter 8:

Jennifer drove along the dirt road that led to the Greene's home. She passed fences lining large fields full of, what looked like to Jennifer, grass. The land was so open and free with the majority of the trees making a boundary around the property. It was nothing like the suburban neighborhood Jennifer had grown up in. She wished she would have had a yard this big to play in with her sister as a child, but their small backyard had been enough to satisfy them with their old swing set and deformed concrete. Jennifer recalled one day, when she was playing with her sister outside, she had tripped over a jagged piece of concrete. She had cut her knee pretty bad. Her sister had started bawling crying at the first sight of her sister's blood. Jennifer had repeatedly tried to reassure her sister that she was fine. It wasn't until Jennifer had cleaned up her cut and started eating ice cream with Mackenzie did her sister stop crying.

Before she knew it, she had pulled up to a large, two story farmhouse where her group members were starting to flood out of along with others, who Jen assumed were the owners of the land. As Daryl parked his bike, Jennifer turned the car off and made her way to the rest of the group to see what had happened.

"How is he?" Dale was the first to speak.

"He'll pull through," Lori said as she nodded her head and a reassured smile formed on her lips. She moistened her lips before continuing. When she spoke she looked to an older man who stood beside a small blond woman. "Thanks to Hershel and his people."

"And Shane," Rick said in a husky, tired voice. He was in obvious need of a shave because his facial hair was starting to grow out in a mixture of gray and black, "We'd have lost Carl if not for him."

Jennifer looked to Shane, who had approached the group; he had shaved his head and was wearing a plaid shirt and a pair of overalls that looked way too big on him. He looked to Jennifer, who just looked him up and down before turning her attention back to the rest of the group. She watched as Dale hugged Rick to comfort the man and Andrea made her way over to T-Dog. It was then that Jennifer noticed the white bandage on the man's arm and she assumed that they had fixed him up.

"How'd it happen?" Dale asked.

"Hunting accident. That's all, just a stupid accident." Rick sounded like he was on edge and Jennifer thought it would be smart not to ask any more questions.

The younger blond girl, who Carol had introduced to her as Beth, took a stone from the wheel barrel and placed it on the large stack before them. Jennifer was informed that this was supposed to be a funeral for a man named Otis.

"Blessed be God," Hershel spoke from the book before him. He was dressed in a crisp gray suit and Jennifer had to wonder how he was not having a heat stroke, they were in the shade, but even in her shorts and mid sleeve plaid shirt she was hot. The Next one to place a stone on the pile was a man named Jimmy "Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Praise be to him for the gift of our brother Otis, for his span of years, for his abundance of characters; Otis, who gave his life to save a child's. Now more than ever, our most precious asset. We thank you, God, for the peace he enjoys in your embrace. He died as he lived, in grace."

"Shane," Jennifer looked at Shane who was staring at the ground with his mouth slightly open and his facial expression indicating that he was deeply in thought, but when Hershel said his name the trance broke and he looked at the older man. "Will you speak for Otis?"

"I'm not good at it," Shane said, not daring to meet Hershel's gaze. He stared at the overalls he was wearing before slightly picking up his head and whispering. "I'm sorry."

These actions were what made Jennifer become suspicious as she looked at the man curiously, trying to read his facial expression.

"You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments." The other blond headed woman named Patricia said as she fought back the tears building up in her eyes. "Please. I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning."

Everyone now looked to Shane and only then did he meet the gaze of Patricia. When she ceased speaking Shane looked away with a look like he didn't know what to do, but he made up his mind and whispered, "Okay." His gaze fluttered from several different places until it rested on a spot in front of him.

"We were about done." He began in a gruff voice. "Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad. Ankle all swollen up. 'We've got to save the boy.' See, that's what he said."

Shane bit his lip before continuing in a sad voice. "He gave me his backpack. He shoved me ahead. 'Run,' he said. He said, 'I'll take the rear. I'll cover you.' And when I looked back…" He paused looking at Patricia with his brown eyes. That's when Jennifer's suspicions were cleared. She recognized the look in his eye. Guilt.

Shane then limped began to limp towards the wheel barrel, speaking as he did so, "If not for Otis," he retrieved a stone from the wheel barrel and limped to the pile, "I'd have never made it out alive. And that goes for Carl too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death ever had meaning, it was his."

Patricia nodded as Shane placed the stone atop the pile and looked directly at Jennifer.

After Shane's speech the others had dispersed and went about to do what they wished. Shane watched as Jennifer calmly marched up to him with a devious look in her eye.

"Great story, Shane," she said to him. He was taller than her so she was staring up at him but not by too much. He held a smile on his face from seeing the woman once again. "Too bad it was a lie."

The smile on Shane's face immediately dropped as his eyes grew worrisome as the woman stared up at him with a knowing look on her face. He struggled for words, not knowing how to respond. He had felt a connection with Jennifer and had thought she had felt the same with him. He thought he understood her and could read her, but now she held a secret that could end him. He didn't know if he could trust her or not and the not knowing was what was killing him.

"Don't worry," she leaned in closer and rested her hands on his chest whispering to him, "I won't tell."

She then backed away with a sly grin and walked off. Little did Shane know, she understood more than anyone that sometimes you had to do drastic things to survive.

Jennifer watched as everyone hustled about trying to set up camp. She spied Daryl, Shane, Andrea, Rick, Hershel and Maggie as they discussed what to do about Sam. As everyone focused on what they were doing, Jennifer knew it was the perfect time to go.

She had overheard Hershel say something about Rick and Shane not being able to go so they postponed the search until tomorrow. Jennifer couldn't wait until tomorrow to search, so she decided to sneak off and look by herself. She figured that with everyone being so busy they wouldn't even notice if she was gone for a few hours. And anyways, I don't take orders from them; I can do whatever I damn well please, she thought as she began walking towards the forest with only a glance behind her to make sure no one was looking.

She made it to the line of trees that made up the entrance of the forest and darted in to begin her search. She tried to take in all of the area surrounding her so she would be able to make her way back and not be tromping around the woods for hours going the wrong direction.

She navigated through the forest carefully, trying not to relive what happened last time she was in the forest alone. Her mind started to drift back to what happened in the woods. She thought about Daryl and how he had looked so concerned when he saw her laying on the forest floor. She thought of how a mere touch of his hand had changed something in her, made her feel… different.

Focus Jennifer! Her mind snapped at her, You are looking for Sam not daydreaming about that racist, sexist, redneck asshole. Jennifer shook her head and grabbed onto one of the vines that hung from a tree so she could pull herself up a particularly steep incline. Jennifer reached out for a sturdy looking tree to pull her the rest of the way when there was a sharp snap and she went tumbling down the hill. Luckily, this fall wasn't as bad, so she thought. She lay on the ground still clutching the vine. She looked the broken vine in her hand over before scoffing and throwing it to the side. She began picking the leaves out of her hair and brushing the dirt off of her face. When she did so, she felt a pain in her forehead. Great, now's the time I get a migraine, she thought as she rolled her eyes and sat up.

She felt a little woozy and had to hold herself up with one hand on the ground as she felt something warm on her head. As the warmth spread she found her right eye unable to open. When she reached her fingertips up to her forehead she flinched as pain shot through her. When she withdrew her hand she found blood covering her fingertips. That's when she realized what had happened; she must have cut her head open on the way down. She scolded her self for being so careless.

Jennifer frantically searched her pockets for something she could use as a makeshift bandage, to no avail. She then ripped off the bottom of her shirt and held the balled up piece of cloth to her head. Just when she didn't think things could get worse, she remembered that the walkers were attracted to blood and she was currently gushing it.

The woman quickly regained her stance and began backtracking the way she had come. She easily found her path back, but had difficulty watching out for things because the cloth covered her right eye. Eventually, though, the woman found her way back to a small creek she had passed earlier in her hunt. The creek was a few yards from where Jennifer had entered the woods so she decided to stop and wash up quickly.

She kneeled before the stream and began to remove the plaid shirt she was wearing, happy that she was wearing a tank top under it. She dipped her shirt in the water and began to clean her face. She winced when she pressed the cold shirt to the cut above her eyebrow, but quickly got used to the icy touch and held it there. She then unsheathed her knife and began cutting the shirt so she could tie it around her head. When she was done, she neatly sat her knife on the bank of the river.

Snap!

The sound rang out, alerting Jennifer. She whipped around and was face to face with something she never would have expected to see. A large, black panther. Its yellow eyes bore into her as it licked its lip, ready to make her its next, meal.

Jennifer quickly turned around to grab her knife, but she was too slow. The large cat pounced on her body. She felt the sharp claws dig into her back and the rush of warmth spread throughout her back as a gasp replaced the scream she was unable to let out.

The woman's body lay on the dirty ground half in, half out of the shallow stream. Her body twitched slightly and her back barely rose and descended in a shaky pattern. Thick, red blood oozed from her mangled back and dripped from her head. The metallic scent of her blood permeated through the forest and in her tangled web of thoughts she knew that the smell would soon attracted the prowling walkers.

Move, Dammit! She thought to herself as she slowly began to drag her arms to her front, collecting dirt as she did so. She refused to die like this. Move!

Her mind, or rather her instinct to survive, pushed her forward and got her to her feet. She was hunched over and swaying terribly, but she was still up and moving. Throwing her body from tree to tree, Jennifer found breathing harder with every second that went by and with only one eye to see out of, things weren't getting easier. Luckily, she was only a few feet from the forest's exit.

Almost there, her mind was slowly fading out, along with the rest of her world. She gripped onto a tree bordering the woods and quickly slung herself out. She stumbled a bit and was able to hold her ground for a moment before her legs completely gave out and the overwhelming pain in her back took over.

Darkness crept at the edge of her vision and she only hoped that someone had spotted her before she collapsed.

"Get her to Hershel!" Jennifer heard someone yell as a strong pair of arms picked her up before she was engulfed in darkness.

"Get her on the bed," Hershel commanded over the commotion. Daryl held the bleeding girl close to his chest as the group followed him through the house. Only Rick, Daryl, and Hershel made it past the doorway and into the bedroom, but that was quickly changed when the crowd parted and Shane limped into the room as quickly as he could. He closed the door behind him as Maggie tried to get the crowd to disperse.

Daryl set her one the bed with her stomach down. The three long, jagged lines stretched from her left shoulder blade to her lower back. Jennifer had passed out but something had jolted her awake and she was now faced with the excruciating pain, but she still refused to cry out.

"We have to remove her shirt," Hershel said as he headed to the bathroom to gather the supplies he needed.

"I got it," Daryl didn't hesitate to pull out his knife and cut the already ruined tank top from her body. He did hesitate, though, at her bra strap before cutting it off too. The men slid the bloody clothes from under the dazed girl and threw them to the side, awaiting Hershel's return.

Said man reentered the room ready to proceed. He dowsed a towel in peroxide and began cleaning the wound, making Jen flinch when some of the peroxide dripped into her cut. The other three in the room, Daryl, Rick, and Shane, watched in worry itching to know about Jen's condition. At this point, Jennifer's body had gone numb and she could barely feel the cold cloth drag across her back.

"Oh dear," Hershel said when he had finished cleaning the wound. It was worse clean. It was deeper than Hershel had thought and little pieces of skin dangled from the edges of her wound. Upon further examination, Hershel had realized that small fragments of claw had remained in her wound. "It seems that the claw of the animal that attacked Jennifer couldn't withstand the pressure and pieces are stuck in the wound."

"So?" Daryl was the first to voice his opinion as he looked at the veterinarian, wondering why he was wasting his time talking rather than helping Jen.

"I have to dig it out or the cut won't heal properly," Hershel said as he looked to each man making sure they understood the seriousness of the woman's condition. "It's a painful process and we used all of the anesthesia on Carl."

"We gotta get more." Shane spoke before thinking and then remembered what had happened last time. Luckily, Rick and Daryl quickly agreed with the man leaving no time to ponder on the past.

"We don't have time," Hershel tried to reason, to no avail. The four continued to argue as the men stood their ground saying they couldn't let Jennifer go through that kind of pain. They had already seen what it did to Carl and that was just one, she had three.

"Do it, dammit," Jennifer whispered catching the men's attention. They looked to each other then back at the glaring woman before Rick nodded and Hershel began to give orders.

"Daryl, Shane, I need you to hold her arms and legs. Make sure she doesn't move," the two men nodded as Daryl grabbed Jennifer's arms and Shane grasped her legs. "Rick I need you with me."

Hershel made his way over to Jennifer's side with Rick in tow. He secured his gloves before taking a deep breath and beginning.

Hershel dug one finger into the first of Jennifer's three cuts. He began dragging his finger down the jagged line collecting shards of claw as he did so.

This time, Jennifer could not hold back the scream that ripped from her throat. Daryl cringed at the shrill sound, trying to look anywhere but the woman's pained face. He felt the woman writhe in his grasp, trying to break free, but she had lost a lot of blood and she was too weak. She was sweating as she grounded her teeth and tried to keep herself together. It didn't work. She continued letting out screams as Hershel continued.

Shane was sweating as his slippery hands held down Jennifer's frantically kicking legs. He hated that she was going through this much pain and he couldn't do a thing to stop it, he could only hold her down as Hershel caused her more pain. He hated that he wasn't the one to save her. He was going about his business in camp when the commotion began and he was passed up by Daryl caring Jennifer's bloody body. He should have been the one caring her. But more than anything he hated that Jennifer went and did something so stupid, so dangerous without thinking about how her actions affect others.

Hershel finished the final cut and was swiftly able to remove his gloves and began stitching. The men that had been holding Jen relaxed their grip and backed away from the girl. Even though he was angry at the woman, Shane felt a smile on his face as he watched the woman's back heave upwards then back down. Her body was slick with sweat and her breathing was ragged but she was alive and that was all that mattered.

"It shouldn't take too long for her to recover." Hershel spoke. He had finished stitching and was now cleaning the wound on her head and applying a bandage to it. "She will be sore for a bit, but everything should be fine."

"Thank you," Shane said nodding to the man before walking out with Rick to go reassure the group that Jennifer was fine. The last thing Jennifer saw before she passed out was Daryl's glance back at her before leaving the room.

Hershel had called Patricia into the room so she could help apply the bandages to Jennifer's back. They were just exiting, leaving Jennifer alone on the room. As she sat there, her body slick with sweat, she recalled a distance memory.

**Flashback**

"Jenny!" The scream rang through the house, making Jennifer spring into action. She jumped out of bed and followed the sound to the kitchen.

"Mackenzie?" Jennifer called out as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. Their father was at work leaving the two girls home alone. "Oh my God!"

Laying on the floor was her sister's small body on the ground with a small pool of blood beginning to form around her head. Jennifer didn't hesitate She scooped up her sister's fragile body, grabbed her car keys, and ran to her car. She placed her sister in the back seat and drove to the hospital.

Jennifer waited for 20 minutes as she repeatedly tried to call her father. After 15 calls a doctor approached Jennifer. She quickly put up her phone and jumped up to meet the doctor.

"Is she okay?" Jennifer asked.

"Of course, Miss Sullivan," the doctor offered her a warm smile. He was an older man with gray hair and wrinkles from years of laughter. "She received stitches on the cut on her forehead but other than that she's fine. You can go see her."

Jennifer breathed out a sigh of relief as the doctor pointed her to her sister's room.

"Jennifer!" Her sister's face lit up with excitement when she caught sight of her older sister. She then pointed at the short line of stitches across her forehead. She was sitting on a bed with her small legs dangling off the edge. "Look, I got five whole stitches."

"Yeah," Jennifer breathed out. Her relief was replaced with curiosity. "How exactly did this happen, anyways?"

"Well," the child began as she placed her hands on her thighs. "I was watching Spongebob. He was eating ice cream with Patrick. Dat's when I membered dat we have ice cream in the fweeza. I got really excited and ran to da kitchen. I tripped hit my head really hard against the edge of the counter. It hurted really bad."

She looked down as she ran her finger lightly against the cut.

"But den you came and saved me." She looked up excited as Jennifer smiled at her. "When's daddy coming?"

The smile that had adorned Jennifer's face slowly faded. "I tried to call him, but he's busy at work."

"Oh," Mackenzie said as she looked down at her little hands. Jennifer hugged her little sister and rubbed her head trying to comfort the child. Their father was always so busy at work that Jennifer would have thought the child would have gotten used to it by now, Jennifer was certainly used to it.

"Is she going to be okay?" Sophia's soft voice reached Jennifer's ears.

"I hope so," Carol said as she hugged her daughter close and kissed the top of her head before exiting the room. Jennifer had managed to turn on her side, during the periods when she was awake, and caught a glimpses of the mother and daughter leaving. She had had many visitors during the day, but he was unable to speak to them only catch glimpses of them and try to listen to their words with difficulty.

At one point, Hershel had come in to check her wounds. He had replaced the bandages on her back and forehead and gave her some painkillers that Maggie and Glenn had gotten from a pharmacy. He told her something about her recovering soon, but she didn't remember when he had said.

Not even a minute before the door squeaked closed, it opened back up. Slowly, Daryl made his way into the room. He had a piece of grass hanging out of his mouth and dirt stains all over him making him look like a true redneck.

Jennifer's eyes fluttered open as she watched him shut the door and make his way over to her. The light tap of glass on wood made Jennifer slightly look upwards. Resting on the bed side table was a glass bottle holding a flower. Jennifer had never seen a flower like this before, but she never really paid attention to the flowers around her. The flower was white with a yellow rim surrounding a light green center; it looked so out of place in the hands of the dirty, redneck Daryl.

As Jennifer's eyes moved from the flower she found them lingering on the redneck, watching him as he spoke. Curiosity is what Daryl found in her eyes so he began to explain.

"It's a Cherokee Rose." He said removing the piece of grass from his mouth with a filthy hand. His eyes darted from the flower for a second then back to Jennifer's big brown eyes. He found that the confusion still lingered in her eyes so he moved closer, ready to explain more thoroughly. "The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on The Trail of Tears the Cherokee mothers were grieving and crying so much 'cause they were losing their little ones along the way from exposure and disease and starvation…" Daryl trailed off looking at the flower before taking in a breath and continuing his story. "A lot of them just disappeared. So the elders, they said a prayer; asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, give them strength and hope.

"The next day this rose started to grow right where the mother's tears fell." Daryl continued. He kind of turned away leaving Jennifer's gaze as he focused on the piece of grass in his hand before looking back at her and talking. "I'm not fool enough to think there's any flowers bloomin' for my brother. But, uh, I believe this one," Daryl motioned to the flower making Jennifer look back at it, "Bloomed for Sam."

A small smile stretched across Jennifer's lips as her tired eyes began to close. Daryl awkwardly turned away from her and left the sleeping girl's room.