Reconciliation

"I'm really getting tired of this bullshit," Jamie growled low as she ducked through a hole in the fencing that separated the side alleys from the back alleys, hearing the groaning and growls from the walkers that were scrambling after her. She turned sharp on another corner, her foot sliding along a loose piece of newspaper that littered the ground and sending her to the hard pavement. She cried out in pain when she landed hard on her elbow and side, the jolt to her already sore ribs giving her pause.

The rasping growls of a walker nearby got her moving again, though—stumbling through the alley in pain. Her heart raced inside her chest as she turned another corner carefully, the hand that wasn't holding her knife gripping her sore ribs. She was sure that her right elbow was now scraped up as well, but her adrenaline was pumping so much she couldn't feel the minor pain.

She glanced back once to see that there were still a couple of walkers stumbling their way after her, reaching out to try and grab her. She cussed under her breath and took a quick right into another back alley, ducking around a dumpster to take a moment and try to regain her breath. The sounds of the walkers weren't hard to miss as they made their way passed the alley, looking around for her.

She swallowed thickly as she leaned her head back against the stone of the building behind her, gripping the knife in her hand tightly. The tenser bandage stuck to her palm from the cuts, tugging every now and again and reopening the wounds. She looked down at the various Band-Aids that littered her other palm, not as painful as her right. A growl nearby made her lean back against the wall as far as she could and raise the knife up readily.

The male walker stumbled out past the dumpster, its dead eyes turning toward her slowly. She waited for it to lunge before plunging the knife into its eye, the body falling limp over top of hers. She held her breath against the chocking stench that rolled off its body, but didn't move to push it away as other walkers dragged themselves passed her hiding place, completely unaware that she was there. She was well masked beneath the rank smell that rose from the dead.

She slowly pulled her knife from the walker's brain, her muscles straining to do so quietly, as the handful of dead citizens stumbled on by. She was soon alone in the alley once more, the group that had been following her splitting off in different directions, the few that passed her long gone. She fumbled with the strap of her gun, tired of running or waiting for them to get close to her. She didn't give a damn anymore if more heard the shot; she wasn't going to die by those things.

She kicked the body of the dead walker off herself and peaked around the dumpster in the way that she had come, seeing that the coast was clear. She wasn't going to chance going the other way since it led out onto the street. That seemed to be where they always were.

The afternoon sun shined through into the alley from the opening, lighting the head of the man she had killed with her knife. She pushed away the guilt and took hold of the gun in her hand, keeping the strap on one shoulder and began to jog back down the way that she had come. She didn't expect four diseased people to be waiting for her when she went to round the corner.

"Fuck me," she yelled to herself before she began running again, her boots slamming the ground. She slid her knife back into the sheath on her hip and thigh, strapping it down so she didn't lose it, and ducked past another walker that popped out of another alley on her way passed. She looked ahead and saw that the back alley she was using was cut off several yards ahead by a fence. She reached the fence at a jump, her feet finding the holes and pulling herself up and over as quickly as she could. A hand swiped along the back of her calf, not fast enough to grab the material of her pants, and she fell unceremoniously onto the ground on the opposite side of the fence.

She choked down a cry of pain as her back collided hard with the ground, her already sore body feeling like it was getting kicked while it was down. She groaned in pain as she rolled onto her side, looking around herself quickly to check for other walkers. She couldn't see any, but it wasn't safe to linger. The noise that the ones behind the small fence were making was sure to draw attention.

Raising her gun up before her, she took a moment to remain on her knees and try to regain her breathing before she pushed forward again. She made quick work of getting away from the small group of walkers behind the metal fence, not knowing how long the chain links could hold them if they continued to beat and press. Her ribs screamed in protest as she jogged silently away from the main back alley, coming to a stop before she rounded a corner to a side alley. She had moved far enough away from the center of the city that she was sure there wouldn't be many more walkers, but after what happened before she didn't want to take any chances.

The sound of shuffling steps made her cringe before swinging around the corner, rifle raised and pointed between two blue eyes. Her entire body seized in shock, her stomach feeling as though it had just dropped to her feet. Her throat tightened and her mouth went dry, unable to turn her eyes away from the familiar face before her, a crossbow lowering away from her face to point at the ground.

His dirty blonde hair was sweaty and sticking to his forehead with mud and dirt covering his cheeks and forehead, she could tell that he had hunted recently, the stains on his skin and clothes familiar to her. The same cut off shirts that she had become accustomed to showed off his arms, just as tense as her own. Those blue eyes, however, pieced straight through every wall or piece of resolve that she had left about her.

"Angel," Daryl Dixon mumbled softly, completely ignoring the fact that her gun was still raised. Her hand was no longer over the trigger, her arms beginning to shake. The one word made the rest of her will crumble and her gun lowered to the ground, a sob breaking free from her throat. Daryl's arm came around her shoulders before she could comprehend, his crossbow bumping her thigh.

He soon dropped his own weapon to fall to join her rifle on the ground, clattering onto the pavement fairly loudly. She was enveloped in his arms in the next instant, her feet lifting from the ground. The pain of her ribs and back being compressed jolted through her body, but she could have cared less. She gripped onto the back of Daryl's shirt like a lifeline as her eyes burned with tears, clearing tracks down her cheeks as they fell and smudging the remains of dust on her skin onto his already filthy shirt. She felt elated and exhausted all at once, her legs wanting to give out but her hands holding onto him with a death grip.

Her feet touched back down on the ground as Daryl bent forward to hide his face in the crook of her neck for a moment, taking in a deep breath to calm the raging emotions inside of him. She could still feel how tense he was as he held her, fearing that she'd disappear if he let her go for a second. Her face was pressed against his collar because of the action, surrounding her in the smell of sweat, dirt, wood and Daryl.

She pulled back enough to see his face again, noticing the moisture in his eyes as she looked him over for any injury that she would not have initially caught when she first saw him. She lifted her hands to run her thumbs over his cheeks, feeling the stubble that had grown around his goatee. His hands took hold of her own and his forehead fell down to rest against hers, hearing and feeling her heavy breathing as she tried to calm herself.

"I'm a'right," he assured gently. He looked down at her hands at the coarse feel of a material on her hand, seeing that she had bandaged them both up and remembered the blood from the roof of the building she had jumped to. "You got hurt." His voice was shameful, knowing that he hadn't been able to keep her safe from everything.

"I'm fine," She whispered, lifting a hand up to run it through his lengthening hair, pushing it back and out of the way of his face. She pulled herself up to place a kiss on his forehead, then down on his nose, on both cheeks and finally a light press of a kiss on his lips. "I was so worried about you," she gasped out, barely audible.

"We can't stay here," a voice suddenly said from behind Daryl, the familiarity taking Jamie by surprise. She stepped away from Daryl as he turned to look over his shoulder to where Rick was standing with T-Dog and Glenn still, the two other men completely unknown to Jamie. "There's bound to be walkers around here, we need to get a move on."

"Right," Jay agreed with a nod, moving to grab her gun but find Daryl already holding it out to her. She smiled up to him and nodded her thanks, taking the rifle from him and turning back to the other three. "I left a group of walkers a couple blocks back behind some fencing, but I don't know how long it'll last."

"Then it's time to get going," Rick answered, jogging passed them to continue on the route that Daryl had been scoping out before he found a gun pointed between his eyes. "We can make introductions later." Jay followed after Rick as he led the way to a destination that they were clearly already heading for, the black bag of guns that he had dropped the day before strapped to his back.

"Here," Daryl said suddenly from where he was keeping pace beside her, holding out a bag to her. Her bag. They must have grabbed it when they were getting the guns. She smiled her thanks as she took the bag and adjusted the strap so that it was out of the way of her rifle. They alternated between running and jogging until they got to the outskirts of the city, the railroad tracks in the distance. Jamie felt a flash of nausea as she looked at the bridge that she had Rick and crossed over on the horse when first coming into the city, remembering the dread that she had been feeling.

"We haven't officially met," the Asian man said as he came to walk beside her once they had slowed their pace to a steady fast walk, holding out his hand for her to shake. "I'm Glenn, the little shit from the tank." Jay laughed softly at his words before she took a hold of his hand and shook it.

"Jamie Knight, thanks for saving my ass," she retorted, getting a grin in response as he retracted his hand. "And you are?" She asked as she looked to the large black man that was walking on Glenn's other side, looking ahead of himself as he walked.

"T-Dog," he answered as he nodded his head in her direction, giving off the vibe that there was something eating at him. She didn't bother trying to engage him anymore, letting him have the time to think to himself. An arm fell over her shoulders and she looked over to where Daryl was walking, looking ahead as he casually laid claim to her. She smirked to herself and wrapped an arm around his waist to slide her hand into his back pocket, feeling his arm muscles tense and jump.

"Admit it," Glenn said suddenly, looking over to where Rick was walking on the opposite side of the row of people as Daryl, "You only came back to Atlanta for the hat." Jay laughed softly and she looked over to Rick, seeing that he took the sentence in good humour.

"Don't tell anybody."

Daryl made a sharp 'tch' sound from Jay's right, still looking forward. "And giving away half our guns and ammo," He added in.

"Don't start it, Daryl," Jamie said softly as she pulled her hand from his back pocket to wrap around his torso, feeling his ribs beneath her palm. "There's still plenty of guns and ammo. Besides, they just draw more walkers, it's best to learn how to survive without them."

"You really are a saint, ain't ya?" Daryl asked as he looked down at her, nestled against his side even in the harsh heat. She just shrugged her shoulders innocently and looked over to the bus that they were passing.

"What are you guys looking for 'round here anyway?" She asked as she rounded the front of the bus, feeling Daryl pull her to a stop as they all paused in their trek, looking toward the tracks. She glanced between Daryl and the other men, seeing the same look of shock and dread on each of their features.

"Oh my god," Glenn finally stated, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl asked rhetorically, his eyes darting around the tracks to see if they had just moved to the wrong place and it was parked somewhere else. But there wasn't a single vehicle in sight, just abandoned train cars and fencing.

"We left it right there, who would take it?" Glenn asked desperately.

"Merle," Rick growled out, looking soured completely. The light mood that had been building as they spoke had disappeared like the morning fog, leaving a seriousness and dread behind that left them all tense and alert. Jamie reacted just as Daryl would have expected to the name.

"Merle?" she asked loudly, looking over to Rick first since he had said the name, before swinging around on Daryl, "Merle? He's still alive?" She demanded in shock, her hazel eyes wide enough that nearly her complete iris was visible.

"We don't know that," Rick said from behind her, drawing her attention back to him again. "I locked him to the roof yesterday and he got stuck there overnight. We went to find him this morning and found only the handcuffs."

"Son of a bitch cut off his own hand," Daryl explained as his arm tightened on her shoulders. "He's gunna be taking some vengeance back to camp," Daryl said with a tone of grudging acceptance, looking to Rick as he said that.

"If we find him there," Jay started with a deadly tone, looking to Daryl as he spoke. He was fairly certain he knew what she was going to say before she actually said it, since he knew of the hatred that she held for his brother for many reasons. "I'm shootin' him in the ass."

"Looks like we're running from here," Rick said regretfully, looking around at all the people around him. None of them made a sound of protest, knowing just how important it was that they get back to camp before Merle Dixon had a chance to cause too much trouble. Shane was there to hold up the fort, but he knew that many people there wouldn't be too happy about him having to shoot Merle, no matter how much of an ass he was.

They kept a steady pace as they jogged from the city, the late afternoon sun beating down on their backs. Jamie tried to ignore the pain of her back and side as she was jogging, knowing that there was nothing that could be done at the time anyway. She'd just have to wait until they reached the camp and have Daryl check if the ribs were broken or just bruised. She knew without the shadow of a doubt that she was already sporting some nasty bruising on the outside.

They sun was going down fast as they got closer and closer to the camp, the city far behind them now. The uneven dirt path made them stumble every now and again, but everyone kept their pace. Daryl watched Jamie carefully the entire time, noticing that her stride had started to lag when they reached the forest. He was assuming that she hadn't gotten too good of a sleep the night before, on alert for walkers and sleeping in the rain.

"How much further is your camp?" she huffed quietly, not wanting to draw attention to their small travelling group.

"Not far," Glenn replied back, just as winded as everyone else. Daryl placed a hand on Jamie's back and nudged her forehead when she started to fall behind him again, keeping up behind Rick instead. He didn't want her falling behind him, she wasn't going to be leaving his sights for the rest of the night and so on.

They kept moving until they were taking a shortcut to the camp through the woods that Daryl had told them about, shrouding them in complete darkness. Jamie felt reassured at the ever frequent presence of Daryl's hand on her back, guiding her along. She watched the glimmer of the metal gun muzzles that protruded from the bag on Rick's back, a few shotguns and rifles short. They all came to an abrupt stop as shots and screams sounded from the distance. Jamie looked toward the noise before she took off at a dead run, the others all moving to follow immediately.

Jamie pulled her gun from her back as she ran, seeing the faint light of fires through the trees. The sounds of gunfire still went off now and again, screams never ceasing. There was way too much commotion for one man. She burst through the trees to a walker straight in her path, her gun rising and firing before it even had a chance to notice her there. Rick and Daryl rushed out after her on either side, their own guns lifted to the threat.

She took careful precaution not to shoot anyone that was still alive in the camp, whistling to get a walkers attention before putting a bullet in its head. She knew that she didn't have too many rounds and fired off shots that were further away because she knew that Daryl and the other men would take out the close ones with their shotguns.

She fired off her final shot, walkers still stumbling about.

A growling sound came from behind her and she immediately swung her otherwise useless weapon around to knock the bastards jaw loose. She pulled her knife from the sheath and stabbed it in the head for good measure before she turned her attention to another. She looked over to where Rick was with a young boy, the child clinging to him. He'd found his family.

She noticed the stray walker stumbling toward the woman that stood a couple of paces away from Rick and took a loose hold of her knife before aiming and throwing. The blade flipped several times, flying passed the woman's head as she shrieked in surprise before embedding itself in the cheek of the walker. She straightened her posture and swung around to look about, making sure that there were no more that were going to rise around her. She winced as her ribs gave another throb of protest, placing a hand over the injury.

"Jamie!" Daryl's voice called throughout the camp, drawing her attention.

"Over here," she said loudly, moving around the bodies of the walkers toward the central area. Her gun was splattered with the blood of the one that she had hit it with, more of it on her shirt and arm. She looked around at the surviving members of the camp with sad eyes, all crowding together at the top of the hill. Daryl rushed toward her, his gun raised away from her in one hand and took her into his arms as soon as she was close enough. She allowed herself to lean against him, the fatigue of the day gripping at her as the adrenaline began to run low.

She could see the eyes of some of the camp members on her as she pulled back from Daryl slowly, feeling his lips against her temple as she looked about at the loss that surrounded her. She stepped slowly up the hill, still dazed, and took hold of the hilt of her knife and pulled if from the walker's face. Everyone's attention slowly began to turn, one by one, to a woman that kneeled, sobbing, over the dead body of her sister, blood covering the both of them.

I know that it didn't end on a good note, but there's just no way to make something seem happy after that scene. However, you have your reunion! I know, finally, right? Took nine chapters, but they've finally found one another again, and were pointing weapons at each other at the time!

A huge THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed, you're amazing!

Chapter 10 – Hush, Hush

He picked up her bag on the way by, ducking into his tent and pushing a bag of extra arrows out of the way. He helped her to sit down on the mattress that made up his bed, his sleeping bag thrown over top, before he began to go through her bag, locating a pair of clean pants and a white short sleeved shirt. He moved back over to the entrance to the tent and zipped it closed nearly all the way, getting a look from Jamie as she leaned back on her knuckles, avoiding her injured palms.

"Arms up," He ordered seriously, watching as she raised an eyebrow at him curiously before sitting up again and lifting her arms up tiredly. Daryl crouched before her and took hold of the bottom of her shirt, not wanting her to sleep on his bed while she was covered in geek blood stained clothes. He hiked the shirt up past her ribs, which were more prominent that he had ever seen. The bruise on her side spread forward at the front of her ribs too, proving that she had at least cracked them. He pulled the shirt up the rest of the way, freeing her arms as well. More minor bruises, many of them healing already, littered her shoulders and collar, but he was relieved to see that she didn't have any more from the city.

He leaned forward to place a gentle kiss against her collarbone, one of the few patches of clean skin, making her shiver in the hot space of the tent. His stubble and goatee ticked her skin, flushing her chest and cheeks. "Daryl," She warned softly, too tired to do much else.