The Walking Dead: Season Two

Episode IV: Prisoners of War

Chapter One: After the Storm

Previously on The Walking Dead: With the help of Old Jack and his family, Clementine, Johnny and Donald took the Air Force Base back from The Sheriff and his men, though there were many casualties during the battle. Old Jack was killed, Dick and Michael were gravely injured, and Lilly left the survivors to join The Sheriff. Together, the two left Robins in a helicopter, an uncertain fate ahead of them.

They set Daisy down outside of town. They could still see it down the road from where they now walked. The thick, grey, stone road became a cobbled street right under their feet as they entered the town, passing the wooden sign that bore the words: ALL DEAD, DO NOT ENTER, in bold, white paint, just above where the town's name had been carved into the wood. They were in Eastwood now. It wasn't until they first set foot on the wobbly cobblestones that made up the streets of the town that Lilly noticed Jerry begin to hesitate.

"Maybe this isn't the best idea," Jerry decided as he tried to keep his balance.

"We can't go anywhere until Daisy's been repaired," Lilly insisted as she led the way, even though she'd never set foot in Eastwood before. "I can fix her up, sure, but not without the right tools," she explained. "This place looks abandoned anyway. We'll be fine."

Jerry nodded in agreement, despite knowing all too well – they were not going to be fine.

Daisy had only gotten them four or five miles, far enough for Robins Air Force Base to disappear beyond the horizon, but not far enough to be completely out of the woods. Jerry knew very well that he and Lilly were now in Jason Quesada's territory, and just how much trouble they would both be in when he found out.

"Why did you come with me?" Jerry asked curiously as he took careful steps along the cobbled street.

"I didn't really have much of a choice, did I?" Lilly claimed, smiling sheepishly.

"You absolutely had a choice," Jerry insisted. "You're not my prisoner, Lilly. Why leave everything you had back there behind? Everyone you had?" Jerry asked thoughtfully.

"You say that like those people were my friends," Lilly grumbled.

"They weren't?" Jerry asked, certain that Lilly was lying. When he left Crawford and its people behind him, Jerry couldn't have honestly said that he never looked over his shoulder at least once and had second thoughts about leaving that town behind. Just like Jerry had abandoned a doomed civilization, Lilly had just done so too, only Jerry had begun to doubt that she'd made the wrong decision, especially considering where they were now.

"Not all of them," Lilly explained, her thoughts traced back to the many tough times the group had faced together, and how they'd overcome them all as a team. "We had a good run, but it's over." Lilly paused. "The way they're going no, if they this up, they're not going to make it much further." She bowed her regretfully. "That poor little girl…"

"Clementine, was it?" Jerry asked, having not forgotten the child who'd so easily foiled his plans. He saw Lilly nod. "I don't think you have to worry about that one," he assured her, an arm over her shoulder to comfort her. "She's a survivor, like us."

Lilly stopped, her head still down. Jerry retraced his steps back to her, where he put his arms around her again, only to find that she was crying softly. Jerry put his rough hands on her soft, wet cheeks and wiped the tears away. Their eyes met, and Jerry's heart raced. He leaned in, and Lilly closed her eyes. It was a good thing Jerry hadn't done the same, otherwise he would not have seen the armed figure emerge from a corner behind Lilly.

"STOP!" The bandit yelled, pointing the rifle in their faces as he marched towards them.

Looking around him, Jerry saw more and more bandits emerging from every nook and cranny of Eastwood, all armed to the teeth. And then Jerry heard that sound.

His intimate moment with Lilly had made Jerry's heart race, but when he heard the sound of metal on rock, Jerry felt his heart stop. He turned around slowly, afraid of what he'd see. "Jerry!" From the end of the cobbled street, Jason Quesada walked down the cobblestone, dragging his axe beside him with every step. "What a pleasant surprise," he said, smiling.

When Michael awoke, he found himself very lost. He felt a sharp and piercing pain in his back. He reached down, underneath the bed's surprisingly soft and warm sheets, and felt one of the bed's springs jabbing him in the back. That was when he felt another pain. This one far greater. He pulled the bed sheets aside to find the lower half of his bare, muscular chest heavily bandaged. Michael looked at the bandages uncertainly, with no idea where they'd even come from. He barely remembered the battle for the Air Force Base. The only reminder was the stabbing pain in his abdomen. A wound he couldn't even remember getting. That was when the Doctor stepped into the barracks.

"Ah!" The Doctor looked up from the clipboard in his hands and smiled. Looking down the glasses on his nose, he seemed surprised to see Michael with his eyes open. "I see we've finally decided to wake up." Who the hell was this guy anyway?

"I'm sorry," Michael apologised as he slowly sat up, fighting the many aches and pains that threatened to drag him down. "Who are you?"

The Doctor sighed then laughed at himself for his own foolishness. "You'll have to forgive me," he said as he approached Michael. "We haven't me. I'm Dr Phillips – Dr George Ian Phillips," he explained as he presented his left hand, tucking the clipboard under his arm, for Michael to shake. "It's good to finally meet you, Michael. Properly I mean."

So Michael shook the stranger's hand, despite still being hopelessly confused.

"I'm still a little lost here," Michael said as Dr Phillips scribbled some notes. "I don't remember anyone mentioning a Doctor. Are you one of Clementine's friends?"

"Actually I've been here a lot longer than Clementine and her friends," Phillips admitted.

Michael got a bad feeling. He could see where this was going. "Go on," he urged.

"I worked for The Sheriff and his men. I was a member of his little group for almost three months until you and your father showed up and… well," the Doctor struggled, "the rest is history." He laughed in the face of adversity, trying his best to ignore the elephant in the room. He knew Michael was not The Sheriff's biggest fan, and he knew he was looking for revenge for his dead father in any form he could find it.

"My father," Michael murmured as he slowly began to remember. And that was when the battle came to him as clear as day. He remembered The Sheriff, Tommy, and the look in their eyes when they shot down his father.

Michael leapt out of his, throwing himself against the defenceless Doctor, and sending them both plummeting to the floor. The Doctor tried desperately to kick and punch his way out of Michael's grasp, but he had already wrestled him to the ground, and now had his heavy, strong hands wrung tight around the innocent Doctor's neck.

"STOP!" A voice bellowed from across the room, turning Michael as still as his own shadow as he finally released his grip on the poor Doctor's throat. Michael saw his uncle sat in another bed across the same room. Dick leaned forward. "Let him go," he urged Michael through gritted teeth. But Michael refused to stand up and let the Doctor go after learning of his connection to the same man who'd murdered his father. The man, known only as The Sheriff, whose wounds this man had likely healed in the past instead of putting down like the rabid dog Michael knew him to be.

"Don't you know who this guy is?" Michael spat the question at Dick, his eyes hot and red with a vengeful rage.

"I do," Dick explained. "He's the man who saved my life."

Molly stood peacefully at Todd's grave, her head bowed and her eyes shut, as she thought back to the day they'd first met. She still remembered the way Todd had stood with his mouth hung open in astonishment when he'd first seen the way she jumped from building to building and rooftop to rooftop. She just wished that when she opened her eyes again, he could be there. She opened her eyes. She saw Clementine, who had appeared out of thin air, stood by her side. She mimicked Molly. Her head was also bowed as she stood paying her respects to the boy she hardly even knew. Life was short, she knew that now.

"Hey there," she greeted Clementine, even managing the faintest of smiles.

"Hi," Clementine said, looking up at Molly. "I'm sorry about your friend."

Molly laughed nervously, masking her tears. "It's okay. I just miss him is all."

Clementine looked at the grave again. Even after all the things she'd witnessed, the thought of a person being trapped under all that soil made her skin crawl and her stomach churn.

"Where's everyone else?" Molly asked, eager to change the subject from Todd.

"They're getting ready to say a few words," she replied, "for Jack."

Molly smiled again. "I never even met the old man," she realised then. "But he saved our sorry asses, so I guess I owe him that much." She stepped away from Todd's grave. "C'mon," she urged Clementine, "let's go get Donald and Alice." She took Clementine's hand.

Donald and Alice hadn't been seen apart from each other since they'd been reunited after the battle for the Air Force Base. Of course, they hadn't had much time to celebrate. Things had been better for the group, and there were still many unresolved issues to be attended to. Together, they sat on the RV's steps, holding each other's hand like they'd never let go.

"Molly," Alice welcomed her warmly. "It's so good to see you smiling again."

"Thanks, Alice." Molly shyly accepted the compliment. "It's even better to see you two together again," she told the adorable couple, who were the reason behind her smile.

But Donald had a chip on his shoulder, and struggled to smile. "We never would have been apart in the first place if that idiot in there hadn't driven off into the sunset like one of the Dukes of Hazard," he complained, gesturing at the RV behind him with his thumb.

Donald had been referring to Johnny, and the cowardly departure he'd made in the RV after The Sheriff's men had shown up and threatened the group. Against Donald's wishes, he'd fled Robins in the RV, leaving the entire group behind, and Donald was yet to forgive him.

"C'mon, Donald, give him a break," Molly said, having always had a soft spot for Johnny. "The kid panicked, and can you really blame him? Besides, he did return with an army…"

"He still abandoned his friends – my wife for Chrissakes! The idiot took off without my permission, he practically kidnapped me!" Donald was exaggerating, but Johnny had abandoned his friends, that couldn't be denied. Ever since he'd returned, he'd kept himself shamefully hidden away in the RV. "And let's not forget, the maniac still murdered one of our group!" Donald whispered, aware of the seriousness of the matter.

Molly had not forgotten about Tom. Though she had hoped that, given enough time, the problem would have gone away. But murder wasn't a problem that went away overnight.

"He poisons an innocent little girl? Murders her father? What else does he have to do?"

Molly didn't know how to answer Donald's question. "C'mon. They're waiting for us," was all she could think to say. She knew this had to be dealt with. But she also knew what that meant, and Molly had already lost enough friends for one lifetime.

And so, Molly, Clementine, Donald and Alice joined the others at Old Jack's grave, leaving Johnny, who remained hidden away inside the RV. Little did they know, the boy had heard every word. Little did they also know, that the RV's keys were still in the ignition.

Johnny's tired eyes darted from the keys, that had been carelessly left in the RV's ignition, and back out the window, out of which Johnny could see where the group had gathered around a freshly dug grave. The opportunity was there, and Johnny felt like a classic fool for not taking it the first chance he'd got. But these were his friends he'd be abandoning.

These people hate me, Johnny thought. They hate me and they want me gone. I'd be doing them a favour, he decided. He took his place in the driver's seat and his fingers circled the keys. He took a final look at his friends. A part of him wished he could have said goodbye. As he watched the group of people he'd been proud to call his friends, Johnny smiled. A tear even welled in his eye, but Johnny wiped it away quickly. He turned the key, and the engine roared into life. That was when a floating head appeared on the other side of that window, scaring the life out of Johnny and making him scream like a frightened little boy.

"HEY!" The kid tapped on the window with his knuckled. "IT'S ME!" He shouted through the glass. "IT'S JIMMY!" He then realised Johnny didn't recognise him, and his smile faded away. "I'm coming in," the young man said as he disappeared from Johnny's view.

Johnny heard the RV's swing open, and slam shut behind Jimmy, who stepped into the driver's cabin, dusted himself off, and took a place in the passenger's seat beside Johnny.

Johnny stared at Jimmy confusedly. "Um," he was lost for words. "Hi," he greeted him.

"You really don't remember me?" Jimmy asked. "You don't remember saving my life?"

Now, Johnny remembered everything. He recognised the kid's face. Johnny had found Jimmy dragging himself across the battlefield after being caught in an explosion. He'd called for a Doctor and, to his amazement, a Doctor had come. "I didn't save your life," he said.

"Well, it may have been Doc Phillips who stitched me up, but you found me. You found me right after you clocked Tommy across the face," he told him excitedly as he patted Johnny on the back appreciatively. Johnny remembered Tommy too. He'd been one of The Sheriff's men, and Johnny, after comic face-to-face with him, had knocked him out with a piece of hot scrap metal. Now, Tommy was their prisoner. And Molly was especially looking forward to questioning him about The Sheriff's whereabouts. That is, if he even knew anything at all. "I'd be dead if it wasn't for you," Jimmy explained.

"Look, Jimmy, was it? I appreciate you coming here and telling me all this but I can't stay-"

Jimmy interrupted him. "Johnny. Listen to me," he urged seriously. "I don't care what you did before. I know my brother and my uncles don't care either. You're a good kid."

"NO I DAMN WELL AIN'T!" Johnny screamed at Jimmy. "I'm not a good kid." His voice had shifted to a whimper. "I've done things… I've got people killed…" His thought became of Alex. "People I cared about…" His hands tightened around the steering wheel. "I'm not gonna let anybody else die because of me. I have to get out of here," he explained to Jimmy.

"Look at those people," Jimmy told Johnny. They watched the group out the window as they gathered round Old Jack's grave, each giving words of tribute to the old man. "You have to ask yourself, would any of them be alive if it hadn't have been for you?"

"So you're saying that I should feel good because I ran away?" Johnny asked, still confused.

"No. I'm saying you should feel good because you ran away, and you came back."

Johnny smiled. He took his hands off the steering wheel, laid back and sighed. For the first time since Alex had died, Johnny felt good. "Thanks, Jimmy."

"No problem," Jimmy said modestly. "Now, lets' both go and honour my dead Dad. He didn't die so that we were free to sit in here chin-wagging all day, after all."

Johnny laughed. Somehow, the boy had managed to make him laugh at somebody's death. That was when Johnny realised that it was someone just like Jimmy that he needed in his life right now. "Hey Jimmy?" He called his new friend. "You don't have a girlfriend, do you?"

Dr George Phillips stepped into the Women's Barracks, the door creaked hauntingly as it swung open, and found his next patient wide awake and looking surprisingly healthy.

"Good morning," Phillips said cheerily as he pulled out his clipboard. He checked his watch. "Or afternoon, should I say." He scribbled notes onto his papers as he studied his patient up and down. "And how are we today?" He asked dutifully, though he meant it sincerely too.

"I'm fine," Tommy insisted from the warm and cosy bed he laid in. "You know, besides the missing teeth and the third degree burns, I'm good. Just a little groggy, is all," Tommy mocked with the same sarcastic tone he always had around the good Doctor.

After Johnny had struck him across the face with a hot piece of scrap metal, the Doctor had been forced to remove a couple of Tommy's teeth, and had to treat some serious burns. But now, although he still wore a bandage around his head, and his ears were still ringing from the explosion, Tommy was ready to leave Phillips' care.

"Well, I've done everything I can," Phillips explained. "You're free to go."

"Good," Tommy uttered as he pulled off his sheets and hopped out of bed. "I need to talk to Jerry about something." That was when Phillips finally looked up from his irrelevant papers.

"Wait," Phillips urged. This had just gotten whole lot more complicated. He put a hand on Tommy's shoulder, holding him back. "Jerry? Sheriff Winters, you mean?"

Tommy sighed exhaustedly as he rolled his eyes. "Fine. Sheriff Winters," he restated. "I don't know why he insists on us calling him that. I've always found it ridiculous," he said.

"You mean…insisted, right?" Dr Phillips was worried. "Past tense, you mean."

"What?" Phillips had confused Tommy. "What are you talking about?" Tommy looked around the Women's Barracks confusedly. The place was empty, he noticed.

"What you're saying is, as far as you're aware… The Sheriff is still…. Operating? Here?"

"I don't understand…" Tommy seemed lost. "Where is everyone?"

"Tommy," Phillips began, although he wasn't quite sure where he was going with this. "Do you remember how you hurt your head?" He asked, earning a confused stare from Tommy.

"Yeah, I…" But Tommy struggled to think and remember. "I don't know, I guess I must've… I must've hit it on..." And that's when Tommy realised, he didn't remember anything. "Shit. I don't know," he paused, then looked at Phillips fearfully. "Doc, what happened to me."

"Things have changed, Tommy," the Doctor explained. "I think you better sit down."

They all stood around Old Jack's freshly dug grave, where Sara had kindly built a short and stout wooden cross out of loose planks of wood, tying them together with her hair tie. With Old Jack's cousin and son still recovering from the wounds they'd suffered during the battle and being treated by Dr Phillips in the Men's Barracks, it was up to Harold to say some words as the group said goodbye to a man they'd hardly known, but had done so much in so little time. Harold's heartfelt speech was just coming to a close.

"He was my cousin," Harold said mournfully. "He was family. And I know that, wherever I go, whatever I do, I'll never forget the sacrifices he made for me – for all of us."

"Hear, hear!" A voice boomed from behind the gathered crowd. Looking past the faces of the people who had come to mourn Old Jack, Harold spotted his brother, Dick, who approached the crowd, his hand over Michael shoulder. "That was a helluva speech, cuz." He joined the crowd, still supporting Michael, who hobbled and limped by his side.

"Dick," Harold said with utter disbelief. "Michael." He hadn't expected to see them both back on their feet so soon. He remembered his manners. "Would either of you like to say something?" Harold ask as he stepped aside from Old Jack's grave.

Dick stepped up to Old Jack's grave, patting his brother on the back as he passed him. Even when he stood there, looking down at his cousin's grave, he still struggled to believe that Old Jack was actually gone, and wasn't coming back.

"Michael!" Dick called Michael to his side, to everyone's surprise. Michael hobbled over to Dick. "Why don't you tell everyone what your old man said before he died?" But Michal shook his head nervously. Dick patted him on the back encouragingly. "C'mon," he urged. Then, he leaned closer to Michael. "They need to hear this," he whispered to him.

Nervous beyond belief, Michael took a deep breath. "My Dad…" Michael's eyes watered. "I was there when he died," he explained, slowly pulling himself together. "I still can't believe he's gone. I guess I… I guess I thought he was indestructible, like all sons do." A long pause followed, and Michael spotted his son, Danny, in the crowd. He looked ready to burst into tears. "But, if the last six months have taught us anything it's that…" Michael turned deadly serious, and Dick felt a chill in the air. "Nobody's indestructible."

"Before he died," Michael went on, "my Dad told me that nothing is more important and worth protecting than family. And that you were all family now," he explained as his eyes roamed through the crowd, studying the faces of the people who had come to celebrate the life of his father, and mourn his loss. These people were scared, Michael hardly had to look at them to tell that much. His father was right. "From what I can tell, you people lost a leader yesterday," he said, referring to Lilly, who had abandoned the group to join The Sheriff. Michael still damned them, wherever they were now.

"So, what you're saying is you're here to fill her boots?" Molly asked presumptuously. "Because, in case you hadn't noticed, things haven't exactly been going so well as of late."

"That's not what I'm saying," Michael assured her. "If anything, I think having one person lead a group of at least a dozen people was a mistake to begin with," he explained. "No, what I'm talking about is a democracy. The kind of thing people voted for before corpses started walking. This is what we need," Michael assured the group.

"You really think this is our best course? This is how we survive?" Christa asked uncertainly.

"Haven't you been listening to a word I've said? I'm talking about getting one step closer to the way things used to be. We can be at peace again. We can raise our children again." He caught eyes with his son, and smiled at the boy. "We can love our families again." He saw Omid and Christa holding hands with Clementine between them like the loving family they had become. He stood proudly. "We can finally stop surviving, and start living."

Next time on The Walking Dead: Johnny must face the consequences of his actions. Meanwhile, now the leader of the survivors, Michael's first task is to question Tommy, The Sheriff's right hand man, and turn Robins Air Force Base from a place they can survive to a place they can live.

Sorry this update took me so long! This Episode might be the most difficult so far, and a few more reviews would have been nice too, but I still appreciate all you guys taking the time to read my story. So I hope the wait was worth it! In the meantime, I would really appreciate if you guys could REVIEW this chapter, or simply the story so far overall, as I know I've yet to hear feedback from some of you. Either way, if there's anything you want to share, feel free to below, and FOLLOW/FAVORITE if you haven't already.

Thanks for reading!

-George