It took time to bring myself to face Rick, the man who could be traced back to the very first days at the prison. The man who was ready to shoot me in the face, the man who was more than ready to send me on my way, even after I risked my life to save two of his own. But eventually, with Daryl always at my side, I found it in myself to face him.

Summer was fast approaching as I slowly made my way out of the prison. The yard had since been cleared, thanks to Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Michonne and at times, Rick. Rick was still in and out of it, often times mumbling to an unseen force. For once, I knew where he was coming from. I often heard Merle talking to my dead daughter as if she stood right in front of him.

It had been a mutual decision to allow Merle to stay, under the condition that he was to never leave his cell alone. None of us argued with that, which was a relief, since none of us had much fight left in us. Michonne had willingly taken the responsibility of the broken man, without any kind of argument, which surprised us all. For me, it was a great relief, because I often found myself slowly slipping if Daryl wasn't close by. It wasn't a clingy sense, more of a lifeline. If Daryl was within reach, I was fine, I could function without breaking down, but if he was on a run or out on the fence, I found myself grieving in ways that were far from healthy.

Daryl followed behind me as I walked the fence, my fingers sometimes reaching for those of the dead, only for Daryl to gently pull me away. I knew he knew it was out of habit. Sometimes, just sometimes, I needed to be reminded of the world we now lived in. Blade trotted at my side, his long fur matted in countless places. When was the last time I'd brushed out the mats? Or better, when was the last time I even bothered to wash the blood from his coat? Days? Weeks? A month maybe? It'd been a long time.

Daryl was patient. He was always patient with me these days. He knew each day was bringing me closer to admitting the truth to myself. As we walked, I felt his stance change as we neared the little patch of grass. The resting place of those we'd lost. Glenn and Michonne had retrieved Alana's body later the week she had died. She was laid to rest next to Carol and Lori and T-Dog and all the others who had died since the group had joined the prison. A little cross with a pink ribbon tied around it was all I had to tell the difference between her spot and the others.

I knelt beside in, my hands tracing the wooden cross, my heart breaking into a million pieces as I remembered the little girl, so full of life and innocence, ripped from this world all too soon. I wanted to scream. I wanted to take all my anger and frustration out on someone, anyone. But I didn't. I let the tears fall, as I had so many times before, my hands gripping at nothingness. At the empty air in front of me.

Alana was dead. I had to come to terms with that before I'd ever really heal. But how does someone come to terms with the death of a child? An innocent, precious child.

Maybe, if Carol had been alive, she'd have been able to help me through it. Maybe, just maybe, she could have gotten through to me. But she too, was dead, like so many others. I wanted to say I grieved for her, but I didn't. Her death had no impact on me. Carol would always be the cruel, heartless woman in my mind, because that was all I knew. All I knew was Carol the bitch, I didn't know Carol, the kindhearted, loving woman the others spoke so fondly of. And it was sad, because maybe she really was a good person, under all that hate and despair. I'd never know.

After I finally stopped crying, I stood up slowly, my pace quickening as I saw Rick leave the prison, heading towards the fence with Glenn. I hurried over, Daryl at my heels, though he remained silent. I honestly think deep down, he wanted me to clear the air with Rick sooner, rather than later. He was in luck. That day was the day I decided to let the past stay in the past, once and for all.

At the same time as I reached Rick, Michonne came running out of the prison, her eyes wide. I turned to see what had caught her attention, but it was too late. The bullet came out of nowhere.

"Rick!" I cried out, throwing myself at the man. He looked startled when he heard his name, but by some stupid act of God or fate or whatever, I managed to tackle him to the ground before the bullet could hit him. He tried to throw me off him, unaware of the danger he had just been in, but thankfully, Michonne and Daryl were fast enough to spot the attacker.

"Woodbury!" Michonne shouted, pulling me to my feet. Rick clambered to his own, his eyes wide.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice husky and tired.

"Positive," she nodded.

"Blade, tunnel, now," I called to the dog. He immediately ran for the weakest part of the fence, where we had rigged a doggie door, in a sense, for him to be able to squeeze under in the event something happened. The dog took off like a bullet, growling loudly, his fur flying in every which way. Daryl tossed me his gun while he loaded his crossbow, his fingers twitching with anticipation. We'd been expecting an attack for weeks now.

The prison was soon alive with people trying to find the best point defense. Daryl and I backed behind the overturned bus, our chosen spot from day one. A little ways away stood Michonne, her stance guarded, her katana in her hands. The plan had been put into action for the first time since we discussed it a few weeks prior. Rick was posted near the farthest watch tower, the only one that still stood. Glenn was shielded by the Hyundai, while Maggie was inside with her father, sister, Carl and Judith.

Then it hit me. We were one man short. We needed Merle's strategy now more than ever.

"I'll be back," I hissed to Daryl.

"No," he mouthed, shaking his head. "No."

"We need Merle out here," I argued in a hushed tone. Bullets began to rain down on us. "He knows how the Governor thinks."

"You can't risk it!" he said softly, his tone urgent and strained.

"I have to."

I took off, darting between cars, using anything and everything as a shield. How I reached the prison in one piece was beyond me. The sound of a bomb going off was enough to tell me that we were in some deep shit. I hurried through the hallways, the key tightly gripped in my hand. I skidded to a stop in front of Merle's cell. He was looking at me with fearful eyes.

"Merle, we need you," I whispered, my hands shaking as I fought to open the cell. Merle put his good hand on top of mine, steadying my shaking fingers enough to unlock the cell. Then we took off. Merle stayed close as I once more led the way through the halls, out into the field. Then I saw it. The huge, army style truck.

"Walkers!" I shouted, ducking to avoid a stray bullet. "He's going to unload a truck load of walkers!"

Merle and I reached Daryl just as another bomb went off, this time, dangerously close to the bus.

"We have to move!" I panted, my lungs burning from running. "We have to regroup and come up with a new plan!"

"We can't!" Daryl practically screamed over the sound of the bullets pouring down on us. I had to jump back to avoid a well-placed bullet that would have otherwise taken off my head. I pressed tightly against the old bus, taking a deep breath to calm the racing of my heart.

"It's now or never, baby brother," Merle said grimly. I tossed him Daryl's cut while I loaded my bow, which I had retrieved when I went back for Merle. I used the tire of the bus for leverage as I took aim, my arrow whizzing through the air. I didn't wait to see if it made contact, instead, I loaded another arrow letting it loose, before tossing the bow aside. I removed my Colt from my boot, checked to make sure it was loaded, then stepped out from behind the bus, all concern for safety discarded. I used the walkers as body shields as I slowly made my way over to Rick, who was doubled over, breathing hard.

"You still with us Rick?" I called as I approached. He looked up, his eyes wild with fear, adrenaline and general concern. He nodded. I picked up my pace, weaving between the walkers, my heart pounding in my chest. I knelt beside Rick, fending off the few walkers who had taken notice to where we were hidden.

"We need a plan," he wheezed. Then I saw it. The bullet wound. He hand his hand pressed firmly against his shoulder. I blinked, shocked that the leader of the prison, our leader, was injured.

"Hang in there Rick," I said softly before standing, my gun level with the trees. I let loose a line of bullets before ducking down again, the bullets raining down around us.

"They're running!" Glenn's excited cry rang out.

Don't get too excited, I thought. Then I heard it. A cry that would chill me to the bone until the day I died.

It could have happened in slow motion for all I cared. For a single moment, there was silence, and then there wasn't. The loudest explosion I had ever witnessed rippled across the prison yard, followed by a pained cry from the one person I had been hoping to protect.

My instincts kicked in before I could stop myself. I protectively blocked Rick from the shards of debris that flew in our direction, but not before catching sight of Daryl being thrown against the bus, his face immediately going pale.

"Daryl!" I screamed over the ringing in my ears. My heart sank to the floor as I looked at the man, panic rising in my chest. "Daryl!"

A/n - To clarify where in the series this chapter takes place, I'll say it's right before the Governor kills all his own people. Like I said before, I was very loosely following the actual story line.

Ooooh, cliff hanger!