She was still too stunned to speak. The man was silhouetted in the mid-afternoon sunlight and said nothing else. Neither person moved yet and gradually, Andrea began piecing together everything in her mind that just happened. Many times, shocking events require that.

Wildly, she looked down and saw Merle's body. He lied on his side facing her as the ever-growing pool of blood almost touched her feet. Almost out of morbid curiosity, she considered touching it with her big toe but held back. She looked over at her trusted friend. Michonne stirred but stayed unconscious. And then, Andrea looked up at the stranger who still hadn't said anything more.

He turned and looked out the door, first to the right, then to the left, and back to the right. Convinced no walkers or other humans were around, he turned back around and holstered his pistol. When that was completed, he took a deep breath and slowly walked towards Andrea.

Instantly, Andrea's defenses went up. Although her feet were free, her hands were still tied behind her. She struggled against them as she looked up at him with terrified eyes. The man came to a stop, hands going up in meek surrender.

"He…" the man slowly began, "he said that he tied you up. That can't have been for a good reason."

Andrea said nothing.

"I'm going…" he began again, "I'm going to untie you, OK?"

Andrea looked at him warily. He sighed.

"I swear," he gently said, "that's all I'm going to do." He took a step forward. "OK?" He took another step forward. And then another. Andrea refused to take her petrified eyes off him. This stranger, this…killer was going to be behind her! And she couldn't see his face!

A few more steps placed him just a few feet from her right. She watched him like a hunter the whole time. She could even feel his fingers working against the ropes for a while.

"That…guy," he casually said, "knew what he was doing when it came to knots." And then, he stopped and cleared his throat. "I'm going to have to cut them, OK?"

Andrea coldly stared at him. So, he sighed again. Silently, he unsheathed his filet knife and sawed the ropes apart. Instant relief smashed Andrea's senses and she rolled her shoulders as her hands found their way to the chair's sides. Suddenly, Andrea stood up only to immediately fall. Angrily, she punched the floor.

"If you haven't," the man began with infuriating calamity, "used your arms and legs in a while, it might take a while-"

"I know that." Andrea snapped. The man went silent. Instead, he turned towards Michonne and started heading towards her.

"Get away from her!" Andrea screamed.

He came to a full stop and turned back towards Andrea. "Not so loud! You want more walkers to hear?"

A slow panic began to set in. She was unable to protect either herself or Michonne and this man continued to be so peaceful and understanding and patient and…everything. So, she did the next best thing – she crawled towards Michonne. When she reached her, Andrea checked Michonne over, making sure she was still alive and otherwise, OK. After a moment, a sigh of relief escaped Andrea's lips.

"My name is John.", he simply said.

Andrea said nothing, fixing a stray piece of cloth on Michonne's shirt. Just as she finished needlessly attending to her, Andrea noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A shadow or…

"Here." John said.

She turned and looked up. Michonne's katana was being extended towards her. She looked at him and then back at the sword, snatching it out of John's hands.

"Thanks." Andrea muttered, not even looking back up at him.

Silently, he turned and walked towards the doorway. Andrea's legs and arms were slowly recovering and she found she could sit Asian-style on her legs. Andrea moved a dreadlock from Michonne's eyes and had a water bottle on the ready. After that was completed, she looked up at this strange man, now visible from a perpendicular point-of-view.

He was tall and lean – so lean, in fact, that he might've missed a whole day's worth of food in the past. John had messy brown hair and green eyes, along with a kind disposition. He reminded her of a salesman of some kind from before. From before… She squinted her eyes a little as he continued to be a mystery, standing there in the sunlight. He simply looked out towards the open expanse of grassy fields, probably sensing he was being watched, observed. He didn't object or try to stop her.

The former civil rights attorney saw that he carried a pistol, a filet knife and no other visible weapons. His ratty and holed blue jeans were badly faded from the Georgia sunshine and he needed a shave.

"We have about…" John looked towards the sky and then back to her, "five hours of good sunlight left. We should try to find some food and wood for a campfire."

Andrea stared at him like she didn't know him. "I don't know you. Why would I-?"

"Because in case you haven't noticed," John replied, just a bit impatiently, "your friend is still knocked out and your shoes are missing."

Astonished, Andrea looked down at her barefeet and then around the room. True to his word, her shoes were gone.

"Did you take them?" Andrea accusingly asked.

John sighed. "No." And then, he straightened out his shirt and tugged his weapons belt. "I'm off to hunt. I'll be back."

John left. Andrea felt like she could breathe better as she checked Michonne over again. It dawned on her that Michonne had been unconscious for quite some time and a deep worry began to settle in her. She couldn't stand seeing her fierce friend in this state but was powerless to do anything about it. And then, there was the arrival of this mysterious John guy.

Trust was such a hard commodity in this new world.

So far, John gave her no reason not to at least accept him on friendly terms. Of course, so had Merle. And yet, both men, in their own way, had tried to gain trust. Merle refused to acknowledge his self-worth while John may have projected too much. She shook her head. Even she couldn't make much sense of that.

An hour passed. Maybe a little bit more. Andrea, now fully recovered, looked and walked between Michonne and the open doorway. She'd scan the grassy knolls for John and then back to her. Then, she'd walk over to Michonne and wipe her sweaty brow, glancing from time to time at the doorway.

She was nervous. She was anxious. She was annoyed. She was…scared.

Finally, Michonne awoke. At first, all she did was wobble her head from right to left and back again. Andrea was by her side in a flash, trying to tell her not to talk yet. Of course Michonne didn't listen.

"Wha-?" She began until a weak coughing fit hit her. Andrea presented a water bottle to her, but Michonne's arms were tied to her back. Clumsily, Andrea cut the binds and Michonne pulled her arms to her lap. Motor skills impaired, Michonne looked to her for help and Andrea complied. She carefully held the water bottle to Michonne's full lips as their eyes met in the late afternoon sun. Andrea held the bottle with one hand and a cloth in the other, to catch any spilled water.

It was a good thing she did that. Michonne took two gulps of the water before tiny droplets fell on her chin. Softly, slowly, Andrea wiped them away as she leaned closer to Michonne's lips. Their eyes locked as Andrea took care of her friend. After a couple of minutes, and more water consumed, Michonne was finally able to speak, just as Andrea cut the binds to her friend's feet.

"What…?" Michonne started. Her brows narrowed in confusion.

"Merle drugged us."

She looked over at Andrea with a mixed expression of anger and disgust. But otherwise, she said and did nothing else.

"But it's over now." Andrea calmly said. "He's gone now."

"Where?" Michonne asked.

"I killed him."

The girls whirled around and saw John walk in. He had a weathered leather satchel over his shoulder that he dumped on Andrea's chair as he crossed the room. As best she could, Michonne went into defensive mode – she was handed her sword by Andrea and unsheathed it. Michonne started to get up and John watched her. Fiercely glaring, Michonne blinked a couple of times, came to a stop, and crashed back down. Andrea tried her best to ease her fall but simply wasn't there in time.

John watched Andrea soothe her, but Michonne's eyes were glued to him. He was impressed with the warrior's intense, protective nature. Andrea ignored him, tending to her friend.

"Don't push yourself," John said to no one in particular. "It's really hot today."

Michonne narrowed her eyes at him. As expected, there was something about this guy that sent alarm bells exploding in her head. Andrea stood up and spoke.

"Just what do you-?"

"Rabbits." John said, "And a squirrel or two. I thought about fish, but the creek was too far away." Andrea stared at him in wonder. "That's what I have in my satchel, if that's what you were going to ask."

"It wasn't." Andrea coldly said.

John sighed. "Alright." He took up residence in Andrea's old chair. "What's on your mind, Andrea?"

She showed surprise…and disgust. "You know my name."

"Well," John placed his right foot over his left knee. "Yeah. I heard that guy say your name."

Andrea huffed. "Is that all you heard?"

"No."

"What else? Who are you? Why are you-?"

"I promise," John said, placing a hand over his heart. "to tell you as much as I can. Or want. But," he leaned down towards his satchel, "I'm hungry. And I'll bet you are too."

The girls said nothing. John huffed.

"Well, we need a campfire to cook this." John simply said. "I'll get that started."

Probably much too quickly, John got up and practically ran out of the room. Tension could've been cut with a chainsaw as Andrea and Michonne just looked at each other. Sans John, Andrea felt more comfortable to discuss this situation with Michonne.

"What happened?" Michonne quietly asked.

"Merle had me tied up." Andrea began. "He told me something really bad."

"What?"

Andrea sat Indian style beside her. She took a swig of water and offered some to Michonne. She declined the offer, urging Andrea to continue.

"He said… He said that there's someone after us." Michonne's eyes widened. "Well, after me, but you too."

Michonne began shaking with anger. She protectively watched Andrea go on with the story.

"Anyway," Andrea began. She paused to look at the doorway to see if John had returned. When she didn't see him, she continued. "Merle said there's a town of survivors nearby. It's called Woodbury. He told them about us, Michonne. Why he did that I don't clearly know."

Andrea paused. She glanced at the doorway and back again. Michonne's eyes never left Andrea's.

"He made it sound like this guy who runs the place…" Andrea shivered. "He's a dictator or somethin'." And then, her face soured. "Calls himself the Governor."

Michonne looked perplexed. "Why did he drug us just to tell-?"

"I don't knooooow!" Andrea began, a little whine to her voice. "He just did. Seems like he thinks people won't listen to him unless he forces them to or something…"

Michonne looked away, mulling Andrea's words over and over. There were simply too many questions and not nearly enough answers. But one thing was clear to her – Andrea was in danger. And she'd be good and goddamned if anyone would hurt her.

Andrea leaned back, studying Michonne. She watched Michonne's eyebrows, seemingly locked in knitted confusion. She hated seeing this. All too often, Michonne appeared…angry. Too fierce. Too…guarded. But now, with good reason.

Some time passed and soon, the familiar smell of burning wood filled their nostrils.

A campfire. And a strong one at that. Fully recovered, Andrea and Michonne walked out of the shed together. Michonne was just slightly ahead of her, hand on Her Girl just in case.

John stood near the campfire tending to the wood. He kicked some of the wood with his steel-toed boots. Andrea watched him. His face was scrunched with determination, his focus solely on the fire. Michonne didn't move, but Andrea took a full step towards him. And when she did, she felt a firm hand on her left arm. She turned around and met Michonne's fierce scowl.

"I'll be careful." Andrea whispered. Michonne didn't respond.

Andrea turned back around and took several careful steps until she was on the other side of the campfire.

"Talk." Andrea ordered, arms crossed defensively.

John huffed. "You like to get right to the point, don't you?"

Andrea was silent.

"Alright." John said, uselessly kicking a piece of nearly burnt wood towards the fire, a delaying tactic that proved to be way too short. "My name is John."

She looked at him expectantly. "I…escaped Woodbury."

"You did?" Andrea asked, surprised at her own question.

"Yeah…" John answered, eyes glued to the hypnotic fire. "That guy, whoever he was, was right about that place. It's run by the Governor." He spit on the fire. "I hate him."

"Why?" Andrea asked, putting her previous attorney training to good use.

John looked over at her. "He's…awful."

When John said nothing else, Andrea asked, "How so?"

John sighed and reached into his satchel. He pulled out a rabbit and two squirrels. He sat down Indian style and began the laborious task of filleting the marsupials.

Once he decapitated the rabbit, he continued. "He comes across so nice. So pleasant." He darkly chuckled. "He even compliments you when you do a good job."

"And that's wrong?" she asked. Michonne now approached her, the quiet, shadowy, Secret Service agent.

But John fixed a determined stare and turned towards her. "It is when you realize it's false."

Andrea kept her eyes on him but said nothing. He expected her to say something and watched her until he realized she wasn't going to say anything. So, he continued speaking.

"He's like Emperor Palpatine."

"Who?" Andrea asked.

John shook his head. "Never mind. Anyway, he's all smiles and jokes and just a good ol' Southern boy…until you piss him off. And then…"

"Then?" Andrea prompted.

"Well, let's just say…" John hesitated and then added. "He knows how to put you in pain. I'm pretty reliable with my hunting skills, as," John held up his trophies, "you can tell. I brought him fresh kill nearly every day for a month. But one day, I couldn't bring anything back for him. I got surrounded by about seven or eight of those motherfuckers and I had to fight and run. I barely made it back alive."

He set the rabbit corpse down, finished with that task, and started on one of the squirrels. "He…took away my food rations for two days."

The girls' eyes widened in horrified surprise.

"And that's," John quietly added, "just the beginning." He cleared his throat, very clearly uncomfortable with what he was going to add. "Sometimes, I'd see pretty girls walk into his quarters, head held high, excited that the Governor called for them specifically." He turned away and added, "Fifteen minutes later, they'd come running out, crying and some of their clothes torn."

Michonne's eyes widened even further. But Andrea narrowed her eyes.

"How do I know," Andrea quizzed, "that you're telling the truth?"

John got angry. "Well, why don't you go and find out?! Yeah! Go ahead, Andrea. Prove me wrong!" And then, he got up and took an angry step towards her as Michonne flanked them. "That guy said he wants you." Then, he leaned forward, his face just inches from her. "He'll hunt you down for as long as it takes. Then, he'll be all smiles and reassurances and gloat about the utopia that is Woodbury. And then he'll take you to his room and you'll be stuck there. You may not be allowed to wear any clothes." John got more and more intense. "You'll probably be tied down to the bed from what I heard. Yeah, yeah…"

John took a step back, but kept his eyes on her. "Yeah, he'll fuck you good and hard and you won't have a choice." Then, his eyes drifted over to Michonne. "With chicks who are fighters, he likes to blind them." The girls' mouths opened in complete horror. They shuddered. He looked back at Andrea. "Don't know why either. I think he likes to tease them when they can't go anywhere. They'd still try to fight him off but can't see him. It's all a fucking game to him." He paused and then looked over at Michonne. "He likes round booties too. I think you would be just his type too, when he's in that kind of mood." And then, he darkly chuckled. "Better keep an eye out for him!"

"Stop!" Andrea screamed. "Stop John!"

Silence. Crackling firewood and nameless insects were both the only sound in the vicinity. John was on a roll and the girls couldn't take it anymore. Who could?

John retreated another step, dangerously close to the fire. And then, eyes still on Andrea, took one more step until he hovered his leg over the fire.

"One time," John quietly said, "he held someone over a fire like this. It was…his method of interrogation. The guy was accused of trying to leave Woodbury." John put his leg down and took a step away from the fire and the girls. He inhaled, held it, and shakily let it out. Finally, he returned his gaze to the suddenly jarred women.

"He controlled," John softly continued, "this rope on a double pulley." John even demonstrated the Governor's actions, "See? Like this? And then," John dropped his arms, "when he didn't get the answer he wanted, he'd relax his grip on the rope." Suddenly, John's eyes brightened.

"Oh! There's something I forgot to tell you about that. You see," John hesitated, and then added, "the guy's completely naked. And his whole body is angled back, like he's trying to do a backwards handstand. That meant that his…"

He stopped. Baffled, the women silently stared in shock at this stranger, telling a terrible, terrible story.

"That meant his…dick was getting closer and closer to the fire!"

John was panting. The girls were shocked. The sun decided it was time to set.

"And," John whispered. "that's only half of the story…"

.

It was very clear, as the night wore on and all three enjoyed meat for the first time in weeks, that everyone had a lot on their minds. Andrea stared into the fire, her elbows resting on her knees. Michonne casually wiped her sword with a cloth but that faraway look was in her eyes…and, of course, John was carefully watched in her peripheral vision. And John was picking at some dirt on his boots, but his gaze was locked on the campfire.

"I", John whispered, shaking the women out of their reverie, "can't go back there…"

"Because you'll be…tor-tortured?" Andrea softly asked. She too was staring into the hypnotizing fire for a long moment. And then she turned to look at him and was astonished to see one single tear on his face.

"Because…" John oh so softly began. He cleared his throat and looked directly at her. "Because he killed my wife and son."

.