A/N: Hello everyone! I have bad news :'( I go back to school on Tuesday. That means I need to focus on all my senior year work, such as: senior project for my shop, looking at and applying to colleges, getting my license, not dying, and going to prom.

Jeebus help my soul. So, fanfiction is (sadly,) going to be in the back of my mind. I have one more chapter planned out to post, but my updates are going to be slow (as if I'm not slow enough.) I'm sorry! I'll try to regularly update, but that's probably not going to happen. But, in lighter news, this chapter and the next one are the mid season finale of season 5! I'm super excited to write about Alexandria. I have a lot of stuff planned for that.

Come night time, the rest of us that remain are lying on the ground, attempting to get some shut-eye. Sasha gets the couch in Father Gabriel's office, the last place Bob was ever at. We're all keeping a close eye on her. Since his passing this morning, she's become reclusive and violent. We expected her outbursts, though. She deserves a few.

I lie on the cold ground beside the alter, the candlelight dancing in a light breeze. My knife is held tightly against my chest as I survey the room. Rick is sitting at a pew, feeding Judith from a bottle. Mom went outside earlier on watch; Gabriel followed suit. The rest of us are scattered on the ground trying to get at least a few hours of sleep. Small, quiet chatter fills the silence, along with some clanging of a spoon against cans and jars. I shut my eyelids tight, as if the action would help me. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight.

I hear the sound of a body plopping to the floor close beside me. I open my eyes, but the body is behind. The person's hands slowly move to hold me tightly as it goes around my waist. Carl.

I feel his body press against my back, and I lean into him. My hand reaches for his at my hip, entwining our fingers together.

"You need to sleep." He whispers in my ear. I gently push my head back to tuck comfortably beneath his chin before answering.

"Tell me something I don't know." I reply, closing my eyes once more.

"You can put your knife down." He says. My grip on it tightens.

"I feel safer with it," is all I say.

"I'm not saying you don't need it." He tells me, his tone understanding and soothing. His hand leaves mine from my hip and it goes to the hilt of my knife, holding it along with the other hand. "But you don't need to hold it like this. If you put it in the sheath, you'll still be fine. I promise."

At his words, I look down to the blade and contemplate them. I take a deep breath, but slowly put it to my side. I slide the knife in the sheath and bring my hand back to his.

"Better?" I ask. I feel him nod his head.

"Better." He agrees. We sit together in silence, just like the rest of our group. My eyes look up to the candlelight, watching the flickers of light create shadows against the walls. With surprise, I realize my eyelids are getting heavier. My breathing slows down, and my grip on Carls' hand loosens. His, however, still holds mine tight.

"Do you ever think what would've happened if you didn't stop at the prison?" He asks out of the blue. His voice is raspy, with the promise of sleep seeping through each word.

I twist through his grip on my waist to be face to face with him. My hand goes to his face, gently pushing back long, dark strands of hair out of his face. "No," I answer. "But life would be a hell of a lot more boring." I drop my arm to his waist, pulling myself closer to him.

He gives a light chuckle. I can feel his breath hot on my face. "Well, think about it. The baby food, the Governor, Glenn and Maggie at Woodbury."

I give a small nod to him. "Yeah, I remember. And at the gates mom passed out and you and Rick saved us."

He hums in response. "It feels so long since then."

"Like a lifetime." I agree.

"Ah, how long ago was it?"

I rack my brain to remember. "Around a year? Maybe more? I don't know, I don't have a pocket calendar."

"Dude, does that mean we have a one year anniversary?"

I giggle at the thought. "Well, I'm sorry to be the worlds worst girlfriend, but I didn't buy you a present."

"Oh, that's a deal breaker."

"Really?"

"Really really."

"Damn then. Did you get me anything?"

"That's besides the point."

I laugh at him and playfully smack his side. "If I'm the Worlds Worst Girlfriend, then that makes you the Worlds Worst Boyfriend, too!"

At my words, he gives me a playful smack to the side back. "That's not how this works!"

"Sure it is!" I laugh again. As our fake fight dies down, I grin to him. My lips go up to his, giving him a lazy, sleepy kiss. "Happy one year."

He gives me one back, much stronger than the one I gave him. Through his kiss, he whispers to me, "Happy one year."

As his lips slowly leave mine, I tuck my head beneath his chin. My arms go around his form, holding him tightly as if he were a giant teddy bear. He does the same to me. With the sounds of his steady heartbeats under my ear, I slowly drift off to sleep.

That is, until I hear the door to the church open abruptly and loudly. I groan at the sound, but turn to see four people standing in the doorway. Mom, Gabriel, Daryl, and another adult, most likely in his younger twenties, limping alongside the other three members. He has dark, chocolate covered skin, and deep brown eyes, along with short, curly hair on top of his head.

The sight of the newcomer brings many of us to sit up, including both Carl and I. My hand automatically goes to grab my knife, but stops short as mom tells all of us five important, plan-altering words.

"We know where Beth is."

The rest of the night was spent with Noah, the newcomer, telling us everything he knew about Grady Memorial Hospital, the building where Beth is being held. How the group works, the leader of it (an old cop name Dawn,) and what the facility looks like. He gives us a lot of information, and we begin to form a plan for the morning.

I'm excited about the prospect of having Beth back. After the fall of the prison, I just thought she was dead. I thought everyone was dead. The thought of her coming back, rejoining our group? One of my closest friends? It's like a dream come true.

The second we see light through the windows, we set to work. We're going to make this church a fortress.

The boys start to take apart the old organ from the small stage of the church, and they bring it to the front of the steps. On each side, a row of them protrude from the dirt, pointing out for protection against the walkers. Sasha is currently inside, breaking apart some pews from the back of the church to board up the many windows. It's a good way for her to use up her energy while also being helpful to the group. The rest of us take those pieces of wood and pound some nails into it. Funny thing is, none of us actually have hammers. Instead, we use the strong ends of the pews, the curved edges, to pound the nails into the pieces of wood.

At the moment, I'm holding wood steadily against the glass of a window while Carl is setting a nail into it. Mom and Rick are doing the same to a few sets of windows on our left. Noah's been helping out with the windows as well.

When Rick deems the church guarded enough, we all head inside so those leaving for Project: Beth could get their weapons and extra ammo. Rick also leaves us instructions for when they leave.

"The second our truck is out of view, board up the doors." He tells us while holding Judith. By us, I mean me, mom, Carl, and Gabriel. We're to say behind and hold down the fort and watch over Judith until they return. "When we come back, you can break it down and we'll all head out."

"Head out where?" Mom asks. This is the first time any of us has heard of the plan to move out.

He gives her a sly grin. "I hear DC is popular these days."

I give a chuckle at the words. As he looks around for the rest of our approval, he receives nods and smiles.

"Okay, but firsts things first." He kisses the top of Judith's head before handing her over to mom, whom she takes happily. "We bring back Beth."

He goes over to Carl and they strongly hold each other. He tells his son, "We'll be back soon," before he lets go.

"I know." Carl says, nodding.

Rick turns to me and without even thinking about it, I give him a hug too. He returns the gesture happily. "Good luck." I say. He nods in response. Then he turns and the rest of our group follow him out the door. Carl and close each large door and he grabs a large piece of wood from our pile and we begin to hammer it down.

The second Rick is out of her view, Judith starts to wail in moms arms. Mom tries to gently rock her, humming softly to soothe her, and even seeing if she needs to be changed. Nothing. It's like she can sense that there's something off. The fact that she's crying gives me an off-feeling as well.

By the time we're done with our last reinforcement, she's finally asleep and the rest of us get a chance to sit down on a pew, besides Gabriel. I didn't notice before, but he's on the ground, furiously rubbing at the blood stains with a wet rag. And I'm pissed by the action. What a waste of water. But still, he continues his actions with an angry zeal.

I lock eyes with Carl, who sits beside me on the pew, and point to my head, moving my index finger in circles to make the, "crazy," motion with an annoyed expression. He shakes his head at my actions, and I raise an eyebrow with confusion. He mouths to me, "scared."

Carl leaves my side to go to the front of the church, grabbing something I can't see before making his way back to the rest of us. Once he's in view, I see it's the gray pack of handheld weapons, filled to the max with sharp tools and blunt instruments.

He drops the pack on front of Gabriel and opens it up. All of the weapons are put on display for the Father to see. Carl even grabs a couple guns and sets them beside the open pack. Gabriel doesn't stop his attempts to clean the blood as Carl points to them.

"Pick one." He says simply. There's no change in Father Gabtiel. "You need to learn how to defend yourself." He says it easily, calmly. I sit in my seat with my arms crossed and watch Gabriel's reaction, which is very underwhelming.

"We can teach you." Carl adds. This is when Gabriel finally ceases his rubbing and looks up to the other teen.

"Defend myself?" Gabriel has the worst expression on his face; disgust, regret, a profound feeling of worthlessness all wrapped up in one grimace. "They said they'd go."

"They were liars and murderers." Carl argued.

"Just like us."

"We protected ourselves. They wanted us dead." He takes a breath, giving his words a chance to sink in for Gabriel. "You're lucky your church has lasted this long. You can't stay in one place anymore. Not for too long."

I nod at the words. From across the room, I see mom holding a sleeping Judith in her arms, frowning at my gesture. I give a small shrug; it's the truth now, whether she agrees or not.

"And once you're out there," Carl continues, "you're gonna find trouble you can't hide from. You need to know how to fight."

With an audible gulp, Gabriel looks down to the choices laid out. He reaches, with a shaky hand, to the large machete towards the end of the pack. Good choice.

Carl voices the bought aloud. "But, you're not holding it right. You gotta be able to drive it down 'cause sometimes the skulls aren't as soft and you need to be able-"

Gabriel sets his hands down on the ground, his face contorted as if he were about to puke. He probably is.

"-I... I'm sorry." He waves his hand to Carl as a s ilent gesture to shut up, and he hangs his head low to stop whatever onslaught of vomit that's probably heading up to his throat.

"No." He says quietly, standing up from his spot. "I need to lie down." Carl, though dejected, gives a nod to the priest as he walks to his office. I roll my eyes at the apparent end to his Apocalypse 101 training.

"He's not trying to scare you." I say. Gabriel's head twists in my direction. His face looks like he's in pain. "He's trying to warn you. Out there, it's you or them. You can't hide from the dead. You'll just become one of them." My approach is on the, "trying-to-scare-you," side, but he needs to know. He needs to be warned. Without that machete he's holding in his hand, people I know and care immensely about would be dead right now.

His face, still looking as if he's in pain, gives a shaky nod and he walks faster to his office, eager to get away from us. I roll my eyes at his babyish nature. And to think, once upon a time I was like that. It disgusts me.

The room is silent once again as Father Gabriel shuts his squeaky door. I bring my knees up to my chest and I hold them tightly against me with my arms. Carl sits down beside me again, dejected.

"He's gonna die if he doesn't learn." He tells me. His hand lightly grabs one of my knees, holding it lazily. I look to the weapons, still laid out on the floor.

I nod grimly. "He's gonna die."

"Step one, you say, we need to talk
He walks, you say, "Sit down, it's just a talk"
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through."

My voice echoes through the quiet church as I sing to Judith. She awoke a while ago and I'm trying to get her back to bed. Still, her big blue eyes- which she most definitely gets from her father- stare right up at me, entranced. Her blonde wisps of hair are messy and askew atop her head. One tiny little hand is grabbing at my arm, the other is in her mouth, making her a drooling mess. I don't mind, though. The hypnotized look in her eyes makes me smile as I gently sway her around the room.

"Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left, and you stay right
Between the lines, of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came."

Carl and mom are sitting in a pew together, slowly eating through a can of peas. Though moms' eyes are on the spoon in her hand, every time I sway in their direction I feel her gaze strongly on me. It's like being watched by a hawk. I don't stop my singing, but I make a mental note to ask her why I'm in a microscope.

"Where did I go wrong?
I lost a friend
Somewhere along, in the bitterness
And I, would have stayed up, with you all night
Had I known, how to save a life."

I look down to the baby again and notice that her eyes are still big and wide; not the least bit tired. I continue my serenade, looking down every other swing to see if she would sleep. Once the song is over, her tired form goes back into the single baby carrier we have. I hear light echoes of clapping, and I look up to see it's Carl, and grin on his face.

"Oh, stop it." I stick my tongue out at him. "You're going to wake her again."

He stops the claps, but he whispers out, "Bravo. Encore!"

I plop beside him and mom and grab a spoon for the peas. "You are terrible."

"Awe, come on." Mom playfully shoves my shoulder. "You're good."

"And pigs can fly." I give a light chuckle to her. "I only sang so she would go to sleep."

"I miss you singing." Carl says. I scoop some peas and raise an eyebrow at him. "I remember that one night, back at the prison, you and Beth sang for all of us. It was nice."

I swallow my peas and nod, smiling. "It was. Maybe she and I will serenade all of you tomorrow. We'll sing some Emily Kinney."

"You better." Mom gives me a cheeky grin and I poke her with the back of my spoon.

As the sounds of cooing fill the quiet room again, I groan. "I told you two!"

They both laugh in response. Mom drops her spoon into the can and she grabs Judith again. She isn't crying, which is a good sign, but still. She's awake. Mom grabs the baby pouch and sets it on her back, Judith in the pouch comfortably.

After the can is empty and the spoons are put into a pack, mom goes to check on Father Gabriel. I can hear soft, kind words to him, offering support and help. I also hear his panicked, though seemingly sincere, "thank you." And I also hear him close the door.

"Ugh, I'm boreedddd." I groan. I lay on a pew, my legs against the arm rest and an arm dangling from the side. I hit the arm rest to a nonexistent tune. It's too quiet in here.

"Hey Bored, I'm mom." Mom says to me. She sits on the empty space beside my head.

I frown at her. "You... You did NOT just use a dad joke against me."

She grins down to me. "That's exactly what I did. Whatcha gonna do about it?"

I drop the frown and rest my hands beneath my head. "Nothing. I'm just going to sit here and keep complaining."

She goes a playful roll of her eyes as I whine out, "I'm boooored."

"PLEASE!"
"LET ME IN!"

The three of us all jump at the sudden yells. I look to mom and she jumps on her feet. Father Gabriel.

"PLEASE, LET ME IN! THEY'RE CLOSE!" I can hear his hands banging on the door, but it's shut and barricaded. Carl and I run to the front, grabbing at the wooden plank. No use. It's hammered down really well.

"HELP! THEY'RE COMING! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME OUT HERE! CARL! MICHONNE! ALYSSA! I HAD TO SEE IT! I KNOW NOW! LET ME LIVE WITH IT! Oh god, please!"

The two of us desperately try to pull the wood off the door, but to no avail. His screams fill the air, as does the groans and moans of the undead around him. There's so many, I think.

"Get back." Mom tells us, an axe in her hand. We move behind her, and we grab our guns. I quickly check my ammo: seven bullets. Shit.

She brings the axe down on the barricade harshly, breaking through the wood. It splinters and cracks at the top, and she pulls the end back out. She brings it down, again and again, and finally we can pull the broken wood out of the way. I open the door and Father Gabriel turns to the sound.

"Come on!" Carl grabs his arm and yanks him inside. Both of us start to shoot at the herd behind him, not even bothering to try and close the door. Six, five, four.

"Get back!" Mom tells us. We stop shooting and get behind her, and she yanks her katana out of its sheath.

She starts slicing the walkers with ease, killing at least two with each swing. It's almost entertaining to watch. Then I notice Judith still in the pouch on her back. The baby is confused at why her human is moving around so quickly, but she doesn't seem to mind. Her hands are still latched on to mom's locks in the back.

The hoard seems to be too much for mom to handle. There's too many for her to get. We all back away quickly from them, and I shoot another one getting too close to mom for my comfort. Three.

"The rectory!" Gabriel shouts. "Come on!"

With no other choice, we all follow him to the room and he pushes the door shut. The first thing I notice are the missing boards from the ground, all resting against the wall. Where they should be is a gaping hole in the ground.

There's nothing to barricade the door with besides an old wooden chair. Mom grabs it and holds it against the door, hoping it would help but it barely does anything.

Gabriel points to the hole. "That's how I got out. Crawl under to the back. Just go. Take the little one and GO."

Mom takes Judith off her back and gives her to Carl, leaving Father Gabriel to hold the door himself. I look to the single bag that we have in the room, only three cans of food in it. Still, I grab it and let Carl hop in first.

"Hey!" Mom gets our attention. "You two wait for me."

We both nod and begin crawling through the hole. It's dark and cramped, and the dirt walls crumble a little with every step. My breath is caught in my throat as we keep moving through it.

Once we reach the end, I gasp in relief and do a quick look around. I can hear the walkers, but most are inside the church by now. There's only a few around, and most are stuck to the organ pieces around the front.

Mom gets out from behind me, and I give her a hand up. "We can lock 'em in there," she pants out. Carl and I give shaky nods. Father Gabriel crawls out of the hole, holding a bloody machete in his hand. Damn, maybe you are learning.

"I can't run anymore." He coughs out. Mom holds a hand out to him and he takes it.

"We're not running." She says simply.

We all make our way around the front and I go to kill the walkers roaming around. Carl kills the ones on the organ pieces. Gabriel grabs two large wooden planks from the pile Sasha made earlier, along with some nails, and mom quickly yanks off her belt. We all go to the doors of the church and we quickly pull them shut. Gabriel holds a plank up and Carl and I set to beating the nails in with the ends of our guns. Moms hands work quickly to wrap the doorknobs together with the belt.

When we're done, we step back and breathe in quick pants. The doors done. They can't get anywhere.

"Still bored?" Carl pants out to me.

A/N: Hope you all like it! The actual mid-season finale should be up in a few days. And, disclaimer, I do not own the song, "How to Save a Life." I just really like it and thought it would be appropriate to use.