A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Every chapter, we're getting closer and close to Alexandria! I am SO EXCITED to write Team Family there. You have no idea what I have planned for Alyssa and Carl there ;)

They're behind us, shambling aimlessly with no thought. But they're getting too close for comfort. Their numbers grow slowly but surely.

We're too weak to fight. I know that if I tried to take down even just one of them, I'd keel over and it would kill me. There's no doubt about it. The rest of the group feels the same. So we keep walking, trying to go a little faster to keep a safe distance.

Then we come to a road going over a dried creek. Over a dried creek means that there is a dip on each side of the road. A dip means we can toss the walkers off the edges.

So we break into two teams; one taking the left and one taking the right. That way the walkers can't crowd our group. They'll go to either side, disbanding into ones and twos instead of fours and fives. And it works. Weakly, we all push them down the sides, careful to keep a safe distance from the edges that we push the dead over. Almost the entire herd is down the ditch, until Sasha gets her hands on a walker. Rather than shoving her undead pal down the side, she keeps him at an arm's length, shoving him to the right.

"Sasha." Mom warns, careful not to get too close to the two, but pulling her katana out. Sasha fucked up the formation. The walkers all move towards her, but she doesn't seem to care. She stabs the one she taunted with ferocity.

Rick seems annoyed at her disobedience, as is everyone else. With eye rolls and sighs of discontent, we shuffle our way to her. Rick pulls out his machete, and the rest of us follow with our sharp handhelds.

"Stay in line. Flank her." Rick orders. "Keep it controlled!" As he says the last word, he throws his machete up and brings it down on a walkers head. I worry as he has trouble getting it out. He's weak. We're all weak. What was Sasha thinking?

"Plan just got dicked." Abraham says, as poetic as ever.

Sasha moves forward, growling in anger, and begins to stab some others that go near. The pile of bodies grow as she stands another, then another. Until mom grabs the back of her weapon-carrying arm.

She almost stabs mom. Her arm goes back with full force, barely stopping as she almost hits the flesh of my mothers side.

"Stop." Mom says, sounding like a beg. "Just get out of here."

Sasha shrugs her off harshly, swinging her knife down onto the next walker in front of her. We all go to help, loosely swinging our weapons out and tugging them out. I'm so weak that each time I dig my knife into a skull, I need to use both hands to pull it back out. It's torture.

As Sasha goes to kill another walker, her knife accidentally goes through its neck to Abrahams arm, creating a small scarlet mark. His eyes glower down to hers, but it barely registers. She goes back to kill the last walker standing, but mom pushes her to the ground. Mom kills the last one, decapitating it in one harsh slice.

"I told you to stop." Mom says, anger clearly present. I don't blame her; that fight took a lot out of all of us. I'm already gasping for air and I only killed three of them.

Sasha gets up from her spot on the ground, all the while eyeing mom like she is insulted. She walks away from the rest of us, setting her knife back in her sheath. We all groan internally, but we follow. We need to keep going. We need to find something. Anything.

It's not long after that that we find something peculiar in the road.

"Dad, look." Carl says, and when I look up from the ground I see him pointing to something in the middle of the street, a couple minutes from where we are.

Cars. A car crash. A wreck.

They're all beat up and old, but that doesn't mean there can't be anything inside. Please be food. Or water. Anything.

"I'm gonna head into the woods, circle back." Daryl says. Yet again. Another trip.

"May I come with?" Carol asks this time, not pushing her luck with him.

"No." He answers, his tone quite clearly saying he wants his alone time. "Nah. Just me."

We all break apart into tiny groups, looking into individual cars. There's at least eight of them. Though I know it's a longshot, I silently hope for there to be something in one of them.

I go to a tiny silver car, grabbing the drivers door handle and jiggling it. Unlocked. I pull it open and peer inside, and nearly throw up.

The passengers side has a walker in it, old and decaying. The way it's decaying makes it look like it's been here the whole two and a half years of the damn apocalypse. It doesn't even turn its head when I lean into the car. Behind it is an old baby car seat. Oh god. A kid. I don't see the baby anywhere, but there's blood and chunks of flesh resting on the fluffy seat. I really am going to throw up. And I don't think I even have anything to throw up.

I gag, but look back down to the drivers seat, keeping myself from vomiting everywhere. I lean past the seat to the passengers side, my hands shaking as it open the glove compartment. The walker barely twists its arms in my direction, so I don't pay it much thought.

Letters, notes, a magazine… Nothing useful.

"Angel, could you pop the trunk?" I hear Carl say, standing to the back. I nod and look around to all the buttons and trying to find one to open the trunk. Where is it?

I finally find it hidden on the ground, to the left of the seat. It's a tiny lever that one has to pull up, not just a button. Cool, I guess. I yank it open and I hear the satisfying sound- CLACK!- of the door opening.

I can hear the shuffling of objects being tossed around as I make my way to the back, leaving the driver door open. Carl holds up something tiny in his hand, something dark green.

"Happy birthday." He says, handing it to me. A bracelet. "I'm probably late. Or early. Who knows?"

I flip it around in my hand, my eyes roaming over the little details on it. It's a leather wrap, making three loops in total. It's a deep, forest green, with some brown around the edges of it. Two charms hang loosely off the middle wrap: one Celtic symbol, one a small heart.

I smile at the gift and look up to him. How can you still be so sweet?

"I thought it was pretty, like you." He winks at me playfully, and my grin grows (along with a forming blush.) "And the green makes your eyes shine brighter."

I go on my tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek, and I wrap my hands around his form. My head rests on his chest for just a moment- a sweet moment. He hugs me back tightly; holding me so close, as if this one hug could shroud me from all the pain I've felt these few weeks. I can almost believe that. This is one of those hugs that I don't want to end. His lips go to my forehead and he presses a sweet kiss to my temple before letting me go. He then takes the bracelet from my hand and begins to shimmy it down my left wrist.

"You don't need to talk." He says gently, his eyes moving from my wrist to my eyes for a moment before looking back at the bracelet. "I get it. I'm not going to tell you how to cope. I'm not good at it either. So long as you don't hurt yourself. I couldn't function if you did. Okay?"

My heart jumps in my throat when he says, "I couldn't function." No. Never. I would never do that. But I don't say it out loud again. So instead, when he looks back up to me, I nod vigorously. Even though he didn't seem tense before, he visibly relaxes at my mute statement. How long has he thought that? I've worried him this whole time? I guess I did.

Once the bracelet is on my wrist, he tells me, "Done. Pretty bracelet for a pretty girl."

I give a small laugh at his words, and he gives me a cheeky grin. He drops one hand to his side and the other intertwins our fingers together before they're dropped as one.

"C'mon, there's nothing else in the car." He gives a gentle tug on my hand and together we go back to the group.

Nothing. Yet again. Not a single person found food. So we all sit down on the side of the road, by the cars, just taking a quick breather. I feel like I could pass out, that maybe I should pass out. Being asleep would be easier to handle than this empty pit in my stomach.

I press my back against moms, my eyes on the forest and hers to the street. It's more coverage. Plus, it's comfier to rest with her than against a tree. Carl and Rick do the same to our left.

A branch snaps loudly to the street, and I automatically pull out my knife. But I'm so weak that I almost drop the damn thing. My hands are so shaky from the low blood sugar. Yet, the weapon isn't needed. Our group on the ground all turn towards the sound, but it's only Daryl making his way back from his solo hunt. He didn't catch anything either.

My eyes, half-lidded but still being used, go to Abraham grabbing a bottle of whiskey from one of the bags. I frown. Now's not the time to drink.

"So all we found was booze?" Tara asks Rosita as they sit together by the forest, though it's said more as a statement.

"Yeah." Rosita answers. Her hand holds a knife, and she stabs it periodically into the dirt in front of her. I give her props; she still has strength left.

"It's not gonna help." Tara looks down to the drink being downed, sheepishly saying the words.

"He knows that." Rosita says with a firm, sarcastic nod. More of a, "Oh, he knows it. He just doesn't give a shit," kind of nod.

"It's gonna make it worse."

"Yes, it is."

"He's a grown man." Eugene says, trying to defend the ginger. "And I truly do not know if things can get worse."

We're all silent. Yes, they can. They always can.

"They can." Rosita tells him, nodding at her words.

Suddenly, there's rustling in the bushes around us. My knife is held up yet again, and I don't like what I see. Dogs. Four of them.

They all run to us, stopping maybe a foot from our group. Wild and mangy, they've seem to have been put through the mill. And I think, "We have, too. It's okay." All of us tense up as they pace back and forth, and then they begin to bark at us. Shit. Don't. Shitshitshithsit-

And the thwick, ping ping of silenced bullets fills my ears. And pained whimpers. Sasha. Her gun has a silencer. I flinch as I see the dogs go down one by one, bleeding and dying. I'm sorry. It makes me want to cry.

My free fingers find moms on the ground, and I push mine in between hers. Her eyes swiftly look downward at the sudden intrusion of her personal space, but relaxes and pulls my fingers in tighter. And together, we watch Rick stand up and head to the forest clearing, yanking a stick from the ground. Using both hands he breaks the stick in half, and thirds, and quarters, handing the pieces out to everyone. Ohmygod. We're going to eat them. And while the prospect of eating dog meat makes me squirm, I'm also salivating at the thought of food. Finally, some food.

We build a small campfire in the middle of the group, and we barbecue our chunks of dog. The second mine is dark enough, I grab it off my stick and bite into it savagely. The burn on my tongue and my fingers from the cooked meat stings, but it's so worth it. I'm sure the tip of my tongue agrees.

I look over to the group, surveying the small chatter of others. It's relatively quiet, not that I'm surprised. Why talk when we can eat? Though I do witness Gabriel yanking his white collar of his shirt, throwing it into the fire. Maggie watches every move he makes as he does so.

We don't stay for long. Though it's a good meal for all of us, it'll only last us another day or two. So we cook the rest of the dogs and throw it into a bag and hit the road.

I take the back of the group again. It's easier like this. Normally people don't bother me here; it's easier to be alone. With the exception of Glenn this morning, it's relatively quiet for me.

Speaking of Glenn, I see him talking to Maggie. Finally. She needs him, whether or not she admits it. He's been so cautious around her lately, and she hasn't let him in. But today, it seems like she does. I see the conversation start by Glenn offering her a bottle of water. She doesn't take it. And, in the softest voice that he could ever use, he talks to her. And though I'm too far away to hear whatever he says to her, I see that they're not forceful, or angry. They're as kind and compassionate as he's ever been. Though I can't hear the words, I can tell they have an impact on her. She takes the bottle from him and takes a tiny swig.

It puts a smile to my face, to see that she's beginning to let someone in again. Especially Glenn. It's good for her. Even though the water was just a tiny step, it's still a step taken.

Glenn turns to around to the rest of us holding up the back. That includes Daryl, Sasha, Abraham, and me. Daryl flat out answers no. Abraham is still tending to his whiskey, so he gives a no. Sasha just shakes her head. I don't either. Not that I don't want to, but this damn bottle needs to last for over a dozen people. I don't want to waste the resources if I don't gravely need it.

I notice Daryl leaving the group, yet again. I'm beginning to grow annoyed with his constant trips out. He finds nothing, comes back to the group, and leaves again. They're useless trips and they need to stop. Especially if-

Holy shit.

"What the hell is that?" Glenn squints to the middle of the road, just barely ahead of where we are. He sees it too. I'm not going crazy.

"What?" Mom glances over to where he's looking at, and her eyes widen. I'm not sure if they're from shock, fear, or excitement. Probably a mix of all three.
Water. Jugs and bottles filled to the brim with clear water. In the middle of the water pile is a paper that writes out in black sharpie, "FROM A FRIEND."

I want to get excited; I really do. That thought of the water, even looking at it makes me want to drink it, but I can't. Nor does anyone else. We all have the underpaying thought: "FROM A FRIEND." With a note like that, it's most likely poisoned. All that water, gone to waste.

Gabriel walks up to the pile eagerly, grabbing a bottle with excitement.

Immediately Rick shakes his head. "Put it back."

"Why?" Gabriel pouts, eagerly yanking the top off the bottle.

"Poison." Rick says, yanking the bottle out of his hands with haste and spilling some in the process. I watch the droplets hit the pavement with hungry eyes. We all circle around the pile as Rick caps the bottle and puts it back with the others.

Daryl pops back from his little rendezvous, looking to all of us. Rick grabs the note and shows it to the hunter. Daryl immediately goes into Defense-Mode, yanking his crossbow from his shoulder and pointing it down the street, watching. The sense of unease grows in our group with his action.

"What else do we do?" Tara asks Rick.

"Not this." He answers. "We don't know who left it."

"If it's a trap, we already happen to be in it." Eugene reasons, his thirst overcoming his reasoning. "But I, for one, would like to think it is indeed from a friend."

"What if it isn't?" Mom points out. I notice her voice is heavy and groggy. "What if they put something in it?"

Though he hears her, the words don't register. He pulls into the circle and grabs a bottle.

"Eugene!" Rosita yells to him, annoyed as all hell.

"What are you doing, dude?" Tara sides with Rosita. Yet again the words don't register to him and he takes the cap off and brings the drink to his lips.

"Quality assurance." He says it like it should be obvious. But just as he's about to take a sip, Abraham walks to Eugene and knocks the bottle out of his hands harshly. Thank you.. Eugene's shirt is slightly soaked from the water, and he looks distressed and embarrassed at Abrahams action.

"We can't." It's only two words, but Rick puts such a harshness to them that Eugene just nods.

And then, the best thing happens to us.

Thunder.

And it rains.

I look up to the sky, feeling the strong raindrops hit my skin. They're so harsh as they pound against my skin, and I have to think for a moment. Is this real?
But I look to the others, and they do the same as me. Arms outstretched, head held high, mouths open. I can hear the laughter of relief from them. And I laugh too.

I look up to the sky again, opening my mouth to let the water in. The warm droplets hit my tongue and my teeth and in the moment, it's the best feeling ever. I hold my arms up to the sky, rubbing my skin furiously. The dirt and blood that's been caked into it slowly washes away. The rain makes me clean again. It makes all of us clean.

I glance around all of us, my heart swelling in appreciation at the rain. It's what we all needed. I haven't seen our group so happy since before the church. Tara and Rosita drop to the ground, lying on their back and letting the rain soak their fronts. Glenn drops to a knee, running a hand over his face and laughing heartily. Mom even hugs Carol beside her, swinging back and forth as they grin from ear to ear. The only two that aren't rejoicing are Maggie and Sasha. They stay stoic and still in their spots.

Carl holds a hat over Judith's face, shielding her from the harsh drops as he looks up to the sky with his mouth open. I move over to them and laugh without thought. I bring an arm around Judith and the other around Carl, holding them loosely as he and I both raise our heads to the sky.

"Everybody, get the bags." Rick orders, a great smile showing from underneath his caveman beard. "Anything you can find. C'mon!"

We all rummage through our messenger bags and packs, grabbing our empty water bottle and blowing air into them so they get into shape. And those of us with empty arms hold them steady, catching all the water we can.

Sadly, our happiness is short-lived. The clouds clap loudly with thunder, and the joy that Team Family has is replaced with apprehension. A storm? Really? We can't catch a single god damn break. Judith begins to cry loudly at the thunderclaps, and we all realize: shit. The sky grows dark in the blink of an eye. The clouds, once poofy and white, are now masses of floating grey, bringing along the promise of a harsh storm.

"Let's get moving!" Rick shouts, hoping he's heard over the sounds of Mother Nature cackling.

"There's a barn!" Daryl shouts to him.

"Where?!"

The trek through the woods is quick, thank god. And since the barn is empty with no signs of anyone, alive or dead, we all hop inside. Almost all our bottles are, for the most part, filled about a quarter from the top. Each of them. Not that I'm saying it'll last, but it's a good start.

By nighttime, we have a fire built and we all huddle around it, trying to dry off and stay warm. Currently I'm lying against a barn wall, still in the firelight but away from the group. I play with the new bracelet on my wrist, twirling it around and rubbing the charms in between my fingers without thought.

"Is this seat taken?" Someone says above me, a voice I'm all too familiar with. I look up to her with a tiny smile and pat the open spot beside me. She plops down, cuddling up to my side so we keep warm. Her arm is thrown around my shoulder, pulling me close. I press my head into the crook of her shoulder and she rests hers atop mine.

"Feeling better?" She whispers into my hair. I nod, being careful not to hit her in the face as I move my head. "Good."

Absentmindedly, my right arm goes to the bracelet once more, moving it back and forth to an absent rhythm. Moms hand goes to the jewelry, my own moving away so she can look at it. Her finger moves around the spiral, stopping to flip over the charms.

"Carl got this for you?" She asks, but it's more of a statement. Who else would?

So I nod to the question, shooting a smile over to his sleeping form. He still holds Judith tightly, even in his sleep.

"He's good to you." She tells me, a genuine smile on her face. I blush lightly. "No, I mean it. He's been beside you this whole time, taking care of you without thinking. He's sweet and kind and generous... I'm glad you found him."

Me, too.

My response is to snuggle up closer to her, my arm going around her middle and holding her tightly. She responds with the same amount of love.

And we sit there together for what feels like an eternity. We just hold each other, comfortable in the silence (and general chatter from the rest of the group and the crashes of thunder.) It's nice to sit with her like this. It reminds me of how we used to sleep together in the winter, back when it was just her, Andrea, and me. We always held each other close to keep warm; just like this. Oh, the nostalgia. Slowly, I feel my eyelids getting heavy. Mom notices too.

"Go." She takes her arm off my shoulders as she untangles herself from me. "Get some sleep."

I nod to her and press a kiss on her cheek. Then I move to Carl and Judith, getting on Judith's side so she's in between us. My arm goes around her and Carl protectively before I finally doze off.

CRASH! CA-CLAP!

The sounds immediately wake me up. The, "CLAP!" I understood, but the crash?!

I look around the group, and they all stand from their spots and run to the barn door. And then the sound of walkers lurking fill my ears. They're right outside. Shit.

Carl and I look to each other, and we get up as fast as we can to help the others. Judith stays on the ground, alone. It's not like she can move anywhere; she'll be safe.

As a single force, we all push against the wood. Some with their backs, others with their hands. I groan as push on my back with all my might. The door needs to stay closed.

The thunder can be seen through the cracks, easily blinding me if I looked out. The wind is so strong, pushing against the door with as much force as it possibly can. The walkers push hard, too. Them, the wind, the rain, the thunder- it's like Mother Nature is testing us. Using all of her strength to beat us down and kill us. We can't let that happen. We can't.

So together we stay, holding this damn door shut for our dear lives, giving a hearty, "fuck you!" to all of her tests. The hunger, the thirst, and now this? These past weeks have been absolute hell and I'm not going to let her win this battle. Fuck you. We're still here.

Yeah, we're still here.

A/N: Not the best chapter, but it's finally out! And that means that there should be ONE chapter left until we get to Alexandria!

Now, onto something not-so-fun. The premiere for season 7. I'm assuming I'm not the only one that cried, correct? Not that I'm going to spoil it for anyone on here that hasn't seen it, but... It was bad. Really bad. Like, I-cried-for-two-hours-after bad.

I don't want to go there with this story. Up to season six, for sure, but I don't think I'll want to continue onto season 7, which will be a problem. I'm still figuring that out.

Well, don't freak out yet. (Or, freak out to me in a review or PM! lol) I still have a LOT to go with. This story isn't ending any time soon :) I still have a lot to tell.