DARYL

The next mornin' is spent clearin' the walkers and the dead out of camp. We throw the walkers in the bonfire and we put the dead to the side to bury. A waste of time if you ask me. Dead is dead, doesn't make no difference if you burn or bury 'em.

That Andrea girl is still starin' at her dead sister's body, not letting us get near it. I say we shoot her brains out from over here and just be done with it, but the others seem ok with having a bit girl in the middle of camp. Fucking cowards is what they are.

Morales and I start haulin' some dead guy into the fire, but Glenn starts getting' on us.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, what are you guys doing?" He asks but we ignore him. "This is for geeks! Our people go over there!

"What's the difference? They're all infected."

He won't let it be though. "Our people go in that row over there." His voice shakes but I can tell he's serious. Morales and I put the body down and look at him. This time, he yells, "We don't burn them!" He takes a second to calm down. "We bury them. Understand?" I stare at him for a moment. He doesn't back down. He's got some balls on him, this kid. "Our people go in that row over there."

Morales and I pick the body back up and drag him to the row Glenn pointed at earlier. Whatever, if these people want to waste their time, let them. "You reap what you sow," I yell back.

This time, it's Morales that shouts back at me, "You know what? Shut up, man!"

Fuck these people! They act like they care so much, but they're really all just stuck up pricks. Where was this compassion when they locked Merle up on that roof? We not good enough for 'em? "Y'all left my brother for dead!" I storm off, but not before pointing at the devastated camp, "You had this comin'!"

I walk over to my stuff and grab my crossbow, strapping it over my chest. They can all pretend as much as they want, that they're better than us. See if I fuckin' care.

I watch from a distance as Jim walks over to Glenn, starts talking to him 'bout somethin'. I'm about to turn away when I hear him say "Ashlyn". I see Glenn nod and start walkin' towards Rick's tent, where Red's sleeping. The fuckin' coward. Sending Glenn to get her instead of just goin' himself.

Jim stares after Glenn for a moment before getting back to work. I start walkin' towards the woods, planning on try to get some squirrels for later, but then I hear, "A walker got him! A walker bit Jim!"

I turn around and see Jacqui yelling, stepping away from Jim, and the rest of the camp converging on him. Fuck. I walk briskly back to the clearing. Everyone's formed a circle around Jim, who's standing defensively in the middle. He keeps repeating "I'm okay, I'm okay," but no one seems to care. I pick my pick axe back up and start yelling at him.

"Show it to us!" I run closer. "Show it to us."

Jim picks up a shovel, as if he's going to fight us all off. Everyone is yelling and trying to get him to stop. T-Dog rushes him from behind and holds his arms back. I run up to him, pulling his shirt up. A bright red ring is on his side, tooth marks and everything, still bleeding. I put his shirt down and move away. "I'm okay, I'm okay," he keeps saying.

We all stare at him, unsure what to do, waiting for someone to make the first move, or maybe just waiting for him to turn.

Rick speaks up first though, "Jim, you sit over there now. Everyone else, we need to talk." Jim staggers over to the RV and sits down, still weary of everyone around him. The rest of the group comes together a good distance from him.

They all seem to be thinkin' the same thing, but no one wants to be the one to say it. Pussies. "I say we put an axe in his head," I say, gripping me own pick axe. "And the dead girl's to be done with it."

Shane looks up at me and asks, "Is that what you would want if it were you?" Trying to get me all sentimental and crap, but it doesn't work.

"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it." But then I think about Red, and the way Jim talked about her last night. This is gonna kill her. First her sister, now her brother-in-law. I push those thoughts away. It don't matter anymore. He's infected. Besides, there's no room for that kind of thinkin' if you want to survive.

"I hate to say it—I never thought I would—but maybe Daryl's right." Damn right I am. Glad to see people finally figuring it out.

"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog." Rick says, always being the good guy.

"I'm not suggesting—"

"He's sick. He's a sick man," Rick interrupts Dale. "We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"The line's pretty clear, zero tolerance for walkers," I say, challenging Rick, "or them to be."

"What if we can get him help?" Rick counters. He just don't get it. There is no help. This ain't some fairytale where everything turns out alright. "I heard the CDC was workin' on a cure." Here we go. They all start bickering about some cure and where we should go next. Shane wants Fort Benning but that's over a hundred miles away. Fuckin' idiots, all of them. They all want people to help them, but they won't do shit for themselves. Well, I ain't afraid to do what needs to be done.

ASHLYN

(a/n: usually when I switch perspectives, the timeline just continues where it left off, but this time, Ashlyn's perspective starts a little before Daryl's started.)

"We can't just keep pickin' people up off the road! She'll just be another mouth to feed, another person to keep safe." I hear hushed voices coming from somewhere near me.

"If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have made it back here in time. Things would've turned out much worse if she didn't help us." That sounds like… Rick?

"If you had just listened to me in the first place, the camp wouldn't of been so vulnerable."

"We needed those guns and you know that."

"Mmmm." I groan as I try opening my eyes, only to close them tight to keep the light out.

The conversation stops and the room is filled with silence. After a pause, I hear footsteps coming toward me, then a zipper being opened. My instincts kick in, and I spring up, my hand going to my side, where my crowbar should be, but my hand finds nothing. I stare, wide-eyed, at the two men in front of me. I recognize the one on the left as Rick, but the other one is only vaguely familiar. My mind flashes back to last night, and the panicked faces lit by the fire. He was there last night. Suddenly my head throbs and colorful splotches block my vision.

"Whoa there," Rick says, putting his hand on my shoulder, "try not sitting up too fast. You've been laying down for quite some time." I nod slowly and close my eyes. What time is it?

After a moment, I open my eyes, and take a look at the man next to Rick. He's wearing cargo pants with combat boots and a gray t-shirt, with a gold chain around his neck. He looks well-built and around my age.

"Ashlyn, this is Shane Walsh. He was my partner back… before. He's a good man, takes care of a lot of stuff around camp."

I nod at him and mumble a "Nice to meet you" before turning to Rick. I recall the conversation I just heard. I want to talk to Rick about it; it seems there's been a misunderstanding.

Before I can ask to talk to him in private, Rick speaks up, "If you'll excuse me and Shane, we've got some things to discuss. You should keep resting." I nod again, thinking it'd probably be better if I got my thoughts together.

Rick and Shane leave the room, which I just notice is actually a tent. I let out a sigh and look around me. There's a small bowl with some plain white rice and a bottle of water next to me. Suddenly aware of how hungry I am, I grab the bowl and begin shoveling rice into my mouth with my fingers. I pause, realizing I haven't eaten anything since two nights ago when I had some corn. My thoughts only last a moment though, and I continue stuffing my face. Beginning to choke on the dry rice, I look up from my bowl to grab the water bottle, only to seem a very amused looking Glenn lightly leaning against the opening of the tent, arms crossed in front of him.

"Never seen a lady eat like that before," he says with a smirk, "you're sure you're not a man?"

Some part of me is mortified, but my hunger and thirst overwhelm whatever part that is. I pick up the bottle and chug half of its contents, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, before I acknowledge him.

I put down the bowl and bottle, pull open the collar of my shirt and look down. "Yep, still a lady." It isn't until I do this, do I realize I'm wearing someone else's clothes. I also notice quite a bit of bandaging on my torso when I look down my shirt. I lift up the hem of the shirt, revealing my stomach. Some gauze held in place with medical tape covers my abdomen to the left of my bellybutton. A faint red line is visible on the gauze, where my cut must've begun to bleed through. I can see purple and yellow bruising peaking out from under the gauze. "Huh."

I look back up to Glenn, who's gazing at my patched up wound with a hard expression. "Do you remember what happened last night?" He asks, much more serious than he was a moment ago. He takes a nervous step forward.

"Last night? Yeah.. we showed up to the camp and it was under attack. An Infected fell on me. I shot it but..," I look down at my stomach, "when I shot it, the recoil…"

"After that. "

I try thinking about what happened last night. We were killing Infected left and right, everyone was scared, people had died. I went over to the group. But then something happened. I saw someone.

"Jim," I breath. My head starts to spin. "He's alive, he's at the camp." I start to get up. Mel! she could be here. I can feel the hope spreading through my body. I start scrambling out of bed, "Where is he? Where's Jim!?"

Glenn takes a deep breath and crouches down, so that he's eye level with me. "He wants to talk to you. He didn't want to come in himself and get you too worked up. When you're feeling better, he's right out there."

I nod slowly, looking back at his caring eyes. He's such a sweet guy, I can't help but feel guilty about how I treated him before. The other's too. They've been nothing but nice to me. I look down, avoiding eye contact, and whisper, "I'm so sorry."

I look up to see his confused face staring back at me. "For what?"

".. For not trusting you I suppose. I almost left all of you stranded in the city."

"But you came back," he smiles. "I should be thanking you." He stands up and goes back to the tent opening.

"Thank you," I say very seriously to him. He's been so kind to me. I'm about to start tearing up, when I remember my sister. I close my eyes, thinking about that day, the day I was sure I lost everything. My mind keeps thinking, 'Maybe, maybe, maybe,' but I try to push that back, not wanting to get my hopes up. But it's no use. I stand up and say to Glenn, "I'm ready."

I follow Glenn to the center of camp. I see a blond woman I recognize from yesterday, stoically hovering over the body of a young blond girl. A sudden pang of fear hits me. She looks like the older one's younger sister. I can't help imagine the scene as myself holding the body of my younger sister. I take a deep breath and continue following Glenn. The clearing comes into view and I see everyone standing around talking about something. I notice Jim sitting alone by the RV, and I'm about to call out to him, when I see Daryl break away from the group, run to Jim, and lift a pick axe in the air, ready to strike.

A scream escapes my lips and I run to Jim, throwing my body over his. When no pain comes, I look up to see Daryl, still as a statue, holding the axe over his head, staring at me wide eyed. I stare back at him, my chest hurting as I clutch at Jim's arm.

Then I notice Rick standing behind Daryl, holding a pistol to his head. Shane comes over and stands between Daryl and Jim and I. "We don't kill the living." Rick says slowly.

"That's funny, coming from a guy that just put a gun to my head," Daryl spits. Despite his attitude and toughness, I can't help thinking of a cornered animal as I watch Daryl.

"We may disagree on some things. Not on this. You put it down." Shane says calmly. "Go on."

Daryl aggressively sticks his pick axe in the dirt before glancing over at me. I stare back at him, pained and angry, clutching at Jim's arm. He looks away quickly before storming off. I turn to Jim and notice his condition. His body temperature seems high and he's sweating buckets. He turns his face away from mine, as if trying to hide something. I put my hand to his cheek and turn his head. "Jim," I whisper, beginning to put the pieces together. I look back up towards Rick and Shane, "He's okay isn't he? Why was Daryl trying to kill him? He- he's not,"

Jim puts his hand over mine and I turn back to him. "I didn't want you to find out like this." I start to panic but he says, "It's alright. I've been bit, but it's alright."

I close my eyes and burry my face in his chest. I just found him and now he's going to be gone. This isn't fair.

"I need to tell you. Tell you about Mel," he croaks. I look up at him, but then turn to Rick.

"I want to talk to him, in private."

"Now, I don't think that's the best—" Shane begins to say but Rick stops him.

"Okay. Just be careful." Rick and Shane walk away, glancing back at us anxiously.

I hug Jim closer and whisper to him, "It's ok… I know." His head jerks over to me, surprised. "If she was alive, she'd be right here. Making sure no one hurt you."

He looks down, a small, sad smile on his lips, "She would be, wouldn't she?" We sit like that for a while, thinking about Mel. Deep down, I had known all along that she was dead. I just didn't want to believe it. "She looked up to you. She may have gotten on you about working too much, but she thought you were amazing because of it. Just wanted you to be happy is all."

Tears start welling in my eyes, as I remember all the times Mel got on me about finding a husband. All the times she tried setting me up with different guys. Then I remembered her following me around when we were little, holding my hand. She was always the center of attention, with her dimples and bouncy blond curls. I was jealous of her, but she always gave me the attention I never got from others.

"I want you to have this," Jim says, pulling out a folded up paper from his shirt pocket, right over his heart. He hands it to me and when I open it up, I put my hand over my mouth in shock. It's a picture. Of the five of us. Jim, Mel, their two boys, and me. From the time they visited me down in Florida, and I took them out on the boat to go fishing. Mel looked so happy, holding her two-year old in one arm with her other arm around Jim. I was standing next to them, with their older son, Kenny, on my shoulders. It was the last time I had seen them.

We sit like that for a while. Occasionally mentioning something that Mel did or said. It hurts, but I'm glad I get to talk to someone about her. Someone that remembers her, just like I do. I didn't think I would have this opportunity.

After a while though, Rick and Shane come back, worried. They tell me it's better if we take Jim somewhere safe. At first, I don't trust them. I'm not ready to lose Jim too. But Jim tells me it's okay, that I need to rest more, so I let them take him, into the RV. I stay where I am and curl up with my back against the RV. I think about everything that's happened in the last twenty four hours. I was kidnapped by gangsters taking care of old people, released with the help of a group of survivors; I helped them get back to their camp, only to find a full out Infected invasion. I was reunited with my brother-in-law, who is now infected, and I have confirmation my sister is dead. I stare at the picture Jim gave me, exhausted.

And what was Daryl thinking? He was going to kill Jim, without even letting me see him. This infuriated me. Who did he think he was? He knew I was connected to him somehow. He was there last night when I called out to him. But he just didn't care.

I get up and head toward my van. I know I don't have any gas, but I need something familiar. I want to look at my books. Write in my logs. I keep detailed accounts of where I go, what the weather's like, and how many infected are around. I like to believe it's useful information, that I'll somehow understand what's happening if I study it, but I know it's just habit left over from my days as a research scientist.

I get in my truck and rummage through my things. I pull out some clean(ish) clothes and start changing. I slip off the borrowed pants and just as I pull the borrowed shirt over my head, I hear rustling, and spin my head so I'm looking out the driver seat window.

Daryl stares back at me, surprised, having just come out of the woods. His eyes slip down from mine and over my chest. Yanking the shirt back down, I start to get out of the truck and yell at him when I remember I don't have pants on. Fucking hell. I quickly pull a pair of pants on and burst out of my truck.

Daryl looks about as flustered as I feel, but all my anger toward him just comes out at once. "The fuck are you looking at!?"

He's surprised at first but then gets angry too. "It's not my fault you're fuckin' changin' where people can see you, goddamn!"

I know he's right but I'm still mad at him. I charge forward and shove him in the chest. He barely moves but I keep shoving him. He grabs my wrists and holds them down. "Who do you think you are!? You think you can just do whatever you want!?" I keep yelling as I struggle against him. He's too strong though.

"The fuck are you screamin' about, woman!?"

"You tried killing Jim! You were going to put an axe in his head! He wasn't even changed yet and you were going to kill him!" He freezes, loosening his grip on my wrists. He stares at me, his eyes running all over my face, his mouth open. I get away from him and start back toward my truck, unable to get his face out of my mind.

This chapter was really crazy trying to write but I think it came out the way I wanted it too. a lot of stuff about her past. let me know what you think, reviews are always welcomed!