I do not own The Walking Dead.

Previously:

Suddenly, Faye took a step forward and Carl froze as her legs stumbled, falling first to her knees and then forward again, arms not protecting themselves from the fall.

Forehead meeting the ground with a loud thud, the girl didn't move again.

Carl darted forward. "Faye?!"

"No, no, no, no, no," Carl ran to the girl, her body hitting the ground apparently breaking him from being frozen, turning her over as he sat beside her. He turned her head towards him, hand going from holding Faye's cheek to feeling her forehead, a fresh wave of panic washing over the boy as he felt the burning fever against her clammy skin. Carl muttered to himself frantically. "No, no, don't be bit, please, don't be bit!"

Yanking up the poncho, he ran his hand up and down Faye's right arm first. Sweaty, but no bite. The left arm was next, and Carl felt himself grip her hand as he checked. His fingers met a bandage.

Shit. That was a bad sign. Faye was bit. He was going to have to shoot-

No. He wouldn't jump to conclusions. Faye wouldn't hide something like this; she wouldn't put others in danger because she was scared. Gingerly, he pulled at the awkward not holding the bandaging up and unwrap the wound gently. Carl could've sworn the girl's face contorted slightly as he did so, but continued despite this. Eventually, he was met with a raging red slash, the edges jagged from where they must have been torn. It wasn't bleeding, but swollen, not to mention the strange liquid that seemed to have settled in it. She wasn't bitten, but if the boy was honest, this didn't look much better. At least he knew why she had a fever.

How had this even happened? Was it the guys who… who attacked her? Or had she been injured somehow?

Carl didn't have time to dwell on the question as two figures emerged from the doorway to the cellblock. He recognised the faces, it was Karen and Tyreese. Had Faye not been unconscious by his side, the boy might have questioned why they were hanging around together.

"What's going on? I thought I heard something." The woman said, eyes widening as she finally came close to the scene. "Jesus! What happened?"

"She collapsed! Go get Hershel!" Carl replied quickly, not wanting to give the real details to Karen. Faye might have gotten on well with her, but he had barely spoken to her, if not never. The two adults said a few more words to each other, the boy not needing to convince them any further, before Karen began walking away, nodding to Carl as she muttered to him about being quick. Tyreese, however, stayed and crouched down next to the two.

"Come on, let's get her to her cell." He said.

It was as if Tyreese was asking his permission to pick her up and, once Carl realised this, he nodded. "Yeah."

The man carried Faye up to her room with Carl next to him, and soon the girl lay on her bed, her face sickly and pale. Had Tyreese not been there, he would have been tempted to hold her hand, but the man stayed until the tell-tale clicking of Hershel's crutches came, along with the fast heavy ones which were no doubt Daryl's. His tone was demanding as soon as he entered the room. "The hell happened?!"

"She was leaning against the wall and then just fell." Carl replied quickly, knowing Daryl would be easy to agitate. "I think the hit on the head knocked her out. "And she's got that cut."

The hunter ran a hand through his hair, shifting on his feet. "On 'er arm?"

"Yeah." So, what, Daryl knew she was injured and he just let her go without Hershel looking at it? He was supposed to look after her! Hershel hobbled into the room, Rick behind him. Carl kept his tone clipped. "You knew?"

Daryl's eyes stayed locked on the unconscious girl on the bed. He didn't make Carl move – at least, he hadn't yet – but he seemed torn about going to her or staying put. It didn't overly bother the boy, though, because he had no intentions of leaving her side just yet. "No, Jesus, she freaked the fuck out whenever I tried to check the damn bandage." He dared a quick glance to Hershel. "Figured she might let you have a look, you know, you bein'… you."

He didn't need to elaborate. Carl doubted if there was a single person in the prison that didn't trust Hershel.

"Well, that's why I'm here. Carl, if you don't mind." Hershel moved over to the end of the bed, ever calm, the boy standing up so he could get a closer look. While Carl stayed, hovering behind Hershel, Daryl was hovering between anger and something else Carl couldn't quite grasp. Rick seemed to understand what his son did not, however, and moved into the cell to place a hand on Daryl's shoulder.

He leaned in, speaking quietly but firmly. "Don't start putting this on yourself. You did everything you could of, ain't none of it on you."

"I should've been more careful," If Carl hadn't been trying to listen in, he wouldn't have heard the muttering from the hunter. The 'something else' finally revealed itself as guilt. "I let us get separated, should 'a gon' after 'er quicker, should 'a made 'er lemme check-"

Rick continued, interrupting Daryl. "After what she went through, ain't anybody she'd let check 'er over. Not you, me, Hershel, Maggie-"

The boy wasn't completely sure why his Dad brought up Maggie. Maybe it was because she was a girl.

"-nobody. You got 'er back here and that's the best thing you could 'a done. Hershel's gonna fix things." Turning to the older man, who was still examining Faye's wound, he looked for confirmation. "Well? How's she lookin'?"

Hershel's eyes didn't leave the child's arm. "She's got quite the infection going here. I can treat it, but the problem 'll be what with. Most of our antibiotics went on the injuries from the run this morning."

"Do we need to make another one?" Daryl said immediately. "I can go now, if we gotta get more meds."

"In the near future, yes, we're running low on the basics. For now, though, that shouldn't be necessary, I don't think. We have the right medicine, it's just meant for adults, far too strong for someone Faye's age. It's for emergencies. I'll have to alter the dosage, but I'm not sure by how much." Finally, he turned to meet the other three's eyes. "But it is treatable." He looked specifically to Daryl. "Do you know what inflicted the wound? It doesn't look to me like a knife, but I could be wrong."

The hunter gripped his fists together again before releasing them and replying. "I dunno. When I got there, it was already covered up. Could 'a happened 'fore that though."

"Well, it's more of a rip than a slice, but I suppose it doesn't matter." He titled his head a little before gently placing Faye's pale hand that he had been holding onto her stomach. "Fetch me Maggie, she'll know what I need."

And with that, Hershel got to work.

Faye disliked these dreams. They were weird. And they made her head feel funny. Mainly because they were tiring and went on forever without the girl actually getting anywhere, and every now and again somebody would be walking ahead of her, but she could never quite reach them in time and they disappeared. They were boring. And grey. They were very grey. She vaguely recognised them as the prison corridor grey.

Faye didn't like grey. Grey wasn't really anything. You could feel grey.

Or was that blue? She couldn't remember.

Grey wasn't white. White was too pure for grey. But grey wasn't black either, black was too dark for grey. Grey was neither bad nor good, neither yes or no. It was an in between Faye wasn't quite comfortable with.

Grey was the sky on a moody day. Grey was the prison walls. Grey was the pavement she got slammed against when the men knocked her down-

Faye didn't like grey. Faye didn't like grey. Faye didn't like grey. Faye didn't-

Faye's eyes drifted open to the fuzzy image of a top bunk, a figure sat by her side on the bed. Her head throbbed, a pain she couldn't remember feeling since she had been shot. She was cold too. Why was it so cold? Everywhere was hot in Georgia, it was summer.

Light was flickering into the room. Maybe it was evening, Faye didn't know, but it was good because there was less grey.

A hand brushed over her forehead, where a cool cloth lay, and finally rested on her hair. It was accompanied with a soft voice. "Hey, sweetheart."

Dad always called her sweetheart. Dad was back!

Her voice came out barely more than a whisper, but she hoped it was enough for Dad to hear, because he might leave if he thought she was ignoring him. Faye couldn't stop the childish nickname coming out. "Hey, Daddy."

The girl didn't register the way the hand lying on her head tensed at her words. "H-how you feelin'?"

"Bad. Very bad." The words slurred out and she shut her eyes again. Then she realised Dad might be gone when she woke up, so she opened them again. "It's really cold. My hands feel weird."

"I know, I'm sorry." The hand moved with a second one to cup her shivering fingers. "It's gonna be like that fo' a little while."

"My head hurts, Daddy." Faye complained, shifting slightly to try and get a better look at him with her blurry vision. Dark hair. Dad had dark hair. That was who she got it from. Andy got Mom's brown hair, he was the lucky one, Dad said.

His voice continued to sooth her. "I know, I know."

"Daddy?" Faye asked. When he hummed a reply, she continued. "Where's Andy?"

There was a pause. "Andy?" The child attempted a nod, but in reality she barely moved. "He's busy right now. Maybe he'll see you later."

"I'd like that." It felt like she hadn't seen Andy in years. Faye sighed. Dad was probably supposed to be busy too, but she was keeping him here all to herself. All because she was dumb and stupid and weak and had gotten here all by herself. Now she was bringing Dad down too. That wasn't fair. Maybe if she hadn't been so terrible she wouldn't be making his life worse too.

He saw the way her face crumpled. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart? She didn't deserve sweetheart. "I'm sorry."

Dad frowned, Faye just knew it. Even with her faded vision. If she opened her eyes more, she'd be able to see for sure. "What for?"

Her mumbles were barely coherent, but they were enough. "I'm sorry. I'm wasting your time. You could be busy but I'm keeping you here 'cause I was dumb enough to let them get me and I should've been more careful but I was weak and I'm sorry-"

"No, no, no," He muttered back, a hand returning to rest on her head. "Ain't your fault, ain't none of that your fault. Don't gotta be sorry."

Dad didn't have an accent like that. Maybe she had made him angry. She started again. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, his words apparently not processing properly in her head. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"'Cause I wasn't there. Should a' protected ya better."

"You're always protecting me, Daddy. You're always there." She gave a weak smile, eyes drooping ever more.

"Okay. Okay." He said, tone once again soft. "Sleep, Faye."

She frowned. "Are you gonna be here when I wake up?"

"I'm always there." He replied after a moment of thought. His words made her smile a little, but she ended up repeating herself nonetheless.

"Stay."

"I'm stayin'."

"I love you, Daddy."

His words took a little longer, and Faye was already drifting away into unconsciousness once more, but the soft words were spoken all the same. "Love you too, sweetheart."

The second time Faye woke, everything seemed that much clearer. The pounding in her head had subsided and the shakes were gone. Any memories she possibly had of waking up were fuzzy. The girl vaguely remembered Maggie being there at one point, Hershel another time, and there was one that Faye wasn't even sure happened, the edges of her mind being too blurred.

A soft light fell across the room, quiet and peaceful as Faye stretched her toes and let her head sink back into the pillows. She knew she was in her room without looking around by the pillows, she still had the extra one she had taken two months ago, so it was always slightly softer to sleep on. Daryl had seen, but didn't call her out on it. Rarely was there anyone needed to stay overnight in the medical cell. Nobody, at least, except her.

Suddenly the reality of the situation hit Faye, because she was injured but it was bandaged which meant someone had touched her arm and nobody touched her arm because they had hurt her and nobody was allowed to do that anymore-

Her body tensed as the rushed words flooded her thoughts and the girl was acutely aware of the hand wrapped around her own. Snatching away her fingers, she shot up from her lying down position, fists clenched as one arm helped push her away from the intruder and the other held her left arm protectively. Her eyes were wide like those of a deer facing a car's bright headlights as she hit the back wall.

"Woah, woah," The person said – a boy, with a hat and wide eyes similar to her own, only an electric shade of blue that were accentuated by the evening light. The light also brought out the shadows masking the other side of his face, though. "Faye, calm down, you're at the prison, you're safe."

His words did not calm her down, and did not stop the harsh breaths coming from her mouth. People were dangerous, people wanted to hurt her. He was people. But, he continued.

"Look at me, Faye, are you with me?" He said, voice calmer than before. "Nod if this is getting through, at all."

Faye nodded.

"Where are you?"

It took a few seconds, blinking as the panic began to fade away with his words. Had the child been thinking more straight, she would have loathed the way her voice cracked. "My cell."

"Where's your cell?"

"I-in the prison."

His ever patient voice finally began to sooth. "And who're you with, Faye."

"Carl." She replied instantly. "I'm with Carl."

"That's right." A small smile started to grow on Carl's face, but it was as if he wasn't quite satisfied enough to let it be. "And I'm not gunna hurt you. Okay? You get that?"

Although her body was less tense, Faye stayed in her curled up position. "Carl shouts at me." No, Faye told herself, he was Carl. "You shout at me."

Whatever had started to cheer up his face left as quickly as it came. "I know, I know, and I'm sorry, Faye. I really am."

The blue eyes were sad now. Well done, she had made him sad. Just when he was starting to be happy, she ruined it. All she ever did was ruin things.

Carl continued, unknowing of the words in her head. "But I'm not gunna shout at you anymore. I promise."

It looked, for a moment, as though he was going to try and hug her, but apparently decided against it. Good. Faye didn't want to hug anyone. The boy suddenly blinked, snapping out of the thoughts he had just got into. "Faye, you've got to stop gripping your arm, you're gonna break the stitches and make it worse. Hershel only just got the swelling down."

Oh God, they had stuck a needle in her arm. They were trying to make everything worse 'cause they stabbed her with a freaking needle and it wasn't safe anywhere-

Seeing that she was only gripping the wound harder, Carl finally moved from the makeshift seat by the bed to the mattress. His hand reached up for her, but Faye smacked it away because the last time someone went for her face they slapped her and it stung like hell-

Before she could hit it back, Carl's other hand reached up and Faye sucked in a breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she waited for an impact that never truly came. Instead, his hand cupped her face, thumb rubbing softly against her cheek. Her green eyes opened to meet his again, tears beginning to well up. "Faye, look at me." She was. "None of us are here to hurt you. Not me, not Hershel, not anybody. We wanna help make it better. You've gotta trust me, Faye."

All the words he had said to her in the heat of their argument were swirling around in the back of the child's mind, but all she could focus on was the gentle hand against her face. Then his gaze left hers again and Faye suddenly realised he had been holding the hand previously gripping her bandaged arm. She flinched at the contact but the boy started doing the circles with his thumb again.

His words were quiet and slow, as if he were speaking to a frightened rabbit.

(Or a frightened bird.)

"Come on, lie down, Faye." The hand left her cheek, and part of her longed to have it back, but the other part was wishing it had never been there. Faye didn't know which want was larger.

Obeying his instructions, the girl found herself on her side, good arm against the mattress as she faced Carl. His hand, however, stayed around hers. But Faye couldn't hold his hand, talk to him and look at him all at once. It was too much too fast. "What happened?" She croaked out, shutting her eyes.

"Patrick got me, told me you were acting weird." Patrick. He said he wouldn't get an adult, so he got Carl. Smart. "You blacked out and hit your head, plus there was the fever. Hershel tried to make the medicine the right amount for you, but he didn't get it totally right and you've been out since midday yesterday. It's evening now." As if sensing her next question, he continued. "Daryl's out on watch, but he'll probably be back soon. He only leaves when he has to, and that's when I come."

Carl did most of the talking, which Faye was more than comfortable with. She almost forgot they had ever fallen out, but she knew they had to talk about it. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"What for?"

"We argued. I was a bitch. I'm sorry."

"You weren't a bitch. You aren't a bitch." He sighed. "I'm the sorry one, Faye, I said a lot of stuff that was out of line. If something had happened and you didn't come back-" He stopped himself. Something had happened, and she almost didn't come back. She wasn't completely back now. "I wouldn't have forgiven myself."

"I said some bad things too." She replied. He wasn't the only one to blame, Faye knew she could get carried away when she was mad.

Faye couldn't see it, her eyes still closed, but the half-smile was back. "How 'bout we call it even then?"

She nodded. She was tired now. "Alright."

Carl could see she was starting to drift off again. "I'm gunna stay right here, okay, Faye?" She nodded again. "You're not alone. I'm not going anywhere."

Her hand relaxed completely in his hold.

She believed him. She believed in him.

Author's Note:

Ah! She's back!

Well, I've got a weeks holiday free now, so I will be updating on Saturday for definite! This weeks chapter is something you might recognise from one Season 4 finale...

Anyway, thank you for sticking with me while I get into the swing of things at school. Updates have been later, but that means I have had time to do school work and revise for tests - and so far I haven't gotten below an A. So, I haven't been making you wait for no reason. I can't put it into words how much I love you guys!

As for a question about who I see Faye as, like her face claim, I have actually never thought about it. I have drawn Faye, I know exactly what she looks like, and I don't really know a celebrity to compare her to. Maybe I'll do some thinking about that.

Until Saturday, then!

Please review, I love to hear your thoughts and advice.

Thanks.

Cobalt Flame.