AN: OK, I'm not going to lie. Battle scenes are hard to write, at least for me. I feel like the visionary aspect of television makes them much easier. I did the best I could, though, and I hope it at least gets the point across. I know it's not the best, but I hope it will do.

I am going to have some fluff for you for a bit. It's been heavy for a few chapters and I think we all need a break.

Again, I apologize if you're not pleased with this chapter. It was hard to write and isn't what I wanted entirely, but for now it's what I can offer you. Again, action really isn't my strong point.

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Breakfast was silent for everyone. No one really wanted to chat about what they were going to do. It was already clear that everyone was going to eat, gather their weapons, and they would leave the community in one large mass, only splitting into their smaller groups as they neared the school where their battle would begin.

It was also no secret that everyone was nervous. Most of them wore it painted on their faces. Others were keeping close to their loved ones.

Carol knew her work would begin as soon as they left. She was going to start getting things ready, giving Mark time to take a nap. Michonne had offered to stay up and help her with as much as she could, though Carol had tried to tell her that she needed to sleep. Michonne protested that she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, knowing they were all out there, and if she kept watch over the babies that would mean that it would also free Carl up to help Carol arrange whatever she had in mind for the make shift hospital area that she was turning headquarters into at the time.

Carol looked sadly on the group. She could only hope that when they came back, they all came back, and that they only brought with them wounds that she could treat. She didn't think they could bear the losses right now. She cursed a little the sad state of the breakfast that she was serving them, worried that it might be the last meal for some.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 1111

Michonne, Mark, Carol, and Carl waited by the gates as everyone gathered there, straggling up, some still loading their weapons, some still strapping them on. Sadie and her group were doubly armed to prepare for the need to pass weapons to the new people that they would encounter to fight with them.

Michonne held Hope and the baby while Judith stood beside her. Her other three companions stepped outside the gate, taking out whatever Walkers started ambling up.

As people passed through, everyone said goodbye. It was a light goodbye, as though none of them wanted to admit in the slightest that they might not be passing back through these gates again. Just inside, Sadie stopped to rub the top of baby Paul's head and reached a hand up to touch Michonne on the cheek, smiling at her. She'd stop again momentarily to tell those outside goodbye as well. Tyreese stopped outside to kiss Carol and Daryl lingered a moment, hugging Michonne to him, careful not to squish either of the children in her arms. He kissed her and then kissed Hope on the forehead who didn't seem to understand why he wouldn't take her.

"You stay with ya ma right now, Daddy's gon' be back later," he said, rubbing her head. "Love ya, 'Chonne," Daryl said.

"I love you too," Michonne said, fighting back tears. "Come back?"

"Always," Daryl said with a smile. "We just gotta go do this right now, 'Chonne, but we'll be back 'fore ya know it."

Michonne smiled at him, but she didn't say anything. She watched him pass, with the others, out of the gates and across the street, slowly disappearing into the woods.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 11

Daryl hung back a bit with his group, selecting carefully the trees that they would get in. They needed to be close enough to hit targets, but well hidden enough to remain unseen warriors in the battle. He felt strange not taking his place as close to the line of fire as Rick's group had chosen, but they were sticking with the formation that Sadie had described to them, no one really feeling confident enough to come with another plan.

He scurried into his tree, lifting his binoculars to get a better view of everyone else. He could barely see Sadie's group off to the side, still hidden in the trees, waiting for her to give the command to move forward. Turning in the other direction, and looking around Beau, he could barely see Maggie, who was also waiting a moment to take her group in.

Rick was just below Beau, his entire group well covered for the moment's time.

In the yard of the school, two men patrolled. Daryl thought they looked tired, and he wondered if they could pick them off before Rick even started the fake negotiations that were to take place. That would take two people out, but it may also make it more difficult for Sadie and Maggie to do what they had planned, so he decided not to sniper the two men.

Just as Daryl noticed Sadie making her way with her group, all moving slowly and low to the ground to draw as little attention as possible, he realized that Rick must have seen it as well. Rick had begun to call out to the men that were guarding. Trying to catch their attention and draw them in, away from any chance of noticing either of the groups that were moving forward, each with a leader that was responsible for cutting fences and keeping their helpers from being attacked by Walkers.

Daryl paid no attention to the words that Rick was exchanging with the other men. They weren't of any importance anyway, just hollow lies that Rick had thrown together to buy time. Daryl was more focused on Sadie's group, since it was the one that would give the signal to start the entire thing. He had to call down to Rick whenever it was time, and then the battle would be on. The plan was kill anyone who wasn't with their group, or wasn't one of the tagged "new" members that Sadie brought out. He only hoped he could easily identify the new ones from his perch and didn't snag anyone not destined to die. He had already come to terms with the fact that this group could contain any number of women and children, and if they shot against his people, they had to be shot. That was just the way that the world was, as unfair as it seemed.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 11111

Sadie's group had moved quickly, and they'd gotten inside. Once they'd emerged with the people that she'd gone in to find, she flagged Daryl's group from the far end of the fenced area with a white cloth that she'd worn tucked in her belt. That was the signal. The fake, and somewhat forced, discussion below was no longer necessary. They were ready. The slaughter must begin.

Daryl whistled quietly to Rick, once, twice, three times. Then he raised the rifle he was carrying, took aim, and fired at one of the guards that was talking to Rick. Almost simultaneously a shot rang out from somewhere which dropped the other. Now they only had to wait for the others to spill into the yard.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 111111

Slowly at first the yard began to fill with others who came to investigate the shots they'd heard ring out. The first handful of individuals that ventured out did so timidly, not knowing where the shots came from or what they meant. They hadn't been alerted by their guards, so they had no immediate reason to assume that they were under attack.

That was lucky, and the group didn't waste any time in clearing out those that trickled out at first. Barely had the doors they came from closed before they were picked off, the source of the bullets unknown equally to those who dealt them and to those who received them.

The second round to emerge, however, after the gunfire was less timid. It was probably clear, then, that the gunshots were not random and not fired haphazardly in some surrounding area. They rushed out in a mob, running toward the fence, firing into the wooded area, where Rick and his group were seeking cover and firing from behind their chosen trees.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Rick knew that the plan was that his group would stay protected, behind the trees, taking out the other group's members that were closest to the fence, until they saw Sadie who was supposed to cut the fences in front of them to allow them passage. It was a suicide position, and he knew that much, but he suspected that she did too.

Rick was also beginning to worry that things had gone sour inside the fences. They were steady picking off people, and he knew for a fact that no one in his group was hit, nor was anyone above them, but he knew nothing about those on the inside. They were supposed to be fighting from behind, coming toward those of them in the front, but he couldn't see any of them. He couldn't distinguish any noises or any voices, except that once he'd heard the sound of what he called Maggie's "battle cry" ringing through the air. That was the only sound that had carried so far, over all the gunfire and shouting.

Finally he saw Sadie emerge from the crowd. For a moment he saw her locked in a hand to hand fight with a man that had somehow caught her. It looked bad for a moment and instinctively Rick had run forward, firing a shot into the man's skull, and dropping back behind the tree that had been offering him cover.

Sadie had rushed forward, starting quickly to cut the fences, just as she'd promised she would do, and suddenly he realized that at least three of them were attempting to cover her. She made her way, cutting the fence to a point where someone could squeeze through, and Rick rushed forward, realizing how many Walkers were descending upon them, luckily most were driven by the blood of the dying to flocking the fence. As he tried to come through the hole, Sadie reached around him hacking at the Walkers that threatened to grab at him. He threw her a "thank you" before making it fully inside and launching out into battle with the others around him, unaware now of what his group was doing. He only later realized that she hadn't heard his thanks and hoped he could repeat them later, when she would be aware of them.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 111111111

Daryl watched as so much happened below them. They were taking out as many people as they could, reloading as quickly has hands and fingers would allow. People in the fenced in area were dropping quickly, and he'd seen Rick's group move in, one at a time, dropping even more. The people he could see still fighting were familiar to him and he felt optimistic, at least for moment, trying to ignore the carnage surrounding him.

They were winning, they were wiping out the threat, and his people were mostly standing, still fighting…sometimes hand to hand, sometimes with guns, but they were fighting.

Daryl finally thought it was time to take his group in, time to help those that were more exhausted inside the fences. He whistled to his crew and got down from his perch, recognizing that they were coming behind him. He quickly made his way toward the hole that had been prepared for them, stabbing the approaching Walkers as quickly as they came.

Inside the fences, the damage was obvious. The air was thick with gun smoke and the smell of blood. Daryl had to keep his wits about him to step over the bodies, some dead, others injured, and to fight those that approached him, eager to gain some sort of vengeance for the slaughter that had occurred here…a slaughter brought on by his people.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 111

"There's a lot here," Mark said to Carol, having organized as well as he could the contents of the hospital bags that they had brought back. "I don't know what we'll see, but we're prepared for anything that I think I could handle."

They'd arranged headquarters in such a way that the kitchen would serve to treat two at a time. There really wasn't more room than that available, and not really more hands that could do too much patching up. The living area would be a type of holding bin, not knowing really what they would be facing.

Michonne had offered, though exhausted, to prepare some kind of meal. They would be starving and she knew those that came back from battle would be famished. She tried to busy herself in preparation, trying not to pay attention to the time displayed by the sky nor to the time that she felt her body trying to keep track of. They'd be back, and everyone there had to be ready. To think anything else would be to drive each and every one of them to insanity with worry over those they cared about.

They'd be back, they'd all be back.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 11

It seemed like a dizzying amount of time had passed when Tyreese gladly separated the head from the body of the man that he'd come up against last. He stood there, for a moment, aware that he was sticky in blood from the conflict. In the dirty air around him he saw only familiar faces, and none that were aiming at him nor running at him with any number of assorted weapons that he'd seen throughout the day.

He was also aware that he ached. Everything inside him throbbed. He didn't want to believe, for even a moment, that they'd exhausted what this camp had to offer. There was a heavy moment where everyone and everything was silent. No one stirred even a muscle. Finally it was done, the deed was done, and everyone started stumbling about again, hugging those that were still standing, not even noticing the sticky coat of human blood that covered most everyone.

The battle had been exhausting. It had been something that all of them had tried to go at blindly. Kill or be killed, but don't think about it. That had been the motto. It seemed as though it had worked, though.

Tyreese watched as Daryl and a few others went about, trying to stab the heads of all those who were enemies but weren't yet dead, as well as those who were dead, but they didn't need coming back as Walkers.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 11111111

"I'll take him," Sadie said to Rick, approaching him in the field of bodies. "I owe it to him," she said.

Rick moved out of her way and watched as she angrily drove her machete into one of the deceased. Rick decided not to question her about her aggression and moved on to another body.

Daryl followed closely behind Rick, assuring that everyone was down that needed to be put down. Out of the five people that Sadie had reported that they would rescue, Daryl could already count that he had put down three, their flags tied around their arms and their injuries having already brought on death. He wondered if they'd bring anyone knew out of this, until he saw Sadie waving her flag and trying to draw attention.

Daryl wandered over to where she was. The man she was standing over was injured, but Daryl didn't judge it to be fatal immediately, thinking that it was only a small side wound at best. He was flagged.

"He's hurt," she said, "but not dead."

The man moved then and Daryl realized they hadn't planned yet how they would evacuate the injured ones they intended to try to keep alive.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 1111

The group moved the injured the best they could, most of them being piled on doors or any such other debris that they could scavenge from the place as gurneys. They had a distance to trek with them, and those that were carrying the injured had to be backed up by those that would flank them and kill the Walkers that approached, drawn by the sound of gunfire and the smell of blood.

Out of the other group, Daryl thought, they'd only rescued one. The others had died, and one was inexplicably missing. Out of their own group, a few were injured, but he hadn't judged them to be fatal. No one was gut shot, at least. The worst he saw was Maggie, and he feared that at the worst she would lose the use of her right arm, but he had faith that Mark and Carol wouldn't let that happen.

As they slumped back through the woods, supporting the injured as best they could and keeping the Walkers at bay, there was a feeling of victory mixed with that of guilt because of the slaughter that they had left behind. They fully intended to return another day, the sinking sun not in their favor today, to raid the camp, so everyone that had been killed or injured that didn't belong to their group had been put down. It had been such a staggering sight that no one had bothered to count the casualties. No one had wanted to give such a tally to the humanity of their group.

At this point no one wanted more than to make it back with those that were injured, see them patched up, eat something, and sink into beds, trying to forget the carnage they'd seen. Daryl was among that number, grateful that he'd suffered no injuries, but more than a little sorry for all the blood that had been shed.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Michonne had taken the position of handling those that were injured, but not seriously injured enough to have come back through the gates unescorted. She had no idea what she was doing, but while Mark and Carol did their part dealing with some bullet wounds and severe gashes, she'd done what she could cleaning and bandaging minor cuts and scrapes and even handling a few stitches. She was surprise when Glenn, who had suffered a decent gash to the side but had insisted on helping Maggie back, didn't protest at all to her five stiches and the declaration that they would watch the wound for infection.

Most who had come back had eaten something, whether by their own accord or by having the food brought to them. Michonne was more than happy to deliver food, elated that they had suffered no casualties, at least to people that they knew.

Out of the group they'd gone to rescue, one had survived, that was all, but at least the threat of the hostile group was gone and so far there was no more mourning to be done in the community than there was before they'd exited the gates that morning.

Those who were uninjured, or relatively uninjured, took those they could move back to their homes. They made sure they were comfortable before heading somewhere to collapse themselves.

Everyone who had gone out looked exhausted, and Michonne could second their emotion. She'd even been responsible for cleaning and dressing a small knife wound which had required a few stitches for Daryl. He'd protested her worry the entire time saying it was nothing, and that he'd suffered far worse. She didn't doubt it, but his hissing at the three stitches in his shoulder were still more than she wanted to hear.

Finally when it surreally seemed like the threat was over and everyone was "resting," Michonne found herself collapsing into one of the chairs in headquarters.

"Let's go to bed," she heard Carol say, her voice seeming distant. "I need it and you need it to, come on."

Michonne felt Carol tug at her, pull her to her feet. She couldn't believe it was time to go to bed, even as they stepped into the pitch blackness of the night. She didn't know what time it was, didn't know how long they'd been patching things up, but just the thought that was over didn't seem quite right.

Michonne leaned on the other woman, though in her mind she knew that Carol was exhausted too. Anytime there was anything to support her weight, she tried to pull herself off of Carol's delicate frame, afraid she might weigh too much for her to support.

The last thing she remembered was sinking into the bed, though she had little memory of how she'd arrived all the way there.

Daryl was snoring, and she helped Carol get herself out of as much of her clothing as was possible, fighting off the sleep that was invading her senses. Daryl's arm had almost instinctively closed in upon her, drawing her near him, and she had wanted nothing more than to give up entirely and sink into that comfort. He had come back. They had all come back. At this moment it felt like it must be a dream that the threat was over and they could once again just relax and bask in what they had built together…but even if it was a dream, it was one she wanted to enjoy for a bit. She felt the coolness of Carol's lips on her forehead, and heard her whisper something, though she couldn't make out what, just as she'd slipped entirely into the feeling that was enveloping her.