They make me wait out back in the garden of Deanna's house - except it's not Deanna's anymore. At least, that's what Dean mentioned as we drove back into Alexandria.

I remember sitting out here before. The first time I ever stepped foot into this community. Not much has changed, I note. Brick on the ground, trees bloomed in soft greens, flowers, and plants thriving in their flower pots.

Yelling sounds from inside and a heavy breath escapes me as I rest my arms on my knees. The people of Alexandria walk by on the street, cheerful conversations filling the warm air.

A little over a year later and I still feel the same as I did the first day I set foot here.

Nerves have my muscles clenched, stomach knotted, and breaths tight. I dig my fingers into the fresh bruises blossoming over my sun-kissed skin.

My gaze wanders to the back door. The curtains are shut, shadows dancing behind them. I know what has to happen. It's been obvious from the moment the others laid eyes on me, the moment the Winchesters and Cas found me. They want an answer to the question everyone's dying to know.

What did I do during this last year?

A shiver runs down my spine and I curl more into myself. Anxiety's vicious tendrils have sunk its fangs deep into my veins, poisoning me with its doubts and fears. I squeeze my hands into fists; hold it and then release. I repeat the motion, waiting for the tautly stretched skin to turn white before releasing. There's a horrifying storm brewing in me - one that will wreak havoc when unleashed.

I draw in a shaky breath, through the nose, counting to three before releasing it with more control. Minutes pass, the repetitive motions placating the darkness brewing inside me.

"Aria?"

Taking my eyes off my clenched hands, I look up the white porch steps. Sam stands inside the open back door with a smile that is a little twisted - caught between reassurance and concern.

I take the steps slowly, hoping that Sam won't notice the sudden tremble in my legs. My heart thumps hard and violent in my chest as I take note of the people in the room. The people I called family at some point. People that I still want to call family if they'll let me.

The air is warm - comforting, despite the fact that there was an argument minutes ago. However, a note of hesitation lingers in everyone's gazes.

Rick and Michonne stand together with their arms crossed, almost shoulder to shoulder. Maggie sits on the couch, legs crossed, her hair the length it was when I first met her. Dean stands opposite of Sam and me in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets. Our eyes meet and the slight upturn of his lips eases the rapid beat of my heart.

The last person to join us is an outsider - the same guy who stopped me in the woods and led us to this moment.

Jesus is average height with long hair that reaches past his shoulders - a rich chestnut brown that frames a thick-bearded face with gorgeous green eyes. They're piercing, inquisitive, but in a way that speaks of genuine interest and not searching for exploitation.

He leans against a window, dressed in a pale blue button up and baggy cargo pants. I avoid him, hoping that Rick will ask him to leave. I'm already panicking about having to talk about this. The last thing I want to do is admit all my sins in front of a stranger.

I enter the room, legs shaking as I lean back against the bookcase lining the wall.

The layout hasn't changed much from what I remember. The large leather couch still faces the solo sofa chair, but the room is better kept than last time. All the books that would be huddled in corners are now tucked away in neat stacks or extra shelving. There is also a large dining room table behind the couch. If Deanna is dead and this place is the central command center of Alexandria, then it makes for the perfect meeting table.

I stare at the dark floorboards, a sense of entrapment creeping on me. It's their stares. My skin itches, uncomfortable with all the attention. They want answers. I know that, but god, I don't want to give them what they want.

Let the past be the past, right? I'm desperate to put it all behind me, to erase that year and go on as though it never existed. But that's not how life operates. There is no do-over. No second chance. You live with your choices, and either accept them and how they change you, or you live in a vicious cycle of self-loathing, wishing for it all to end.

"Aria, you're not in trouble, but we need to talk about some things."

Rick's demeanor is cold - the cop interrogating his suspect. It's unnerving to be on the receiving side of that gaze with all the history between us. So much has changed. The whole group is different. I am too. A year is no small gap. A lot can happen to change a person, turn them into someone you don't recognize. They are aware of that, and yet I wonder if they can still recognize me.

My hands fidget at my sides, eyes glued to the floorboards. I hate that my voice sounds worn thin, my nerves obvious when I ask, "What do you want to know?"

There is no skipping this. No more running. It's all I want to do, though. Epinephrine floods my veins, instinct screaming to run while I still can. But my legs won't stop trembling and my chest is tight and I'm so fucking exhausted.

I don't know anything anymore. Who these people are to me, what I'm feeling, who I am - I don't fucking know.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

A ghost of a smile plays on my lips. I'm glad that he still uses the three questions. They help form a decent impression of the individual you are dealing with. Only unlike the strangers of this world, I know these questions and I'm dreading my answers.

"You know I don't keep count, Rick." The corner of his mouth curls up and some of the ice fades from his gaze and easing my nerves.

The others all watch me, listening with eager ears. I catch Jesus in my peripheral. His eyebrows are drawn together, deep in thought with a quizzical expression.

"Fair enough. How many people have you killed?"

My foot bounces against the floor, a steady tap, tap filling the silence. There's a lump in my throat, and I try to breathe but it doesn't go away. I lean forward resting my arms on the light grey chair.

Faces flash through my mind, screaming filling my ears as red taints my vision. My stomach rolls uneasily with those feelings rushing through me once again. This time though, they feel anything but good. I clasp my hands, hiding the shaking, and squeeze tight.

"When?" My question shaky before clearing my throat to try again. This time my voice is unwavering, only a hint of those nerves going wild inside me. "Before the apocalypse, after, or when I was gone?"

"When you were gone," he answers.

I grimace, the amount more than I know. "A lot."

"Define a lot." My gaze shoots to Jesus, his bearded mouth pulled into a tight line, uncertainty written in his features as his question waits to be answered.

The memory of smoke and iron hits me and I clench my teeth. "Enough to be defined as a-"

The word gets lodged in my throat, frustration starting to build. I stare hard at the seat of the chair I'm leaning against, wondering why I can't bring myself to say it when I know it's true.

I'm a monster and yet that word feels wrong on my tongue, refusing to be spoken. It's true, though. It's the only thing about me that I know for certain. The blood on my hands does not stop with evil people. There are the innocent souls possessed by demons. People I tortured for information that I didn't have to. There are the men I killed in the military, the people I killed when the diabolic Mark branded my skin. It's all too big, especially after this last year.

A heavy sigh escapes me. "It's just a lot."

Jesus's lips turn down into a deeper frown. Rick, Maggie, and Michonne share a look, uneasy with the admission. Sam and Dean, however, wear blank faces, unfazed by my words. But they know more than the others. Not much, but they have a piece of the puzzle whereas the others have none.

"Why?" Rick questions and that single word feels like it's my only saving grace. If I was on the other side and doing the questioning, I wouldn't take me in.

So, the question floats around in my head. Why did I do what I did?

My gaze remains trained downwards, refusing to make eye contact while blood-soaked earth, that pungent iron scent plaguing the air with a hint of gunpowder fills my every thought. There is no justifying what I did. All the people that have died by my hand, there was never a good enough reason for why I killed them.

"I'm not proud of what I did," I start, hands clasped tight enough to turn the skin a ghostly white. "I don't have an answer to why Rick. I killed to protect before and I kept telling myself that that was a good reason. But the numbers just grew and I don't know anymore if what I did was to keep others safe or because I wanted to."

There is no coming back from what you did.

I push off the chair, standing again as I face the people I once called family. This is my judgment that I have to accept. Right now, I'm an outsider looking to join the group. I'm not the sister they fought side by side with. No, I'm another damaged soul seeking solace in a haunted world.

Everyone's faces are grim, my words ringing true for each of us, I realize. Rick glances over at Michonne, the two speaking with simple looks.

Seeing them together is a good surprise to come back to. I'm glad they found each other in the end. They keep one another balanced, pulling each other back from that blurred line we all walk.

Rick releases a low breath, and I finally meet his gaze. His hands are on his hips, words stern as he requests, "We need to know what happened while you were gone, Aria."

Dean shakes his head, huffing under his breath. His glare is vicious, aimed at the ex-cop. It seems the two are at odds all the time. I wonder if this tension is because of the events of this morning or if this goes farther back.

Either way, the heated glare only adds to the tension, putting me more on edge.

"Why?" I ask, hoping to distract Dean but also avoid this whole topic. There's no choice, I know that, but I can't face this last year. How do I tell them something that I can't even think about yet?

"Aria, you're family to all of us. I wouldn't be asking this of you if things were what they used to be, but it has changed. It's no longer just us. You attacked someone today. That someone is a part of something bigger than Alexandria. We trade with other groups now. There's a council."

He bites his lip, scratching at his beard before he starts again. There's a hesitation with his next words, saying, "You were gone a year. We need to know what happened - where you were, what you did, how did you get rid of the Mark? I can't let you keep that to yourself, I'm sorry."

Anxiety coursed through my veins, making me a tightly wound ball. I still need to sort all this shit out. How the hell am I supposed to tell them what I did when I'm not even sure of it? My dreams are plagued with foreign faces and red. I pace a bit, feeling those intense eyes of Jesus on me.

I meet them, noting a faint hint of recognition. My heart races, a spike of anger having me turn on my friend. "Ask yourself this first, Rick. Are you sure you can handle what I tell you? Because you are right, things are not what they used to be. They are so fucking different." It's an icy anger, a sharp bite that stings in the stunned silence.

My breaths are heavy, heart slamming against my ribs. I clench my hands, letting my blunt nails dig into the flesh of my palms. Wide eyes stare at me which stokes the sudden inferno in my veins.

"Aria," Sam murmurs, soothing. Looking over at him, he's calm. The instant rage bubbling under my skin doesn't deter him. He doesn't say anything. Our gazes are locked, and it's unconscious as I start breathing along with him.

How long this goes on for is unknown because one minute I'm thirsting for blood and the next I'm trembling in exhaustion.

"Fuck," I mutter, leaning down against the chair once more, clenching and unclenching my hands as I wait for the fire to die in my veins.

Everything inside me is still so foreign thanks to a year of no emotions because the Mark ate them up. It's like puberty all over again but ten times more intense. I don't know what triggers are going to affect me. I'm stuck on an emotional rollercoaster that breaks the world's record for highest drops.

"Aria," Maggie starts, her southern lilt tender as she reassures. "Whatever you did, we can handle it."

Not this.

I sunk to my lowest to accomplish what I did. There's dirty and then there's downright fucking filth and I'm lower than that. Admitting what happened...nobody will ever be able to look at me the same.

Yet, I came here of my own free will. I want this second chance. I want redemption so damn bad. Nothing else in the world matters as long as I can at least try to get what I threw away a year ago.

I glance at Sam and Dean seeing both brothers aching for me. These last couple of months gave them a glimpse into what I became, but they've witnessed the nightmares. It's not enough to come close to piecing together what I've done. However, it gives them an idea - a small one, but an idea nonetheless.

Daryl will hear about it.

Shaking my head, I turn my back on them as I look out the window. My thoughts debate one another, bringing on a dull ache to my temples.

Part of me believes that they don't need to know. Everything has been taken care of. I was thorough with my work, with the job I gave myself. This is just for their benefit. But that's a lie. This isn't for their benefit but mine. I have to talk about this. Secrets lead to more problems, and as much as I want to erase this last year, I can't. It's a part of me. Facing it is the only way to salvage the remnants of my tainted soul.

"If I tell you, promise me that it stays between us."

"What about the others?" Michonne asks and I turn away from the window.

"I'll tell them when I'm ready to."

They all look to one another, silently debating. After a moment of silence, Rick nods. "I can promise you that we will keep it secret." Those crisp eyes are unwavering, steadfast and honest.

No turning back now.

"You might want to sit for this."

A/N:

Dun, dun, duuunn. The suspense continues to build. Her big bad secret is about to come out. Do you think the others can handle it?

Hope you are all excited for the next update!