Blaire

Almost immediately after I return from the infirmary, there is a knock on the door. I have half a mind to stay seated on the couch; my foot propped up on the arm and just let whoever it is go away. Yet, as the second knock comes, I get up and hobble to the front door, pulling it open. Outside is a woman in a floral print cardigan, a container of what looks like cookies held in one hand. I recognize her from the dinner party at Rick's.

"We need to talk."

"About what?" I inquire, leaning against the door. Pete assured me that it was just a bad sprain, but my ankle definitely feels broken. /p

"The women who I remember as Carol frowns, "Daryl."

Sighing, I move out of the way, allowing Carol access to the house, "Come in."

Carol follows me into the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the bar as I grab a glass of water and another ice pack from the freezer. Pete gave me a few of them from his supplies but made me promise I'd return them after my ankle was feeling better. He also sent me home with some more pain medication. "So what about Daryl did you want to talk about?"

"He came by to see me after you two got back, said you had a disagreement," Carol responds, leaving her statement open-ended, probably in hopes that I'll add on. What happened between Daryl and me today should stay between the two of us. "He told me that you think he saved you."

"He did. He was the one who decided to bring me back here." I answer, shifting around in the chair as I try to get comfortable.

Carol nods, "I'm not here to debate that point. How much do you know about Daryl's past?"

"He told me a significant amount about Beth. I know he had a brother, Merle, who he killed. He's not told me about it, but it's fairly evident that Daryl has had some history of abuse. Other than that I don't know much. He's not really someone who shares his life."

Once again I get a nod, "He told me that you see him. Do you know what that means?"

"I'm an observer, Carol. I'm good at reading people, figuring out the hidden meaning behind what they're saying or doing. Daryl's difficult, but I'm starting to pick up on things. He wants to be close to people, but something is holding him back. Whatever that is, it causes him to push me away." I respond, readjusting the ice pack on my ankle. "I'm not sure where all this is going though."

"Daryl is different, but I'm sure you already know that. He's tough as nails, but under that, he just wants a place to belong...a family. Daryl wants to have hope. Towards the beginning our group got caught in a herd, my daughter went missing. Even after everyone else wanted to give up, Daryl wouldn't stop looking for her. One day, he came back to camp with this flower and told me this really lovely story about it blooming for my Sophia. Up until we found her, he never doubted that she was still alive." Carol reaches her hand across the table, taking mine. "Daryl isn't the kind of guy that lets people in. He'll put you through hell before he's ready to open up, but once he does, once he trusts you, you'll be in his heart for life. Daryl needs someone who can put up with that, someone who isn't going to back down just because he gets angry and yells sometimes. Can you handle that, Blaire?"

"I'm not one to back down from a challenge. If Daryl is looking for someone to put up with his shit so be it. I just hope he realizes that I'm not afraid to push back." I answer, keeping my eyes focused on Carol's. I might not know him as well as the others, but I'm not just going to give up on the person who saved me. I owe Daryl and if the only way to repay him is to let him work through his issues by yelling at me, I'll put up with it. I'm sure I've been through worse.

"That's good," Carol answers. "Did Pete say your ankle was going to be okay? Daryl told me you fell into a pond."

I nod, letting myself relax now that I feel the conversation has become less serious. I even risk smiling a little. "I've never been the most coordinated person. Pete said it was just a sprain. I'm supposed to stay off of it as much as possible. We'll see if that happens."

Carol returns my smiles, squeezing my hand as she gets up, "Don't be stubborn. Listen to what Pete says."

"Oh," I get up off the chair, letting my ice pack fall to the ground as I hobble into the living room. "Daryl left his cigarettes here. Would you mind giving them back to him? I'd do it myself, but I think it's best I give him some time."

Carol nods, putting the package in her pocket before opening the front door. "Try and rest that ankle. If you need anything I'm the house right next to Rick's."

"Thank you, Carol," I answer, shutting the door after her.

Sleep comes easy.

The next morning I stand next to a van with Tara and a few other members of Rick's group. The power has been spotty since I arrived due to the supply being a prototype or something. Tara tried explaining the whole thing on the walk over, but I only understood parts of it. All I know is that this team is going out to try and find parts to keep the solar panels up and running. As we walk over to the garages where the cars are kept we pass Daryl and Aaron, headed out on their trip. According to Deanna, they could be gone anywhere from a few days up to a week.

"You're sure you don't want me to come along?" I question Tara as she climbs into the back of the van.

She leans forward and hugs me, "You just hold down the fort here. We'll be back by the end of the day. Stay off your ankle."

Letting out a sigh, I step back as the van's back doors are pulled shut and obnoxiously loud techno music is switched on. With Daryl and Tara gone, I'm left with a group of people I barely know. I've not done much to get close to the other members of Rick's group. They all seem to have their own lives here and I just don't see where I fit in. Tara reassured me that the others, though still cautious of new people, want to get to know me. I still can't help but feel like the odd man out.

"Hey, Blaire, a group of us are doing lunch at my house, you should stop by," a woman with shoulder-length brown hair smiles at me from her spot against the garage. I know she's with the Asian man but I can't remember her name. I think it starts with an 'M' or something like that.

"Sure. Should I bring anything?"

"Just yourself," the women answers giving me another warm smile. "We're in the first set of townhomes by the gate. Come by around two."

"Will do. Thanks – " I trail off wishing I had a better memory for names.

"Maggie." The dark haired women answers before turning and walking back towards the front of Alexandria.

Although Maggie told me I didn't need to bring anything with me, I load up my backpack with a few cans of vegetables and some chocolate spread before heading over. It isn't much, but I figure sharing what I brought with this new group might score me some points. When I arrive, the door is propped open, the smell of pasta sauce floating out into the street. It appears I'm one of the last ones to arrive. Rosita, Carol, Michonne, and Deanna are already situated around the table. I drop my bag at the door, deciding to give Maggie the food once Deanna has left.

"What happened to your ankle?" Rosita questions as I settle into the seat between her and Carol.

"I fell into a pond while I was out yesterday," I answer as Maggie puts a pot of pasta down in the middle of the table.

"Did you go out there by yourself?" Deanna asks, dishing up her plate.

"No, I was with Daryl. He was teaching me to shoot the crossbow."

Rosita huffs as she fills her plate with pasta. "He sure does spend a lot of time with you."

"Well, Rick did make him my babysitter," I answer. "I'm sure he'd spend time with you too if you asked."

Carol smirks as Rosita rolls her eyes, "I'm good."

"He's just trying to make sure that Blaire is settling in. We all know how difficult it can be to adjust to a new place after being out there," Maggie cuts in. "How are you doing with adjusting, Blaire?"

"The first few days were a little tough, but I'm getting used to everything. I hope to be able to start helping out around the community soon," I answer, glancing over at Deanna.

The woman smiles, "I'm still thinking about a job for you. From what I've heard you've been helping with guard duty."

"Yeah, Tara and Abraham have brought me out with them. I offered to go on the run today, but Tara told me they had it covered."Deanna nods, "It's good that you want to get involved."

Once everyone has dished up we fall into a comfortable silence. For the first time since I arrived in Alexandria, I feel like I'm being accepted into the group.

As the sun begins to sink, I start to worry about Tara and the rest of the team that left on the run. I don't think anyone expected them to be gone this long. After everyone else left the pasta lunch, I stay behind, offering to help Maggie clean up. She does a better job at concealing her feelings, but I can tell she's worried too.

"How long have you and Glenn been together?" I question as we move to sit outside. Alexandria's gate can be seen from the yard and Maggie keeps her eyes set on it.

"About a year now. He proposed when we were at the - " Maggie trails off as the front gate slides open, the van driving through.

Almost instantly I can tell something isn't right. The second the van comes to a stop the back doors are thrown open, two people getting out, a body held between them. Maggie and I take off towards the entrance. Glenn instantly embraces Maggie, the two holding each other for a few seconds before Maggie pulls away.

"What happened?"

Glenn frowns, "One of the walkers in the factory had explosives on them. It went off. Tara got hurt. We lost Aiden and Noah."

"How did this happen?"

"Not out here." Glenn glances over at me. "You're part of the group now, you should hear this too."

The three of us walk back up the street, only speaking again once the front door to Glenn and Maggie's townhome is closed. Glenn slumps down in the kitchen chair, his elbows resting on his knees, face in his hands. I sit quietly as Glenn tells us about Tara's head wound and how Aiden got impaled. He explains how the group tried to get him out, but that it just wasn't possible. The worst was hearing about Noah. I didn't know him, but Tara and he were close. Glenn tears up as he explains that the whole group could have made it out if Nicholas just trusted the plan. "I almost left him out there."

Getting up from the chair I've been sitting in, I look over at Glenn, "You should have."

Daryl

Aaron and I pick up on a trail about twenty miles from the edge of the red zone. Although Aaron originally wanted to stay along the boundary of the area, I convince him that most people within the set search area would have probably already found Alexandria. Eventually, he agrees to leave the safe zone. Aaron has been more exposed to the outside than the others in the community, but he's obviously uncomfortable being too far away from Alexandria.

Now, as day two of our search for other survivors begins, I look down the length of my crossbow, a walker in sight. Breathing in, I pull the trigger, the arrow going into the side of the walker's head. Nudging Aaron, the two of us traipse through the woods. Up ahead, a pile of body parts is scattered over the ground. There are arms and legs, crudely cut, the blood still wet and leaking from the severed ends. I've never seen anything like this. Spinning around, I scan the area for the torsos. "Whoever did this took what was left with 'em. This just happened."

Aaron glances at the limbs, a look of pure disgust on his face. For a second I think he's going to vomit. Once I'm sure that Aaron is going to be okay, I lift my weapon, prepared to shoot anyone that comes at us. Whoever did this isn't someone I want to let go. Part of keeping Alexandria safe is taking out potential threats. After a second Aaron lifts his gun, following me forward through the trees. As we walk, I spin around, checking to make sure no one is trying to come up behind us. This just happened which means the people who did it could still be close.

Up ahead, I can see a body tied to a tree. For a second I think of turning back. These woods aren't safe and it isn't worth it for Aaron and me to risk our lives. Nothing good is waiting for us at the end of this trial of bodies. A woman, or what's left of one, is tethered to the tree in front of us. Her stomach has been ripped into, guts hanging down to her thighs. Blonde hair hangs down, acting as a curtain to cover the dead woman's face. Flies have gathered, buzzing around the open wound. What kind of sick bastard would do something like this? This is killing for the sake of killing. It's evident that this woman suffered. I want to leave, turn around and head back in the other direction, but I stay rooted to the spot as my companion takes a few more steps forward. He's not been out in the world to see things like this. Although it's evident the scene disgusts him, Aaron's curiosity has gotten the better of him.

"She's tied up. And they fed on her. Tore her apart," Aaron's words come out slowly. There is a crack in his voice almost like he's going to cry. "This just happen?"

I nod, looking the body up and down. There is blood still dripping onto the leaves under the body. "Yeah."

"How the hell did this happen?"

Ignoring Aaron's question, I step forward, taking a handful of the woman's hair and pulling her head up. There is a 'W' carved into her forehead. I remember Blaire mentioning something about the people that attacked her camp calling themselves that. This looks like the same group. As I continue to stare at the mark on her forehead, the corpse's eyes open, a snarl escaping her lips. Without hesitation, I bring my knife forward, stabbing the walker in the head. What happened to her was screwed up. Maybe now she's found peace. "Come on."

Blaire

I spend most of the night with Tara in the infirmary. During that time the stitches in my face are removed. I refrain from looking in the mirror, choosing instead to read to Tara even though I know she can't hear me. I don't want to see what my face looks like. I know there will be a scar. I'm just not sure I can handle looking at it yet. I've always been able to keep my struggle for survival hidden underneath my clothing. This one can't be hidden; everyone will be able to see it, to know I almost wasn't able to keep myself alive. I find myself longing for Patricia. She would have forced me to look, told me that just like the others, this scar told a story. Patty would have stood with me, her hand held in mine as I observed myself. She was always so good at helping people heal. I dwell on things too much.

Pete, who already smelled of alcohol when Tara was brought in, only stays until the sun begins to set. He assures Rosita, Eugene, and me that our friend will be okay. After the fifth time I fall asleep in my chair, Rosita insists that she's got everything under control and that I can go home. Although I originally protested, wanting to be in the infirmary when Tara wakes up, Rosita put her foot down claiming that I'd be in charge of taking the first shift in the tower with Abraham and that I needed my rest. There wasn't much I could say to argue with that. Although I didn't sleep well, it was still nice to lie down and relax.

"How is she doing?" Abraham questions the next morning as we climb the steps to reach the church tower.

I shrug; lifting the coffee mug I brought out with me to my lips, swallowing the bitter liquid before I answer. I miss having fancy coffee creamer available. "When I left yesterday she was still asleep. Pete said she'd be all right though. You should go see her, Abraham."

The man frowns at me, "I'll see her once she's out of the infirmary."

"She's your friend, Abraham, at least stop in for a few minutes."

"Is Eugene still there?"

"As far as I know. He was still there when I left last night. Did you see him at home this morning?" I answer. I know there is some kind of conflict going on between Eugene and Abraham, but I don't know all the details. Abraham doesn't strike me as someone who would hold a grudge for no reason so whatever happened must have been pretty bad.

"He's still with Tara. I'll just wait and see her when she's back home."

Rolling my eyes, I shoot down at a dead one who has found it's way to the wall. Its head snaps forward before it's body crumples to the ground like a discarded rag doll. "What is the issue between Eugene and you?"

"Has anyone told you why the group was heading towards Washington?" Abraham questions, turning around and hoisting himself up to sit on the window ledge.

"Tara mentioned that he lied about knowing a cure for this thing. Is that really what you're so upset about? That Eugene lied?" When Abraham makes no move to reply I continue on. "He was probably just scared, Abraham. I mean let's face it, guys like Eugene shouldn't still be alive. He probably just found you and saw that you were a survivor and hoped you'd buy his bogus story long enough for either you or him to die. People do stupid shit when they're scared. Besides, you probably wouldn't be where you are now if it wasn't for that story. Maybe by lying Eugene actually did you a favor."

"There were no favors done on his part. We lost people trying to get him to this imaginary cure, people who might not have died otherwise." Abraham counters.

I glance over at him, "Everyone runs out of second chances eventually. If it wasn't on the journey to Washington it would've been on another trip."

"Were you always this cynical?"

I shrug, watching as a group leaves through the front gate, "I was never an optimist if that's what you're asking. Look, all I'm saying is that people die in this world. It's painful as hell, but that doesn't change that they would've happened eventually. No one gets out alive, not before this happened and definitely not now. But that means we need to be more forgiving and accept that people make mistakes. Would at least talking to Eugene kill you? Maybe he's sorry for what he did."

"If he's sorry he would've apologized," Abraham answers, pulling a container of peanuts out of one of the many pockets of his pants.

"You are kind of intimidating Abraham, and Eugene isn't the bravest person I've met. He's probably scared you're going to beat him up or something," I grin over at the redhead, hoping he knows I'm just giving him a hard time. Not everyone is good at picking up on my jokes. I feel like Abraham is slowly starting to warm up to the idea of me being part of the group and I don't want to lose that. People around here seem to respect him and the opinions that he holds.

"I'll go to the infirmary after we're done here. If Eugene is there I'm not staying though."

Rolling my eyes I watch as the group from earlier returns back, the gates shutting behind them, "You can't hold a grudge forever, Abraham."

"Why?" Abraham questions.

"Because it's good to forgive people while you can. One day it'll be too late, and they won't be around to hear it."

Author's Note:I apologize for Daryl's part being so short. I promise it will be longer come next chapter. I appreciate everyone who has read and voted for this story. Don't be afraid to comment, I'll respond to every single one I get. You are the best. :)