++++++ I do not own the Walking Dead or any affiliated characters apart from my OC's ++++++

Five

We had a collective audience when the six of us arrived back at the farm. Sophia's mother ran towards the Jeep, crying out for her daughter who happily returned her mother's tears. I got out of the jeep and stood back watching the scene unfold in front of me, Ebony scrambled off Daryl's lap as quick as she could and held Jade close to her despite the four-year-olds attempts to chase after her new friend.

Sophia's mother walked over to me whilst she held onto her daughter, I could see the tears on her face and I groaned inwardly, if it wasn't Ebony or Jade I had a predilection to steer away from crying women or children. "Are you PJ?" she asked me, sniffling, trying to clean her face.

I nodded. "Yeah-that's me." She suddenly hugged me, Ebony looked at me with a bemused smirk on her face as I patted her robotically on the shoulder. "Sophia's safe, that's all that matters, right?" I tried to comfort her. "What's your name?" I asked, trying to get her off me, my whole body was stiff like cardboard.

"Carol, Carol Peletier," she whispered, finally peeling off me. Carol was a tiny, mouse of a woman with silver, grey hair cropped incredibly short like my flaming red hair was cropped but Carol's hair wasn't spiked like mine was, she looked like Ebony had when I first convinced her to move in with me. There was a confident woman under there somewhere. Unfortunately unlike Ebony, Carol didn't look like she would do whatever she needed to do to protect her daughter.

Ebony started talking with Rick about somewhere to pitch our tent as I started sorting out the supplies in the boot. She sent Jade off to play with Sophia, it was good to see Ebony with a smile on her face as we pitched the tent-it basically felt like we were camping like we had last summer with some of my squad buddies and their families. We pitched our tent up with no trouble-actually Ebony and I had a routine down pat which meant that the tent was up in ten minutes including our bedrolls and our clothes were also in the tent. Needing a change of clothes as I was still in my bloodied jeans and shirt, I tossed all my clothes in a trash bag and slipped into a pair of black jeans and a red bikini top. I strapped my holster to my thigh and checked to make sure the gun was on safety before I climbed out of the tent and headed back to my Jeep to get the gear out for my bow, it needed to be restrung and my sight tested, given that there was a farm full of supposed protectors I could afford to take apart my bow for a couple of hours and clean it.

"Corporal Lucas?" Herschel called out to me as he approached me. "May we have a word?" he asked, eyes flickering over the scars I had as well as the many tattoos I was decorated with.

"We can have several, Mr Greene." I smiled. "Do you have a table or something? I need some time to pull my bow apart and a lot of room."

"Right this way," Herschel smiled. "And please, call me Herschel." Herschel took me over to a small bench setting that looked like it had jumped straight out of Little House on the Prairie and sat down with me after I put a sheet out on the table.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked him.

"I'd appreciate it if you hand over your gun," Herschel blurted out. "I'm happy for you to keep your bow but I won't tolerate guns on my property."

I shrugged, judging by the look on his face my reaction wasn't one that he had expected. "Handgun-not exactly my best weapon. I'm good at long range combat, fairly tolerant with hand-to-hand combat, I was a sniper actually. If I still had my sniper rifle I would have had to argue with you but it was in the shop getting a new part so I don't have it." I unclipped the holster and sat it on the table, "I will ask for you to keep it safe though, it was my grandfather's last gift to me before he died. See the inscription?"

Herschel drew the gun and turned it. "I have some strategical vision, I could calculate some few moves ahead and I have an intellect that is badly missed in the country which is run bygenerals and colonels-Garry Kasparov?"

"Russian Grand Chess Master," I grinned, "a writer and a political activist considered to be the greatest chess player of all time."

"You play chess?" Herschel questioned.

"Oh here we go," Ebony rolled her eyes, sitting down beside me. "She love's chess, can sit for hours thinking of her next move. I played with her several times, one game we played took all day. I moved a pawn, went to take Jade to playgroup, did some errands, payed some bills and when I came back she had seriously just moved a pawn. We still haven't finished that game but we mark down where the pieces are when we bring it out occasionally."

I rolled my eyes at her as I worked on my bow. "All the greatest generals played chess, it's a thinker's game."

"I'd be much obliged if you could play a game with me at some point," Herschel smiled. He holstered my gun back up and stood up, leaving it on the table.

"Aren't you gonna take it?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "Who am I to take away a gift from your family?" Herschel questioned. "I only ask that you use it responsibly and avoid from causing unnecessary trouble, as a soldier I know you would have some aspect of discipline, PJ."

I smiled. "Thank you, sir. And thank you for letting us stay. I know it won't be for long, at least until I heal and Rick's son is better."

He nodded at me and walked away.

Ebony breathed a sigh of relief. "I can't believe he almost took your gun away, PJ." She patted my shoulder, "thanks for doing this. I know you don't trust anyone."

"I trust you," I told her, grabbing my gun back. "And you said you wanna be in a group so I trust you to make the right choice."

"So can I borrow that to shoot Lori?" Ebony asked me. When I laughed at her she punched me in the arm. "The woman is a nightmare, she already threw a bunch of domestic chores at me and started rattling off a list of stuff for you to do. I laughed at her, the day you go desperate housewife on me I told her, is the day that hell freezes over."

"Yeah Andrea warned me about her," I replied. "I believe she called her Lady Grimes, or First Lady of the Atlanta Survivors."

"The blonde?" Ebony asked me.

I nodded.

"I like her," she announced. Ebony continued chatting about the camp, telling me about everyone who was there-in like an hour she had made friends with everyone apart from Daryl and Lori. Daryl was still, I assumed, pissed about getting slapped, and Lori just looked like she'd swallowed a sour lemon. I smile, sitting there listening to Ebony talk, I could see several of her worries just floating off into the sky and all I could think of was how much I had been holding her back all just because I was trying to protect her from the big bad world.