Note: Hey, all! This week's chapter is inspired by Glass Animals' "Life Itself". If you haven't heard it, change your life for the forever and give it a listen.

4. Life Itself

Mason pulled herself higher into the tree, crouching in a v between the trunk and the branch. The day was hot and the sun rode heavily on her shoulders. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine.

For a long time the forest was silent, without even a whisper of wind. She stayed very still, ignoring the ache in her exhausted legs, and kept one ear out for approaching walkers.

It was at least half an hour before she heard it, the delicate, prancing steps she'd been waiting for. Quickly she raised her hickory bow and nocked an arrow, and a few seconds later the deer came into view.

It was small, but her mouth watered at the thought of all the meals it would make. Silently she took aim.

The deer paused a few feet away, nose in the air. Catching her scent, like she figured it would. It couldn't find her, however, and after a moment it began to forage.

Mason breathed out slowly and loosed her arrow.

It flew right over the deer's head and a good foot to the side, and impaled a small tree. The deer turned to flee.

"Fuck!"

She jumped from the tree, catching a few slaps to the face as the branches whipped past her. She knew as she landed that her chances of running it down were slim. Maybe in her prime, before her knee injury, but now…

She swore again under her breath as the deer loped away…and then tumbled to the ground. The yellow fletching on the arrow in its eye looked almost neon in the sun.

Mason rolled her eyes. "Show-off."

Daryl emerged from the trees as she made her way to the kill. He pointed to the quiver at her hip.

"Let me see."

Reluctantly she handed him an arrow. "What did I do wrong this time?"

"Wood's too flexible. See?" He bent the shaft to show her.

"You never said anything about that. You said it couldn't be too stiff."

He shrugged. "Could also be that you have the aim of a one-eyed squirrel."

"Well, you would know all about those, wouldn't you?"

He snorted. "C'mon. Let's get this back to camp. I'll show you how to clean it."

Mason sighed and helped him lift the deer. Together they carried the deer back through the woods, pausing only to retrieve Mason's other arrow.

"We don't need to be telling everyone we're here," he said when she raised an eyebrow. "Even if your arrow is shit."

She sighed again. "I guess I can recycle the fletching."

When they returned to the prison, Glenn was waiting for them at the gate. His eyes popped wide when he saw their catch.

"Well this'll be a nice change," he said.

"Yeah. Give us a break from all those fucking beans," Mason muttered.

Glenn laughed. "Why do you hate beans so much?"

"Oh, I don't know, I guess it's just that they're little devil shit nuggets. Which must be why they're the only goddamn readily available food in the apocalypse."

"I'll be sure to gift some to you for your birthday."

"Thanks, buddy."

The bodies in the yard were stacked higher than they had been this morning. As she watched, Rick and T-Dog came around the corner of the guard tower, each carrying a bloated walker.

"I see you caught some, too," she hollered. "We'll have a feast."

Glenn threw her a disgusted look, but Rick and T-Dog lit up at the sight of the deer.

"Oh, hell yes, it's about time we got some real protein!" T-Dog said, tossing his walker haphazardly onto the pile.

Rick followed more sedately. "Did you catch that?" he asked her.

"Uh…in my heart of hearts I did…"

Rick grinned. "Still can't get those arrows right, huh?"

"This is the third time this week," Daryl said.

Mason scowled. "Did anyone ever think that maybe it's not me, it's the person teaching me?"

"We might think that," Rick said, "if the person teaching you hadn't caught the deer."

"Oh, yeah, ha ha, get the fucking door."

Mason and Daryl cleaned the deer in the commons area. She had to admit that he was a surprisingly patient teacher for such a grump. Once it was quartered, they took the meat they intended to dry, salted it and laid it out in the sun.

When they were done, Mason said, "Alright. I'm heading out again. I'll take my poker this time."

Daryl peered at her. "Why?"

"Because my arrows are shit."

"No, why are you going out again? We found enough for today."

She thought about reminding him that there was never enough, but of course he knew that. So instead she said, "Well I heard Lori talking about how much she was craving a Whatchamacallit so I'm gonna see if I can hunt one up. The good thing about them being the most underrated candy bar in existence is that there's probably lots of them now."

"You're going out alone for a candy bar?"

"It's no big deal. I went out alone yesterday, too."

Daryl was silent for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. Finally, he nodded. "Well, I'll go with you."

"You don't have to-"

"What else have I got to do today? C'mon, let's go tell Rick."

They found Rick in Hershel's cell along with Maggie and Beth. She could feel Beth's eyes on her so, coward that she was, she busied herself with retying her shoe.

"You're going out again?" Rick said. "What for?"

Mason hesitated, wishing she'd thought up a lie, but Daryl replied without looking at her.

"We'll need firewood to burn the bodies in the yard. It'll take a little time to gather so we figured we'd get a head start."

Rick nodded thoughtfully. "Okay," he said. "Do you want someone to go with you?"

"Nah, we'll take our guns. Mason's a better shot with that than the bow."

Mason ground her teeth but let it slide. Beth was still watching her, and it made the blush coloring her cheeks that much worse.

Once they okay'd it with Rick, Daryl and Mason headed for the cell where the weapons were piled on an empty cot. They grabbed their guns and Daryl his crossbow, but when he handed her the hatchet she stared at him.

"May as well bring back some wood," he said. "That way our story checks out."

She narrowed her eyes but said nothing, tucking the hatchet in her belt.

Once they were clear of the outer fence, Daryl turned to Mason. She stared back, confused by the expectant look on his face.

"…You want a picture or something?" she finally said.

"I'm just following your lead, boss," Daryl replied.

"Oh." Suddenly she felt self-conscious. "Well, um, I guess I was just planning on heading southeast? There's this little gas station there. I mean, it looks like people have already been there but it didn't look completely looted."

He nodded. "Okay." Then he stepped back and motioned for her to take the lead.

They travelled in silence for a while, taking down few walkers. The day was still and muggy, an omen if Mason ever saw one on what the summer would be like. She sighed and wiped the sweat from her brow.

"We'll come to a stream soon," Daryl said.

"How do you know?"

He crouched and pointed. "Look."

At first she had no idea what he was talking about, but slowly she began to see.

"Tracks?" she said.

"Rabbit, looks like," he said. "And see over here- this one's another deer. Water's not far."

And he was right. A few yards ahead and down a steep ravine they came to a stream. She saw no animals, but the tracks in the mud looked fresh.

She grinned. "Hell yes."

They washed the sweat from their faces and filled up their water bottles. Mason looked at Daryl curiously.

"How'd you learn to track?"

He didn't reply at first, and Mason wondered if she'd crossed some sort of line. Finally he shrugged.

"How'd you learn to hate beans so much?"

She smirked. "How about this? If I answer, you answer. No bullshit, no exceptions."

"What makes you think I won't bullshit you?"

"Because you have many talents, Daryl Dixon, but lying is not one of them."

He snorted. "Fine. But let's get moving. I don't want to waste sunlight hanging about."

They started off again. Mason jumped into her answer immediately.

"We were pretty poor growing up, so beans were something my mom could fix easily and cheaply. When we started having beans for breakfast, that's when I really started to hate them. Your turn."

"My brother taught me. Merle."

"I didn't know you had a brother."

"Guess it doesn't surprise me nobody mentioned him." His voice was gruff, but not from anger.

"They knew him?"

"You ate beans for breakfast?"

Mason gave him a dirty look.

"You said I only had to answer if you did."

She heaved an exaggerated sigh and said, "Yes. Scrambled beans, bean waffles, beans sunny-side up… You know, breakfast of champions."

Daryl's lips twitched- the closest she had ever seen him come to smiling. It disappeared quickly.

"Yeah, the group knew Merle," he said. "Knew him before they knew Rick."

"What…um, happened to him?"

"What were you doing that day in the woods?"

Mason stiffened. She supposed she should have seen it coming. Daryl took the lead without looking at her, which she appreciated. She was never sure if the grief showed on her face or not, but she couldn't imagine that it didn't bleed through.

"I already told you," she muttered.

"Thought we weren't gonna bullshit each other."

"It's not bullshit."

Daryl waited in silence for her answer but she couldn't bring herself to speak. Her throat felt too tight, constricting around words like barbs. And then they were clear of the trees, emerging on the side of a dirt road. The gas station was just a ways off. She took the opportunity to change the subject.

"We won't stay long," Mason said. "I told Carol I'd help her look for skullcap or something like it. For when Lori delivers the baby."

Daryl gave her a strange look, the same look he'd given her when she said she was heading out again. She took the lead again before he could speak.

The glass front door had been smashed in, but whoever ransacked it hadn't done a thorough job. There were chips and soda cans and gum packets strewn across the floor. Once they had checked for walkers, Daryl held their backpack open and Mason piled everything she could inside.

Then her eyes alighted on a box of candy bars in tan wrapping.

"Fuck yeah," she said and grabbed the whole box.

"That it?" Daryl said.

"Sure as shi-"

Before she could finish, cold, rotted fingers caught her by the elbow. She jumped, dropping the box and scattering the candy bars. Yanking forward, she reached for her gun with her other hand and the walker shambled after her. Its fingers never loosened their grip on her arm. She could hear the clacking of its teeth right behind her ear.

An arrow flew through the air just an inch past her skull. Blood splashed the back of her neck. The hand fell away from her elbow and she stumbled away.

There was a beat of silence, and then Daryl was in her face.

"Why don't you check first before you get yourself bit?"

"Excuse me? I'm sorry, I thought we cleared this place together. Didn't realize it was just up to me."

"You're the one who wanted to come out here in the first place."

"Yeah, and I didn't hold a fucking gun to your head. I could've made it out here just fine by myself."

"Yeah, you would've made it real damn fine. Or are you still tryin' to kill yourself?"

The gasp she uttered was so small it was nearly soundless, but it felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She stared at him while his words replayed in her head, setting her thoughts on fire.

"You…fuck you," she breathed.

He snorted. "Grab your damn candy bars. I'll be outside."

He stalked out the front door. She stood there for a long time while the pain ripped through her, trying to stuff it back into the cage she kept it in. Finally, when her head hurt from keeping in the tears, she gathered up the scattered candy bars and strode outside.

Daryl was leaning against the wall waiting for her. She walked past him without a glance and headed for the woods, not bothering to see if he followed.

She set a quick pace. Branches stung her face and a couple times she tripped in her haste, but she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead and never said a word.

"Hey."

His voice made her teeth clench.

"Mason."

She tried to tune him out and debated whether or not to start jogging despite her bum knee.

"Mason."

A hand caught her arm. She whipped around to face him.

"What?"

His face was wary but no longer angry. "We should stop," he said. "Gather some firewood."

She said, "You know what? I don't even give a shit." But she took out the hatchet and set to work all the same.

Mason could feel his eyes on her while they worked but she ignored him. Her anger had dulled a bit, but it left behind an ache that worried her broken edges. All she wanted was to curl up on her cot and sleep the rest of the day.

"He was a prick sometimes."

Mason paused with an armful of kindling. She looked unwillingly at Daryl, who was looking at her.

"Huh?"

"My brother," he said. "He was acting up when Rick found the group in Atlanta. Putting them in danger. Rick left him handcuffed to the roof of a building."

She didn't want to feel shocked. She didn't want to feel anything. But in the end she couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged, a little too indifferent. "Rick went back for him… He wasn't there." He paused, like there was more to say, but if there was he didn't say it.

Mason stared down at her feet. She knew what she was going to say next and she knew it was going to be painful, but maybe it was okay. Maybe she could get the words out this time.

There were worse things she could admit to.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," she said. "At least…not…exactly."

She swallowed, afraid to look up and see Daryl's expression.

"I could've put a bullet in my brain…run myself through with the fire iron…but I didn't."

No need to tell him it was because she was too chickenshit to do it herself.

"I was just…seeing what fate had to say about it."

The silence that followed felt heavier than the humidity. She shuffled her feet, wondering if she should look up, wondering if she should say something else. Her limbs felt watery. Her heart thundered in her chest. Strange how confessing this could have brought on the adrenaline when she was literally living in a world of flesh-eating savages.

Slowly she raised her head. Daryl was watching her, and she couldn't quite read his expression but his eyes were soft.

"I'm sorry," he said. "About earlier."

"It's alright." She swiped an arm across her face, refusing to believe the wetness on her cheeks was tears. "You can't help it that you're an ass."

Daryl's lips twitched. She managed a small smile in return and then she sighed.

"We should get back. They'll start to worry."

He nodded. "Some of us will come out tomorrow and gather some more."

"I'll come, too."

"Nah, you stay at the prison. You've done enough."

"I'm perfectly capable-"

"Yeah, you are, but you've been runnin' yourself ragged. What, you think I haven't noticed?"

Mason shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm just trying to help out."

"That's not the whole reason."

And now she didn't know what to say because he was right. She was really starting to resent how observant he was.

"Come on," she muttered. "Let's get back."

Carol and T-Dog met them outside the fence, each carrying handfuls of purple flowers. Mason stopped when she saw them. Carol smiled and held up the flowers.

"Found a whole grove of skullcap just to the east," she said.

"I thought…you and I-"

"Oh, it's okay. Rick told us you guys were out."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't worry about it, it's all taken care of. Oh, and I think Beth's been waiting for you."

Mason flinched and her heart fluttered nervously. From the corner of her eye she saw Daryl glance at her. She ignored him.

"Okay," she said. "Thanks."

In the yard, Glenn and Maggie were trying to get a fire going for dinner. Mason gave them a few pieces of wood and headed inside.

Rick opened the cell block door. "How'd everything go?"

Mason was eternally grateful when Daryl answered.

"Alright. I'll take some people out tomorrow and gather some more."

"You find anything else?"

"Uh…yeah," Mason said. "Where's Lori?"

"She's with Hershel."

Of course it was too much to hope that Beth wouldn't be there, too. Her eyes lit up as soon as Mason walked in.

"Hey, Mason!"

"Hey, Beth." She kept her voice low so as not to wake Hershel, who was snoring loudly. "Lori, I have something for you."

Shyly she presented the candy bars and Lori's eyes widened in shock.

"Where did you find these?" She grabbed one and held it like it was the most fragile, precious thing in the world. Mason might have smiled any other day.

"A little gas station not far from here," she said. "I thought it would be a nice treat. You know, after all the canned food."

Lori looked up and smiled. "Thank you, Mason. Not just for this. For all you've been doing for the group."

Mason nodded, cheeks burning, and mumbled something she hoped could be deciphered as "you're welcome" before slipping out of the cell.

"Mason, wait."

Son of a bitch.

She turned, hoping the calm smile wouldn't mangle on her face. "Yeah, Beth? You need something?"

"I just feel like I haven't seen you lately."

No need to mention that there was a reason for that.

"Oh. Yeah, sorry about that I just…want to do what I can. You know, for Lori and your dad and everything…"

"We really appreciate it," Beth said. "But you should take a break for a bit. You've been goin' nonstop all week."

"I do take breaks."

"Sleepin' doesn't count. You toss and turn all night anyway."

Mason frowned. "I do not!"

"You do, too. What did you think those circles under your eyes were from?"

"I don't know. Maybe you punch me in my sleep?"

Beth's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Relax tonight," she said. "Tomorrow we should go for a walk or somethin'."

The thought made her stomach churn anxiously. "W-well, um-"

Then Rick appeared, saving her from coming up with something halfway coherent. "Mason? Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Mason nodded, said a quick good-bye to Beth and followed Rick to a corner secluded from the others. She was only partly curious about what he had to say. Mostly she was just glad to be away from Beth and the disconcerting effect she had on her nerves…

"What's up?"

Rick's face was serious, concerned. "Have you thought about my offer?" he said.

Fuck me softly, Satan, I'm in hell.

"Oh," she said. "Well, I mean, I've thought about it, for sure…"

"Daryl told me what you did for Lori."

Mason nodded. "Mm-hmm…?" Her eyes flickered to Daryl, who was watching from the perch steps.

"Mm-hmm. Mason, look at me."

Unwillingly she dragged her eyes back to his.

"I know you want to stay," he said. "I've seen all the things you've been doing for us, we all have. You want to stay."

She swallowed hard. "I…" I can't stay. I can't. "I'm just trying to make up. For stealing from you."

"Your debt's been repaid ten times over and I think you know that," Rick said. "It isn't guilt keeping you here, you want to stay."

So Daryl wasn't the only one too perceptive for his own good.

"So stay."

She wanted to tell him that it wasn't that easy. She wanted to ask him how he could possibly tell her to make her heart vulnerable when his own family dangled on a string. Most of all she wanted to say okay. She wanted to say okay and be okay but she couldn't, and that was the moment she knew.

She had made up her mind.

"You're right. I do want to stay," she murmured. "Um, Rick? Could I… have a minute to myself?"

Rick smiled softly. "See you at dinner."

She nodded and headed for her cell. As she passed by Daryl she turned to him and murmured, "Tell them I wasn't feeling well."

He opened his mouth but she didn't stop to listen.

Luck was on her side. Beth was back with her father so she had the cell all to herself. Curling up on her cot, she put on her headphones and turned the music up loud enough to drown the outside world but not her thoughts. She had some planning to do if she was going to leave.

She wasn't going to make a big event of it, so sneaking away seemed best. Under cover of night, of course.

Tonight, she thought. It was more painful than she imagined it would be.

She wouldn't take anything with her except her own belongings. Everything else she would leave for the group. She knew how to scavenge and, thanks to Daryl, she knew a little bit about hunting. She would be fine. And if not, it was just fate.

~m~

She didn't know when she started to drift off, but it must have been dinnertime because she could just catch a faint whiff of smoke. She wasn't in her cot anymore. She was sitting in the front seat of an old rundown Cadillac and it was raining. The smoke smell persisted but she couldn't remember where it was coming from, and in any case it didn't matter. There was something more immediate claiming her attention.

Outside, in the woods. Voices. Shouting. The sound made her stomach roll sickly. She knew those voices. One of them was so familiar it set the fracture line in her heart to burning.

"Gina." Her voice came out as a croak, too weak to make any real noise. Her knees trembled as she stumbled out of the car. She had to get to Gina. She could change things, but she had to get to Gina…

The rain came down cold and hard. Her skin stung as she slogged into the trees, her legs dream-heavy and frustratingly slow.

"Gina!" she called. She couldn't put enough force behind it, but somehow Gina still heard her.

"Mason! Help me!"

"Gina!"

She tried to hurry, tried to run, but there were too many trees and the rain weighed down her clothes and it took every ounce of her strength just to keep moving.

"Mason, please! Help!"

"I'm coming, Gina!"

She was getting closer. She could smell…something.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She recognized the smell just as Gina's last scream tore the night right open.

"MASON-!"

But the scream cut off with a thick choking sound, and something thudded to the ground, and it was blood, blood that she smelled, and she knew she was too late but she kept running anyway. If she stopped…if she let herself…it would mean the end.

"Mason."

The voice that came then was no louder than a whisper, but it still permeated her whole being. She kept running because she had to, but the voice muted everything else.

"Mason, it's okay."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, blazing hot compared to the rain. "Gina," she rasped. But it wasn't Gina…

"I'm right here."

The rain faded. The forest faded. She was back in her cell at the prison, her face wet with tears. The sudden switch was staggering, and it took her a moment to realize that she felt much more warm and snuggly than she had before.

Someone was holding her.

"It's okay," the voice said again.

Beth.

She jerked in shock and Beth's arms tightened around her. Warm breath tickled Mason's ear.

"Don't worry, I'm here."

She should let her know she was awake. She should say something, do something. How long had she been asleep anyway? If she was going to leave tonight she had to move.

But...

Beth was so warm. Safe. She felt more solid in Beth's arms, like she was holding all her broken pieces together.

Against her better judgment, she relaxed.

One more night with the group wouldn't kill her. She wasn't strong enough to stay, but she would find an opportunity tomorrow and take it. For now she was content to melt in Beth's embrace and pretend that she was okay.

She closed her tired eyes. Beth hummed low and sweet, and the sound followed her into sleep.

~m