Okay, first thing's first: thank you so much to all my reviewers and readers. I would PM you each with my thanks but I don't want to spam you, so here will have to do lol. Anyway, today's chapter I don't think is as dark as the last so I chose a song that's melancholy but not with not-quite-total despair, if that makes sense? It's OneRepublic's "Goodbye, Apathy" from their debut (and arguably best) album. I'm really excited with some of the things I have planned for the next few chapters and I really hope you enjoy them! Let me know what you think.

19. Goodbye, Apathy

She didn't talk much, not even to Glenn. That first day with him and her new companions was nearly as silent as her time spent alone. Her relief at finding him faded quickly in the wake of her situation- that she still had not found Beth or Daryl, that she now had Eugene to look out for (much as she resented it), and that she could not for the life of her remember how to feel like a human being.

It scared her when she thought too much about it. The return of the Governor, the loss of the prison, the division of her family… Hell, even being without her music. All of this had fractured something deep within her, that it seemed only rage could fill.

It will change when you find Beth, she thought, but would it? Even with Beth and Daryl, the fire in her heart had muted everything.

It will change when you find the rest of your family, she thought, but she knew this, too, was a lie. Whatever had happened felt deeply permanent. Even if she could find the others, even if she found all of them, things could never go back to how they were.

This realization became too much to bear that first night, after Abraham pointed out in his colorful way that if they didn't rest for a while "their asses would drag fat tracks in the ground tomorrow". Once the others were settled, Mason slipped away, determined to beat her anxiety into submission if that was what it took.

She ran, lithe on her feet, ears always open for the sound of walkers. She met none, which bitterly disappointed her, but the exercise did her some good anyway. She didn't feel cured when she returned to camp, but she felt better.

She settled down some distance away from the others. Glenn brooded by the fire, staring down at the photo in his hand, the only picture he had of Maggie. Tara lay next to him with her arms behind her head, staring up at the trees like only they could provide an answer which she desperately sought. Rosita and Abraham were sitting watch at either end of the camp. Which only left…

"I think you should drink some water."

Mason jumped at the sound of Eugene, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere on her right. Furious at herself for letting her guard down, she threw him a vicious glare.

He paused at her look of pure loathing with his hand outstretched. It was only then that she saw the water bottle he offered, and she felt a flicker of guilt, which only pissed her off more.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Can I inquire as to where you went?" he said in that strange, monotone southern accent. "I only ask because even with the illumination of a half-moon, our current inhospitable surroundings are as such because there are shadows at every turn, and perils within said shadows. Also, because I have a natural curiosity."

Mason stared. Never in her life had she heard anyone talk in such a way, and it momentarily distracted her from her ire. Still, she said nothing, and Eugene began to look uncomfortable.

"Can I sit next to you? You don't have to talk if you don't want. I guess it's probably best to keep quiet anyway, given the sword that's dangling over our collective heads."

But Mason didn't say a word, and continued to glower at him until he turned awkwardly to leave.

When he was gone, she let herself relax. But sleep didn't come easily that night, and when it did she dreamed of horrors she couldn't remember the next morning.

~m~

She ran a few laps while the others were eating breakfast, killing four walkers along the way. When she returned there was a water bottle sitting at the place where she'd slept. There was a brief, childish moment in which she was tempted to reject it. In the end she drank, studiously ignoring the person she was sure had left it for her.

Mason let Glenn take the lead while she scouted, ranging from one side of the road to the other. She was restless. It felt like burning, staying in one spot for too long.

There was always someone walking with Eugene, guarding him. Rosita, Abraham and Tara rotated. Mason avoided all of them.

They made good time until they came to a curve in the road, and the horde of walkers that milled across it. Glenn and Mason pulled to a halt. The others gathered around them.

"Well, fuck-stick." That, of course, was Abraham.

"We'll have to go around," Glenn said.

"Yeah, but how far?" Rosita said. "We don't know how many are in that herd."

"Maybe we could lure them out?" Tara suggested. "Throw rocks or something? To see if there are any more."

It was Glenn who saw the look in Mason's eyes, the rigidness of her stance. He gave her a warning glance, but her knuckles only whitened around her fire poker.

"Mason, don't. We'll find another way."

But she couldn't tear her eyes away from the walkers, and she couldn't stop her blood from burning, and she couldn't stop herself from taking a step forward.

"Mason."

Glenn grabbed her arm but she shook him off. There came another protest, from somewhere behind her, but she barely heard him. She was already running.

She hit the crowd at full speed, ripping through two of them at once. Her poker swung violently, beautifully, spraying the air with red. There were so many walkers, there were too many and she was surrounded, but she was not afraid, she was gleeful, ecstatic, and-

Blood showered her neck and shoulder. She turned to see Abraham taking up a place on her right side, and Glenn on her left. Her jaw clenched.

"I've got this," she hissed.

"Don't think so, sister," Abraham replied, ramming the butt of his gun into a walker's nose. There was a grin on his face, and a glint in his eyes that was downright jovial.

Mason whirled around him, jabbing through two walkers at the same time. She kicked them away, knocking over a third in the process, and Abraham laughed. She found herself grinning in response, although it felt more like a baring of teeth.

The walkers thinned quickly after that until there were no more left. Mason, Glenn and Abraham were silent for a moment, examining the carnage. Then Glenn whirled on Mason.

"What the hell was that?" he said. "You could've gotten yourself killed."

"I was taking care of it," she replied.

"That was taking care of it? Rushing in like an idiot without a plan, without backup?"

"It was about as stupid as a squirrel dangling its ass over a doghouse," Abraham agreed. But when he looked at her, she saw a gleam of respect.

It took everything to put a damper on her temper, but when she did she said, "The way's clear now. We should keep moving."

They carried on, Mason taking the lead this time. She could feel Glenn stewing behind her but she didn't acknowledge him. She knew just how stupid she'd been to pull such a stunt and she couldn't find it in herself to care. She was reckless with rage. It led her like a dog on a leash.

They carried on late into the evening, until they spotted a thick cluster of trees just off the road and Rosita insisted they stop.

"We won't find a better place, and we can't keep wandering through the dark when we're all dead on our feet," she said.

Mason curled her lip at her bossy tone but said nothing.

Tara took first watch while Glenn heated a can of black beans for their dinner. He smiled a little at Mason over the fire.

"It's your favorite."

Mason offered him a smirk in return. A peace offering.

After dinner, she settled herself a distance away from the others, just like the night before. She was glad to have Glenn back, more than she could possibly say, but without Beth and Daryl she felt disconnected. A magnet repelled by the proximity of another.

Eugene approached some time later but didn't speak. She glared straight ahead, making it clear that she meant to ignore him, until he left.

When she finally broke her determined stare, she realized that he had left another water bottle next to her.

~m~

The next day was sweltering. Mason returned from her morning run covered in sweat, and went immediately to the bottle Eugene had left her.

Everyone was cranky, and grew tenser as the heat rose. By midday their feet dragged on the pavement.

"We should walk in the woods," Tara suggested. "It's cooler there."

Rosita nodded. "We need to refill on water anyway. Maybe there's a creek nearby."

Nobody protested. They all rushed gratefully for the shade of the trees.

Once underneath the lazy canopy, Mason led Abraham, Glenn and Eugene in search of water. When Abraham demanded where in damn hell she thought she was going, Glenn said simply that she knew how to find it. Neither of them mentioned Daryl, but his name hung heavy between them.

It didn't take long for Mason to spot a deer trail. She knelt to examine it.

"What is it that you're looking for?" Eugene asked, which earned him an are-you-serious look.

He amended, "What is it that you look for when searching for water in a wilderness such as this?"

Stifling a sigh, she waved him closer and pointed at the prints in the soil.

"Tracks," he said. "It does make sense. Ninety-eight percent of my experience with forests consists of the abrupt and frightening foray of the past year. The two percent before that were the unhappy and subsequently rare occasions when I got lost. Less frightening than now, I'll admit, but it did leave a sizeable scar in my ego. I am not a woodsman by any stretch of the imagination."

Mason rolled her eyes. That's obvious.

They found the stream just a few yards away, gurgling cheerfully over jagged slate rocks. The water was clear and cool. After splashing a bit of it on her neck and face, Mason took up watch on the slope opposite while the others filled the bottles.

A spot of red at the bottom of the hill caught her eye. Strawberries, she thought. After a moment's hesitation she started toward it.

She whipped around at the rustle of heavy footsteps. Eugene raised his hands in immediate surrender. She seethed at him for a moment in silence and then he spoke.

"My apologies. I just thought it best if we don't split up. Safety in numbers and all that. I was-"

Mason leapt at him before he could finish, knocking him out of the way seconds before a walker could clamp its teeth in his throat. Together, the two of them tumbled down the hill. Just before they reached the bottom, Mason crashed painfully into a tree and Eugene crashed painfully into her.

"Fuck nuts," she gasped.

"Are you okay?"

"Just peachy. Get down."

Eugene ducked obediently, allowing Mason to lean over him with her fire poker outstretched. The walker half-slid, half-collapsed into it, its chest rupturing easily. It continued to snap at them, doggedly swiping its arms.

From close by came the snarl of another walker, and another.

"Get up. Get up."

Eugene crawled out from under her as she yanked her iron free. From their left, a stream of dead ones appeared and cut across their path. Mason grabbed his arm and shoved him deeper into the woods.

They moved quick, darting in and out of trees, trying to find a clear path back to the stream. But another gaggle of walkers lurked in the distance, as yet unaware of their presence. Mason's teeth clamped together. Signaling Eugene to stay quiet, she shoved him under a thorn bush, then crouched over him as she covered them both in leaf litter.

The smell of rotten foliage was enough to choke her and- she hoped- enough to hide their scent.

The walkers approached fast, clearly fresher ones. Her heart thundered violently enough that she was sure Eugene could feel it. Briefly she looked down to find him staring back, eyes wide with fear. She narrowed hers, a grim reminder to keep his mouth shut.

Then the walkers were there, shuffling past so close the thorns rattled. Eugene screwed his eyes shut, his fingers clinching- for the first time, Mason noticed they were knotted in the back of her shirt. Her lips thinned with tension but she kept absolutely still, absolutely silent.

A few breathless moments later, the walkers had disappeared. Mason let out a breath and sagged against Eugene's chest.

"EUGENE!"

At the sound of Abraham's shout they both jolted, scrambling to their feet and effectively bedecking themselves in thorns.

"Shit," she said, and shared a worried glance with Eugene.

"They're gonna rally every cold corpse in the state."

Once again, she found herself grabbing his arm. "C'mon."

They hurried back the way they'd come, and met Abraham and Glenn barreling through the trees.

"Is he hurt?" Abraham thundered.

"Just a few thorns is all. It's superficial, really," Eugene answered shakily.

Abraham checked him anyway. When he'd seen for himself that Eugene wasn't about to die he turned on Mason with a fearsome expression.

"What in Satan's pit of shit were you thinking? Do you not understand the gravity of our current situation? Do you need me to spell it out for you? That man must stay alive."

Mason's blood surged, stoked by the threat in his voice. "And I kept him alive. If it weren't for me, he'd have a throatful of incisors right now."

"That is true," Eugene spoke up. "Mason is the reason I'm still here, alive and reasonably well."

For a moment, Abraham refused to be reasoned with. He fumed like a chimney stack, his face nearly as red as his hair. Mason waited, avid for him to make a move.

"Hey." Glenn stepped between them. "Enough. Eugene's safe. We all need to keep moving."

As if to emphasize his point, the growls of the walkers started up a few yards away, apparently catching their scent. After that there was no more opportunity to fight, but the group crackled with tension the rest of the day.

~m~

That night, after everyone had settled in, Eugene came over to the place where Mason sat. She was expecting it this time, so when he appeared, she sighed and looked right at him.

He froze, apparently expecting something venomous.

Instead, Mason nodded for him to sit.

"Much obliged," he said. The relief in his voice bordered on eagerness. She stifled the urge to heave a bigger sigh.

They sat in silence for a moment, in which Mason began to hope she might get some peace after all. Then Eugene cleared his throat.

"I've been stewin' about this all day and have yet to come to a viable conclusion," he began, but paused like he wasn't sure he wanted to say it.

Mason raised an eyebrow in wordless encouragement.

"Well, I've borne witness to what you can do. You're a skilled fighter without an apparent scintilla of fear. A fireball with a fire poker, as it were. Given your general hostility and flippancy in regard to our precarious new world, I wouldn't expect you to run from anything."

Mason balled her hands into fists. She was stuck on that middle phrase, that fireball with a fire poker. It was just like

(Gina)

something she'd said to Beth once.

"Get to the point," she growled.

Eugene leveled her with a surprisingly bold stare. "Why did you run when you could have fought?"

She blinked, suddenly uncomfortable. Why had she run? True, there'd been quite a few walkers today, but not as many as she'd faced before. Certainly not as many as there'd been yesterday. And her bloodlust hadn't dimmed. These days whenever there was danger she felt an immediate pull to it.

So why had she run?

Tapping her feet to appear nonchalant, she shrugged. "Because I didn't want to draw more attention to you. And you're important, remember?"

Eugene considered her response before nodding. "Fair play. Cards on the table, I was a little disappointed. It is truly something to behold, your skill with that fire iron."

"Thanks."

"Do you mind if I hunker down here for the night?"

Mason stiffened but Eugene continued, apparently without noticing.

"When he's on edge, Abraham has a way of making camp feel like a tinderbox. I think I'd sleep better over here with you."

She had no idea what to say in reply, so she gave him a short nod. And there was that relief again, that eagerness glowing in his face. It gave made her buzz with embarrassment.

I'm not that great, she wanted to tell him. And I can't be your friend when we have two totally separate goals.

But it was clear that was what he wanted. And Abraham, Rosita…she might've considered them friends if they weren't so hell-bent on getting to D.C. But she knew that soon their paths would diverge, and the thought of letting herself care about someone only to watch them leave, the thought of that so soon after everything else…

She had to distance herself. It was the only solution. She couldn't hand out any more pieces of her heart when so much of it was already missing.

Silently she watched Eugene curl up a few feet away, resting his head on his pack. He prattled nonstop to her about something or other. She was only partly paying attention, her thoughts drifting once more to dark places. It was only when she realized that his chatter had changed abruptly to snoring that she was able to shake them off. She settled in for sleep after that. It came more easily than she expected.

It was kind of comforting, the snoring.

~m~

Mason woke to an unexpected weight draped across her side. Blearily she stirred, feeling it out, and froze when she realized what it was.

Sometime in the night Eugene had found his way over to her. Bristling, she shoved his arm away.

"Get off!"

He startled awake and rolled away. "Wha- What's going on?"

"You had your arm around me!"

Red colored his cheeks. "Uh, my…my apologies. I'm a bit of an active sleeper. I used to sleepwalk in my younger years. In all transparency when I was around the eight year mark I-"

"I'm going for a run."

Mason took off before Eugene could respond, slipping past the rest of the group and onto the misty road.

She ran hard. Her blood beat hot under her skin.

Yes, she had to stay away.