Hey, guys! Today's chapter title is "TKO" by Bassnectar (feat. Rye Rye and Zion I). It's probably not everyone's cup of tea, but it is definitely a kickass song, so perfect for this stage in the story. As always, a big thank you to all my reviewers and supporters, you guys are awesome! (Also, DampishPoet, you're so right about the Kayley Kiyoko song, it is great! And lindir's gaze, I'm so happy you caught my reference!) Until next time, hope you enjoy!

23. TKO

Night fell but no one slept. In spite of the stifling heat, they clumped together at one end of the boxcar. Abraham and Mason sat on either side of Eugene, twitchy with rage neither of them could vent. Eugene held Mason's hand the whole time. She thought maybe he was afraid to let go, for his own sake or hers, she didn't know. Maybe both.

Dawn broke but no one stirred. They listened intently for any sound, because whatever reason Terminus had for stuffing them in a train car it was not simply to let them rot. They were to be used for something.

Around noon, someone came with powdered milk and bread. Abraham loomed threateningly as they opened the door, but the men were prepared- sixteen of them trooped inside with guns at the ready to make sure they did nothing stupid.

They sat in a brooding huddle to eat their meager lunch. While they did, Eugene whispered in her ear.

"Best theory wins."

She didn't have to ask to know what he meant. She kept her voice low.

"They're feeding us. They didn't have to. Walker bait."

"It very well could be. Or what about recruitment? There's every possibility they might want us for slave labor."

"Yeah, although…it doesn't really have the look of a labor camp."

"Maybe it's a case of mistaken identity? Maybe they think we wronged them in some way when in actuality it was a completely separate group." Eugene seemed eager to believe this theory.

"If it were, they would've taken some of us away for questioning. Or killed someone to make an example."

Mason thought a minute and then smirked humorlessly.

"Maybe they're going to eat us."

It wasn't much of a joke and neither of them laughed. They quit theorizing after that, too spooked by their own suspicions.

Another night rolled in, and this time they were too tired to resist sleeping. When Mason awoke it was sometime before dawn. Eugene's head rested on her left shoulder and Tara's on her right. She sat immobile, unwilling to disturb them, and met Abraham's gaze across the train car.

His eyes blazed. She could almost smell his bloodlust and it riled her own.

Neither of them said a word and neither of them had to. The violence in their eyes was a promise.

~m~

The gunshots came around noon, peppery and indistinct at first but drawing steadily closer.

Everyone leapt to their feet, all previous despair gone in a sudden wave of energy. They held their breath as the cacophony bore down on their train car and suddenly halted.

They're herding someone else, Mason realized.

Shouts came from the direction of the main building, none of them distinguishable. This was followed by four sets of footsteps, each of which came to a halt outside the door. They waited in tense silence.

Light blinded them as the door opened. A man stepped inside, followed by another.

Followed by a woman with dreadlocks.

And a kid in a sheriff's hat.

Mason couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe it. Her hand slid limply from Eugene's, hardly able to care as the door shut once more.

"Rick," she whispered.

He peered through the gloom at her, at the rest of their family clustering around her, and something distinct and bittersweet clicked into place.

"You're here," he said. "You're here."

Unable to speak, Mason just nodded, swallowing the salt of her tears.

Rick's eyes narrowed, focused on the strangers behind her. She edged toward Tara and Eugene to show they were no threat.

"They're our friends," Maggie said. "They helped save us."

"Now they're friends of ours."

The familiar voice sent a shard through Mason's chest. Daryl.

Daryl, but no Beth.

Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

Abraham huffed in response. "For however long that'll be," he said darkly.

"No."

The storm in Rick's voice sent a ripple through the group. He looked at each of them. Blood on his face. Fire in his eyes. Then he spoke.

"They're gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out."

"Find out what?" Abraham growled.

"They're fucking with the wrong people."

~m~

Everyone set to work fast but Mason took a moment to seek Daryl out. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and he did the same, holding her like he was afraid to let go.

"Beth," she breathed.

Daryl stiffened, and this reaction made the air turn to glass in her lungs. She swayed on her feet. He leaned away and grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

"She ain't dead," he growled.

The relief was overwhelming. She slumped against the wall and dug her nails into her shirt, right over her heart. Her fingers clenched and unclenched in time to her pulse.

"Not dead," she whispered. "Then where is she?"

Daryl's eyes darkened. "I don't know. We got separated and this car drove away with her in it."

"What car?"

"A black car with a white cross painted on it."

Her fingers stilled over her chest.

Someone took her. Someone took my Beth. What if she's locked in a fucking train car like me?

"I'm sorry, Mason. I tried to follow it. I tried."

Daryl's voice brought her back, so choked with anguish he could barely get the words out. Mason sat up and grabbed his hands.

"I know," she said. "I know you would've done anything to protect her. It's not your fault."

Reluctantly he looked at her, blinking over-bright eyes and chewing agitatedly on his lip.

"She's alive," Mason said. "She's out there somewhere, and we're going to find her. But we need to get out of this fucking box first."

After a long pause, Daryl nodded. Then he reached into his pocket and put something in her hand.

"We didn't use it. Wanted to save the battery."

It was silly, but holding her iPod after so long felt like reconciling another piece of the puzzle.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Mason…you should know. When we find her, she's gonna be alive. She's a fighter."

Mason smiled. "I know."

~m~

"Mason, I am not a figher-"

"Shut. Up."

"You cannot seriously expect-"

"Eugene. Do you just have no concept of what shut up means? Now hold out your hands."

Eugene watched pensively as she slid sharpened buttons between his fingers and wrapped his hands with strips of cloth to keep them in place.

"If anyone comes at you, go for their eyes," she instructed. "Do as much damage as you can."

"Mason, really, I am extremely uncomfortable with this." Eugene swallowed, staring at his hands as if they'd grown warts. "I…I won't be any help out there."

Mason touched his shoulder. "Hey. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. No one fucks with my nerd, remember?"

"What about you? What are-"

"Alright."

Everyone looked up as Daryl spoke, peeking through the slim bit of space between the door and the wall.

"We got four of them pricks comin' our way."

Everyone gathered immediately, some of them only half-finished with their makeshift weapons.

"You all know what to do," Rick said. "Go for their eyes first. Then their throats."

"Put your backs to the walls at either end of the car," someone shouted from outside. "Now!"

No one obeyed. The train car crackled, the bottled lightning of ready vengeance. They waited breathlessly for the door to open.

It never did.

A hatch in the ceiling slid open and something clattered to the floor. There was no time to react. The smoke bomb exploded and the world turned to choking white.

Mason fell to her knees, doubled over with racking coughs. Her consciousness wavered in and out.

"They…they took Rick," Michonne coughed as the smoke cleared.

Terror ran a jagged spike through her lungs. Dizzily she scrambled to her feet, using the wall for support.

"Eugene," she croaked.

"Present," came the weak reply.

"Bob's gone, too," Sasha said. "And Daryl."

"Glenn," Maggie added in a distant voice.

Shit.

Mason helped Eugene to his feet and let her panic smolder into rage.

"What do we do?" Tara said.

"The plan hasn't changed," Mason growled. "We're fighting our way out."

~m~

A booming shockwave rattled the train car some fifteen minutes later, startling everyone out of their grim preparations.

"What in Satan's asshole was that?"

Abraham darted to the door but could see nothing. The woodpecker tap of gunfire started up a moment later. "What the hell is going on out there?" he seethed.

Sasha paced back and forth behind him. "Maybe our people got free."

Before anyone could respond, Eugene pushed past her with the empty bomb casing in hand. Mason frowned as he knelt by the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I might be able to use this shell to compromise the door. From the sound of things there may not be anyone left to open it."

"Eugene," Tara said. "I'm sorry but shut up."

"Hey." Carl looked evenly at Eugene. "My dad's gonna be back. They all are."

"They are," Maggie agreed. "And we need to get ready to fight our way out with them when they do."

Abraham and Rosita still looked doubtful, and Mason wished she could explain to them the kind of man Rick was. Instead she sat next to Eugene and turned on her iPod. There was little over half of the battery life left, but she already knew which song she was looking for. She pulled it up and locked it, so that it would be ready when the fighting started.

It was just smart, she'd once told Beth. You know, in case you ever get in a fight and need some really badass background music. Mason smiled.

After a while, Sasha looked up. "What's the cure, Eugene?"

"That's classified."

Michonne narrowed her eyes. "We don't know what's gonna happen."

"You leave him be," Abraham growled.

Mason nodded firmly. "We need to keep working."

But Sasha was not satisfied. "It's time to hear it. Because we don't know what's next."

"What's next is we get out of this."

"Even if I told you all, even I provided step-by-step instructions complete with illustrations and a well-composed FAQ and I went red-ring, the cure would still die with me."

"I'm not gonna let that happen," Abraham said.

"The best case scenario we step into a hell-storm of bullets, fire and walkers. I'm not fleet of foot. I sure as hell can't take a dead one down with sharp buttons and hella confidence."

He aimed this last at Mason, who silently flipped him off.

"Yeah, but we can," Michonne said. "And we will."

"You don't owe us anything," Sasha said. "Not yet. But we just want to hear it."

Still Eugene hesitated. Mason raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, unable to deny her own curiosity. Finally, he stood and addressed them all.

"I was part of a ten-person team at the Human Genome Project to weaponize diseases to fight weaponized diseases," he said. "Pathogenic microorganisms against pathogenic microorganisms. Fire with fire. Interdepartmental drinks were had, relationships made, information shared. I am keenly aware of all the details behind fail-safe delivery systems to kill every living person on this planet. I believe with a little tweaking on the terminals in D.C., we can flip the script. Take out every last dead one of them. Fire with fire."

Listening to this, Mason bubbled with pride. As he continued, they smirked at each other.

"All things being equal, it does sound pretty badass."

It was then that the moment they'd waited for finally came. The shouting and gunshots closed in. Everyone leapt to their feet. Mason pressed play on her iPod, turned the volume up as high as it would go, and stashed it in her pocket. As the music started, Abraham chuckled fiercely.

The door slammed open and there was Rick, covered in blood, looming out of a haze of smoke like a war god. Mason grinned a feral grin.

"Come on!" he rallied. "We fight to the fence!"

Mason grabbed Eugene's wrist. "Stay close to me or Abraham. Go for the throat if you have to."

Fear clouded his eyes but he managed to nod. She gave him an encouraging squeeze. Then she jumped out of the train car.

The world was a mess of walkers and smoke. The dead ones came out of the smog like sparks, half of them flickering torches and the others bearing wounds from shrapnel. The group axed through their ranks. Mason took the lead with Rick and Glenn.

She was snake-savage and precise from all the days spent training. The cloth strips padding her knuckles soaked through quickly with blood. Walkers were easy now. They were target practice. It was not them she was antsy to meet.

When the woman crossed her path, the scraggle-haired woman from before, she lunged.

Her blood buzzed with retribution. Her teeth bared in a smile that had Scraggle's eyes bulging with panic.

"Please…please!"

But there was no room in her for mercy.

Mason sent a dizzying kick into the woman's stomach, and another to her head while she was doubled over. Scraggle toppled to the ground. Mason grabbed the gun from her belt and shot her in the head.

The others streamed toward the fence, with Bob and Daryl on either side to cover their flanks. Mason fought her way back to orbit around Rick. Together they moved with the practiced fluidity of old war comrades. It filled her with ferocious happiness, fighting alongside her family again. She was a meteor, pinballing from obstacle to obstacle, crashing joyfully in a shower of blood.

She was almost to the gate when she saw him. The man in the red hat. She jarred to a halt.

"Mason. Come on."

Almost everyone had made it over the fence, excluding Rick and Abraham. They were calling her name but she couldn't tear her eyes from that man, who was holding his own against the walkers.

"Goddammit, Mason, get the lead out of your ass and move!"

In her mind she saw him slamming Eugene against the train car. Holding a gun to his head. Her muscles went taut with rage. She moved before she could think better of it, ignoring Rick's protests and Abraham's cursing.

She cut a beeline through the walkers, back the way she'd come. Red Hat hadn't noticed her yet, too busy piercing through a knot of dead ones blocking the way to a door. Mason increased her pace.

Just before she reached the door, she darted in front of it. Red Hat startled at the sight of her bloody silhouette.

"Shit!"

She punched him in the throat and whatever else he might have said choked into silence. Knocking the hat off of his head, she grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into the building.

When she pulled him back, his nose was broken, his eyes rolling woozily. She bent down to whisper in his ear.

"Don't fuck with my nerd."

Then she threw him to the walkers.

His screams rent the air as she turned away, but they quickly dissolved into gurgles. She wondered if a better person would've felt some form of remorse, but all she felt was deeply satisfied. Nobody fucked with her family.

"Mason!"

Rick shot a hole through the reconvening walkers and grabbed her hand. As he pulled her through, Abraham covered them.

"I swear to fuck, girl, you are lucky I don't hand-feed you to those cold and crispies over there."

"Sorry," she said, sounding very, very not sorry.

When they reached the gate, Abraham lifted her up to the burlap tarp draped across the razor wire. She vaulted to the other side, stumbling a little to keep from jarring her bones.

"Mason!"

She jumped in surprise when Eugene swept her into a tight embrace.

"Hey, my guy. You okay?"

He held her out in front of him, and the desperation in his eyes pained her.

"Why…why did you go back?"

"I just spotted a friend. Had to pay him a visit."

Eugene swallowed, clearly working hard to calm down. After a moment, he held shaky hands up for her to see.

"I remembered what you said. Eyes first."

Mason grinned proudly at the walker blood soaking his knuckles. Half of the buttons were missing, a testament to the force behind his attack.

"See?" she said. "You are a fighter."

"Come on!" Abraham shouted, reminding Mason of where they were. She and Eugene darted after the rest of the group, through the trees along the fence. They only stopped when Daryl pointed to a place up ahead. Rick seemed to know exactly what he was talking about but Mason didn't understand what was so significant until he started to dig.

"The hell are we still around here for?" Abraham demanded.

"Guns," Rick said. "Some supplies. We'll go along the fences. Use the rifles to take out the rest of them."

Mason agreed instantly but it looked as though she was the only one. Everyone else exchanged apprehensive glances.

Bob stepped forward. "What?"

Rick looked evenly at him. "They don't get to live."

"Rick, we got out. It's over," Glenn said.

"After they locked us up? Took our shit, threatened to kill us?" Mason said.

"It's not over until they're all dead," Rick agreed.

"The hell it isn't, that place is on fire," Rosita said. "Full of walkers."

"I'm not dicking around with this crap," Abraham growled. "We just made it out." With this he added a pointed glare at Mason, who bristled and might have snapped a retort if Eugene hadn't wrapped a hand over hers.

"The fences are down," Maggie said. "They'll run or die."

Rick frowned. It was clear he was not convinced. He glanced at Mason, who shook her head, and then at Daryl, whose opinion they never learned. He was distracted by a sound behind them, and Mason tensed before she saw the person standing there, looking painfully uncertain.

Daryl ran to her, sweeping Carol into his arms without a word. Mason stared in shock.

"Who's that?" Eugene murmured.

Mason smiled tearfully. "Family."

Carol laughed when Mason hugged her. "Don't go getting all emotional over me," she said.

"You're crying, too."

Then they both were laughing.

"I have something for you," Carol said, and stepped away to hand her her fire poker.

It gave her an irrational sense of relief, being reunited with it. "Thank you," she said.

Carol smiled, then turned back to Rick. "You have to come with me."

Everyone followed Carol through the forest, back to a dirt road by the train tracks. A little shack sat nestled where the dirt road ended, and as they approached the door opened and Tyreese stepped out. In his arms was Little Asskicker.

Rick let out a strangled gasp and sprinted toward them, Carl on his heels. Sasha hurried after them to embrace Tyreese. Mason swallowed the lump in her throat, but the tears came anyway.

Everyone waited some distance away to give them their time together. Mason looked at all of the faces who had become so dear to her at the prison. The whole family was nearly reunited. The absence of Beth was a raw hole in her heart, but she was confident now, she was certain, that they would find her.

Then she looked at Eugene.

He was not smiling like the others. His face was pinched in an expression she recognized instantly. She had lived inside of that emotion for nearly a year after Gina's death, and it had never truly abandoned her.

It was guilt.

It didn't make sense, but there it was. And Mason slowly began to realize that there were still so many things about him that she didn't know about him.

She didn't question him about it. She pretended not to notice as she took her hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze, just as she'd done before leaping from the train car.

Her family was here. They could figure out the rest together.