A sound like thunder rips through the air. It drops. Rick's arrived, breathing heavily, eyes dark, a modern day warrior coming to save the day. He fires a couple more shots and then he's in front of me, dragging me to my feet. "Lauren."

Gazing down at the walker, I vaguely notice that my body is still shaking, but the tears have stopped. The image of that thing reaching for me…

"Lauren!" Rick's voice sounds muffled, like I have cotton in my ears.

Slowly lifting my head, it feels heavy. I spy D out of the corner of my eye. Daryl's helping her up, two walkers lying beside her with arrows protruding from their heads. D's not on her feet long when she slumps into him, wrapping her arms around his waist, sobbing.

"Lauren." Rick grabs my chin in a firm but gently grip and turns my head to face him.

Blinking sluggishly through my smudged and dirty glasses, the concern is bright in his eyes. The tears start again. He tugs me forward and crushes me to his body; it's hard and solid. I grip him back, shuddering and sobbing, burying myself into him. Carl's beside me clutching at us. It seems to take forever to gain any control back, but eventually I reign myself in, if only a little, and ease my hold on Rick.

Squeezing Carl's shoulder and instinctively kissing his head, it's remarkable the comfort his presence gives me. I look Rick in the eye completely indebted to the man. My thanks, despite being from the bottom of my heart, doesn't seem to be enough. I'll make it up to him, even if it kills me. Stumbling over to D, she extracts herself from Daryl, and we envelope each other in a hard, relieved hug. We sniffle and whimper, clinging to each other. We were incredibly close to death, and will never forget it.

We lost a lot of people tonight, and though the walkers are dealt with, and the sun is starting to rise, no one will be sleeping. There are jobs to do. Each victim needs to be seen to, so they don't reanimate. A few of the survivors want to bury our people and burn the walkers.

The injury to my ankle is worse than I'd thought. It's tender, and swollen with massive bruising. Rick and D help me into the RV where Dale tends to it; he also tosses me a cloth to wash my face and glasses. Amy arrives to pull D pull away, Andrea practically glued to her side, and Rick goes to take attendance; see who's left.

"You should rest it," Dale sighs as he stands, packing away the bandages.

"I appreciate the help Dale, but I'm fine." I manoeuvre so that I'm at the edge of the bed.

"Don't argue," Rick commands as he walks back into the RV.

My gaze turns to him and I lift my head defiantly. "I can help."

"You need to rest that foot, you'll only do yourself more damage if you don't."

I roll my eyes and huff at the man. "There's still a lot to do, and the more people to help the quicker it gets done."

"I'll let you deal with her." Dale pats Rick's shoulder as he slips past the Sheriff and leaves.

"You won't do anyone good if you don't heal."

"I'm not a bloody invalid, Rick." I glare at him. "I'm capable of standing and shoving pointy weapons through heads."

"You're not leaving the bed." He stands firm, glaring down at me.

Snorting and rising to my feet, careful to hide the wince, I roll my eyes. "What are you going to do, handcuff me to the bed?"

He pushes me back down and leans down. "I've done it once, I can do it again."

My eyes narrow, anger overcoming my attraction, "You lost them, remember?"

He closer, and my breathing hitches, the intensity of his gaze takes my breath away. "I'll improvise."

"Rick?" Lori questions, an unreadable emotion in her voice.

The man doesn't move, save for pointing to the back. I hate to admit it, but the intensity and authority is a turn on. There's no other thought other than complying. I crawl backwards, and don't stop until my back hits the RV window.

"You aren't to move unless Dale or I give you permission, understood?"

My eyes narrow, angry that I gave in so easily. "And if I have to go to the toilet?"

He fights a smirk, "We'll see." He turns and acknowledges Lori, ruffling Carl's hair. "Everything alright?"

"I want to make sure Loz isn't bitten." Carl murmurs as he eyes me worriedly.

"I'm fine." My smile is genuine, but he doesn't say anything but stares intently at me, as though he doesn't quite believe me. I frown, feeling hurt, "You do know I'd never let myself become a danger." He nods, still looking uncertain. "Would you feel better if your mum has a search?" He nods, and Rick leads him out. My attention turns to Lori, who's watching me with a peculiar expression. "Uh, you don't mind do you?"

She snaps out of it and smiles somewhat. "No," I move back to the edge of the bed and stand, grimacing. As she conducts a thorough search, she talks softly to me. "Carl and the other kids aren't worried you'll turn and hurt them," My head turns as she runs her fingers over my back, "They're worried that you're bitten and will go off by yourself without a word to anyone."

Would I do that? If I'd been bitten, is there strength in me to go off alone? Or would the shock and terror of it cause me to keep quiet? I wish it could be said with confidence that I'd at least tell them. But that consequence is frightening itself. Last night could have gone so differently. My breathing hitches, my heart starts pounding and my vision gets blurry. My hands clutch each other tightly, hoping to stave off the trembling. I was nearly eaten, ripped apart like so many others.

"Lauren?" Lori's voice brings me back to the present.

My eyes open, though there's no memory of closing them, and I discreetly wipe at the tears that have leaked. She pulls my shirt back down and it gives me a few moments to get a hold of myself. I sit back down and set myself up at the head of the bed again. "Thanks. You'll let the kids know all is well."

"Of course."

She's almost out the door when I grab her attention. "Lori?"

"Yeah?"

It's the perfect opportunity to talk about Rick and Shane, no matter how much I don't want to. It needs to be said. "I know it's none of my business," the lump in my throat is difficult to swallow, "but, this thing with Rick and Shane, you need to decide. It's…" hesitating at her look, thankful that she not furious at my meddling, "the end of the world needs their full attention."

Lori stares, then nods ever so slightly and leaves without another word. Letting out a deep breath and leaning back against the RV, my relief is palpable. It's not a few moments later when D comes in to see me. She looks pale and the dark rings under her eyes, only emphasise that.

She smiles weakly as she sits on the bed. "Hey."

"Hey. How're you holding up?"

"I, um, fine?"

I smile sadly at her, not believing a word. "So about the same as me then?"

Her smile fades, "I, I…"

"I know." Our hands clutch tightly and she moves so she's sitting beside me.

"I just…"

"I know."

"I hugged Daryl." She forces a smile. It's not hard to tell she's trying to think of anything other than the night before.

"And he didn't stab you."

Her smile turns real. "He even hugged me back." She giggles.

"Well, I nearly had Rick handcuff me to the bed." I grin wickedly.

She turns to stare; her mouth opened in shock. "What?"

"We got into an argument about me staying here to rest my foot. I wanted to get up and help,"

"Loz." D sighs.

"I know, I know, shhh." I nudge her arm, "anyway, he says I'm not to leave the bed, and I counter sarcastically with remark about him handcuffing me to the bed. He gets real close, and I can see the intensity in his gorgeous blue eyes," I pause to fan myself, "and then he comes back with 'I've done it once before I can do it again'"

"Oh wow."

I sigh dreamily. "Have you talked to Daryl at all today?"

She sighs, and her grin drops. "Sort of, I mean he grunts a word or two, and I've only really thanked him. But," she pauses as she shifts, "I get this feeling I'm being watched, but then I look and I'm sure I see his head turning away, but," another sigh, "I think it's just my wishful thinking."

"I doubt it, he seemed to watch you before…last night." My shudder goes right through my body as the massacre replays in my head. "We survived though."

"We did, barely."

We're both quiet, as we get lost in the memories of the night before. It's happened far too many times already. How many more times do I have to watch it? It was bad enough to live through, but to constantly be reminded, to repeat it. There's no way out of the nightmare, not until the kids come racing into the RV. To my surprise Amy is with them, and she smiles ever so softly at me, gripping my hands in thanks. Awkwardly patting her hand, this attitude is a little uncomfortable. It's not unwanted, but after the hostility it's weird.

The next few hours are spent in our own little bubble, where we refuse to allow the reality of our lives and the thoughts of the previous events break into our small world. We ignore the shouts from outside, and pretend for a few short hours that we aren't living in a world full of monsters. Eventually the real world does break through. Jacqui comes in helping a pale and trembling Jim. The parents call for their children and Amy takes D, heading back out to finish helping everyone.

Jim and I glance at each other awkwardly. We're not strangers, but we're not exactly friends. We don't have anything in common. However, the man's been bitten and I can't fathom how he must feel. We start out tentatively, but soon we're chatting quietly about anything we can possibly think of. As we talk, people come and go, packing the RV. After a little while, when silence envelops us, the awkwardness is gone.

Once all the bodies have been sorted out, and the walkers burnt, we all gather up on the hill where Jim dug his holes. The funeral is for all we've lost, and after a few departing words there's nothing but silence. My mind whirls with 'what ifs' and not for the first time my mortality comes into question. I froze when that last walker attacked, knelt there, staring at its snapping jaws and soulless eyes. There was no attempt to move, no thought of screaming. If Rick hadn't been there, it would have…the pain of being torn apart terrifies me. If I'm bit, I'm bit, but to be alive as those things feed…

"..ren!"

Blinking and coming back from my thoughts, my gaze goes to Glenn, who's looking concerned. Those that are still around are watching and it's uncomfortable. Swallowing back all the emotions, my smile's weak. "Uh, sorry." I turn on my heel and limp back down the hill.

D's by my side instantly, helping me down the hill. "Loz?"

"I feel like I'm going to lose it." My laugh is slightly hysterical. "How are you handling it?

Her smile is wobbly and her eyes are filled with tears. "I'm not."

As horrible as it is, that makes me feel better. I'm not the only one hanging on by a thread. My gip tightens as we come to stand with the others. The tents are packed; the camps practically empty and the vehicles are ready to go.

"Alright everyone, listen up!" Shane calls.

"I think the best bet we have is to head to the CDC, they may have an answer to this." Rick continues.

For a moment it seems that Rick's looking right at me, like he's searching to see how I'm doing. Turning away, it's vital to me that he doesn't see how bad I'm holding up; it would do no good to be seen as weak and dependent. But why would he? We don't know each other, and he has other things to worry about.

Shane makes his argument for Fort Benning. However, both agree that getting away from this camp is important. It's Shane who makes the comment of everyone sticking together, and it makes sense, safety in numbers and all that.

However, that's when Morales makes the decision that breaks my heart.

"Uh, Rick? Shane?"

"Yeah Morales?" Shane turns to the Hispanic man.

Said man looks to his wife, then back to the two 'officers'. "Miranda and I have talked it over, and we want to try to make it to Birmingham. We have family there."

There's a pause, Shane and Rick share a glance then face him. I tune it all out though; my gaze on the kids, tears welling up. D squeezes my hand, offering me her comfort. Once conversation is done, Rick gives Morales a gun and ammo. It's time to say goodbye.

How could I forget that they leave? Would refusing to say goodbye make them stay? I suppose not, it didn't work on my dad. Denying saying goodbye, thinking that he wouldn't go, but it didn't work. His plane was called and he went. I did catch him in time.

I'm older now, and know the only thing that would do is cause pain. Eliza gifts her most cherished possession to Sophia, a little handmade doll. Once everyone else has said their goodbye they're in front of me and in my arms. There are not enough words in the dictionary to properly describe how I'm feeling, nor could it be articulated sufficiently. I hug them tighter, holding back my sobs, and pray that they'll be all right.

I've never been much of a people person, and never felt comfortable around children. But these four have been like my own, could careless how their parents would feel if they knew that. They're my friends, my kids and my students. I love them so much.

Finally forcing myself to pull away, and wipe their tears, I kiss their cheeks. Leaning in so my forehead is touching theirs my voice is soft. "I love you both so much, you remember that, and know that I'm always thinking of you, alright?"

They nod, and I kiss them one last time before they go. Miranda comes forward and hugs me tightly, speaking softly, her voice thick with tears. It seems that within moments they're in their car and driving away. D stands next to me as we watch until they can't be seen anymore.

"Lauren," Rick's voice comes from behind us, and I jump, not having heard him approach.

"Shit, Chief," Twisting to face him, a hand on my heart, I do my best to force a light expression. "You like doing that to me don't you?"

The look on his face says my best wasn't good enough. "We need to go."

"Yeah, okay."

"I want you in the RV, resting that foot." He brings his hand to my shoulder.

The care and understanding is a little too much for me right now. "Uh, yeah." Slipping away from his touch, my attention is on the ache in my ankle. "I'll just be going."

The RV is crowded: Jim, Amy, Andrea, D, Glenn, T-Dog and Jacqui, with Dale at the wheel. Carol and Sophia are with Rick, Lori and Carl in the Cherokee and Shane has a truck to himself. Daryl has another to himself and his brother's bike secured in the back.

Making it to the bed, giving Jim his space, my ankle is sore, throbbing with all the activity today. It doesn't help that my emotions are ready to bubble over; it feels safer to ignore those around me, save for D. She comes to sit beside me. Leaning my head against her shoulder, she takes my hand and rests her head on top of mine. It's not a moment later that Dale's pulling out and we begin our journey to the CDC.

As time passes, Jim starts getting worse. His skin is searing hot, his face is flushed and after every little bump he suppresses painful groans. Jacqui and I do our best to keep him cool, but it's too much. He wants it to end, to be with his family. When the RV breaks down, it's his request, his wish, to be left. This of course starts a squabble. Some argue that he shouldn't be left to turn. Daryl wants to shoot Jim; Rick and Shane want to leave him with a gun. Lori can't seem to believe they're all willing to go along with it and Amy's crying.

It's Jacqui who ends the quarrel.

"It's his decision, guys." Her tone is firm and her stance defensive.

"Rick," Lori turns on him, "can you really just leave him out here?"

Rick looks between Lori and Jacqui. "It is his decision, who are we to take that away from him?"

Lori's not pleased, and walks away. Jacqui's upset, we've been the ones to look after him. She had grown to care for him, even if it was just a short amount of time. The goodbyes are tearful, at least for those who got to know the man, and it feels wrong to drive away. But, it was his decision. No one has the right to deny him this. It's what he wants. I just wish there was more that could be done.

Despite all the drama, it didn't escape my notice that Lori switched vehicles. Hopefully this means she's chosen. If it's Shane, then I can pretend that there's hope for me and Rick. Though, doubtful he could feel the same, but his attention can focus on the apocalypse. He can get closure, be happy. Well, as happy as one can get these days.