She sits up and gazes around, a flush to her cheeks and a grimace as she swallows, grabbing a drink from the small canteen that's usually nestled in the black bag. She sighs and rubs at her face, then tugs on her hair before really looking at where she is.

"At least no one's around to see that." She sighs and wraps her arms around her knees. "God how pathetic am I? Why can't I just focus on finding the others? They won't leave without me, Lozzie of all people would ditch them to come find me. I'd do the same for her…" her face twists as though she's in pain, "if no one else was looking for her." A flash of her and Sophia's disappearance springs to mind. "She won't leave without me. Even if Daryl does. I can rely on her. I just need to survive long enough."

Despite her determination to endure, the day does runaway from her. Once she settles from her almost fall and subsequent break down, she ends up nestled into the trunk and ignoring the rest of the world.

Daryl realises she's once again ambling through a barely remembered camp. Amy materialises as she did before, happy and bubbly and a smile for everyone. She stands over four kids. Carl and Sophia seem to morph from the children they were to the young adults they have become. The Morale's kids are there too, but again, there's no definition.

"Fantastic." Amy smiles patting Carl on the head.

"I don't get this." Louis pouts.

Amy looks to the boy with softened gaze. "Let me have a look."

There's a huff from behind Daryl and she turns her head to see her best friend appearing out of nowhere. She too continues to shift from how she was at the beginning, to a slimmer, more mature version.

Lauren falls into a seat between the unclear Morale's boy and Sophia. "News flash, the end of the world happens to be upon us. What's with…?" Lauren motions to the mathematical problems.

Amy bristles and crosses her arms over her chest, her face changing to a thinner, gaunter vision and the - now - perpetual scowl. "Their education is important. It's only logical they keep it up."

Lauren rolls her eyes. "Phia, my darling, what are you doing?"

"BEDMAS." She replies.

Daryl frowns, looking between the two older girls. They never liked each other. Lauren almost disliked her on principal, perhaps too blonde? Too…

"You can't blame me." Lauren smiles knowingly at her. "She always needed too much attention to function, when she stopped receiving it, she kind of deteriorated."

"I didn't say anything."

Another snort from the taller girl. "You didn't have to, your dream, remember? I'm merely a conjuration of your mind. Now we can sit here and discuss the issue of you not tracking down your people, or you can let the memory continue as you remember."

"This is kind of Meta." Daryl huffs as she looks back to the frozen scene in front of her.

"Or you know, your brain on drugs."

"I haven't taken anything."

Lauren smiles at her, and raises an eyebrow.

The brunette motions to the scene in front of her. "Continue."

"You will have to continue helping yourself, you can't rely on others to save you all the time."

"Continue." Daryl points to the vision in front of her.

Lauren holds up her hands in surrender, "Okay, but I'm only saying." She returns to her place in the act and sneers at the work the kids are doing. "Why aren't they doing something they can benefit from?"

"This is beneficial." Amy glares. "The formulas and rules will be good for them."

"BEDMAS? How's this valuable? How will this be valuable? Fractions, geometry, those I can understand. They can use in this new world." She almost spits on the papers. "Amy, Order of Operations, not useful."

"You don't know that." The blonde steps closer, fists closed

Daryl frowns between the two, the animosity far more tense here than in reality. The two never came to blows. Then again, as the vision pointed out, this is her subconscious and she always did perceive their interaction worse than what actually happened.

She twists her hands together, not liking the scene. However, she does notice the muted sun starts to drop a little too fast, and before she knows it, she's in an empty campsite. There's the sounds of twigs snapping, groans and a smell of rotted meat.

With a deep breath and hacking cough, Daryl wakes to see a shambling corpse entering her sight. "At least the smell's explained."

Now knowing the direction of the farm, and the highway – which is a bit more south, Daryl prepares herself for the move. She's pretty sure the road's safer, at least she'll have cars and dividers between her and the creatures.

Halfway to the farm she was set upon by the zombies. Every direction she looks they're there, blocking any chance of escape. Now she's stuck up a tree, and her possible doom cluttered underneath. Perhaps she wasn't cut out for the end of the world. Maybe somewhere along the way she stopped being the independent woman she had been and changed into some sort of damsel in distress.

How long until she gives up?

How long until the walkers sneak up on her and devour her?

"Its times like these I forget it's the Apocalypse." Daryl sighs as she leans against the Hunter, as the two stare out over the small pond they stumbled upon.

A snort comes from behind her, as an arm tugs her closer to the solid chest behind her. "Ya shouldn't, that's when you git bit."

Daryl rolls her eyes. "I know." She huffs. "All I'm saying, is for all the drama, and the fear and stress, these moments are what keep me going."

He doesn't respond, she wasn't expecting him too, things like affection and emotion are still as foreign to him as the walking dead are to her. Instead, she turns her head a little and leans forward placing a chaste kiss to his chapped, dried lips. She raises her eyes to his and the feeling of contentment falls into place. She sighs and snuggles a little closer.

'Fuck' Daryl jerks awake and scrubs at her eyes, trying to keep the tears back. When it fails and the sob erupts, she lets the tears rain down. "I miss them so much.' She curls in on herself and allows herself to crumble. She's lost, alone, surrounded by living cadavers and to make matters worse, she's out of food and water.

Caught up in her grief she doesn't realise her rather loud and tearful weeping has attracted more to her. They knew something tasty was in the area, but the sound and smell of tears – despite not knowing what they are – alerts the only part of the brain still active and they focus on the tree.

Fortunately for the young woman, the branch she chose is too high for them to try anything, so she shifts and drifts back off - not ready to continue.

"I don't understand why he keeps brushing me off." Daryl curls on her bed, tears running down her face, and her head in her best friend's lap.

"Because he's an emotionally constipated coward." Lauren sighs as she runs her hand through Daryl's hair. "I can drown him for you."

She tries hard not to laugh, but she does, the casual way murder is offered, has her giggling. "No."

"I'll keep the best part of him for you, I mean, I can't promise that it won't forever be limp…"

Daryl lifts her head and gawks at her friend. "Lauren!"

She widens her eyes and holds up her hands in surrender. "What?"

Daryl's chuckle is subdued as she lays back down. "No." Her eyes roll at her friends' antics. "I don't want him dead, I want him to stop running away from me." She sighs and stares at the top of the tent. "He refers to me as his girl. Hell, Merle refers to me as his girl, yet when we're alone, to do, you know, couple-y things, he has to go hunting, or…or be anywhere other than with me."

"I know." Lauren continues running her hand through the other girl's hair. "But look who practically raised him…"

Daryl sighs loudly, "I know and for the most part I can understand." She sits back up and scrubs her face. "But, I'm tired of it. I want to sit and have him hold me and tell me everything's gonna to be okay. But he does it once and freaks out on me and then we're back to square one. Sometimes I wonder if maybe he just doesn't want to." She turns a mournful stare to the other girl. "What if he doesn't want this? What if I've forced…"

"Pah-lease." The red head rolls her eyes. "You know it's not true, I know it's not true. If the Cowardice Dick didn't want you, then you and he would never be an item. And for all his asshole-ness, Merle wouldn't have let this evolve." Lauren places a hand on Daryl's leg in comfort. "The Dick has so many issues you'd think he has a subscription…"

Daryl sniggers.

"…I can't imagine what's going through his head, but I do know, maybe you need to stop waiting for him to sort himself out and give him a hand. Or a kick up the ass. Frankly I'm all for the second one."

Another wave of despair hits Daryl, this time like a mac truck at high speeds. She's somewhere between her base camp and the direction of the farm. She has but an instant to decide whether to push through and continue, or to give in. What would giving up look like? She eyes her surroundings and seriously contemplates the fatal option.

Daryl drops the bag, slowly pivots to the oncoming dead and steps forward. She closes her eyes, and tenses as she waits for the inevitable pain which comes with being devoured. What catches her out, is the stench of rotted meat.

Her eyes open and she barely throws herself backwards as one lunges at her. Tears gather at the corner of her eyes, and there's a burning in her throat as it closes. She sucks in air and trembles. "I'm sorry." Lauren and Daryl's face flashes across her mind. "I'm so sorry."

There's more dead surrounding her, and her weakness has cost her. She grabs hold of her crow bar and stands.

She swings at the first one, impaling the head and managing to pull the weapon out to take out the one too close behind her. Unfortunately she isn't able to retrieve it to protect herself against the third one and she has to abandon the weapon. She kicks out and slams her foot into its stomach, giving her sufficient time to slip out her hunting knife, to jam it into the walker's head.

Hands seize her from behind, and she uses her weight against it, dropping like a sack of potatoes - tearing the arms as she does. She rolls away, coming back to her feet and throwing the knife - landing a perfect hit in the middle of the eyes.

She rolls away, coming back up to stand throwing the knife - landing a perfect hit in the middle of it's eyes.

It drops.

Groaning from behind and she dodges on instinct. She's able to twist to see a few more stumbling into view.

Her stomach rolls, her heart beats heavy in her chest and there's a sour taste in her mouth. She doesn't bother to pretend that she's not trembling as the rest of the dead make their way towards her.

To her shock and relief the end of a sword is there, staring at her through the head of a zombie. More meet the same fate.

Out from the bushes and foliage comes a woman in a dark cloak, dragging two jawless, armless dead men behind her.

"Oh my god." Daryl whispers.

Though she doesn't take long to come back to the situation and she lunges for her almost forgotten crowbar to help the other woman. They're back to back - unintentionally - before Daryl grabs the black bag and follows after the retreating figure.

"Thank you." Daryl murmurs.

The woman nods, eyeing Daryl warily. "Surprised you lasted so long."

A grimace crosses her face. "Wasn't my best moment."

"You at least passed."

It's Daryl's turn to eye the woman. "My moment?"

The dark skinned woman waits until they're in an empty clearing. There's a pond of fresh water nearby and she undoes her cloak as she heads towards it, still pulling along her pets. "Everyone nowadays have occasions of…" she trails off, her brows furrowed, "…vulnerability, either they become food, or they're fortified enough to survive until next time."

Daryl snorts in derision, "And sometimes their's come at inopportune times and kills them regardless."

"Sometimes. But not you."

"Thanks to you." Daryl steps closer, eyeing the dead on the chains, and holds out her hand. "Daryl, and I am seriously thankful for the save."

"Michonne." Her clasp is strong.

Daryl's eyes go to her companions. "And them?"

Michonne's eyes soften briefly, before hardening as she turns away. "People I once new."