I first want to apologize for the MONTH wait on this! D: I didnt mean to have such a lapse in updates but it's been a busy as HELL last few weeks. I had AP exams and then graduation and then a severe case of writers block on this chapter and i dont know why. T.T But here it, finalllly, is. :)

It's a bit fillerish but it gives a little more past on Audrey and it's leading into episode one where the group meets Rick :) Which i'm already working on so hopefully not so long between updates :I

Hope you enjoy and remember to review! :D We hit 100 reviews which i want to thank you guys from the bottom of my heart! D: I love you guys and thanks for making Audrey's story so liked and loved :)

Enjoy :)

Chapter 15: I've Got Some Friends on the Corner

"Audrey?"

Silence. Scrape. Scrape. Then—

"Dree could you…can you please come down? We just want to talk."

I bite my lip, hard, and don't answer, focusing on the whetstone between by fingers and the tanto I have propped against my upturned knee, honing it into razor sharpness. The edges of my fingertips ache and sting, full of invisible slices and cuts, victims of an already keen blade but I don't stop. I don't want to stop.

Beneath me, I hear Amy sigh and mutter something unintelligible to Glenn who whispers frantically back. They've been going at this for well over an hour now. I don't know why they keep trying. It's a little obvious that I don't feel up to talking right now. I mean I did climb this fucking tree, almost to the near damn top. And that was after I had tried to escape to my tent…and then the quarry…and then just basically anywhere to be alone. But no. Glenn and Amy here just had to be fucking nosy and placating, trying to calm me down while simultaneously trying to weasel out answers.

Yeah well, I am in no goddamn mood for games. Why can't they just go do something productive and useful and leave me be like everyone else has?

Oh. Because they're my "friends." Right.

Sighing, I let my head fall forward, butting against the hilt of the blade on my knee as I close my eyes. I'm fucking tired. Before, right after it happened and after the shock had worn off, I had felt angry, livid beyond belief. I had wanted to rage and spit and break things. Hell, I kind of did just that too. Glenn and Amy had been babbling at my side, rapid-fire questions and concerns but as I kept staring at the place where Daryl had disappeared, where he was already going…going…gone, slipping into the woods that he knew like the back of his hand and that I still couldn't walk a straight line in…well I just couldn't take it any more. I could still feel the blood dripping down my wrist from Shane's jagged nails and iron grip and Daryl's words had been throbbing in my head like a second, discordant, heartbeat.

"Ya ain't worth the goddamn trouble."

"Ya ain't worth the goddamn trouble."

"Ya ain't worth the goddamn trouble."

Glenn had touched me then, just a brush against my shoulder, but it was enough to ignite the power keg of rage in me and I had whirled on him with a fierceness that distantly startled even me. I had ignored his wide brown eyes, the pupils blown wide, the drawn cast of his face. I had shoved away all the memories of him laughing and smiling at me, the recalls of camaraderie and friendship and pushed words off my tongue like they are coated in glass. I had snarled for him not to fucking touch me. AndGlenn had blinked at the venom in my voice, the steel, unused to this version of me, thrown for a loop by my vehemence and anger, but the boy was smart, wouldn't be alive if he wasn't, and had enough common sense to release my elbow slowly. I had glowered at the young man, hot enough that he flinched and half raised his hands as if to ward me off and, somewhere under my tumultuous emotions, I had felt a flare of sobering guilt at the spark of fear in Glenn's eyes, in the quiver of Amy's lower lip, the fact that the only friends I have left were afraid of me but ignored it as I shoved past them, throwing a caustic warning to leave me alone over my shoulder.

I hadn't known where I was going, just blindly letting the pulse of awayawayaway under my skin lead me, but I hadn't made it halfway to my tent before I became aware that someone was following me. I could hear their footsteps, panting breaths. The thought had pissed me off and I veered to the side suddenly, hoping to lose my pursuer in the woods. But whoever they were persisted, crashing loudly after me as I broke into a sprint down the quarry road. When I had gone halfway and still hadn't lost them, in a brief flash of fear I had thought Merle because, really, he should have been following me. I knew he saw me running after his…brother. He must know I didn't exactly listen to his "advice." And the older Dixon had seemed dead serious about his threat, I was surprised he hadn't slit me ear to ear then, just to be rid of me. But when I turned to confront what I thought was going to be 6'4, 230 lbs easy of solid and thick, drugged addicted son of a bitch…I had instead found Glenn and Amy, twenty yards away, panting and dirty from running after me but no less determined. The sight had surprised me but didn't mollify my anger. In fact, it had made it worse because what the fuck had I said about leaving me the fuck alone?

Amy had gasped out something, a plea to just talk, but I ignored her, turning back around and making it look like I was going to head to the quarry anyway, plan half assed formulated in my head. The two of them stuttered after me but, at the last second, I spun around and hauled ass back up the hill, blasting past them, feeling phantoms tugs as they grasped me. It made my calves hurt like a bitch and my lungs felt like they had been set on fire but I had enough stamina and speed to outpace Glenn and Amy by at least 20 seconds. Not too long but long enough for me to throw myself at a tree on the outskirts of camp, scrabbling up the trunk until I was perched on the highest branch that could hold my weight, panting and sweating. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had been enraged that I was forced to climb a damn tree just to get some peace and quiet, that people couldn't just listen to what I said but that particular irritation faded as I realized I had achieved what I wanted.

Being alone.

Ok so yeah. Amy and Glenn found me within ten fucking minutes, Dale having pointed me out when the younger two were asking around. The bastard. But, as it turned out, Amy was afraid of heights and Glenn, though he tried, just couldn't seem to reach me, couldn't find the footholds I somehow had to get higher than ten feet off the ground while I was precariously sitting about thirty to forty feet in the air. Maybe I should have been scared, one wrong move and I would have been tumbling to my death, but I had spent the better half of a month sleeping in various trees to stay alive so my previous apprehension with heights was kind of moot point by now. Things kind of took on a different perspective when dead people were shambling around trying to eat you.

And so here I am. Locked in my self-made tower of bark and leaves with my previous anger draining out of me like water through a sieve, leaving me worn out and tired, like an empty, used up, husk. I didn't use to be like this. I remember that when I was younger, 9 or 10 or so, I could go for days and days, ticked off and ready to blow even as Mom did her best to pacify me, kind words and even kinder actions. I was a little shit of a kid, had an ocean deep pit of rage and insolence and anything of that ilk in me but...seems like Mom and Sensei managed to poke a hole in that pit over the years, turning it into a sieve with a rapid emptying rate because I'm going from enraged, to pissed, to angry, to irritated to just fucking done.

My head is throbbing, flashes of red behind my closed eyelids. The pain causes me to groan and roll my forehead against my knees, skin slick with sweat that the slowly setting sun had managed to wring out of me. It's getting close to dinnertime, close to sundown, but I'm really not inclined to move. In fact, I'm not feeling particularly inclined to do much of anything but breathe at this time. I should probably sharpen my katana, my tanto is well past done, but I just don't feel the motivation to lean forward and pull the sheath off, even if it's digging into the length of my spine, the already tense muscles of my shoulders. I'm fucking lazy. Sue me.

"Audrey? Come on. Please?"

Distantly, I hear the scrape of shoes on bark, a groan of protest as weight is applied to an unsteady branch. Seems like Glenn is giving climbing another go. Got to give the dude props for persistence.

A thought occurs to me suddenly, sharp and painful, and it causes a bitter smile to pull at my chapped lips, stretch against the curve of my knee.

I don't know why Glenn and Amy keep trying. I ain't worth the goddamn trouble after all.

Even hours later, the words still twist harshly in my chest, leaving me sore and bruised, like I've just been punched in the solar plexus.

Opening my eyes, I'm confronted with the blurry and unfocused sight of my dirt-streaked knee, the smudges of green leaves beyond that. Salt stings at my eyes but from sweat, slick beads sliding down my forehead, across my eyebrows and down my cheeks. There are no tears. I haven't cried and I don't think I'm going to at this point. There's…well no point. Though, in the beginning, I nearly did, out of pure frustration and anger if nothing else.

God. Could that whole situation have been any more fucked up? All I had wanted was to go out and help Daryl bring in some food. Keep people fed. Keep that hollowed, starving look out of Sophia's eyes, Carl's thinning cheeks, the pointed knobs of Louis' shoulders and Eliza's elbows. And what did I get in return? A whole lot of fucking bullshit. The memory, one that I've been trying to fight back for over an hour now, comes surging forward, tired of being ignored, and my head to falls back with a groan, smacking solidly with the tree trunk behind me, my thoughts swimming with images and words.

It's all bits and pieces, segments, tidbits, a kaleidoscope of feelings.

Daryl. Half-hearted smirks and bright blue eyes. "Fine. But ya better keep up. I ain't slowin down for ya."

Carl. Pale face like the moon, the vaulted arch of his gaping mouth. "Mom! Shane!"

Shane. Narrowed eyes and an accusation I could almost taste. "Carl said Dixon grabbed you and that the two of you were leaving."

Shane. Arrogant and self-entitled; presumptuous and authoritative; grinding bones and blood on my wrist. "I said no. You aren't going out to the middle of nowhere with nothing but some backwoods hillbilly as your backup."

Daryl. Fed up. Snarls and scowls and hocked up spit. "Jesus Fucking Christ!"

Daryl. The hunter; impatient; white gritted teeth and a shouldered crossbow. "All of ya'll can argue all ya damn want. Yer wastin my fuckin time."

Daryl. Spiteful. Hateful. A stranger with daggers for eyes and acid on his lips. "Ya ain't worth the goddamn trouble."

The whole thing makes my head feel like its thirty pounds, makes me just want to close my eyes and go to sleep and not wake up for years. I'm just so fucking exhausted by now. I'm not even angry anymore, not really. Some of it's still there but it's dying, fading away, an ember in the ashes of a previous inferno. I just don't have the energy for it.

Fuck. And you know what's the real kicker? At this point…I'm not even sure whom I was so angry with in the first place. My brain automatically wants to point to Shane, especially when I look down and see the scratches in my wrist. They're pretty deep, carved furrows with drying blood scabbed over them, the still intact skin a rapidly darkening purple. The sight alone makes that ember in me give a dull flare again but not much more. I still think Shane was wrong, is wrong, about everything he said. I still don't think he had the right to boss me around like some child, still don't think that he had any right to lay a hand on me, even if it was "for my own good", and I sure as hell don't think he was right in accusing Daryl like that. But other than feeling that he was wrong, and having his general sense of frustration and failure, I don't feel much towards the former cop. It might be shock. I might wake up tomorrow and be rearing to go, out for blood, wanting to kick Shane's ass but right now…I'm a little more level headed, if not a bit distant and detached. I know why Shane did what he did; I can see his point of view. I just don't care to find him and explain my own perspective, smooth things over between us. Maybe's he's feeling guilty about the whole thing right now; maybe he's not. Either way, I'm done with him today; I'm done with everyone. Done with his and Lori's self-righteous advice; done with Carl and Sophia and their childish misunderstandings; done with Glenn and Amy and the fact that they just wouldn't understand…whatever everyone was so riled up about, because I still don't see the big deal in hunting with Daryl if it had kept them all fed but hey, I'm done with wondering why too.

But most of all…I'm done with Daryl. The thought makes my stomach twist in knots but I have no other option. That man is nothing but an ulcer and an aneurysm wrapped in one big clusterfuck of frustration. All I keep doing is trying to help him but it's like I'm stuck in this fucked up dance with him and I don't know the steps. One-inch forward, five miles back. Every time I think I'm gaining some ground with him, he slams a door in my face or yanks the rug out from under me. I've tried…I've tried because at first I felt indebted to him and then I felt…well I guess I should pick my friends better huh? Or better yet, no friends at all. Make all this apocalypse shit easier right? Don't know why I keep shooting myself in the foot like this but oh well. What's done is done. I'm beat up and tired and hungry but I'm sure as hell not sticking around for dinner. All I'm going to do tonight is go back to my tent and sleep as long as I fucking want. If we all starve to death before I wake up well…life's a bitch. I've learned to get over it.

Heaving out a sigh, I shift to put my tanto away and tuck the whetstone into my pocket. My body aches, is sore in a thousand different places from being curled up in this tree but I do my best to ignore the twinges of discomfort as I swing my leg over the medium sized branch I've been straddling for the past hour. Looking down is a dizzying drop, forty feet of branches and leaves and free space until you slam into the hard packed earth below. The sight gives me a small sense of vertigo, the world tilting slightly off axis, but I shove it away as I carefully slip down to the branch below me, digging jagged nails into harsh bark. The branches sway precariously as I make my painstaking way down to the ground below, my shoes skid more than once, losing purchase, but I just bite my lip and bear through it. It's not like I'm going to call for help anyway. I'm got up here and I'm going to get down on my own. Besides who was going to help me? Glenn and Amy are my best chances and they've already proved they couldn't scale this feat.

Oh shit. The thought of the duo distracts me for an instant and I lose my balance, glancing off a thick set tree limb and slamming harshly into the trunk, gasping. Bark scrapes across my cheek, my collarbone, driving the breath from my lungs but I'm, by some grace, still clinging to the tree, twenty feet up now. I grit my teeth as my heart races and bump my forehead sharply in scolding. Fucking idiot. If I have a death wish, there are much easier and less painful ways to go than falling on my head. Jesus.

But Glenn and Amy. Damn it. I didn't even think about them before I began my descent. I should have stayed up longer; I still don't want to talk. However, I had been too caught up in my own head and now I'm sure they've heard me, grunting and cursing as I climbed down. There's no way they hadn't. And Glenn can actually reach the height I'm at now so there's no point in stopping and I don't have the will, or the coordination, to climb back up. Son of a bitch. An hour of running and almost killing myself all for nothing because I still have to talk to them. Excellent. This day has been just wonderful.

Still berating myself, I have no choice but to finish my journey. It takes a while, a lot longer than it did to climb up, but maybe that's because I'm dragging it out as long as possible. There's only so long I can drag ass though and eventually, I'm sitting on the last branch, five feet in the air, swinging my legs. Well, here I go. Into the fucking lion's den. Let's just get this over with. Taking a deep breath, I slip off without any hesitation and fall to the ground, absorbing the impact with my knees. It still hurts, my back protests and my ankle rolls the slightest bit to the left, but I'm left relatively unscathed. As I straighten, I realize my eyes are closed and I tense, waiting for the barrage of questions and comments and just the general din of noise that's been chasing me all afternoon.

I don't expect the silence.

Well, it's not a complete silence. There's still the perpetual hum of the cicadas, the rustle of leaves in the stale wind, a barely tangible scent of decay in the air blown in from the city, and the undercurrent murmur of people walking through camp, a calm mutter, like a bubbling brook. But there are no questions, no rapid-fire inquiries, no concerns or comments. In fact, there is no Glenn and Amy.

I'm blinking stupidly at the spot where I last saw the two, high up above looking down with a bird's eye view. But they're gone, my immediate area clear of anything and everything that's not dirt, rocks, or trees. I look around, turning right, left, behind me, waiting for some kind of ambush, but there's no one around. I begin to wonder why, this new ingrained, instinctual fear of people just vanishing from one moment to the next, but after a split second, I banish the thought entirely. Glenn and Amy probably just gave up. They had been trying fruitlessly for an hour trying to get me to come down. It was about damn time.

Scrubbing a hand tiredly against my scalp, I glance the general direction of camp. I'm standing on the very outskirts, separated by a handful of yards and some shrubbery. Through the leaves I can see flashes of people, an arm, a turned back, and they all seem to be walking towards the RV, away from me but, of course, towards my tent. Rubbing tiredly at my eyes, I glance off into the distance. It'll be a chore, I'll be dirtier and aching even more by the time I'm done but I'll just have to go around, take the long way along the edges of camp to get back to my tent. Normally, I'd just cut through camp, get there in a under a minute but…I'd rather sleep in this fucking tree than wade through all those people, my neighbors, my…friends.

God, I'm just so tired.

"To hell with this," I mutter. Casting, one last wearied glance at the slivers of camp that I can see, I turn away and start to trudge towards my tent. Please, let Abby be out. Just please. My roommate is nice and all but today…just please.

I keep my eyes trained on the ground as I walk. I'm trying to make as little noise as possible, careful steps on soft dirt, minding my feet, the position of my arms, trying to blend in as much as I can with the woods I'm navigating through. Honestly, I'm probably doing a crap job. I mean, I'm wearing jean shorts and a dark navy top, not to mention I'm pretty fucking pale. And that's just looks. I'm light on my feet in sparring, when I fight, but put me in nature and I'm a bull in a china shop.

Or a trampling elephant as Daryl so kindly put it one time.

I wince at the memory. No. Don't think about it. Don't think about him.

I've already circled half of camp, almost to my destination but not just quite. And of course, because I'm me and I'd expect this, I have to cross right behind the RV to slip towards my tent, right behind where everyone has apparently congregated, if the crowd of bodies and din of voices I can now see and hear are any indication. I give half a thought to wonder if they are talking about me. Probably. Well, doesn't this feel like first day all over again. Whatever. Tent. Bed. Sleep. Forever. That's all I'm worried about right now. Everything else can take a back seat.

Biting my lip, I pay extra special attention to my feet, where my next step is landing, how much noise I will make. The lengthening shadows of sunset are helping me be stealthier, blend in better than the stark relief of midday but there's only so much I can be helped and it's not very much. Case in point, right as I reach the very edge of the Winnebago, I step right on top of a particularly large branch, the resulting snap making me flinch and throw myself against the vehicles warm siding. In my defense, the branch had been covered by a tuft of ankle high grass. Still, I'm holding my breath in the next few seconds, wondering if anyone heard me. Doesn't seem like it since the conversation goes on uninterrupted. I randomly think that for the apocalypse, these people don't have very good survivalist skills.

A sad thought strikes me of when did I start thinking of Glenn and Amy and Dale and Jacqui and Morales and everyone else whom I have grown close to in the past weeks as "these people." Guilt unfurls in my chest but I do my best to strangle it before its vines can drag me down. Sleep. I just need sleep.

Still plastered against the RV, I inch along until I reach the opposite side. There's a good five feet of empty space from the edge to the next batch of shrubs and coverage that I have to cross if I'm going to reach my tent. Of course, this empty patch is in direct line of sight from the front of the RV, where everyone is gathered. Wouldn't be fun if it weren't. Goddamn it. Taking a deep breath, I slip to the very edge and slowly, oh so slowly and carefully, peek around the corner of the RV to see exactly where everyone is standing and if there's a snowball's chance in hell for me to slip past with everyone turned away.

And, of course there isn't. The entire camp is standing not ten feet from me, huddled in a wide, loose, circle. T-Dog is the closest to me, his broad back turned as he stares across the circle, listening to who's talking. I follow what I assume is his line of sight and…Shane. The older man is talking animatedly to the group, words loud and echoing as his hands make articulate gestures. I don't know what he's saying; I don't particularly care. All I care about is the fact that is, the way he's standing, there's no way he is going to miss me if I try to bridge the distance from Winnebago to foliage and even if he, by some fucked up miracle, misses me, there's five other people that are bound to see me and no doubt call me out.

I whine under my breath, a whisper of a sound, and press my forehead harshly against the warm metal I'm pressed against. This just isn't fair. Granted, the world isn't but…come the fuck on. The siding isn't scalding, not anymore, but it's enough to make the position uncomfortable and I quickly pry my face away. Sighing, I shift so my back lies flat against the side of the RV and I slowly slide down to the ground, knees buckling and strength waning. I let my legs flop out in front of me, not wanting to curl up after the hour in the tree, and crane my neck back as I close my eyes. My head is still throbbing and my stomach is growling and fuck if I'm not getting more and more exhausted with each breath but there's not much I can do about it until the…"meeting" I guess is what to call it, is done. I only hope Shane wraps it up before dark because navigating through the woods in the day is difficult but at night? Damn near fucking impossible. At least for me. I'm pretty sure Daryl could do it no prob—

The hollow ache in my chest makes me halt the thought mid sentence. No. Stop. I'm not going to think about him. I'm not going to think about the hunter or what he said to me. I'm not going to think about how I was so sure we were working up to a nice camaraderie before everything went to shit. I'm not going to think about the fact that when he gets back from his hunt, a part of me still wants to keep trying, forgive and forget if only to just see that infuriating smirk and…son of a bitch. This not thinking about Daryl isn't going so well. I groan and throw my head back, listening in detachment to the low, hollow thud the motion produced.

Why? I can't help but wonder this now, now that I'm squatting in the dirt, hiding in the shadows, doing my best to be invisible to the people that are really all I have left in the world. Why do I keep trying with Daryl? I have Glenn and Amy as friends or I did. No…I think I still do. If they didn't care they wouldn't have chased me like they did. Again, there's that guilty bloom but I shove it away. So, I still have Glenn and Amy. And I'm sure if I swallow my pride and apologize, everyone else will eventually forgive me. Not that I have anything to apologize for since I still don't see what I did wrong but…anyway. If I think about it, Daryl, the Dixons in general, have really been the source of my problems since I came into camp. Daryl's the reason I've had to lie to my friends, the reason I have all these new, nifty little scars. And Merle's the reason I have to look over my shoulder every so often, the reason I have more fears than just walkers. Any sane person would have walk, more like ran, away from the two brothers weeks ago, done their best to stay as far fucking away as possible.

But I hadn't. Why?

I wish I could just say it was just due to the fact that Daryl brought me here, saved my life. That I was just trying to work off that debt and survive. But that doesn't account for everything else: for my numerous attempts at friendship, for my forgiveness of Daryl's less than stellar attitude, for me looking forward to our hunts and the small reprieves that follow, me reading to Daryl and the hunter shooting down everything with a precision and dryness that is just so him. An indebted person doesn't do that. I can't use that excuse. So what then? What's so different? What keeps me trying?

Furrowing my brow, I clench my eyes shut and think back to every encounter I've had with the younger Dixon, paying special attention to the most recent memories. Slowly, I begin to pick them apart. More often than not, Daryl annoys the crap out of me. Or at least he did in the beginning. He's perpetually growling and snapping, a scowl or glare affixed on his face. When I first met him, I thought he was just a dick. But…as time wore on…I realized that that's just how Daryl socializes. And after meeting Merle, I'm not surprised. Once I discovered that, I began to take everything Daryl did or said with a grain of salt. It made things a little bit more tolerable. And then, I guess once he decided that I wasn't just some other asshole that was going to judge and demand things from him…he was different. Not really changed. He still growls, snaps and glowers. But…sitting with him wasn't all that horrible. In fact, it could be rather nice. The memory of him laughing, a deep throated, short lived chuckled reverberates through my skull. It could be really nice.

I try to remember the last time I felt something like that. Something easy and comfortable. My times with Amy and Glenn don't count, not really, because I have different feelings when I am with them. Amusement sometimes, a bright and sharp happiness when they make a joke or just smile at me. But it's different when I am with them than when I am with Daryl. Amy and Glenn…well they like to talk. Fill the silence. It's not necessarily a bad thing. After a month of silence, with the flames of Dalton at my back, it's a welcome thing. But there are times where I don't want to talk, when I'm tired of all the noise and just want a second of stillness and quiet. I guess that's why I've ended up down by the quarry so much, sitting on that boulder, and I guess that's why I also like Daryl's company. He doesn't need to talk. Shit, I'm almost certain he's allergic to it. At times, it grates on my nerves, just like Amy and Glenn's perpetual talking, but together, all my three friends, because damn it, no matter how much he or I try to deny it that's what Daryl is, they balance each other out, perfectly serendipitous.

Just like Kaleigh, Mathias, and Annie Marie.

Their names, so sudden and unexpected after so long of trying to repress them, bring a knot to the base of my throat and I gasp with the feel of it. With all that's happened in the past few days, especially today, it shouldn't be surprising and yet I still try my hardest, in vain, to stop the images as they come unbidden, blurring my vision with molten and unexpected tears.

They're mostly just snatches of memory, incoherent, bits and pieces of a broken jigsaw puzzle.

Kaleigh's pin straight golden hair, fluttering in the wind as we walk our way to school. Her bell like laughter a sharp, inappropriate peal in the middle of the library.

Mathias' jet black hair pinned back with sparkling butterfly barrettes, his even brighter smile as he strutted through the hallways with pride.

And Annie Marie, sweet Annie Marie. Her corkscrew auburn hair, all sleek and smooth for prom. Her not so covert nudges to my ribs, accompanied by her innocent version of a smirk, when Jason Spencers, the most popular and sought after boy in our school, waltzed into the room.

My friends, my three best friends. The people I've known since I came to live with Mom. The people who did not pity me for who I was, who I had been, but accepted me as I came. The people that I left behind in Dalton.

I've tried not to think about them in the past weeks. At first, it had been a means of survival. I couldn't think about them because I had to keep going. I had to make it to Atlanta and wallowing in sorrow would only end up in me being careless and then me being dead. So I had shoved the mere memory of my friends into the dark recesses of my mind, in an effort to survive. And then, when Daryl found me, and brought me back here, camp life engulfed me. Demanded my every attention. There were chores to do and things to clean, to cook, to fix. And there were the people, always the people, the survivors just like me. Carl and Sophia, looking for lessons, English and sword alike. Amy and Glenn, new friends, different friends, who kept on talking so their own memories did not consume them. Lori and Carol. Shane and Dale. Jim and Jacqui and Abby and Lina and so many other faces and voices and bodies just surrounding me at every second of the day.

This is the first time that I've allowed more than just a fleeting thought of a memory to remind me of all that I have lost. My friends. My family. Just like Mom and Irina and Sensei. All the people closest to me. Gone.

And suddenly, with the recollections of all my loved ones, almost like an afterthought, comes an epiphany, like they are trying to point something out to me. It's like a bolt of lightning.

It's them. They're the reason I'm being stubborn and stupid. Why I won't concede to Merle, to Shane, to fucking anyone and just let Daryl skate off my back, wash off my hands. It's because I've lost so many people, enough friends, already. Maybe it's some kind of desperation in me, a yearning for a human connection when all my previous ones have been severed. Maybe it's the way Daryl reminds me of something in my past, recalls memories and words that I thought I had forgotten long ago. Maybe it's a combination of those things. I can't say for sure but it's something along those lines. Either way, selfishly, for my own personal reasons that I refuse to begin to untangle, I want Daryl as a friend.

"Would you approve?" I ask the memories of my friends. "Would you approve of my choice? My foolishness? Of Daryl himself?"

In the back of my mind, I'd like to say they would. I'd like to think that Mathias would have run Daryl over with a critical eye, clucked his tongue at the whole redneck getup, but given me a secretive wink of acceptance nonetheless. I'd like to think that Annie Marie would have smiled, bright and bubbly, and giggled into my ear. Above anything else, I'd love to believe Kaleigh would have cocked her eyebrow, along with her hip in that devil may care pose she was so good at, and say something witty and sarcastic but follow up with an invitation of friendship to Daryl, just because she knew I wanted it. But I don't know if any of that would happen. I will never know.

Because I hadn't seen Mathias since two weeks before Dalton fell, when the schools began to close, when the scared whispers became more than just whispers, when parents started to keep their kids at home at all times. Annie Marie's family had left a week prior to that, back to her mother's family farm, somewhere in the hills of Georgia. I can still remember the smell of her hair as she hugged me goodbye, sunshine and daisies, the tears in her gray eyes when she said she'd see me when this all blew over. I can still remember her small figure, looking out the back of her father's pickup, dainty hand pressed against the back window as I waved goodbye.

And Kaleigh…

Kaleigh…

Before I can finish a thought, I hear my name, as if at a distance, and slam back into reality. Blinking away my unshed tears, I look up sharply, turning my head from side to side, thinking someone must have found me and called out. But there's no one around. I'm still alone. Confused, I purse my lips and think that perhaps I'm hearing things, ghosts calling my name, but then I hear it again, loud and clear, and I realize it's Amy, talking just on the other side of the RV.

"I said what about Audrey?" I hear her repeat and I blink stupidly, finally starting to listen to the conversation taking place just a few feet away.

Silence answers her question. It's two beats later, when it's obvious no one is going to respond, that she continues.

"She isn't going to be happy about being left out of this. And she might have some input." I don't know what this is but Amy sounds equal parts pleading and determined. I can just imagine the squared line of her usually soft jaw, the resolved light in her blue eyes when she really wants something.

Someone snorts and it's a derisive noise, scornful and unamused. "Yeah well Audrey's not very happy about much right about now," Shane says and my teeth grind together at the sudden flare of irritation the man's voice brings up. "And there's nothing left to input. The group's been set. They leave in the morning."

Group…oh. The city, supply run. I suddenly remember Shane pulling something out of his ass about a group before. I had forgotten in the wake of…everything else. But that's what this meeting was about. Everyone was coordinating, organizing. I try to think back and remember if Amy and Glenn had called something up to me about this meeting but it's all just muffled noise and undistinguishable syllables. I hadn't been listening before and I can't remember anything now. A part of me, the part that always wants to help and be all goody fucking two shoes, feels a pang of hurt of being left out of this collective group gathering. But the rest of me, fed the fuck up and tired and selfishly just wanting to go to bed, can't seem to give a fuck. I tried to do my part in getting supplies earlier. I was…out voted. So, this doesn't concern me, not one fucking bit. I close my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, jaw working in irritation. I hope this is almost over because I am this close to just getting up, stealth be damned, and walking straight through camp and into my tent. I might even smile at Shane on my way there, just for the fuck of it.

For a few moments, people mutter and murmur to each other and I'm getting ready for Shane to like bang his proverbial gavel and adjourn everyone when Glenn suddenly speaks up, quiet but forceful.

"I want Audrey to go."

Everything grinds to a halt, people chocking on their sentences, and my eyes pop open again, bulging out of my skull as I gape at the forest in front of me. "What?" Shane, of course it's Shane, speaks up finally, word hoarse like he had to spit it out. Oh shit. Now, I have to see this.

There's a shuffling noise and, as quietly as I can, I scramble to the side of the RV and peek around the corner, on my hands and knees in the dirt. I can see Glenn in the gap between T-Dog and Jim's legs, shifting and squirming where he's standing, kicking at the ground. The sun is setting behind me so Glenn has to squint when he lifts his head and I see the flustered tint to his tanned skin, the way he's biting his lip in discomfort. "I…I mean if she wants t…if she says yes, I'd like her to go." Everyone, the people I can see anyway, is staring at the young man in shock and he quickly tries to explain himself and hell, I really want to hear this.

"Audrey's…well besides you, Shane, and…um…a few others, Audrey's the only one that knows how to really yield a weapon." I raise an eyebrow at his words because I'm sure by "a few others" he means the Dixons but apparently their name is taboo now. "You know how she is with that sword," Glenn continues. "And she's fast as hell. She'd…she's be an asset in the city."

When he finishes, he looks to Shane for the older man's response but I'm still gazing at Glenn and that guilt comes back full force now, pushing aside all my I don't give a crap attitude because, shit. Even after everything, Glenn's still, blatantly, my friend. Regret, for the way I acted towards him and Amy, is not to far behind and soon I'm feeling abjectly miserable. Damn this bleeding heart of mine.

I can't see Shane's expression from this angle but by the stony silence, I can guess it is not exactly approving. "You've already got five people going, including you. That's six going into the city. More people would be a mistake. Ya know how big groups do that close to…danger Glenn. Ya don't need Audrey," Shane says, tone neutral but with an underlying sharpness, and as one, everyone flinches at the thought of what that danger really is.

The former cop sounds logical and, any other time, completely right. But I can almost taste the bullshit in his words because fucking really? Not a few hours ago he was complaining that Daryl and I going into the woods alone was too few people. Now he's complaining me going to the city is too many. The excuses are different but the intent is the same: keep Audrey in camp. And because Glenn is smart, in no way dumb or slow, he sees through Shane just as quickly. I can see it in the way his eyes narrow, in the way he purses his lip, and the way a muscle in his cheek jumps, like he wants to say something. But Shane was a cop, can read people like an expert poker player, and he can see how Glenn isn't done, that he has more to say. That's exactly why he claps his hands together, loud and dismissive, and says, "Alright. That's settled. All of ya'll on the trip tomorrow ya leave at dawn so meet here. Other than that, let's get dinner started."

Glenn opens his mouth, one last effort, but people are already moving, their "leader" having released them. Amy quickly sidles up to Glenn and spares him an apologetic glance but the younger man just shakes his head and shrugs with one shoulder. From this distance, I can see him mouth the words I tried to her.

I shouldn't say anything. I should just turn away and slip back into the brush like I planned to, now that everyone is drifting further away, towards the campfire to dinner. This is the opening I've been waiting for. My goal of sleep and rest and being alone is literally in sight, the top of my tent twenty yards away. I said I was done. I had offered my help and been shot down, by more than one person. I'd done my share. And yet, before I know it, I'm slipping out from behind the Winnebago, stepping out from the shadows and people glance half-heartedly at me before they do a double take and gape. It simultaneously gets too loud and way too quiet as I bite the inside of my cheek and force myself not to squirm, knowing how I must look, knowing what everyone must think. I ignore all of it.

I don't know if it's just some of my old rebelliousness, the shit that made me stand next to Daryl and stand up to Shane, or if it's sensei's mantra of not giving up that's resounding in my heard or just the fact that I'm realizing the danger Glenn's putting himself in, going deep into the city to keep us fed, and I can't stand the thought of letting him get hurt because I was being whiny and selfish, but either way I find myself standing only a few feet away from a shocked Amy and a surprised Glenn and all I can do is purse my lips and clear my throat and feel awkward as fucking hell.

"Dr…Audrey," Amy finally sputters out, beating me to the punch. I don't miss the way she retracts her usual nickname, like she isn't exactly sure she's allowed to calm me that. "What…where did you…come from?" Her voice is quiet, her words hesitant, her eyes wide and uncertain and even if I wasn't wrong in my decision concerning hunting with Daryl, I was wrong in treating Amy and Glenn the way I did, even if I was upset, and I do owe them an apology.

Chewing absentmindedly on my lip, I sheepishly shrug my shoulders and tuck my fingers into the back pocket of my shorts. "Uh…I was just…making my way back to my tent when I thought I should come talk to you guys…first." Amy blinks at me in bewilderment, no doubt remembering how I had specifically made clear that I didn't want to talk, and I can't help but coloring in shame. I huff out a breath and reach up to rub the back of my neck, averting my eyes to a spot just over Glenn's shoulder. Come on Audrey. Man the fuck up.

"Ok…look. First things first…I'm sorry," I begin and out of the corner of my eye, I see Glenn's jaw fall open and Amy inhale sharply. "Not about the whole…hunting thing. I'm not apologizing for that but um…afterwards…I shouldn't have snapped at you. I was just…upset but still. That's no excuse. So…I'm sorry. Truly."

The words awkwardly fumble out of my mouth but I think it's more due to the fact that I can feel everyone's eyes on me than the actual action itself. I can feel one particular set burn holes through the back of my neck and I don't have to turn around to know it's Shane, probably hearing how I'm not the least bit contrite about other things. Yeah well, tough shit. This isn't about you Shane. This is about my friends Glenn and Amy and the fact that I want to help them just as much as I wanted to help Daryl and this time, I'm not taking no for an answer.

I'm left shifting uncomfortably in the dirt for a few moments as Glenn and Amy process my words. In that time, I drum up the courage to actually look at them. Glenn's stands to the right, 5 foot 9 and kind of dirty. His grey t-shirt is soaked through with sweat, sweat that I can see beading on his brow beneath the brim of his red cap, and his over shirt, a white, baseball looking number, is streaked with dirt and dust and what looks like…pollen, bright and yellow on his shoulders. I don't have to glance down to my own arms to know I have the same color dusted across my skin, from that tree that I had spent and hour sitting in and that Glenn had spent an hour standing beneath, trying to coax me down. One look at Amy shows that she's in a near identical state, her jeans coated in dirt and her pink t-shirt grubby from running after me. I grimace with guilt.

Glenn is the first to speak up this time and I find myself locking eyes with him, seeing understanding and his own apology in chocolate brown orbs. "We uh…didn't mean to make you more upset Audrey. We just…wanted to make sure you were ok. You were bleeding and…" He trails off and looks just the slightest bit uncomfortable as he drops his voice and adds, "And you looked like you were going to cry."

I have to suddenly curb the wild urge to brush my cheeks and look for the tear tracks that I know aren't there. I hadn't cried. Kind of wanted to but I hadn't. And still…Glenn and Amy saw. I feel embarrassed but more than that…I don't know. Grateful? Touched? Something of that ilk because I was an asshole and my friends still tried to comfort me. Staring at the two of them, I blink and see the ghostly visages of Kaleigh and Mathias superimpose their way on Glenn and Amy's faces. Friends. Past and present. And just as important.

"I know," I tell him, pulling on the fringes of my fucked up hair. I wrinkle my nose and sigh. "I was just…I don't know. I just needed some time alone to think and…stuff." Wow. Very articulate Audrey. Pulitzer prize for you. "I didn't mean to take it out on you though."

Amy smiles, tentative and soft beside Glenn. "We know that to. Just worried you know? Are you…are you ok now?" she asks and I can see in the way she bites her lip that she's half expecting me to turn tail and sprint away. I cast her an equally timid grin.

"Better," I respond. "Little worse for wear though. Almost fell out of that damn tree a few times on my way down."

Shaking his head, Glenn snorts and I feel some of the tension between us dissolve, melt away like ice before the sun. "How the hell did you even get up that high? I got like…10 feet and that was all I could reach."

Smile widening, I lean forward and whisper, "I'm half monkey," like it's the world's biggest secret. Mirroring grins stretch across Glenn and Amy's lips and, suddenly, it is almost like today didn't happen and we are all right again. I can still see the unasked question in their eyes, flickering like a shadow, but neither of them ask it and I don't answer it. At least not now, with everyone else drawing back towards us. I don't want to talk about Daryl or Shane or any of that shit but…Glenn and Amy deserve to not be lied to so…I resolve to tell them later.

Amy reaches out, still slow, like she's giving me the chance to draw back, and flips a strand of hair into my eyes. I protest half-heartedly but she's already laughing. "I actually don't doubt that," she says and her blue eyes are shinning. "I also think you're part deer or something, the way you run. Do you have hooves in those shoes and a tail I don't know about?"

I smile around the flinch at the deer reference, the voice of a deeper memory echoing in my head with the words, "Ya ran from me like ya did, fuckin sprintin through the woods like a god damn deer." Amy now, Daryl later.

Making my eyes bulge comically, I gasp and put a hand to my mouth. "How did you know?" I stage whisper and both Glenn and Amy roll their eyes. The motion is almost as warm as a hug and it portrays their forgiveness just as well.

"Yeah yeah. Let's get some food in the chimera then before she starves to death," Amy teases and I can't help but jokingly point out that a chimera is a blend of lion, snake and goat, not human, monkey, and deer. The glare that earns me is sharp and poignant and only a little bit heated. Lifting an arm, Amy stabs a finger towards the campfire. "Dinner. Now."

I laugh, a bubbly feeling, as I start to turn but the sound dies in my throat as I catch sight of Shane, staring at me, leaned up against the front of the RV. And just like that, I remember why I walked out into the open to begin with. The city, the supply run, Glenn wanting me to go and Shane saying no. And, just like that, my smile slips from my lips and my easy mood evaporates. Shane isn't glaring at me; he doesn't even look upset. In fact, if anything, he looks sorry, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his head and looking up at me through his lashes. He notices me staring and tries to smile at me but it falls flat when I don't reciprocate.

Behind me, Amy and Glenn grow silent and tense when they see whom I'm staring at. They don't say anything but I know they're worrying about me having another outburst or, better yet, running away again. From the wary way Shane is regarding me, he's thinking along the same lines. Well…how bout I surprise people? Again…but this time in a good way. Anyway.

Turning around, I cock my head and smile, disarming. "Hey Glenn?"

The man starts at my voice, looking concerned but answers anyway. "Y…yeah?"

"Follow me for a second would you? I need to talk to someone and then we can get some food."

Glenn looks hesitant but I don't give him a second to question me because I'm spinning back around and already walking towards Shane. Amy gives a startled meep but it sounds like she's following me as well because I hear two sets of feet shuffle the dirt behind me.

Watching me approach, Shane blanches of all color, brown eyes going wide as I get closer. This is obviously not what he was expecting and I feel dully satisfied that I've thrown him off balance once more. I come within a few feet of the former cop and stop, giving him, and me, some space.

"Hey Shane," I say. My voice is light and pleasant enough but by the way Shane straightens and widens his stance, you'd think I'd come up yelling.

"Audrey," he responds cautiously. "You uh…want to talk?"

I nod and Shane exhales harshly and opens his mouth, probably about to launch into some speech, but I shake my head and hold up a hand, stopping him before he can start. He blinks at me, confused, but closes his mouth all the same, wincing at the same time as he looks at the blood that's dried on my wrist. I drop my hand quickly after that. Once again, I can feel all kinds of eyes on me but I do my best to ignore them as I think about what I want to say.

There's still that angry ember in me, a flicker, a flare, that wants to yell at Shane, read him the riot act, but it's an urge I can curb. Doing that would only make things worse and I don't even know if it would make me happy in the short run. So I ixnay that idea. But what do I say then? Because I'm not sorry, not for what he probably wants me to be sorry for. I more than likely should have thought this through before I walked over here but it's already done so I'm just going to wing it here.

"I just want to say I'm sorry. For blowing up at you. I still don't agree with what you said but…I shouldn't have reacted so poorly. So, I'm sorry."

Shane looks as blown away as he did when I first yelled at him and even if I can't see their faces, I bet everyone else is wearing a similar expression. I guess I can't blame them. From my performance earlier, they were probably expecting me to come after Shane with my katana, not an apology. But, for what I need, I have to apologize and, honestly, it does make me feel a little better. Holding grudges, being pissed, that takes up too much energy nowadays and with trying to survive and all, I just can't spare it.

"O…oh," he stutters, fumbling. "I…oh. Um all right. Well…I'm…I'm sorry too. I was...ya know…a dick. Didn't mean to hurt your arm but I did and…sorry."

Shane's even less articulate with his apology than I was. That fact makes me feel a little bit better. I wave him off dismissively. "I've had worse, don't worry. It's not even that deep."

There's a little suspicion in Shane's gaze now, because the cuts are a little deep, there's enough blood to prove it, but he purses his lips and nods anyway. Some tension eases out of his shoulders, the set of his jaw. "Ok. Well…still…sorry. Um…how bout I patch you up though?" He jerks his head behind him, towards the RV. "Dale has some bandages left and ya don't want an infection."

I smile and shrug. "All right but um…I want to talk to you about something else first."

Something in my voice must tip me off because the tentative smile that had been creeping up on Shane's lips twitched and died again. His eyes narrow and there's that suspicion again. "What about?" he asks and already, I can hear the steel that was in his voice before, the no nonsense, you will listen and like it, tone. I do my best to not let it fan the ember in me.

Taking a deep breath, I step back until I'm abreast of Glenn, leaning him just the slightest as I look Shane dead in the eye. "I want to go with Glenn and the rest of the group into the city. I heard what Glenn said and he's right. I'm fast and, out of everyone, I'm the only one that knows his or her way around a weapon; that truly knows how to fight. I want to help." I say the last words slowly, strongly and with emphasis.

And still, Shane seems to not hear me. "Audrey look…I'm sorry but no. We have enough people going already," he explains and when I try to interrupt him, he cuts me off. "Besides…you're too young. I can't, in good conscious, send a kid into that city. If you…I don't want to be responsible if you get hurt."

If I didn't see the honest concern in his eyes, I'd be pissed again, that ember in me slowly gaining fuel and fire. But I can see, now that I'm a little calmer, that Shane actually believes what he is saying. That he is, truly, worried about me because I'm too young or weak or whatever. Well, I just need to convince him otherwise. And preferably without yelling. That didn't seem to get me very far last time. Maybe calm logic will work better.

"Shane," I start and this time, I cut him off when he tries to interrupt. "I know you're worried but you're being a little biased about this. Glenn is only a few years older than me and he's gone into the city alone numerous times. And he doesn't even known how to shoot a gun that well!"

Glenn mutters some kind of half-hearted protest beside me but I ignore him and press on. "Look. I know you see me and think I'm just a stupid kid but I'm not. I survived well enough on my own for a month and, honestly, I've been fighting almost all my life." In more ways than one but he doesn't have to know that. "But I can't just sit on my ass and twiddle my thumbs and wait on people to save me and fix my problems. I have to help. You wouldn't let me go with Daryl and, though I don't agree with your decision, I understand. But I want to go with Glenn. The more people, the more protection."

"The more distraction," Shane interjects and I frown up at him.

"The more hands that can bring back supplies. You said it yourself. We are running drastically low. If I can bring a few more days worth a food in…that's worth a little risk," I say.

"I'm not willing to risk that," the former cop growls.

"But I am."

Shane blinks at the iron in my voice, the flint that must be in my eye. I sigh and rub my hand tiredly through my hair. "It's…it's my life," I say gently. "I don't want to die Shane. I'm not suicidal. But…I want to help everyone here. And I'm willing to risk a little to make sure that we don't starve. To make sure that Carl doesn't starve, that Sophia and Louis and Eliza don't."

It's the mention of the children, especially Carl, that makes the first hesitation appear on Shane's face. It's the chink in the armor that I needed and I go for it. "Please, Shane. Please…let me go."

I don't tell him that even if he says no, I'm going anyway. I don't tell him that I'm not about to let him make another one of my friends risk their lives without me. I don't tell him any of that. I let him think that this is his decision because…even if it's a little shallow, I know Shane is a man that needs to seem in control. I feel bad for doing this, being manipulative to even this small degree, but I'm not about to back down because I can still see the pointed edges of Sophia's shoulders and hear the hungry growls of Eliza's stomach.

It's a tense moment of silence that follows but I don't back down, I don't look away. I gaze right up into Shane's face, into the deep brown of his irises, close enough to see the splatter of nearly invisible freckles across the bridge of his nose. I will myself to seem strong and unafraid, even if the thought of walkers and Atlanta is making me shake on the inside, because Shane needs to think that I'm old enough, strong enough, to do this. I don't want to fight again with Shane. I want him to give his consent to make this that much easier.

Shane mulls my words over. I can see them tumbling in his head, see the gears turning. His jaw clicks and he grinds his teeth and his nostrils flare but then, suddenly, he sighs and the rigidity goes out of him. He scrubs a hand wearily through his hair and looks at me through his lashes again. He still doesn't look a hundred percent convinced but…he relents. Finally. Surprisingly.

"Fine," he sighs. "Fine. Ya can go with the group." I smile stupidly and I'm about to thank him but he isn't done yet. "But you will stick close to Morales and you will listen to what Glenn tells you. Don't go anywhere alone and don't do anything without being told. Understand?"

Shane sounds commanding again and demanding, like when he refused to let me go with Daryl, but I'm barely paying attention because I'm going. I'm going into the city and I'm going to help camp and I'm going to help Glenn. I won't let them down. I will not be useless.

And damn it, I will be worth the trouble.

And there it is :P Little shorter and, again, fillerish. I didnt really like it all that much but it's what my brain vomited so i hope it was adequate enough :P

Please review! :D I love reviews! And, i promise, next chapter starts the show off :)

Until next time guys!

~Shadows