Chapter Twelve

"I got death my pocket and nothing but time

All these bones in the closet, in the back of my mind

I just leave them there, I don't even care, no

Holding up a flare, I could use a prayer, oh

I got death in my pocket, but I feel so alive"

Death in My Pocket by MGK

I've always known that there are things worse than death. I've known that to be true since I was a child. Things can happen that alter your perspective for the rest of your life. Or lives, in my case. It creates a hole in your chest, makes you feel like you're a prisoner in your own body, and leaves behind a deep seated resentment towards the world.

My fear, as I sat huddled in the dark, humid room the Claimers had locked me in, was that I was soon going to experience something I wouldn't be able to bounce back from. I knew what the Claimers did to people. I wasn't under any impression that I was going to be the exception to the rule. While this had been a TV show, I was very much living in the terrifying reality of it now and the only thing that had saved me so far was that Joe had claimed me for himself, promising loudly to his "colleagues" that they would be "taught a lesson" if they touched me.

My fingers clenched so hard around the small metal pipe in my hand that I was sure my knuckles were white. I had pried it from the wall, nearly ripping my fingernails off in the process. My eyes stayed locked in the direction of the door that I knew was directly across from me. It was the only entrance in and out of the windowless room that was situated in the back of the abandoned garage the Claimers had holed up in. It was so dark that I couldn't see it, but I had felt my way around the space multiple times already and had memorized every inch of square footage.

I had searched the room thoroughly when the chubby, balding man had pushed me through the door. There was no furniture and nothing lying around that would be in any way helpful to me. I had gotten fairly lucky with the Governor, but it seems like that luck had run out.

"You're so fuckin' brave, Broadway, even if you don't realize it."

Tears sprang to my eyes when I heard Daryl's voice in my head. I didn't feel very brave right now. I was terrified. I felt like I couldn't breathe right and I just wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

I had tried so hard to get Joe off of me. I had fought and fought with every bit of energy I had left in my body. Daryl's name had fallen out of my mouth on a scream repeatedly, as more men jumped to the pavement and helped Joe drag me up into the truck. Daryl hadn't made it in time, though. I didn't even know if he'd heard me. I was on my own and I wasn't sure how I was supposed to get out of this when there were six men standing between me and freedom.

I took a deep breath and wiped away the few tears that had trailed down my cheeks. I needed to come up with something. Anything to give me a fighting chance.

As I tried to compile a mental list of everything I knew about the Claimers, I heard loud footsteps and even louder laughter. I stood from where I had sat on the floor and pressed myself to the concrete wall as I slid the small piece of pipe behind my back. I felt like I was holding my breath as I listened to the steps get closer.

When the door handle rattled, my fingers flexed. I forced myself to turn my fear into something stronger because I wasn't going to be a victim again. I would die fighting before I let any of them put their hands on me.

The door swung open with a bang and my heart felt like it was about to beat straight out of my chest. Joe and two of the others stood in the doorway, but my eyes had focused on the body they were supporting between the two of them. I couldn't see who it was, but they threw the person into the room and I watched as their limbs flailed, trying to right themselves but ultimately landing on their hands and knees.

My eyes darted back to the men who were, again, laughing, and then back to the small figure that was scrambling to their feet.

As the light from the opened door illuminated the furious, bloody face, I realized who I was looking at.

Rosita? What the fuck?

"Just dropping off your roommate, sweetness," Joe chuckled, his head turned towards me, "We'll be back for you two later."

Then the door slammed and it suddenly got easier to pull air into my lungs. I didn't stop to process that I was now in captivity with Rosita. I needed to figure out what was happening. The moment I heard the lock click, I was moving across the dark room and pressing my ear to the door. Rosita, it seemed, had the same idea because her shoulder was quickly brushing against mine as she held her head in the same position.

"No one goes in there while I'm gone. And no one touches them until I get back, you hear?" I heard Joe ask, his voice hard.

Muffled mumbles of understanding sounded.

"Not even the Mexican gal?" One of them asked.

"Especially not her. She knows more than she's saying. And I want to be here to collect the restitution that's owed for Len and Harley. It's going to be a good night, boys," Joe said with a low laugh, "Lou and Billy stay here. Dan and Tony with me."

And then their footsteps were fading away and I was stepping back from the door.

There were only five of them left, is what it sounded like. Three of them were leaving for reasons I'd yet to discover, which just meant I had to figure out a way to get the remaining two to open that fucking door.

"Are you the reason they stopped on the road back there?" Rosita's voice asked as I heard her start to walk around the perimeter, presumably doing the same thing I had already done well over two dozen times. "I thought I heard a woman screaming."

"Were you in the truck?" I asked, bewildered.

"Motherfuckers had me tied up in the back," she cursed, "Worked out in my favor, though. Was able to kick one of them out of the back. Busted his dome on the pavement."

"Do you know where they're going? Why didn't they bring you in with me earlier?"

"Trying to go hunt down the rest of my group. They've been trying to get nonexistent information out of me for the last hour. All that got them was a second dead 'colleague' ." I could hear the smile in her voice as she talked.

"So there's five left?"

Rosita mumbled an affirmative and I started pacing in front of the door while I tried to pull together the information I had and formulate some semblance of a plan. Rosita being here had to work in my favor somehow. The woman was a force of nature and four hands were always better than two anyway.

I had a laundry list of questions for her, including how they managed to get Rosita and the truck without Abraham or Eugene being caught up in the shit, but I pushed all of that aside for later. My curiosity would have to take a backseat until I could get out of here.

"I've already searched the room. I have a small pipe that I pulled off the wall, but that's it. There's nothing else in here. Are your people going to come looking for you?" I asked her.

I could only barely see her shadow darting across the room in the minimal light that was slipping in under the door.

"I don't know," she mumbled.

Surely Abraham wouldn't leave Rosita to fend for herself… right? But if he was still dead set on getting Eugene to DC for "the cure", then it was a possibility. Fuck.

"Mine will," I said confidently. "But we have to figure out a way out of this now . They will kill us when Joe gets back and… other things. There's no other exits in this room. We need to get one of them to open the door. We can take them together after that. You killed two already. The men left here can't actually fight. They rely on numbers and weapons. If we're still in this room when the rest get back, we're fucked."

"And why should I trust you to help me get the fuck out of here?" Rosita bit out, "I don't even know you. You could be working with them for all I know."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you see anyone else in here that could possibly help you? Did it sound like I was working with them when they dragged me into this room, kicking and screaming? Or when they pulled me into that truck while I was yelling for my friend? Be serious."

Rosita was quiet for a moment before speaking in a much nicer tone. "They fucked me up pretty bad out there. Start yelling. Tell them I'm turning."

That could actually work.

"I'll scream. You'll hide behind the door. The moment they step through, I'll get one of them with my pipe. It's not a lot, but it's enough to cause some damage until we can get our hands on a gun or something," I said, placing my hands on my hips while I stared into the darkness.

"This might be the only chance that we get," Rosita said quietly, "We need to make sure we don't waste it."

I nodded my head, even though she couldn't see me.

"I'm Scarlett, by the way. If we're about to die together, you should at least know my name," I offered, feeling a tightness in my throat as emotions that I didn't even want to think about bubbled up inside me.

"Rosita. But we're not going to fucking die in here, Scarlett. I've come too far to be killed by those pendejos. "

"Same," I agreed, trying to shake the feeling of dread that had yet to vacate my body, "Let's give it just a few minutes. Make sure Joe and the other two members of the funky bunch are gone before we do this."

I slid down the door, sitting cross legged on the floor, and leaned my head back, pulling in a few deep breaths. I had to keep myself calm and remember everything I was trying to get back to. Every one I was trying to get back to.

I heard Rosita make herself comfortable on the floor across from me.

We sat in silence for a while, which I was thankful for. I couldn't even find it in me to be happy that I'd found at least one of the trio. I had a confusing mix of anger, sadness, and pure terror swirling around inside me, making it impossible to feel anything else.

"I had a bad feeling about today. I should've stayed in bed," I sighed a couple minutes later, bringing a hand up to rub at my eyes.

"Me, too. Got told I was being dramatic about it," Rosita said.

I almost smiled. I could hear her roll her eyes.

Silence hung heavy in the air again.

"They were going to fucking rape us," Rosita bit out, her tone suddenly cold, "And then kill us."

I swallowed. "I know. That's kind of their MO, from what I've gathered."

"They were talking about it when they had me out there, like I couldn't hear them. Saying everything they were going to do to us, in graphic detail. I'd die before I let them touch me."

A sad smile that Rosita couldn't see tugged up my lips. "I was thinking the same thing before they threw you in here with me."

"We should wait for the others to get back when we get out of here. They shouldn't be allowed to stay alive. They'll just do this to someone else."

I opened my mouth to say that I just wanted to get back to my people, but I stopped. She was right. They would do this to others. Other women or children or men would be in the same position that we were currently in. How could I live with myself if I knew that these sadistic fucks were possibly out there in the world, looking for their next victim? They had all died in the show and that was how it was supposed to be. They didn't deserve to live and sure didn't deserve the opportunity to hurt someone else.

"You're right," I whispered.

I knew that sticking around was basically asking for trouble. It was inviting all of the terrible shit that I was trying to avoid to happen, but my conscience would never allow me to be happy if I let them live. Which made me think about Terminus. How was I so willing to take out the Claimers, but let the psychopaths at Terminus continue to eat people?

Well, fuck.

I made a vow to myself right there. Regardless of what happened, if I made it out of here alive, I was going to Terminus. I would get Jax and the rest of the group to Alexandria, but I was going to go to Terminus eventually and make sure they got what they deserved, even if that meant I might possibly become someone's dinner.

"We'll figure out the rest of them after we get these two down. We just need to focus on one thing at a time for now," Rosita whispered, though her voice was still as hard as steel.

I nodded my head again, forgetting she couldn't see me. I heard her move and let out a low hiss.

"How bad did they hurt you?" I asked, "I'll take a look when we get out. I'm a doctor."

"I've had worse. Just fucked up my face and maybe a rib."

The roar of a departing truck rumbled through the space, stopping the conversation, and I drew in a shaky breath. I listened until we could no longer hear the powerful engine.

"Sounds like it's show time," I whispered.

"You think you can make this believable?" She asked.

"Absolutely," I responded, pushing myself to my feet.

Like someone had pressed their finger on a Play button in my brain, a rapid fire of scenes played behind my eyes like a movie reel.

"I'm just scared that something is going to happen and we won't be safe anymore and I won't have you."

"It's alright, angel. Let it out."

"And because the second I met you, it felt like I'd been waiting my whole goddamn life for that moment. That's why you scare me."

"We're lucky to have you."

"Bye, love you!"

"Take me! Leave her alone and just take me."

"Sounds like, eventually, he did give you those wings, didn't he, Broadway?"

That was apparently all I needed to give me the courage to get through this, because I felt every emotion drain out of me until I was left with a calming numbness that felt bone deep. I wasn't scared or even mad anymore. I was just ready.

"You good?" I asked.

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

I faced the door and what happened just seconds later felt almost like another out of body experience. Like I was watching from the other side of the room.

A scream tore from my throat that sounded like it was nothing but pure, unadulterated terror and moments later I was banging on the door frantically. I should have been an actress in horror movies.

"Help! Fucking help me! She's turning!" I let out a loud sob, "Please don't leave me in here! Oh God, help me!"

I kept it up, screeching and banging on the door until I heard the frantic shuffle of feet outside.

"What the hell's going on in there?" I heard one of them yell.

"You killed her! She's fucking turning! Get me out of here!" I screamed, adding in a dramatic cry for good measure.

And the Oscar goes to… Scarlett St. James!

"Oh, fuck. Joe's gonna kill us," I heard one of them murmur as the door handle clanged.

Then Rosita let out a loud groan that actually did sound like one of the dead. Maybe she deserved an Oscar, too. I fought to keep myself from laughing at the panicked exclamation that came from one of the men trying to unlock the door.

I stepped to the side, pressing my back to the wall just to the left of the door, only moments before it flew open and clashed loudly against the other wall. The men entered the room quickly, not even looking in my direction as they scanned the space for Rosita, who had hidden in the darkest corner of the room.

I was moving before they could realize what was happening. I didn't let any part of me think about the heinous act I was about to commit as I brought that small piece of pipe up and swung as hard as I could.

It connected with a loud thud against the head of the tall, skinny man closest to me and a garbled cry fell from his mouth, but I was already swinging again. I heard Rosita move and a surprised yelp sounded from the other man as I made contact again with the one in front of me. His knees buckled and he stumbled, which I took as an invitation to bring my left leg up and land a kick to his spine.

He fell to the ground, flopping hard on his stomach. I wasted no time as I vaulted myself onto his back, my knees slamming into the concrete on either side of hips, and repeatedly pounding that small pipe into the back of his skull. Eventually I heard the sound of a sickening crack and felt the gush of blood on my hand, but it was like I had completely detached from the situation and I just kept swinging on him.

"Scarlett. Scarlett, hey. He's dead, babe. He's dead. Come on," Rosita's soft voice filtered through the haze as I felt a light touch on my shoulder.

My head snapped and my eyes connected with hers as I pulled breath after breath harshly into my lungs. She had blood covering the front of her tank top and had a tight grip on a large hunting knife. My gaze fell to the body that I was currently straddling.

I expected to feel something. Horror, maybe, at what I was looking at. Sadness that I just taken another life. A cold emptiness still filled me, though, as I took in the mush that had once been a human head. Blood, brain matter, and small bits of skull were splattered across the area and I could feel the sticky blood covering my hands and forearms.

I pushed myself up and swallowed. Only one thought raced through my mind as I looked over at the other man, who was leaking blood from a deep slice across his throat.

They deserved this.

"Let's get out of here. He's going to turn soon and he doesn't get to be put down," Rosita said, bending over to grab a dropped rifle from the floor.

I did the same, snatching a large knife and a small handgun from the belt of the man I had killed. I immediately realized the gun was mine as I walked out of the room, not sparing a backwards glance as Rosita pulled the door shut behind her.

"They put the supplies they took from us over in that corner, if you're thirsty," she said, before her eyes raked over me slowly, "I would suggest maybe cleaning yourself up a little. Respectfully."

I didn't even want to look down at myself. I knew it was going to be a gruesome sight.

Three hours passed and I watched as the sunlight slowly disappeared the small windows that lined the ceiling. In that time, I had checked over Rosita's wounds, cleaned myself up, and she and I had come up with a plan. It was nothing fancy, but it would get the job done and keep us as far away from the remaining Claimers as possible. It all seemed very anticlimactic once we figured out what we were doing. Like it was going to be too easy.

I knew I only felt that way because I was so used to watching the show, where everything that happened had been a big production. Explosions, crazy wars, off the wall surprises. When things went smooth, it just kind of felt like the universe was waiting for the right time to throw some big "gotcha!" at me.

The large garage had one huge sliding door that I knew Joe would be driving the truck through and an open area that was obviously a work space for when the business had been up and running. Half worked on cars littered the space every so often, near large toolboxes. There was a cat walk that surrounded the upper level and a few offices were situated off of it. Rosita and I grabbed some water and food and made use of one of the empty offices while we waited, listening attentively for the sound of the Claimers returning.

I felt almost guilty as we sat in the dirty room, eating granola bars and drinking water. Like I should be fighting to get back to Jax and the rest of the group, but I held firm in the belief that the remaining members of this group didn't deserve to live.

Daryl, Merle, and Jax were probably already losing it as a unit. I couldn't imagine the rest of them were too dead set on trying to find me, but that was okay. While I did have a good relationship with the group, I knew they needed to worry about getting everyone else to safety. It still made me feel a little warm and fuzzy that at least a few people were worried about me.

Rosita kept my mind occupied while we sat on the floor in the office. She told me about Abraham and Eugene. I acted surprised about Eugene's claim to know the cure even though the larger part of me wanted to roll my eyes and tell her the man, while useful, was a fraud. She peppered me with questions about the group at the house and made me laugh more times than I could count.

For some reason, I had never liked Rosita much on the show. I'd always thought she was gorgeous, but sometimes she did shit that grated on my nerves in the worst possible way. Now that I was in front of her, reduced into hysterical giggles at her impression of Eugene calling his mullet a 'Tennessee Top Hat', I knew that I had been an idiot. She was easily one of my favorite people that I'd gotten to meet so far. That also just might be because she had helped get me out of a locked room and hadn't judged me for going full Texas Chainsaw Massacre on that Claimer.

"What did you do before all of this?" I asked her, when my laughter had finally subsided.

"I had been a Combat Engineer in the Army, believe it or not. I had enlisted when I was eighteen, serving for eight years. Had been done for a little over a year when all of this happened," she responded, leaning back against the desk behind her.

"Wow. That's kind of badass. You know that, right?" I asked, thoroughly impressed.

I remembered the episode where she had dismantled the explosives the Saviors had set up along the highway, so that actually made sense.

She let out a laugh. "You were a surgeon. You dug around in people's bodies for a living, and you think I'm a badass?"

"Have you met you? You took out two of those fuckers while I was just hanging out with a tiny pipe in a dark room," I shook my head and smiled.

"You didn't exactly have the chance to defend yourself, though. I was just presented with a better opportunity. Also, how do you feel about staying here until daybreak?" Rosita asked as she tossed me a can of fruit cocktail.

I sighed. "Not great, but it would make sense. I don't want to be traipsing around out in the dark, either."

She nodded her head. "We'll take the truck and head out when the sun starts to rise. I'll take you to your group and then I'll go find mine."

"You can stay with us, you know? I feel like you and I are permanently connected after this. Those who plot the slaying of enemies together, stay together, or something, right?" I said, sending her a small smile.

She tilted her head back and laughed. "Something like that. I have to find them, though. Eugene is… well, he's useless, actually, but Abraham shouldn't be responsible for him on his own."

"What if we help you find them? You said earlier you guys were heading to DC, right? That's where we're headed. We could gather the Brain and the Braun and head there together. Might be more helpful than you all traveling on your own?"

I wanted to just tell her. Go Terminator 2 . 'Come with me if you want to live' . But that sounded psychotic.

"Having more people help us get Eugene to the capital would be great. And having an actual doctor -" Her words were cut off by the sound of an engine creeping towards us.

"Fuck," Rosita said, jumping to her feet and grabbing the rifle on the floor next to her. I quickly followed suit. "What was it you said earlier? Show time?"

I pushed the anxiety down and willed that numbness from earlier to return as I smiled at the woman.

"Don't get yourself shot. Or worse, caught by one of them," I breathed, shaking out the tension in my shoulders.

"You do the same," she whispered.

With one last nod at each other, we were off, taking up the partially hidden places we had scouted out earlier on either end of the catwalk above the large sliding door.

I crouched in the darkness, my gun held steady in my hands. I had a clear shot from where the truck would park and Joe would jump out of the driver seat. Rosita was going to get whoever got out of the passenger side and the remaining Claimer would be the responsibility of who he was closest to.

I couldn't remember how good Rosita's aim was in the show, but from the way she was holding that rifle like she was used to it and her history in the military, I assumed it was good enough to make the shot she needed to.

Faint voices floated in from outside and I could tell from the sound of the engine they were right outside the large sliding garage door. I listened intently as the piercing groan of metal sliding against metal cut through air.

My heart rate kicked up only slightly, but my eyes stayed focused.

Kill them. Take a nap. Get back to your people. Easy peasy.

I repeated my mental to-do list a few times as I watched the truck roll in slowly and the engine cut off.

"Hurry up! I want to get on with the rest of the night!" The man, Tony, I thought, called, as he started sliding the door closed.

I heard laughter from the truck that made my stomach turn.

"Keep your dick in your pants!" Joe hollered.

My gaze stayed locked on the driver door and, in what felt like slow motion, it popped open. I raised my gun as the man slid to the concrete floor below him. A loud shot rang out from the other side of the room and I watched Joe's eyes widen for a fraction of a second before I was pulling the trigger on my own gun.

The bullet didn't hit him in the head, like I had intended, instead piercing him in the right side of his throat, causing blood to gush from the wound in thick streams. A sick sort of satisfaction flooded my chest as I watched him grasp at his throat. I hoped it fucking hurt.

I didn't let myself wallow in that twisted pride, though, because Tony had let out a loud exclamation of surprise. As I turned my gun on him, another shot rang out and I felt a stinging sensation on the top of my left shoulder, but I was too focused on what was happening in front of me to pay it any attention. Another bang sounded from Rosita's side of the garage and Tony's body crumpled. My eyes shot to the woman, who was watching the now dead man with her rifle still raised and a gleam in her eye.

Silence settled over the large area as we took in the site before us. The thought that it was just as anticlimactic as I had believed it would be crossed my brain, but I found myself happy about that as opposed to the alternative.

Rosita's eyes met mine and a wide grin stretched across her face. I couldn't help but return the expression. I opened my mouth to call to her, but the sound of approaching cars had me drawing up my gun again.

Fuck fuck fuck. What fresh hell is this? If those creeps from Grady Memorial waltz in here and try to kidnap me for the third fucking time, I'm going to lose my shit.

I took off down the catwalk towards Rosita as the tires got closer. I tried to keep my footsteps light as I jogged across the metal flooring. I couldn't believe my awful luck. I wanted to save the people from the prison, sure, but I didn't want to take their place in every major shitty event that was supposed to occur from here on out.

"There's at least two cars out there," she whispered as I came up to her, "I didn't think they had any more people with them."

"They don't. Not from what I put together. It has to be someone else," I responded, locking my hand around her arm and pulling her into the dark corner that still provided us a clear view of the floor below.

"How many bullets do you have left?" she asked. For the first time, I could hear a twinge of fear in her voice.

"At least ten, I think. Give or take a couple."

She nodded her head frantically, raising the rifle in front of her. "We do this together."

"Together," I agreed, raising my handgun to point at the sliding door that was still partially opened.

I held my breath as I stood shoulder to shoulder with the woman.

I strained my ears to hear what was happening outside. The approaching vehicles stopped so hard I heard the tires squeal against the pavement. Every possibility of who it could be flashed through my mind and I felt myself actually panicking now.

I knew what to expect with the Claimers. If this was some super, extended version of the group, I was going to be pissed. We had lost the element of surprise and were bound to get killed. But what if it wasn't? Maybe it was Grady Memorial. Or maybe Terminus had gotten some kind of mobile food truck to pick up victims in.

Suddenly the door was pushed open with a force that had me wincing at the high pitched screech that sounded from the unoiled tracks. I took a deep breath as the pounding of multiple footsteps ran into the space.

I straightened my spine, preparing myself. As my eyes caught sight of nine bodies entering the garage, I felt the air rush out of my lungs when they all stopped immediately, taking in the scene before them.

"What shitstorm did we just walk into?" A voice I recognized, but hadn't heard in person, demanded.

I heard a ragged gasp escape Rosita's mouth as her gun dropped a few inches.

"Think we just walked into a graveyard," a voice I knew all too well responded.

And though I could only see the back of his head, I could hear the smile in his voice and the pride that colored his words.

"They were maybe ninety seconds ahead of us. What the fuck happened?" A feminine voice asked.

I sprinted towards the stairs in a fit of excitement, not realizing how stupid that was, considering there was a group of people fully armed standing below that didn't know it was me, but Rosita was hot on my heels, so I didn't feel quite as dumb. I needed to get to them, had to know that I wasn't imagining this.

I vaulted down the last few steps and took off across the concrete floor, jumping over the body of the balding creep Rosita had shot and rounded the truck, skidding to a halt in front of my people. Who must have realized at some point who was running towards them, because relieved smiles had pulled up most of their mouths and no one was pointing a gun at me.

I didn't have time to take in each and every one of them, because I caught movement at the corner of my eye briefly before strong arms wrapped around my waist, crushing me into the tightest hug I had ever remembered receiving. The scent of trees, leather, sweat, and cigarettes filled my nose and I immediately felt tears spring to my eyes as I wrapped my arms around Daryl's neck.

In that moment, everything else faded. His face buried into the side of my neck and I could feel him shaking beneath my hands as he breathed me in.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl. I tried really hard to fight them off, I promise. I -" I sobbed.

"S'my fault, Broadway. S'all my fault. I shouldn't have left ya," he mumbled, his voice deep with emotion.

I wasn't sure how long we stood there as he let me cry into his shoulder, but it felt like the second he had touched me, everything inside me fell apart. Every wall I had tried so hard to build while being here crumbled at his feet.

Eventually, he shuffled backwards slightly, keeping his hands on my waist and dropping his forehead onto my right shoulder. I pulled in a couple deep breaths before opening my now slightly puffy eyes.

Bright blue orbs immediately locked onto mine over Daryl's shoulder. A small smile tugged at my lips as Merle grinned at me and sent me a wink.

The moment Daryl took a full step back, Merle swooped in around him and crushed me into a hug of his own.

"No idea how glad I am to see ya, angel," he said quietly.

"Probably about as happy as I am to see you ," I responded, giving him a tight squeeze.

I felt Daryl's eyes on me as Merle pulled away. I glanced over at him in time to see those blue eyes narrow as he took a step forward

"What's this?" He asked, his finger waving around near my left shoulder.

I looked to where he was pointing and I was a little shocked to notice fresh blood and a small tear in the fabric that sat there. I pushed my shirt over a little, realizing that the bullet Tony had sent my way had, thankfully, only grazed the top of my shoulder. Adrenaline must have kept me from realizing what had happened.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a little scratch," I said with a fake smile.

Now that I knew it was there, it stung like a bitch, but I wasn't going to say that outloud. I was lucky it hadn't actually hit me.

Concern stayed present in his eyes as he stepped to my side.

I was finally able to take in the rest of the group. Rick, Michonne, Carol, Tyreese, Sasha, and Merle stood in a semicircle in front of me and I was ready to cry all over again.

"You guys came for me?" I asked, my voice cracking on the last word.

"Why wouldn't we?" Rick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We didn't show up here for fun, angel," Merle drawled with a big smile on his face, "Though it seems we were just a little late to the party. Doesn't look like ya needed us at all."

I wanted to blubber like a baby. I knew Daryl and Merle would find me at some point. They were my people . The fact that everyone else had come to save me too, though? That was making me want to sob.

"Thank you guys. Seriously. Thank you so much," I whispered, placing my hand on my heart.

The loud voice to the right of my group caught my attention and my eyes snapped to Rosita, who was standing in front of Abraham with a smile on her face. But what spiked my heart rate was the woman I saw standing beside Abraham, who was watching me with guilt coloring her features.

My mouth popped open.

Tara.

My eyes connected with Merle's again, who was watching me with a smile on his face. He knew and he looked pretty damn proud of himself at that moment.

"I'd love to stand around here and just chat, but considering our mission to save the doctor has thankfully turned into just providing a ride, I think we should head back. It's dark and it'll take us another hour and half to get back to the house," Rick said, looking around at all of us, before turning to Abraham, "You guys can follow us back for your man. You're more than welcome to stay. Everything else can be talked about after breakfast tomorrow."

Murmurs of agreement filtered through the space.

"Daryl, angel, and I are taking the little SUV. The rest of you can take the other two cars," Merle barked out, leaving no room for negotiation.

"We're taking our fuckin' truck back from these cocksuckers," Abraham grumbled angrily as he set off towards the large military truck, "And I'm takin' the rest of my shit back, too."

I heard a loud pop as Abraham fired a bullet into Joe's head as he passed the man that was still laying on the floor and continued on, like it was just another day at the office.

Rosita looked over at me. She held emotion in her eyes that I wasn't used to seeing on the show, but I understood it. We had just fought our way out of something together. Something that very easily could have been a lot worse than what it had turned out to be. We were connected now and nothing brings people together faster than thinking they're about to die.

"I'll see you there?" she asked as Abraham started throwing supplies from around the garage into the back of the truck with Tara's help.

I nodded my head, and before I could think about it too hard, I stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. A soft 'umph' left her mouth, but she returned the sentiment.

"Thank you," I whispered as I pulled away from her.

She squeezed my shoulder and headed across the space towards Abraham. I turned towards the group, who were waiting patiently behind me and we started walking towards the exit. I was met with various small pats on the back and Carol squeezing my wrist once as we walked, before letting go and heading towards one of the cars.

"Always forcing those surprise hugs on people," Rick said, bumping his shoulder against mine lightly as we walked.

I couldn't help but laugh. "You didn't seem to mind too much, Officer Friendly."

"You gotta stop hanging around Merle," he grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"Not a chance," Merle declared, wrapping his fingers around my forearm and steering me towards the black SUV Daryl was already standing next to.

"We got a whole lot to talk about, angel," Merle murmured in my ear.

"We really do," I agreed.

Once I had situated myself in the passenger seat and Daryl had started the car, I heard Merle's voice again.

"You seem awfully fine for someone that was just kidnapped for the second time and then went all scorched Earth on said kidnappers."

"I knew you guys would come for me," I said, shrugging my shoulders and leaning my head against the seat.

Exhaustion felt like it was weighing my body down now that I felt safe.

"Always will," Daryl said under his breath as he put the car in drive.