So, in the middle of writing this chapter, I kind of read my review. Honestly, thank you for the review. Most of this chapter is for OldLonBird, though I am not sure how anyone was expecting it to play out...

~Loner

Andrea was scared. She had been since this all started. Even more so since her little sister, the apple of her eye, the star to her darkness, the light when she needed a nightlight, got bit. There was something about watching your love one come back from the dead, only to try and eat your face off, that really messed up your world view. Andrea wasn't going to lie; a part of her soul hoped it would skip over her sister as she waited for the outcome. When those beautiful eyes fluttered open, for a second Andrea's heart had fluttered in joy with them. Then, harsh reality set in, dashing her heart, killing a portion of her soul with it. Her precious little sister… was a Walker.

It was the hardest thing Andrea had ever done: putting a bullet in her the only living family member she had left. If one were to ask, she would say she had lost all will to live that day.

Andrea didn't know what kept her going anymore. Why did she fight? Stupid question, Andrea thought as she stared up at the RV's plastic roof. She fought because she didn't want to die in pain. She kept going, because she didn't want to wake up, just in case her soul got stuck in a vessel she had no control over, and watch as her body ripped apart person after person. She didn't know what happened to the original person when a walker was formed. For all she knew, they were still in there, watching in horror day after day.

In the CDC, she had a free painless pass. Andrea wanted to take it, grip it with both hands and leave this life. She really was, until Dale opened his stupid mouth. The old man was sitting beside her, lecturing her, like he really understood. What did he know? The man's family was long gone before the world fell out of axis. Still, this defeated the point of Andrea was trying to make.

Maybe, the blond thought as she finally relented and stood up from her place on the floor, living for others won't be so bad.

It was a lie. She felt so jipped.

The blond felt like she was watching from outside of her body as it went about doing what it needed to survive. Fear clouded her vision every day, every minute, every second. Every time Andrea saw a walker, her body went into fight or flight mode. She reacted in desperation, not wanting to imagine being one. Don't think, just do, she found herself thinking every time. Only to regret it in the end, because every single time she manages to kill a walker, her mind would flash back to putting that bullet in Amy's head and she would need a moment. She needed to grieve.

So, it came to no surprise that when two bodies emerged from the clearing, when it was her turn for watch duty, Andrea panicked. They moved in that same rocking motion, had that same dirty, dead look as a walker. She didn't think; she just did.

The gun shot was ringing out before she came back. Her heart was racing with anxiety as she lowered the gun. The people around her were shouting, buzzing in her ears, but she caught the words 'Arron and Daryl.' Her heart sank even lower, even as she started a mad rush to climb down from the RV. We're they alive? Did she just kill someone without meaning to?

Andrea waited on the edge of the group, waiting for someone to confirm her deepest fear. Was Andrea a cold blooded murder now?

"Their alive," Dale was announcing after a few moments of looking the two bodies over. Andrea, for her part, was flooded with relief. Oh, thank god!

"Here," Rick was saying as he reached down to pick one of them up, "help me get them to Herchel."

"Why is he wearing ears around his neck?" T-dog was asking, breaking the tentative silence that came with the group dragging the two men back to the house.

Andrea needed to apologize. She didn't want to, but the weight of her guilt demanded it. Honestly, Andrea just wanted to crawl into a hole and cover it up with her in it. What was this world turning her into? Shooting people wasn't her. She wasn't a killer.

Andrea hesitated at the door. Just on the other side was the man she had every intention of killing just a few hours before. Funny, how life liked to screw with you.

The blond knocked, slowly on the door in front of her, then waited.

There was rustling sounds, a bit of banging, almost like someone was rushing to get the door, then the door was opening to an irritated Arron. "What?" the man was snapping before he even looked up from where he was rubbing his upper thigh. She noticed his clothes were wrinkled, practically falling off without seeming too suspicious, almost like he was in the process of taking them off or putting them on.

"Um." Andrea's mind kind of blanked out for a moment. "Uh…" She could feel the sweat forming on her neck; she was so nervous.

"Oh," Arron looked at her in disdain, "it's you." Then, the man was reluctantly moving, holding the door wider for her. "Well, come on," he was saying when the blond just stood there staring.

Andrea just blinked a few times. A few long seconds later, she was thinking, aw, hell, as she moved forward into the room, too late to turn back. "I, uh…" she tried to start, only to lose her words as she listened to the door click closed, cutting off her escape route. "I just, uh…"

"Well, out with it," Arron snapped, already moving to Daryl's bed side. The scared man sat gracefully, for a man his size, next to Daryl.

Arron was a little closer to Daryl then socially acceptable, Andrea noticed absently. Where they together, together, she asked herself again, as she always did when she saw them being a little more affectionate than normal family. She supposed, with the world like it was now, anything could happen. Love was love (or was it lust?) when there was no one to give it. She was kind of jealous really.

"Andrea?" Daryl was quietly asking, breaking the blond from her thoughts.

Andrea sighed. "Sorry." There she said it. "for trying to shoot you, I mean," she added, just to clarify.

"Yeah," Arron frowned, unconsciously reaching over to place a hand on Daryl's knee, "that was a bitch ass move." The bullet had ended up grazing Daryl's ear, taking a small chunk from it. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Andrea had the decency to blush in shame. Silently, she geared herself up to with stand the coming lecture that she was sure would be soul cutting.

"You don't just get to waste resources like that," Arron was saying, lifting his hands as he scolded the blond. He dutifully ignored Daryl's annoyed sigh as Arron started in on his, admittedly common, lecture. "That bullet could have saved your life one day. Do you even know," Arron was stressing the word, waving his hands in the air, talking with his hands in his exasperation, "what you can do with a bullet? No. You probably don't, because if you did you would have kept the fucker with you at all times. Seriously- oof."

Daryl was cutting off the rant with a back hand to Arron's chest before the man could go into all the scenarios a bullet could be useful in (half of them made up and untested). "I think she gets it," Daryl hissed, turning to look at Andrea's shocked face. Daryl wouldn't admit it but he found it kind of hilarious. Everyone reacted the same way to Arron's speeches. Honestly, the man only cared about conserving and storing. Arron had even admitted he was… what was the word the scared man had used, again? Ah yes, gatherer. Arron was a gatherer. He gathered resources that looked or seemed useful. Sometimes, they were. Sometimes, they weren't. However, there was very few times Arron couldn't eventually make something that wasn't useful into something that was, though. It was just a quality the man had. Without it, though, Merle probably would have ditched Arron's ass a long time ago, Daryl thought to himself (It was really amazing how Arron "just found" the very thing they needed).

"Uh…" Andrea shifted, uncomfortably. She felt like they were making a joke out of her. What could she say? What could she do? This is awkward, she thought, shifting her weight again. Was it too rude to just walk out and forget this even happened? "Sorry?" she questioned. Was she supposed to be apologizing now?

What the hell? The blond was getting frustrated. They were supposed to be yelling at her, calling her a 'wanna be murder' or something, not making a joke out of the situation. This wasn't normal! They weren't normal! "You know what," Andrea turned on her heel to stalk out of the room, "never mind. Clearly, you two are freaks of nature."

Daryl waited until Andrea opened the door before calling out, "Oh, and Andrea." The woman paused but didn't look back. "Next time you decide to shoot someone, don't miss."

Andrea sighed as she walked out of the room, ignoring Arron's "Oh, yeah. CONGRATULATIONS BY THE WAY!" statement as the door closed behind her. She didn't even want to know what that meant.

Glen was being twitch. Arron noticed it around lunch time as he handed the group their half of the hunt. Glen was always twitchy but not the guilty 'I got to tell someone' twitchy he was now. Arron watched the kid throughout the day. Glen was arguing with Maggie, giving Arron a small hint that it was something to do with the Greene's Group business. Arron didn't know what the Greenes did with their spare time, but whatever it was had the Asian wound up like a metal ball of spikes.

By night fall, the Korean's twitch was almost full body twitching. The kid looked ready to run for it.

Arron gave it 24 hours. If the kid managed to hold it in until then, Arron would approach the Asian. Arron's curiosity would let him wait longer than that.

"So," Arron started as he threw himself down on the bench across from Glen, "do you think Zombie's make friends?" he asked absently, just for something to start with.

Glen jumped so high Arron struggled not to laugh. "What?" Glen asked in a strangled voice.

"Okay," Arron droned on trying to be casual, like he didn't hear the near panic in Glen's voice, "maybe, 'friend' is the wrong word." Arron pretend to be thinking, fingers rubbing at his chin absently. "Do you think Zombies have a hive like mind? Like, do they communicate with each other over long distances?" Arron continued on as if he didn't see Glen losing more of his color with every word. "'cause, I mean, think about it. I once witnessed one horde converge with a smaller one back before you guys joined us up on the cliff side. There was no way that was just by chance! What were the chances of a horde of Zombies just passing through? In a forest of all things! At the beginning! Now, granted the hordes then weren't nearly as-"

"There's walkers in the barn!" Glenn interrupted suddenly. Intently, the kids hand flew up to cover his mouth, horrified by his words.

Arron's head whipped around to stare at the barn on the other side of the property. "Well, shit."

"Yeah," Glen faintly breathed. It was a relief to get it off his chest finally.

"Hey, kid." Arron greeted mutely, leaping over the log to sit next to the man.

Daryl paused in his nightly maintenance of his precious crossbow, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He knew that tone. "Wha' happen?"

Arron didn't look at him, just stared into their fire for a long minute.

"Pa?" Daryl asked lightly pushing the man's shoulder.

Arron blinked turning to look into concerned eyes. "There's flesh eaters in the barn." Arron flinched. He didn't mean for it to come out so casual like it did.

"What?" Daryl shouted in shock, catching the attention of the main group.

"Shhhh," Arron hushed, covering Daryl's mouth quickly. He shot an awkward glance at the others. "I promised not to tell!"