Wands and Walkers

by FireAndFangs

When Sirius falls through the Veil in OotP, Harry dives in after him. He finds his godfather in the United States, with no evidence of witches, wizards, and magic as they know it. Instead, they are greeted by one of the walking dead and a crossbow-wielding Muggle with a Sirius-sized temper. Watch them make both friends and enemies as they try to find their way home.

10. Bodies and Bubbles

Author's note: Aaaaand this one's even longer. *shrugs* I'm not specifically aiming to make them increasingly longer. I'm ending them where I think it fits to. And personally, I would rather get longer chapters than shorter ones when it's a story I'm reading, so that's how I see it.

Wanted to elaborate on some things based on feedback/questions I've gotten:

One person mentioned using wandless magic. I know it happened a little bit in the books, I think usually accidentally or out of deep desperation. I'm not touching it, though, unless it's a situation of uncontrolled underage magic (like Harry blowing up Marge). I played the Hogwarts Mystery app game and it was used excessively in that in a way that I feel deviated a lot from "true" Harry Potter lore. I think the wandless magic stuff just adds way more unnecessary complication as far as the "rules" of magic go, and it leaves little room for challenges for Harry and Sirius to face.

Someone else mentioned that they were pretty sure Rick and Lori were highschool sweethearts, whereas I made up a story for how they met. I haven't watched the early seasons in forever, so if that is true, I apologize. I'll check that out and go back and edit that if so. Please keep in mind that I'm trying to keep all the little details as correct as I can. I'm actually going back to edit a few small descriptive parts regarding the prison layout. I've been watching the season 4 episodes while I write in order to stay accurate, which I wasn't doing when I wrote the first few chapters a couple years ago.

Similarly, as far as the magic/spell possibilities go, I want Harry and Sirius to be able to use their magic to their advantage in the Walker world and explore the different ways they could handle things, but it's no fun if it's too easy for them. I'm approaching each situation trying to think of the possible magic options they could use, and sometimes I think of potentially viable spells that could be applied, but that would hinder the plot of the story. If it's a glaringly obvious "yes, they would absolutely do that and it would work" type of thing, I try to adjust the plot, but if not, then I make up a rule for why it won't work. For instance, I've decided Stupefy wouldn't work on Walkers because they don't have a sense of consciousness to render them unconscious, and it would make Harry and Sirius' encounters with them detrimentally easier. Ultimately, I care more about the story being good.

Uhhhh, okay, I think that's it. Enjoy!

---

Daryl moved away from Charlie's cell and stopped to lean on the rail of the second floor balcony, releasing a sigh as a heaviness crushed down upon him. And to think…he had thought they'd been lucky, everyone on the Big Spot run getting out of the collapsing, Walker infested building alive. No…blood still had to be shed. A reprieve one day meant a toll needed to be paid the next.

He should've known better.

He looked up as Harry exited the cell, shuffling slowly, his eyes vacant and skin pale, despite the tan he'd come to acquire. He was still wearing the white t-shirt and grey sweatpants he had slept in, which were now covered in blood, both articles of clothing mostly red now with only occasional splotches of their original colors. The kid looked like he was in shock.

Daryl knew Harry was no softie by any means. Sirius had told him stories about the horrors he'd faced so far, and some at an even younger age than Carl. He wondered, however, how violent and gory those situations had been since so many of them involved magic, and realized that Harry had probably never seen so much death and blood at once.

He moved in front of Harry and looked him closely up and down, patting along his arms and legs in a way very dissimilar to when he'd frisked him upon first meeting him. He looked up as he crouched and patted Harry's shins, trying to catch the boy's eyes.

"You sure you ain't bit or hurt?" Daryl asked.

Blinking slowly, Harry nodded.

Daryl stood upright, still looking him over, gesturing vaguely at him. "This is all Walker blood then? None of it's yours?"

Harry nodded again. "Patrick was the only one that got close enough to do anything to me, and I kept his teeth away until you got him."

The kid's voice came out in a dull monotone. Daryl frowned, thinking how few Walkers were left for him, Rick, and the others to kill by the time they'd arrived, realizing Harry had to have taken out a great amount on his own. He wasn't sure how many people had died exactly yet, but it wasn't as many as he'd expected between first being alerted to the threat and arriving there. Harry had to have been responsible for that reduced number.

Daryl nodded toward the stairwell. "C'mon."

Harry followed him down to the main floor, where Glenn approached them, looking somber as he fiddled with something in his hands. He held up a pair of glasses.

"Not sure whose these are," he said quietly. Daryl heard the underlying question hidden in his statement: Do they belong to someone alive, who I can return them to, or someone dead, who we can bury them with? Daryl looked down at them, about to reach a hand to take them, but Harry beat him to it, turning the glasses over in his own bloodstained hands.

"These are Patrick's," Harry muttered.

The three of them stood there silently for a moment, all feeling bad for the kind, innocent kid who had lost his life in such an unpleasant way. It always hit Daryl harder when it was someone young who died.

Daryl saw Sasha re-enter the cell block behind Harry, her eyes lighting up when she spotted him and her lips pursed, pissed as hell. She started storming over with her mouth open to probably chew Harry out for going off on his own and not listening to her, but Daryl caught her eye and waved a hand back and forth under his chin, shaking his head. Sasha stopped in her tracks, looked at Harry from behind, then looked back at Daryl in a way that said, "I'll leave him alone for now," before heading over to where Tyreese was comforting Karen.

When Daryl looked back at Harry, he was staring at Patrick's body, still holding his glasses. Then, he suddenly put his hand over his mouth and rushed over to a corner of the room to vomit.

---

At the sound of gunfire, Sirius had sprinted toward the prison, far behind Rick and Carl, who had been nearer the building. He vaguely registered the sound of Walker growls emerging from the woods somewhere behind him, but paid them no heed, laser focused on the only thing that mattered.

He had to get to Harry.

He could see Maggie pop up from the watch tower and heard her yell, "Cell blocks?"

Rick called back, "I don't know," as he reached her.

Sirius could see a large group running from the main cell block, but didn't spot Harry among them. From what he could hear them calling to Rick, it sounded like there were Walkers in Block D and that Block C was being guarded by Hershel so that no one left. Then Rick said something to Carl and joined the group, disappearing as they hurried into the building. Carl was going over to the guard tower.

With all due respect to Hershel, he was an elderly Muggle with one real leg, and if Sirius knew his godson like he thought he did, Harry was very unlikely to sit idly by if he knew others were in danger, especially if Sirius wasn't there to stop him.

Sirius tried to push his body faster, mentally kicking himself for not being there. The sound of Walker growls at a higher volume had him whipping his head around to see that about eight of them were tearing after him from the woods, probably having been attracted to the noise from the gunshots. Without turning his head all the way around, Sirius cast an Impediment charm over his shoulder, hoping it hit, but not caring enough to make sure, as he himself couldn't afford to slow down.

As he reached the gate, he saw Carl already starting to open it for him. He turned around to face the Walkers as he shuffled backward between the opening metal doors. Only two of the Walkers were moving slowly and were significantly farther behind than the other six, which were still running at full speed and closer to Sirius than he thought they would be, entering through the gate with him in the space between the gate and the fence. He jogged backward off to the side, where there was a set of large wooden pikes had been arranged in Xs as a deterrent for Walkers, hoping he could steer at least one or two of them into the pikes. He fired a Reductor curse at the nearest Walker. The spell hit and the Walker's head exploded, but Sirius felt his footing get lost beneath him as his heel hit the line of rope that hovered just above the ground, connecting the metal gate to the lever just inside the fence. He fell backward and felt the back of his head scrape a hard, sharp edge before hitting the ground.

The back of his head throbbed and his vision was blurred with black spots. He tried to blink them away, some of the spots disappearing but not all of them. He shook his head to clear it, but the movement only sent a stronger shockwave of pain through his skull and darkened his vision more. He sat up with his hands pressing against the ground along either side of him, blinking furiously to try to clear his vision, the world tilting around him. The five Walkers that were still at full speed were almost on him. He raised his wand and hurled another Reductor curse, but the effort sent a swooping sensation through his head that almost made him fall back over. He blinked through more black spots to see that he had hit one of the Walkers.

He looked over his shoulder quickly to see that Maggie was running from the guard tower to the sliding fence door, which Carl was hovering near, his hands positioned to open it.

Carl was just a kid. Maggie was pregnant.

Sirius was incredibly dizzy and his body felt like lead as he gasped, "Get back in the tower!" He wasn't sure if the pair of them didn't hear him or were ignoring him, but Maggie was almost over to the fence and Carl stayed where he was, now turning in place as his eyes darted around his surroundings, seeming to be searching for something. Sirius raised his wand with a snarl and whirled back around to face the Walkers, calling, "Stay back!" over his shoulder.

He hurled another Reductor curse but couldn't even tell if it landed or not as his vision darkened even more, the energy he'd used adding to his fatigue. By the way the black spots were coming together, he knew he was about to lose consciousness and tried to resist as much as possible as his vision faded and everything swayed. He could hear the Walkers growling close above him, but he couldn't see them. He made a weak attempt at lifting his wand from the ground, only for it to drop back to his side.

No…this can't be how it happens. Harry…

A gunshot rang out just as an arm looped around each one of his own and hefted him to his feet before swinging one of Sirius' arms around their shoulders. His head was heavy and drooping as he faded closer to unconsciousness. He was vaguely aware that his feet mostly dragged along the ground, so he focused acutely on putting weight on them to help propel himself and his savior forward.

Three more gunshots rang out very close to him, the noise jolting his brain somewhat so that his vision cleared a little more. He was moving through the fence door now and the Walker growls behind him had ceased immediately after the gunshots.

Once through the gates and them being shut, the person supporting Sirius gently lowered him to the ground to a sitting position, saying, "Here," and thrusting a water bottle into his hand. Sirius brought it up to his mouth, the simple act taking a lot of effort, and took a few large sips before lowering it and breathing hard. Sitting still there a moment, his vision slowly began to clear and the dizziness faded. Whoever had picked him up was crouched next to him with their hand on his back in support.

Maggie.

She watched him closely, her lips pulling into a relieved smile as Sirius finally managed to focus on her. "There you are," she said with a hint of a laugh.

As Sirius' thoughts became sharper, he looked around to see with his own eyes that the Walkers were dead and to find their killer. Carl was cautiously stepping toward him and Maggie, a rifle in his hand, eyes wide with concern.

Maggie had pulled him up and helped him back into the courtyard. Carl had covered her. All to help him.

He suddenly found himself furious.

"What were either of you thinking?" he snarled.

Both Maggie and Carl looked taken aback, Maggie standing up and Carl drawing back with his brow furrowed and mouth hanging open. Sirius began to push himself to his feet, Maggie taking his arm to help support him. He stumbled a bit with dizziness before she slung his arm back around her shoulder and he found his balance.

"You are a kid," Sirius pointed at Carl.

"And you have a—" He looked sideways at Maggie, who widened her eyes at him in frightened realization, silently pleading with Sirius. He was angry that she had risked herself and her unborn child for him, but he wasn't about to repay her by outing her. He exhaled with a huff. "…husband," he finished lamely.

Carl put his free hand on his hip and said, "She can't do things because she has a husband? What kind of bullshit is that?"

Maggie's mouth pressed into a thin line, eying him with gratitude before looking to Carl. "It's fine, Carl. He just means he knows Glenn would be devastated if something happened to me."

"Neither of you should have risked yourselves for me," Sirius hissed, starting to sway a little as more pain shot through his head and some spots returned to his vision. "Don't ever do it again."

Carl rolled his eyes. "Like Harry would ever forgive me if I let you get killed."

Then the reason he had been hurrying toward the prison and hit his head in the first place came rushing back to him, fear coursing through him once more and turning his insides cold.

"Where is Harry?"

---

Carl kept pace with his dad as they raced toward the prison. All he could think about was Judith and whether or not she was okay.

Oh, god, she had to be okay.

When they reached the building, Daryl, Glenn, Zach, Carol, Tyreese, and Sasha were running out to arm themselves. They quickly relayed that there were Walkers in D, there hadn't been a breach, that everyone in C was being contained there by Hershel, and that Judith was safe.

Even though adrenaline still coursed through him at the prospect of Walkers being in the prison for the first time since they'd originally cleaned it out several months ago, Carl sighed in relief knowing his little sister was fine.

His dad turned to him. "Get in the tower with Maggie. Don't argue!"

As much as Carl would like to have argued and come along to help, he nodded and obeyed. He was mature enough to understand that arguing would only be selfish and waste any time that his dad could be spending rectifying the situation. He turned to head over to the guard tower.

"Sirius!" Maggie exclaimed above Carl. He froze where he was and looked out toward the prison landscape, remembering that Sirius had been out there too, and he belatedly realized that Sirius hadn't reached them to join the others.

Sirius was sprinting toward the prison gates with a group of Walkers chasing him.

He immediately hurried over to the gates as Maggie started descending the ladder of the tower. Carl opened the main metal gate and Sirius backed between the doors, the Walkers right there with him. Sirius killed one of the Walkers, only to promptly trip backward over one of the pulley ropes, the back of his head grazing the edge of one of the wooden pikes positioned alongside the gate.

Carl glanced back to see Maggie reaching the bottom of the tower ladder. When he returned his attention to Sirius, the man was on the ground in a sitting position, his hands holding him up, though apparently just so. Realizing that Sirius was on the verge of passing out, Carl immediately started looking around for a gun, knowing there should at least be a rifle nearby. Sirius fired a spell and killed one the of the Walkers, then yelled at them to get back in the tower, which Carl ignored and Maggie did as well as she ran over. He called for Carl and Maggie to stay back as he shot another spell, this one missing. Carl found the rifle a little further down the fence and grabbed it, pushing away the reminder that he hadn't fired a gun in months and that he still technically wasn't supposed to. If his dad got angry about it, too bad. He would rather keep Harry's godfather alive and be scolded than let him die to keep Rick off his back.

As Carl hurried back with the rifle, Maggie opened the fence. Carl raised the gun, aimed at the Walker that was closest to Sirius, and fired. Maggie leaned down and began lifting Sirius up by his arms.

The first Walker went down as Maggie steadied Sirius against her, supporting his weight with his arm around her shoulder. Carl quickly put down the next three Walkers, exhaling in relief as Maggie helped Sirius past the fence without any other threats to worry about.

Maggie lowered Sirius to the ground to let him sit and gave him some water. Carl stood a few feet away, watching, holding the rifle in one hand. After a few minutes of sitting still, Sirius' eyes became clearer and more alert, his breathing slowing as he took in his surroundings. Carl moved closer, worried, hoping something else hadn't happened to Sirius that he hadn't seen.

Then, Sirius' eyes suddenly blazed as he looked from Carl to Maggie, his lips pulling back as he bared his teeth angrily. "What were either of you thinking?"

Excuse me?

Carl felt his mouth fall open as he took a step back, incredulous that Sirius had the nerve to be giving them shit when they had just saved his life. Sirius began trying to stand and Maggie helped him, supporting him in place. Carl could see his legs were wobbly, but Sirius still somehow managed to glare at him wildly.

He pointed at Carl, saying, "You are a kid."

Oh, give me a break. Carl was so fed up with hearing how he couldn't or shouldn't do things because he was a kid, and he never expected to hear that from Sirius of all people.

Then Sirius turned his head toward Maggie. "And you have a—" he paused briefly in some sort of hesitation. Maggie watched him nervously, her reaction getting Carl more pissed with Sirius. He finished with, "husband."

Carl couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought Sirius was cool, a good guy. He'd never gotten the impression that Sirius was sexist. Maggie was more capable of taking care of both herself and those around her than plenty of the men Carl had crossed. And how was Sirius falling for Michonne, one of the toughest, fiercest, strongest women Carl had ever met?

Frustrated that he didn't know if his dad was okay and that he couldn't be in the cell block with him, along with having someone getting pissed with him for the one way he was able to contribute, Carl found himself wanting a fight. "She can't do things because she has a husband? What kind of bullshit is that?"

Maggie brought her eyes from Sirius to Carl, looking at him placatingly. "It's fine, Carl. He just means he knows Glenn would be devastated if something happened to me."

That didn't satisfy Carl. Everyone here had loved ones. Why were Maggie and Glenn special?

"Neither of you should have risked yourselves for me," Sirius hissed, swaying a little. "Don't ever do it again."

What was this guy's problem? Carl was starting to think he and Maggie should have just let him get eaten, but he imagined the wrath Harry would have for him. Speaking of Harry, according to Sirius' apparent line of thought, Sirius shouldn't be risking his own life or letting himself get killed because he had Harry to leave behind.

The hypocrisy made Carl roll his eyes. He decided to try throwing the man's twisted logic back in his face. "Like Harry would ever forgive me if I let you get killed."

Sirius' visage then transitioned from outrage to fear, his eyes widening. "Where is Harry?"

Carl found himself letting Sirius' worry suddenly seep into him. He had been so concerned about Judith and his father that he hadn't given his best friend a real thought. He set his anger toward Sirius aside momentarily. "I'm pretty sure he was still sleeping when I came out here…so he should still be in our cell block, right?"

Sirius laughed humorlessly. "I thought you knew Harry by now, Carl." His mouth was turned upward in a weird grin, but his eyes were sad and fearful. "Any sign of danger for others and he's there, and no one can stop him."

Carl thought about this, his heartrate picking up. That did sound like Harry, but if C was blocked off, what else could he do? He wouldn't hurt Hershel, the one in charge of ensuring no one left the cell block.

Maggie seemed to share his thoughts. "That might be true," she said, "but Harry's a good kid. He's not going to hurt my dad to get out of there."

Sirius put his face in his hand, seeming suddenly weary. "You don't understand…we can…get people out of our way without hurting them."

Carl swallowed. "Well, even if Harry did get out of C, the others were already on their way to D anyway. So he'd have backup right away."

Sirius shook his head and then immediately brought a hand to it, the motion probably having caused him pain. "I need to get in there."

Then, to Carl's surprise, Sirius removed his arm from Maggie's shoulders and began moving forward toward the prison. Carl couldn't help finding himself both annoyed and impressed by his obstinance, watching him shuffle as quickly as he could, which was pretty slow and with the steadiness of a baby deer. He would have looked comical if the situation hadn't been so dire. Maggie hovered behind him, uttering a quiet but imploring, "Sirius…"

Sirius ignored her and kept moving toward the building until his feet finally gave out and he dropped to one knee. Maggie moved around him and crouched in front of him. Carl took a few steps closer but stayed back. He could see a mild gash in the back of Sirius' head.

"Sirius, look at me," Maggie said softly.

Sirius' head was bowed as he leaned it against the knee that was still upright. He was breathing hard again and he released a strangled sort of growl of frustration. Yet, when he finally looked up at Maggie, Carl was surprised to see so much defiance still in his eyes.

"We all look out for one another here," Maggie said, raising her brows sternly. "That means we all look out for Harry, and we all look out for you too. Y'all being wizards doesn't exempt you from that. So you need to trust that my husband and the others are doing whatever it takes to look out for Harry in your absence, and you need to accept that I'm going to look out for you by getting you away from Walkers and keeping you out of that cell block when you can't stay steady on your own feet. Are we clear?"

Sirius stared at Maggie, still panting, his eyes hard with skepticism but searching. To Carl, he looked like a wary animal that had been cornered and couldn't decide if the human reaching out to it was trying to help it or not. After a moment, however, his features softened and he let out a heavy exhale, his shoulders slumping as he dropped his forehead back to his knee again. Keeping it there, he nodded very slightly, muttering a defeated, "Fine…I…I hear you."

Any anger Carl had for him a minute ago evaporated.

---

After his adrenaline faded and learning that they weren't only dealing with Walkers, but a deadly disease, Harry found himself in a daze. He had been awake less than an hour and he was already exhausted. He also knew he couldn't go back to sleep if he tried. The events of the morning were slowly catching up to his brain.

Patrick was dead. A few others were too. He saw someone getting eaten by someone who had once been their friend, family, or, at the very least, neighbor, their organs spilling all over the place. Harry had adjusted quickly to the violence that came with killing Walkers, but he had yet to see anyone be killed by one or turn into one. He thought he understood the darkness he was dealing with in this world, but he now realized just how truly horrifying it was. He had even been reaching a point where he believed he might just be better off here than in his own world. Truthfully, he had simply been ignorant to how fortunate he was to have ended up at the prison community, which was considerably safe.

He couldn't imagine dealing with this much death and violence on a regular basis.

Harry didn't remember moving along the balcony until Daryl impeded his path. He was somewhat aware of Daryl moving his hands in patting motions, starting from his shoulders and moving down to his shins, crouching as he got lower. It vaguely registered to Harry that he was checking him for injuries. He recognized the contrast to how Daryl had patted him down in search of weapons when they'd first met, having been rough then and gentle now. He looked down when he realized Daryl was trying to catch his eye.

"You sure you ain't hurt or bit?" Daryl asked, his eyes searching Harry's with concern. A distant part of Harry warmed with appreciation, but he was still too out of it to really let it register. He closed his eyes, allowing his lids a tight squeeze together before opening them again and nodding.

Standing again, Daryl said, "This is all Walker blood then? None of it's yours?"

Harry nodded once more as he looked down at his clothes and understood why Daryl was worried: he was soaked in blood. "Patrick was the only one that got close enough to do anything to me, and I kept his teeth away until you got him."

Daryl seemed to appraise him for a moment, his eyes lingering on Harry thoughtfully before ushering him down to the main floor. Harry followed automatically, happy to let someone else take the reins so that he could stay off in space.

The next thing he knew, Glenn was coming up to them with something in his hands. Harry recognized the item as Patrick's glasses and took them, intending to make sure they were buried with him. He knew it was silly, but as someone who was reliant on glasses himself, he didn't like the idea of Patrick not having them in death. Harry had no concrete belief in any type of afterlife, but he knew in the Wizarding World that such a thing was more likely to be real, as ghosts existed and he'd once been saved by echoes of multiple dead people, including his parents.

Maybe it was different in this world, but Harry couldn't bear the idea of Patrick moving on to some kind of afterlife being unable to see. He looked over at his Walker corpse that lie still a few feet away, staring at it. According to what Hershel and Dr. S. described, Patrick had choked to death on his own blood.

A heavy swirl of nausea waved through Harry's stomach, reminiscent of what he'd experienced when he'd smelled the putrid breath of Patrick's Walker corpse, only significantly stronger. He heard his pulse pounding in his ears and found himself both dizzy and with a sudden headache at the same time. He quickly moved to the closest corner and bent over, hands on his knees as he vomited. Harry found himself both hot and cold as he heaved, sweaty but shivering. His knees began to feel weak, so he squatted and moved one hand to the wall for support.

He didn't even startle when a hand touched his back, despite how little he expected it. The hand slid slowly up and down in a soothing motion as his throwing up turned into dry heaves. Harry wasn't sure whose hand it was, but didn't terribly care even though it was something that would normally embarrass him. He could only focus on his head and his stomach and how uncomfortable they both were.

He finally reached a point where he was no longer heaving, the nausea slowly subsiding. His head still pounded, but the ache was dull now rather than sharp. He swallowed a few times, staying put as he tried to assess if he was done vomiting or not. When he was pretty sure he was in the clear, he swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and then wiped it on the side of his sweatpants, slowly standing. The hand on his back moved under his bicep to help support him.

He turned, expecting to see Sirius, even though he knew Sirius would have spoken. If not Sirius, he figured it would be Glenn, maybe even Daryl, since he had just been with them, though the idea of Daryl rubbing his back seemed a little out of character for what he knew of him. Then again, Harry was somewhat taken aback with how soft Daryl had just been with him upstairs.

It wasn't Sirius, Glenn, or Daryl, however, but, to Harry's deep surprise, Carol.

He looked at her with confusion as she offered him a strained smile, her hand returning to his back as he got himself fully upright. It lingered there for a moment to make sure he was steady before pulling away. Harry didn't know what to say. This was the last thing he expected from her. Carol hardly spoke to him since their confrontation weeks ago regarding her distrust, and when they did, it was short and carefully polite.

"You did good, Harry," she said. There was a genuine pride in her features that caught Harry off guard. "You did good," she repeated with a nod.

Harry held eye contact with her for a moment as Daryl and Zach also came over. He appreciated her words and her comfort, but he felt it was misplaced. Whatever he'd done hadn't been enough. People were still dead. He shook his head at her.

"I should have been faster," he breathed.

Now Carol was shaking her head. "Zach and I just checked in with everyone from block D. All of them were so grateful for you. In the few minutes between when you got here and the rest of us did, they said you killed at least six Walkers and slowed down a group of them so that most of the people upstairs could get down in time. Karen said you saved her and Luke, and Ryan said you saved him."

"Others still died," Harry insisted, not wanting to be told he was a hero again.

"Deaths were inevitable in this situation, unfortunately. I think we're all in agreement there would have been a lot more, though, if not for you. We lost five. That number would probably be more than doubled without you. Think about it…at the very least, you saved someone's girlfriend, a child, and the father of two little girls. That's significant."

Harry looked away, letting his eyes move back to the part of the floor that wasn't covered in his vomit, uncomfortable with being able to feel Carol, Daryl, and Zach all watching him. "Yeah, I guess…" he conceded. "Just…Patrick…"

"Patrick was my fault, man," Zach said, his voice hoarse. "I checked on him last night, knew he was sick. He insisted he'd be okay and that he just wanted to try sleeping it off. I made him promise he would see Dr. S. or Hershel if he wasn't feeling any better in the morning. I never thought waiting till the morning would be too long…"

There was a silence among them for a moment before Daryl spoke. "None of this was anyone's fault. No one would've thought Patrick was sick enough to die."

Harry could feel Daryl's eyes land on him and he grudgingly returned the contact. "Patrick was a goner before you or anyone else could get here. You couldn't have done anything to help him. From the sound and looks of it, you did save a lot of other people. You gotta focus on that."

Harry nodded, just wanting this conversation to be over already. He looked around the cell block again, realizing he still hadn't seen his godfather. He swallowed. What if there were more Walkers somewhere else and Sirius was in danger? "Does anyone know where Sirius is?"

"He's outside with Carl and Maggie," replied Zach. "He's okay. He just fell and hit his head running back to the building. Rick went out to let them know what was going on and told him you're okay. He's waiting for you while Maggie fixes him up."

Harry wasted no time and left the cell block, hurrying even though everyone was safe. He knew that seeing his godfather right now was probably the only thing that would comfort him, and he knew Sirius was probably having kittens over knowing Harry had run head on into the dangerous situation alone.

The sun seemed unusually bright when Harry got out to the courtyard. He blinked several times before spotting Sirius sitting on the ground near the guard tower, Maggie crouched behind him as she cleaned and bandaged a wound on the back of his head. Carl was pacing around them, a rifle in hand. They all looked up as Harry approached, Sirius staring at him and immediately scrambling to his feet. Maggie protested and tried to urge him to wait a minute, but Sirius ignored her and stumbled upright.

"Harry!" Sirius yelled. He hurried toward him, eyes wide and shining as they stayed latched onto his own.

Harry was hit with a rush of relief and affection, jogging forward to meet Sirius so that he didn't have to move as far if he was feeling dizzy. As soon as Harry was in range, Sirius pulled him against him in a tight hug that knocked some of the wind out of him. One of Sirius' arms clamped around Harry's back while his other hand pressed the side of Harry's head into his chest. Even though it was slightly difficult to breathe in his godfather's firm hold, Harry took comfort in the closeness, squeezing his eyes shut and wrapping his arms around his godfather in return as his emotions finally rose to the surface. The cadence of Sirius' heartbeat under his ear sent soothing shockwaves through him.

Eventually, Sirius pulled away but kept his hands on Harry's shoulders, his eyes roving over Harry's bloodstained clothes before locking eyes with him. "You're not hurt?"

"No, I'm all right," Harry replied quietly.

Sirius exhaled through his nose. "Harry, what were you thinking?"

Even though Harry expected this response and knew it was derived from a place of love and worry, irritation started to itch at him. He clenched his teeth. "I was thinking…that I should try to help keep people alive."

"Sure, but not by yourself, mate," Sirius said softly, his patience somehow grating at Harry more than if he'd reacted angrily.

Harry stepped back and brushed one of Sirius' hands off his shoulder as Sirius removed his other hand voluntarily. "Yeah, well, I sort of thought you were going to already be there."

Sirius winced, and Harry knew he was dealing a low blow that wasn't fair. It wasn't Sirius' fault that Patrick happened to have died and become a Walker the first night Sirius slept somewhere else, which he hadn't even done on purpose by the looks of it from Harry's own eyes. Not to mention, Harry had had the opportunity to wake Sirius and chosen not to. His godfather shouldn't be punished for potentially finding love for the first time in over a decade. It's not like Harry was a child. He could be by himself overnight without Sirius around. Harry knew all of this in the back of his head, but there was a bitter part of him he couldn't explain that wanted to lash out anyway.

"I know, Harry, I'm sorry."

And his godfather's lack of a fight was spiking Harry's temper even more. Sirius was supposed to be the one always getting angry and clashing with people. Now, when Harry actually wanted him to explode, he was remaining calm, his eyes obnoxiously full of worry. Before Harry knew it, his volume was rising. "You weren't there and I had to do it by myself again!"

"Harry, he was hurt and I wouldn't let him go inside," Maggie said, walking over. "Sirius tried really hard to get to you."

Turning on Maggie, Harry shouted, "HE SHOULD HAVE ALREADY BEEN THERE!"

Sirius took Harry's chin and turned Harry's face back toward him. "Don't yell at Maggie. Yell at me. Harry…" Sirius sighed, still steady, though he did look incredibly weary. As he pulled his hand away from Harry's chin, Harry noticed it was shaking. "You and I both need to…stop trying to do everything on our own." He glanced at Maggie. "Wizards or not, we still need to rely on other people sometimes. Look, you're right. I should have been there and I wasn't, and I'm truly sorry…but since I wasn't there, you should have stuck with the rest of the group so that there were other people to look out for you."

Harry laughed derisively and turned away, pacing a little before facing his godfather again. "Everyone in there kept telling me how much of a difference it made that I was there ahead of the others. You can't tell me there wouldn't have been a cost to me hanging back."

"That might be true, but it wouldn't be on you. Your safety matters as much as anyone else's." Sirius spoke his next sentence with a pained urgency. "Harry, you don't value your own life enough."

"LOOK WHO'S TALKING!" Harry gestured at him dramatically.

Sirius shut his eyes and released a breath, showing his first hint of impatience since this argument started. It hit Harry with a sort of savage pleasure. Yet, when Sirius opened his eyes again, the calm mask was back on. "That's why I said we both need to stop trying to do everything on our own. I'm going to work on it too."

Harry stared at him, waves of anger still flowing through him, but more gently now. He couldn't be sorry for choosing to go to block D on his own, knowing the difference it made. He hadn't done it to play the hero or for some kind of glory. It was just instinct for him to help people in danger and it felt wrong to ignore that instinct. The idea of hanging back for his own safety seemed selfish.

And he knew Sirius had that same instinct, that same self-loathing at the idea of putting his own safety first. He was a hypocrite to give Harry grief for being the same way.

Carl stepped forward. "Hey, I think I've got something that'll make you feel better. C'mon."

Carl motioned for Harry to follow him and walked away without waiting for an answer. Harry wasn't sure if he was in the mood for whatever Carl had in mind, but he thought about Carl's anger toward Lizzie for her attitude about the Walkers. "Have you seen what happens? Have you seen someone die like that?"

Harry caught Sirius' eye, half apologetically, half dismissively, and Sirius jerked his head in Carl's direction, offering a strained smile that Harry knew was meant to be reassuring. It wasn't, but Harry took it for what it was supposed to be and followed his friend.

---

When Carl's dad had emerged from the building, blood on him, but alive and in one piece, the relief hit him harder than he thought it would. He felt tears in his eyes as he rushed toward him, not listening as Rick tried to tell him something about how he should stay away from him. Carl could only tackle him with a hug before confessing to and apologizing for using a gun, insisting that he'd needed to. Rick didn't seem angry or upset, but Maggie and Sirius had backed him up anyway.

Rick explained that there was a deadly flu strain that had made people die in their cells and turn, one of those people being Patrick. The news hit Carl with a dull sort of thud to the chest.

"I'm sorry. I know he was your friend. He was a good kid."

His dad's words echoed in Carl's head with guilt. Some friend he'd been, giving Patrick a hard time for his more childlike tendencies, insisting he was probably just being a wuss when he was legitimately and fatally ill.

He should have checked on him.

Rick went on to explain that Harry had been a tremendous help in keeping the death toll down and that he was safe, but maybe in a little shock. Sirius had moved to go inside again, but Maggie grabbed his arm and gave him another reproachful eyebrow raise. Sirius sighed in defeat and stayed put as she got to work tending to his head wound. Rick said he would send Harry out to see him.

When his dad went back inside to help take care of the damage from the attack, Carl decided to wait for Harry with Maggie and Sirius. He realized Harry had never seen any deaths by Walker before and that that was probably a different experience for him than the stuff he'd discussed facing in his world. He wanted to be there for his friend if he could.

When Harry came outside, he looked a little lost and there was blood all over his clothes. His eyes lit up at the sight of Sirius, who jumped up to embrace him despite Maggie's protests. Their happy reunion, however, quickly turned into Harry exploding with anger, Sirius standing there and taking it. It was strange to see Harry like that. He was typically quite composed, and Carl felt awkward, like he was intruding on something private. He recognized that Harry was lashing out, as Carl had demonstrated anger in similar ways after losses, and he knew that Harry likely didn't mean a lot of what he was saying. Sirius was probably his target because he knew he was a safe person to unload his emotions on. Sirius seemed to understand this, too, since he responded gently to every verbal hit Harry threw his way.

There was a lapse in their conversation where Harry appeared to be simmering down a little, processing things, and Carl seized the moment to step in as an idea struck him. Somewhat cautiously, Carl moved closer to Harry and said, "Hey, I think I've got something that'll make you feel better. C'mon."

He waved a hand for Harry to follow him and walked away, knowing if he waited for Harry to reply, he was less likely to take him up on the invitation. Seconds later, Harry caught up to him.

They walked in silence for a bit as they made their way around the building before Harry cleared his throat and said, "Sorry about that, back there. I guess I sort of…lost it."

"It's all good, man," Carl said. "I've freaked out on people before too." He chanced a side glance at Harry and could see that his body language was still tense. It reaffirmed that his idea was a good one.

Carl had them stop in a small alcove type of area that was mostly closed off by three walls.

"Er…what are we doing?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

Carl didn't say anything, but moved over to a trash can in the corner that had several dents in it. He pulled it down onto its side on the ground and then went back to the corner, where an aluminum baseball bat leaned against the wall in the space behind where the can had been. He brought the bat over to Harry and handed it to him.

"Go nuts," he said.

Harry took the bat and stared from it to the trash can before looking back at Carl. "What, you want me to lay into the can?"

"Obviously." Carl took the can by the rim and turned it so Harry could see inside. "It's empty."

"Won't the noise worry people after what just happened?"

"No one inside will hear it. Maggie knows what it is if Sirius hears it."

Harry let the bat sway lightly back in forth in his hand for a moment. "You do this often?"

"Not too much. Just occasionally when stuff gets built up a lot." Carl shrugged. "It was my dad's idea."

He pointedly took a few steps backward to give Harry space and encourage him, folding his arms in front of his chest expectedly. Harry looked back down at the bat, then at the can, and then hefted the bat into a swinging position. He held it up for a few seconds, his eyes focused on the can, and then swung down so that the bat hit it with a loud clang. It added another small dent to the collection and Carl's lip curled in satisfaction.

Harry retracted the bat and, this time, glared at the trash can. He hit it with a sort of growl, now zeroing in on the can as if it had been responsible for killing his parents. Carl watched as Harry hit the can again and again, grunting and snarling with each swing, a fresh sheen of sweat forming on his face and his breathing becoming more and more ragged.

Now that he had started, it didn't look like he would be stopping any time soon. Carl stayed quiet and kept his distance until he started to see Harry's eyes flutter and his stance slacken, taking longer pauses between swings and deeper breaths. At that point, Carl reached a hand out, grinning in amusement and saying, "Okay, okay, that's enough. Don't pass out on me."

Harry stood there for a moment after his last swing and leaned on the bat while he caught his breath. He handed it to Carl and wiped the back of his hand across his head. Carl put the bat and the can back where they were and then took a good look at his friend.

Harry had his hands on his hips with his head hung as his panting subsided into more even breathing. After resting a little longer, he looked up and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes off in space before settling on Carl. He breathed a hollow laugh and said, "Thanks. That…that really did help."

Carl smiled. "I'm glad."

Harry nodded at the corner. "You don't want to have a go?"

Carl shook his head, knowing Harry was asking because he thought Carl might want to release his own grief for Patrick's death. The thing was, Carl wasn't feeling anything related to that right now. He was just numb.

---

"Patrick was fine yesterday," Carol said from her seat at the Council table, "and he died overnight. Two people died that quick? We have to separate everyone that's been exposed."

Daryl, having been listening intently, recognized the logic of Carol's suggestion, but he could also see the magnitude of actually carrying it out successfully. "That's everyone in that cell block. That's all of us, maybe more."

"We know that this sickness can be lethal," said Hershel. "We don't know how easily it spreads. Is anyone else showing symptoms that we know of?"

"We can't just wait and see," replied Carol. "I mean there's children. It isn't just the illness. People die and they become a threat."

Daryl looked at Sirius, who had been invited to the meeting for his potential magical abilities in the situation. "Don't suppose you can wave that wand of yours and cure people, can ya?"

Sirius looked back at him grimly, shaking his head and then holding a hand up to the back of it. "My medical expertise is limited to cuts, abrasions…more surface level injuries. Trained Healers would be able to do something, but even then, they would probably have to use potions."

"Can you think of anything magic-wise that can…protect people who aren't infected from getting it?" asked Glenn.

Sirius ran his fingers around his jaw absently for a moment. "Bubble Head charms might help."

Before Daryl or anyone else could ask, Sirius pointed his wand at his head and muttered, "Sanuspirantes." The name of the spell was quite literal, apparently, because a bubble immediately formed around Sirius' head. "This provides me with continuous clean air as long as it's not popped. Harry and I could go around and cast these on people. I'm not sure how pragmatic of a solution it is, though. You'll have to break the bubble any time you eat or drink anything, for starters."

"That may be helpful if what we're dealing with is only airborne," Hershel nodded thoughtfully. "Yet, I think we may be facing an illness that can be spread by touch as well. Besides, you and Harry can't just be running around the prison all day reapplying these charms to people."

Sirius shrugged. "We can try."

"Maybe we just have you cast it on anyone who's knowingly gonna be around someone infected, like Dr. S." interjected Daryl. "Hell, it might at least reduce the chances of catching it."

"We still need to separate people," said Sasha.

Hershel nodded again. "We need a place for 'em to go. They can't stay in D. We can't risk going in there to clean it up."

"I could go in and clean it with magic," Sirius said. "It wouldn't take too long. I could be in and out in a few minutes."

"You will do no such thing," Hershel said, gentle but firm. "It's not worth you risking yourself."

Sirius sat up straighter and opened his mouth like he was about to argue, but seemed to decide against it, his eyes going distant contemplatively before leaning back and nodding.

"We can use cell block A," Carol suggested.

Glenn looked at her, disheartened. "Death row? Not sure that's much of an upgrade."

Daryl knew Glenn was thinking putting people in A would sink their spirits and cause more fear, but in terms of keeping the infection from spreading, it was probably one of the most viable locations. "It's clean. That's an upgrade." Daryl looked at Hershel. "Think that'll work for Dr. S.?"

"I'll help Caleb get set up," Hershel agreed.

The unmistakable sound of someone coughing deeply reached Daryl's ears from the hallway. He immediately stood and everyone else followed suit, hurrying over to the door. Dammit, it's already starting.

Beth and Zach were passing by, Zach being the one who was coughing.

"You okay?" Beth asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Zach replied, casting Beth a halfhearted grin.

Carol was the first one in the hallway. "Are you sure? You don't sound so good."

Beth and Zach turned at the sound of her voice. Daryl noticed that Zach looked nervous and remembered that he'd checked up on Patrick last night.

Zach waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, I'm cool, probably just dehydrated, throat's dry. I'll make sure to drink some water when we get to Beth's cell."

Hershel came out with his hands on his hips. "Zach, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Daddy, it's fine," Beth said exasperatedly.

"No…it's not. I'm sorry, Zach, but I can't have you being near my daughter if you may have the same flu that Patrick did."

Zach's eyes widened in slight panic. "I wouldn't—"

"And Judith is in that cell block. She's vulnerable. Anyone that may be sick or even exposed should stay away."

Zach frowned, but nodded, sighing in a resigned way. "All right…I don't want to risk spreading anything." He looked at Beth apologetically and took a few steps backward, away from her.

Beth opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again before turning to face Hershel. "Zach's gonna be okay, though, right, Daddy?"

Hershel smiled reassuringly at her. "Now that we're on top of the situation, yes, he should be all right. We're gonna figure this out. But we should keep you separated in the meantime. I'll have Caleb take a look at you and see what we have in the way of medications."

"Ryan's been coughing too," Zach said quietly. "I can't think of anyone else that has been so far."

"Okay, I'll get him," Carol said, turning to head in the opposite direction. "There are some empty clean cells in the tombs, right?"

"Yeah, we'll meet you there," Sasha said, beckoning Zach toward her. "Come on, let's get you settled." He followed, his head slightly hung, while Beth trailed a few feet behind him.

That left Daryl standing there with Glenn, Sirius, and Hershel. Glenn was leaning against the wall, arms folded and gaze distant.

"I'll have to call another meeting later," Hershel said.

"All right," said Daryl. "I'll get to burying the dead ones."

"I'll help you," Sirius offered.

"You wear gloves and have Sirius cast one of those bubble charms on ya."

"Mhm," Daryl replied, exchanging looks with Sirius as Hershel walked off. "Let's go."

"I'll meet you there," said Sirius.

Daryl scrutinized him, not sure why he was hanging back. He looked at Glenn to see that he seemed off in space. Sirius remained stoic, shoving his hands in his pockets and nodding at Daryl to go on ahead. Daryl narrowed his eyes, sensing something was off, though he couldn't tell what. "All right."

Daryl was gathering gloves and shovels outside when Sirius joined him. He instantly handed him a pair. Then, feeling awkward and exposed, Daryl stood in front of Sirius, chin up, hands fidgeting at his sides.

Sirius arched a brow. "What, are you about to recite me a love sonnet?"

Daryl grit his teeth. "Just do it, man."

"Do what?"

Daryl rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face with an exasperated exhale. "Put the damn bubble around my head!"

Sirius grinned. "Are you…nervous?"

"Not as nervous as I'm gonna make you if you mess it up."

Now it was Sirius' turn to roll his eyes. "Jesus, it's just a bubble."

Daryl felt stupid. He'd seen Sirius and Harry perform plenty of magic around him, but nothing had ever been cast on him so far. He knew Sirius was competent and reliable even if Daryl himself knew nothing about how magic worked. He knew the only thing being done to him was having a harmless bubble stuck around his head, one that he could apparently break at any time. Yet, there was something about the prospect of magic being performed on him that was giving him anxiety.

Don't be such a pussy.

Sirius raised both brows at him expectantly. He looked like he was trying to contain his amusement. Daryl exhaled again and nodded.

Sirius slowly raised the wand and pointed it at Daryl's face. "All right, I'm going to cast it on the count of three. One…two…"

"You ain't rippin' a bandaid off a toddler. Just do it already."

"Sanuspirantes."

A transparent sheet of liquid appeared in front of Daryl and stretched over his face. He jumped slightly when he felt a cool sensation slide in a circle from under his chin to the back of his head as the bubble apparently attached itself to him. He moved his eyes left and right and could just make out the clear form of a bubble around his face. Then he tried turning his head in different directions. He could still see everything around him perfectly fine, perhaps even slightly more in focus. He was surprised that he barely noticed the weight of the bubble at all, having expected it to add a heaviness that would restrict his movement. He took a slow, deep breath in and out, and without being able to describe how, it was the freshest, smoothest breath he could ever remember taking.

"This is so fuckin' weird," Daryl said, more to himself than Sirius, who merely shrugged and cast the same charm on himself. He looked almost like he had a fishbowl over his head.

Then Sirius pressed his lips together in a thin line and donned his gloves. "Shall we get to it, then?"

Suddenly remembering why he was having this bubble put on him in the first place, Daryl abandoned his astonishment. He put his own gloves on and grabbed a shovel.

Magic couldn't stop bodies from needing burying.

---

At first, Sirius had been taken aback when Glenn had fetched him, saying the Council wanted him to join their meeting. He hadn't attended a meeting with them since he and Harry first revealed their abilities. It made sense, he supposed, to see if the guy who could perform magic could somehow help with a deadly illness.

The reality, however, was that Sirius was out of his league in this situation. He only knew simple spells for minor injuries that he and the other Marauders had looked into learning for their full moon escapades. A fatal flu strain like this would require someone with years of magical medical training and knowledge like Madame Pomfrey, at the very least. But Sirius followed Glenn and Daryl to meet the others and hoped for the best.

His head still ached and he would get dizzy when he moved a lot, but he was functional compared to when he'd first injured himself. He took some Muggle painkillers and let Maggie bandage the gash since it was in a place he couldn't see. Hershel had shined a light in his eyes and said he didn't seem concussed. Later, he would find a mirror and try to use his reflection to apply some magic to the injury.

If he was honest with himself, Sirius sort of welcomed the distraction of attending the Council meeting after Harry had blown up at him. He hadn't taken any of what his godson had said to heart, but he would be lying if he'd said it hadn't stung in the moment. He was happy to be there for Harry to take his frustrations out on if it helped him. The most disconcerting part of the whole interaction was seeing just how little his godson valued his own life, ready to risk himself at the drop of a hat any time anyone was in danger. And, as Harry had pointed out, Sirius was the same way. He was okay with being that way himself, but if Harry was looking to him as an example, Sirius knew with an unsettling feeling in his stomach that he would have to be more careful. He had already agreed to reduce his risk taking so he could stay in Harry's life, but now he would have to demonstrate that he actually valued his own life enough not to risk it.

That was a tall order that was going to require undoing decades of living with the notion that other people's lives were more important than his.

During the meeting, the only useful thing Sirius could come up with to help was casting Bubble Head charms. As Hershel pointed out, however, the illness could also likely be spread via touch. He had then offered to clean up block D so that no one else got exposed, but Hershel shot that down immediately, saying it wasn't worth the risk to Sirius. He was about to argue that he would use the charm on himself, but he remembered that he needed to start practicing valuing his own life, even if Harry wasn't here to witness it. Harry could still potentially discover Sirius taking on the task, and the result would be that he either joined in to help, risking himself once more, or he would see yet again that Sirius was putting himself at risk.

So Sirius shut up on that front.

He wasn't happy to see that Zach appeared to be sick when they heard him coughing in the hallway. He knew Harry would probably worry for his friend after losing Patrick, but Zach struck Sirius as stronger and more able-bodied, and no one had known what was going on with Patrick. Now, Dr. S. and Hershel could tackle the flu before it took over.

Hershel had admonished Zach about being around Beth and then mentioned that Zach couldn't be in the main cell block because Judith was in there and was more susceptible. Sirius immediately thought of Maggie and how getting the illness could not only harm her but her pregnancy. He cast a subtle glance at Glenn and could see his Adam's apple move with a swallow, a fresh sheen of sweat on his face.

Zach and Ryan, who was also mentioned to be coughing, would be moved to cells in the tombs to stay separated from everyone else. After Carol, Sasha, Zach, and Beth all left, Daryl said he would start burying the dead, and Sirius didn't begrudge the additional notch of respect that chipped at him for the guy, who was always stepping up to take the more unpleasant tasks so that no one else had to deal with them. Sirius said he would help, reasoning that burying individual bodies would likely be safer than moving about the entire cell block that had been tainted. The bodies had been brought outside, wrapped in sheets, so all that was to be done was bury graves and lower the bodies into them. Sirius could levitate the bodies. He considered that he could also dig the graves faster and more easily with magic, but he personally felt that there was something more dignified about physically digging the graves, that putting in that work honored the deceased a little more. He had a feeling Daryl would agree as well, so he didn't bring it up.

Hershel told them to use gloves and Bubble Head charms and left to talk to Dr. S. Daryl made to go outside, but paused when Sirius didn't follow. Glenn was still leaning against the wall, seeming like he wasn't exactly present. Sirius thought about Maggie again and decided he needed to talk to Glenn.

"I'll meet you there," he told Daryl, who eyed him suspiciously before conceding and taking off.

Sirius turned to Glenn, who finally pushed away from the wall and, in a forced lightness that didn't hide the quaver in his voice, said, "Well, I guess I should go do…something."

"Glenn," Sirius said, making sure Glenn looked him in the eyes, "you and Maggie need to tell them. Maggie can't afford to be exposed."

Glenn looked off to the side for a moment, biting his lip, before looking back at Sirius. "I'll just make sure Maggie knows she needs to stay in our cell."

Sirius shook his head. "With all that she does around here, do you really think her absence wouldn't be noticed? You know she'll be expected to help in some way."

Glenn bowed his head and put his face in his hand, then brought his eyes back up to Sirius but kept his hand over his mouth, his eyes desperate. "Hershel already has a lot on his plate. What if knowing Maggie's pregnant keeps him from making the right decisions? Or sends him into a panic or something?"

"Hershel can handle it. That man's as steady as a rock."

"Sirius…" Glenn squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, they were shining with tears. "What if Maggie gets sick and recovers, but the baby gets sick and…Or what if they both get sick and only one or the other can be saved and they choose to save the baby? I—"

Sirius put his hands on Glenn's shoulders. "Breathe, Glenn…Listen to me, the best way to ensure that both Maggie and the baby stay safe is to let everyone know so she can be properly protected. And…there is no way anyone would ever override your decision in the unlikely event it came to that."

"It's just…with Judith's birth, she could only live if Lori died. She had to be cut out of her. Only Maggie and Carl were there to do anything because they were trapped. And if Maggie's going to have a baby, I don't want it to be like that. It can't."

Sirius raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes at Glenn earnestly. "It won't. I promise. Please, tell Hershel, just for starters, and then let him take over from there. He won't let you down. You've gotta believe that."

Glenn sighed and nodded. "I do."

From there, Sirius made his way outside to find Daryl, thinking about Glenn and Maggie and sympathizing with the stress they were obviously under.

He was grateful when Daryl distracted him with his highly entertaining nerves about having the Bubble Head charm performed on him. Sirius couldn't help enjoying watching him squirm over it for a moment, though he tried not to be too much of an ass about it. Then the stark reality of why they needed the Bubble Head charm in the first place returned to the forefront of his mind, and Sirius found himself somber again.

He and Daryl started digging.

---

After taking Harry to release his frustrations on the trash can, Carl started heading back inside with him. Rick came outside first, though, and looked around somewhat frantically before he spotted the two of them, calling Carl's name and heading their way.

"Listen, I'm not trying to be a jerk, but you two need to stay away from each other right now," said Rick. "Harry, you were highly exposed and could be contagious."

At hearing this, Harry immediately took a few steps away from Carl, who frowned sympathetically. His dad was still looking at Harry.

"Are ya feelin' all right?"

"Yeah…" Harry replied with a pacifying upward inflection. "I threw up inside, but that was because I'm not used to…well…I feel better now. No cough or anything."

Rick nodded. "Okay. That's good. I do still think you should try to keep your distance from everyone. I'm trying to do the same as much as I can while there's work to be done. You probably ought to burn those pajamas. I'll grab you a change of clothes and then show you a spot you can do that safely."

Harry nodded dully. "Okay."

"Carl, you should probably go inside. Maybe…I don't know, hang out in your cell for now, or at least just try to stay away from people. I'll find you in a little while."

Carl sighed. "Got it."

Rick held his gaze for a moment before nodding and walking away. Carl looked back at Harry.

"I want to do something for Patrick," he said. "I think I'm gonna try making a cross for his grave."

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses. Patrick's glasses. "Think you could hang these on the cross, or just make sure they're buried with him?"

"Yeah, definitely," Carl said as he took the glasses from Harry. He looked down at the glasses and rotated them absently in his hands before looking back up at him. There was a strange sadness hanging between them. "Well…see ya soon, I guess."

"Yeah…see you."

Carl found some planks of wood, a hammer, some twine, and nails, and then settled on the floor of the empty cafeteria, thinking about everything that had happened that day as he started putting a cross together. It had been so long since he'd seen any death or that there had been any around him that it had almost started to feel like those things had been from another lifetime. For a while, he had struggled with his father's direction to focus on farming instead of fighting and having his gun taken away. The idea of not staying sharp after he had spent about a year perfecting his shooting and handling the threats of both Walkers and people made him antsy. After some time, though, he started to grow more okay with stepping back from the violence and bloodshed to remember that there was still more to his life than that. He never presumed he would be safe forever, but he appreciated that things could be safe at least sometimes.

He wished Michonne hadn't left so soon. If she had waited just another few minutes, she would have been there to help when block D was under attack. Carl missed her comforting presence, simultaneously soft and strong, unafraid to take action but always levelheaded about it. Sometimes, Carl even found himself looking up to her more than his dad.

He quickly reminded himself that his dad was trying, and that he was doing it for Carl's sake. So Carl tried too.

He heard footsteps and glanced up to see Carol walking in. A slight nervousness settled in his stomach. Over the last few hours, he had forgotten about what he'd seen her teaching the kids and that he still hadn't decided how to handle it yet. It was also the first time he'd been face to face with her since then.

Carl and Carol had had their differences in the past, mostly in the recent months after discovering Sophia's Walker in the barn, when Carl was younger and newer to loss. Carol had also been different, more helpless and fragile. Now, both of them were stronger and both of them had more respect for each other.

Carl didn't want to start off the upcoming conversation on a hostile note. He wanted to show that he still believed they were on the same team.

He held up the cross to show her. "Do you know if Patrick was Catholic?"

A slight smile on her face as she leaned on one of the tables, Carol replied, "He said he was a practicing atheist."

Well, shit…he really didn't know his "friend" at all.

Carl sighed, set the cross back on the floor, and began pulling it apart with the hammer.

"Did you tell your dad what you saw in the library yesterday?" Carol asked softly.

Of course she was getting right to it. Carol was always direct. Carl stayed focused on the tools in front of him, saying, "Nope," over his shoulder as he continued working.

"Are you going to tell him?"

Trying to stay composed and still not having an answer, Carl kept his head down and didn't say anything.

"I have to keep teaching those kids to survive," Carol continued. "You know that."

Carl pushed through a wave of frustration. He knew she was right, but she was also wrong. Still only talking to her over his shoulder, he asked, "Why were you teaching them how to kill Harry and Sirius?"

There was a silent pause before Carol sat down at the table next to Carl, leaning toward him so that she was more difficult to avoid looking at. "That's what you think I was doing?"

She sounded genuinely taken aback. Carl found himself confused, trying to remember the exact words Carol had used when she'd talked about being attacked by wizards. "Well, yeah…" he said slowly.

"I'm not trying to tell them to kill Harry or Sirius," Carol said firmly. "I…I've specified that to them before." She took a deep breath as if steeling herself and Carl finally turned to face her fully, wanting to make sure he paid close attention to whatever she was about to say next. "Look…Harry and Sirius came here from another world where there are many other people like them. From what I've heard, they're also pretty prominent where they come from, with plenty of enemies. Who's to say none of them ever find a way here to come after them? After us?"

A knot formed in Carl's stomach. He'd never considered that before. "You don't think that'll happen, do you? I mean, Harry and Sirius can't figure out how to get back. That must mean whatever entrance they took is like…blocked or something."

The corners of Carol's lips lifted slightly in a sad sort of smile. "We have no idea what they can do in their world. That's why I want to make sure those kids are ready if it happens."

Carl mulled this all over, now having another component to consider in his dilemma. He wasn't dismissing Carol's point, but he did believe—or at least hoped—that the likelihood of more wizards coming to their world was slim, let alone that kids at the prison would ever encounter a wizard intent on killing them. He sighed and looked back at his project. "Do their parents know?"

"No."

He already knew that answer, of course, but it still had to be asked. "Are you gonna tell them?"

"If I do, maybe after this morning, they'll understand, but maybe they won't, and I don't want to take that risk."

"That's between you and them," Carl decided..

"No. It's between you and me. If you tell your dad, he'll tell them. And like I said, maybe they'll understand, maybe they won't."

Thoroughly annoyed that she was putting him in this position, Carl said, "I don't want to lie to my dad."

"I'm not asking you to lie…I'm asking you not to say anything."

That's still a…what did Dad always call it? A lie by omission? Carl clenched his teeth, not liking the idea of that any better. He didn't give her an answer one way or the other and kept working. She eventually said, "Please, just…think about it," and left him by himself.

A few moments after she was gone, Carl muttered, "I have been" to the empty room.

---

Sirius and Daryl were silent as they dug the graves, neither of them really needing or wanting to say anything. Sirius made sure he used magic to carefully drop the bodies in when ready so that he and Daryl could avoid touching them at all. Then they started to fill the graves. Sirius' arms began to ache and pain pulsed through his head the more energy he expended, but he welcomed it. He welcomed the fatigue that came with putting stress on his body, which was different than the fatigue that came with stress on his mind. It reminded him that he was alive when death was right in front of him.

Rick eventually came over, pausing to look between them in confusion, probably at the bubbles around their heads.

"Keeps a clean air supply," Sirius said before Rick could ask.

Rick nodded slowly and then thanked them for what they were doing. "I had Harry burn the clothes he was wearing and told him to stay away from everyone." When Sirius cast him a worried glance, Rick said, "He says he's feeling all right, but he was one of the most exposed, especially since Patrick was right on top of him."

Sirius felt like he'd just missed a step on the stairs. He stuck the shovel in the ground. "What do you mean Patrick was right on top of him?"

"When the rest of us got there, he was on the floor, wrestling Patrick off of him. It's okay—Daryl put Patrick down before Harry could get bit or anything. I just think it's safest for everyone if he keeps to himself for now."

"Where is he?"

"He's in bed, said he'd stay in his cell."

Somewhat dazed, Sirius nodded and returned to digging. He'd known Harry hadn't been safe in cell block D, but he hadn't realized just how close he'd come to dying, not to mention that he'd had to fight the Walker corpse of one of his friends.

And Daryl had saved him.

Sirius gripped the shovel harder as his hands began to shake. He couldn't believe how much he'd let Harry down. No wonder the kid had lashed out at him.

"Hey."

Startled from his reverie, Sirius looked around to see that Rick had left and Daryl was looking at him.

"He's all right. He's safe." Daryl stressed. "He just needs a bit of time to process things."

Sirius shook his head, driving the shovel into the ground more forcefully. "I should have been there. I should have fucking been there."

"You got tied up outside. Ain't your fault." When Sirius only growled in response, Daryl added, "You can't be there all the time."

Sirius stayed quiet, the rational part of his brain knowing Daryl was right but the emotional part telling him he needed to do better. He was grateful that Daryl wasn't trying to convince him anymore.

He was grateful Daryl had saved his godson.

He looked Daryl's way to see he was focused on digging, and he thought back to first meeting the man, and how hostile they'd been toward each other. It felt like a lifetime ago. Sirius opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened and closed it again, struggling to find the words. Daryl stopped digging and looked over at him.

"You pretending you're a fish to complete the look?" He waved a circle with his finger in front of his face.

"I…" Sirius' voice was coming out hoarse. He cleared his throat. "I just wanted…ah, Jesus…" Sirius faltered, looking off to the side in frustration, fully expecting Daryl to throw something snarky his way about spitting it out already. He was surprised to look back and see that Daryl was standing there silently, leaning on the shovel with an air of patience. Sirius tried again. "Thank you…for…protecting Harry."

Daryl blinked at him. "It's what we do."

Daryl went right back to digging as Sirius stood there, full of appreciation. He smiled to himself and got back to work as well.

---

After Rick's instructions, Harry spent the next couple of hours lying down on his back, a fresh and bloodless pair of jeans and a t-shirt on. It was strange…it was only late morning, just approaching noon. He'd been up a mere few hours, yet he was already tired enough to crave the rest of lying down again. He couldn't get back to sleep, though. His mind went back and forth from being blank to replaying everything that had happened in block D earlier.

He hoped Sirius would come by the cell soon so that he could apologize to him for his outburst. Guilt was swirling in his stomach for the cheap shots he'd taken, knowing Sirius would be beating himself up for not being there when the attack happened. He found himself squirming restlessly, adjusting his arms and legs on the bed over and over. He knew, though, that Sirius was very likely trying to give him space. Or, perhaps it was Sirius who needed space from Harry. After all, what kind of near-sixteen-year-old screamed at their parent for daring to be away from them for one night? Harry already wasn't exactly easy to deal with. And the worst part was that he knew Sirius wouldn't resent Harry for any of it, but would put all blame on himself instead.

Harry exhaled slowly and sharply, putting his hands over his eyes and massaging his temples.

Woman on the floor, a Walker feasting on her intestines.

Harry's eyes snapped back open and he sat up. He couldn't stay here any longer with nothing to occupy his mind. He needed some kind of distraction.

He jumped to his feet, standing there and continuing to massage his temples as if he could physically push the images out of his head. He tried to think of where he could go or what he could do that wouldn't have him endangering anyone of potential infection if he'd picked up anything. Before he could come up with something, a voice in the doorway caught his attention.

"Hey, Harry?" It was Lizzie, with Mika standing alongside her.

"Er, yeah, what's up?" Harry said. The girls started to approach them, but Harry held up a hand. "Stay there. I could be sick."

They both stopped in their tracks. Lizzie was fidgeting with her fingers. "We just wanted to say thanks…for saving our dad today."

"Oh." Harry's shoulders relaxed slightly as a warmth spread through him. He smiled at both girls. "Yeah, of course. I was glad I was able to. How's he doing?"

"They put him in quar…quartine—" Mika said.

"Quarantine," Lizzie corrected. "He was coughing."

Harry swallowed. "So he's sick?"

"Yeah, but he says it's just a cold, not like what Patrick had," Lizzie replied.

Mika rolled her eyes. "You're so stupid. He was obviously lying."

Lizzie rounded on her sister. "No, he wasn't. All he has is a cough."

"I'm sure he meant it," Harry interjected, trying to prevent the argument from escalating. "There's no reason to worry, especially not now that Dr. S. and Hershel know to pay attention. Everyone's just trying to be safe."

"Well…thank you," Mika said with a wide smile that Harry couldn't help returning, the little girl's sweetness endearing enough to let him forget all the dark stuff for a moment. At least some good had come out of Harry going to block D this morning.

"You're welcome. Hey, do you know, was anyone else coughing enough to be put into quarantine?"

"Zach," said Lizzie. "He's in the cell right next to our dad."

"What block?"

"The cells in the tombs," Mika said.

Harry nodded. "Okay, thanks. You two, er, you two stay safe, all right? Go on now."

He waved them away and waited for them to get far enough from the cell before Harry left it himself. He started making his way down the stairs and through the block, tucking his mouth into his shoulder any time he passed someone. He was about to enter the tombs when Sirius called his name from behind.

He turned around and saw his godfather heading toward him from outside. Like with Lizzie and Mika, Harry held up a hand and started to say, "Keep back. I could be si—"

He stopped when he saw Sirius with a bubble around his head, mentally slapping himself. It was the second situation where Harry felt stupid for not applying the simple solution of the Bubble Head charm.

"Hey…" Sirius said somewhat breathlessly as he reached Harry. "How you feeling?"

Harry looked away. "I'm fine." He could feel Sirius' eyes roaming over him, scrutinizing. "I was going to go see Zach. He's in quarantine."

"Yeah, I know," Sirius said heavily, running a hand through his hair.

Harry looked at him. "How'd you know?"

"I was at the Council meeting. We all heard Zach coughing in the hallway."

"So what's…what's the plan?" Harry asked. He waved a vague hand around. "For all the sickness stuff."

"Anyone who shows symptoms, like Zach, and Lizzie and Mika's dad, gets quarantined. Dr. S. and Hershel will attend to them. That's about it for now."

Harry nodded, trying to gather words. Sirius looked unusually awkward in front of him, stiff. Now it was his turn to look away.

"Listen, I'm—"

"Cast a Bubble Head charm on yourself," Sirius interrupted. "If you're sick, it'll keep anyone else around you safer. If you're not and Zach is, it'll keep you safer."

Sirius put a hand on top of Harry's head briefly and then walked away, still avoiding eye contact. The guilt came back with a vengeance, but Harry put it aside momentarily to focus on Zach, casting a Bubble Head charm on himself as he made his way through the tombs. He remembered that Zach had checked up on Patrick last night. Maybe he'd caught the illness then?

He reached the two cells that Zach and Ryan were staying in. He reached Ryan's first and stopped, looking through the bars to take a close look at him. Ryan was lying on his back with his forearm laid out over his face, coughing. From several feet away, Harry could see how sweaty he was. He moved his arm and opened his eyes, looking around, and spotted Harry.

"Hey, how are my girls?" Ryan asked, lifting his head off the pillow and coughing some more.

"They're good," Harry said. "Mika knows you're lying about it being a cold."

To Harry's surprise, Ryan smiled. "She's young, and kinder than anyone in this world deserves, but she's always been a sharp one. Will you do me a favor and make sure they—" he coughed, sitting up more, "Will you make sure they come see me before bed so I can wish them good night? And put those bubble things on 'em?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Thanks, Harry. And thanks for saving me so that I can keep being there for my girls. It means—" more coughing, "it means everything."

Harry looked down at his shoes, feeling awkward. "I…yeah, you're…you're welcome."

He tried to offer Ryan a reassuring smile before moving over to Zach's cell. He was somewhat pleased to see that his friend appeared to be faring better than Ryan. Zach was sitting in the middle of his bed, leaning back against the wall. He looked sweaty, but had more color to his skin than Ryan did. He uttered a quiet cough that sounded dryer than Ryan's too.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked.

Zach tilted his head to one side in a sort of half shrug. "I don't feel like participating in a triathlon any time soon…but I've also had hangovers that felt worse than this."

Harry grinned. "That's good to hear."

Zach's smile gradually turned downward. "How about you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I still feel fine. I wanted to say…it was good of you to look in on Patrick last night. I know you feel like it wasn't enough, but you did more to help him than any of us did."

"Nah…It wasn't enough, but…thanks anyway." Zach released a few coughs. "You're the real hero around here."

"Don't."

"You saved my ass, you saved almost everyone in block D."

Harry shook his head, irritated. "Zach—"

"I know, I know, you don't like being told that. I guess you—" Zach coughed again, "I guess you'll have to stop saving people if you don't want to hear it anymore." He grinned at Harry knowingly.

Harry pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose. "You're lucky you're sick or I'd hit you with a Jelly Legs jinx."

"A what?"

"What's it sound like? It makes your legs like jelly so you can't stand still."

"Well that's…messed up." Zach closed his eyes and sighed. "Beth's not showing any signs of sickness, is she?"

"I haven't seen her," Harry replied.

"Check on her for me?"

Harry leaned his hand on one of the bars of the cell and drummed his fingers absently along the metal. "Yeah, sure."

"Thanks." Zach then put his hands on his cheeks and fluttered his eyelashes in a mockingly smitten way, saying, "You're my hero, Harry," in a high-pitched voice.

Harry rolled his eyes but smirked. "Shut up, you git."

---

"Carl?"

Carl looked up from his comic to see his dad standing in his doorway. "Hm?"

"I, uh…" Rick looked down at the floor before bringing his gaze back to Carl. "I need to talk to you a sec."

"Okay…" Carl said slowly, sitting up and furrowing his brow at his father. He just noticed that there was some kind of bubble around his head. "What's—?"

"Something Sirius did," Rick supplied. "It's a bubble that provides clean air. He figured it might help keep this thing from spreading."

Carl perked up at that. "That's awesome," he said with a shaky laugh.

"Don't get too excited. Hershel still thinks it can spread by touch, so we should still stay away from each other when possible."

"Okay. Well, what'd you want to talk about?"

Rick held his eye contact in a way that told Carl he was about to give bad news. "We gotta kill the pigs."

Carl looked down at the comic in his lap and fiddled with it, nodding. He wasn't surprised. That didn't stop him from being displeased. "Think the pigs made 'em sick?"

"Or we made the pigs sick. Either way, they're carriers, and it's not safe to keep them around anymore. Violet already died. The rest of 'em probably got it too. We need to minimize the risk of infection as much as possible."

Carl nodded again, his jaw set as he mentally compartmentalized. "What do you need me to do?"

Rick took a few steps closer like he wanted to sit down next to Carl, but he stopped, seeming to remember he was trying to keep his distance. "I don't want you to worry about it. Sirius said he'll do it with magic. That way it'll be humane and no one has to touch them. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks. I think that's the right call."

"I'm glad. I also think we ought to stay away from Judy for a while, just in case."

"Okay."

"I don't like it, but—"

"We have to protect her," Carl firmly agreed.

His dad looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Yes, we do."

Rick turned to leave and Carl bit his lip as he hesitated. He was done thinking, though. It was time to make his decision. "Dad?" Rick turned back around. Carl sighed, steeling himself. "Carol's been…teaching the kids how to use weapons…how to kill. Their parents don't know, and she doesn't want you to know." He watched as his dad's eyes hardened, roaming around the cell absently as he collected himself. Before Rick's frustration could build too much, Carl concluded, "I think you should let her. I know you're gonna say it's not up to you, but it can be."

Carl waited as Rick mulled things over. He could see the stress and weariness in his father's eyes, knowing today had been a catalyst for Rick to return to his natural leadership role. Carl considered bringing up Carol's theory that bad wizards could potentially come after Harry and Sirius, and everyone else at the prison by extension. It wasn't something he really believed would happen, though, and with so many other things settling on Rick's shoulders already, Carl didn't want to add one more thing if it wasn't necessary.

"Thank you for telling me," Rick finally said. "I won't stop her. I won't say anything."

Carl nodded in approval. A wave of relief rushed through him. He had been honest with his father while also ensuring that Carol's lessons could continue. It felt like a weight was being lifted. He picked up his comic and leaned back to resume reading it, thinking Rick was finished.

"Carl?"

Rick still lingered in the doorway, still watched Carl with that pensive expression. Carl waited, confused. And then, his dad reached behind his back and pulled something wrapped in a cloth from the hem of his jeans.

"I got this out for you a little while ago." Rick unwrapped the object to reveal Carl's gun. "Been debating the last few hours if it's time I gave it back to you or not after the attack." He walked over to Carl's bed as Carl sat up and slid his legs over the edge. Rick stood in front of him, looking down at the gun. "You've shown me you're ready."

He held out the gun for Carl, who was speechless as he slowly took it from Rick's hand. His dad trusted him again. He could protect people again. There was a strange sort of triumph flowing through Carl as he held his gun. Yet, that triumph was also mingled with a heavy caution, a sense of warning.

You can't lose yourself again.

---

Harry found Beth in her cell with Judith. She was sitting on her bed smiling down at the baby she was holding, bouncing her a little, her smile growing broader as Judith giggled at the bouncing. Harry couldn't help thinking how pretty her smile was…how, with everything going on and her boyfriend quarantined, she was able to be so lighthearted and find joy.

Her boyfriend.

Harry shook off the guilt as he remembered why he was here in the first place. "Hey…"

Beth looked up, her smile not fading at the sight of him. "Hey, Harry…you doing okay?"

As tired as Harry was of people asking him that, he found he didn't mind so much when it was Beth. "Yeah, brilliant. What about you?"

"Beth looked back at Judith. "I'm all right. I feel bad. Rick wants to keep him and Carl away from Judith since my dad said she's one of the most vulnerable. I'm a little worried, though, since I was around Zach and he's sick."

"I have something that might help," Harry said, entering the cell and pointing at the bubble around his head. "I'll put one of these around you and Judith. That way you'll each at least be breathing clean air."

Beth's eyes lit up. "That's amazing!"

Harry felt his face get warm as he kneeled in front of Beth and the baby. He cast the Bubble Head charm on Beth, whose eyes were slowly rolling in a circle as she tried to look at the bubble, mouth open in astonishment. Harry then cast the charm on Judith. However, it only took about ten seconds before Judith tried to bring a hand up to her mouth and popped the bubble. Harry and Beth both laughed.

"Well…you'll still be able to make sure you don't breathe any germs on her, at least," Harry said. "Just come find me or Sirius when you pop it and are ready for a new one."

"Thanks, Harry."

"No problem." Harry could feel the corners of his mouth pulling upward, seemingly of their own accord. He stood and cleared his throat. "Zach wanted me to check on you. I think he's worried he passed it on to you as well."

"Oh, yeah, I'm still feelin' fine. I should probably avoid visiting him, though, if I'm gonna be in charge of Judith the next day or two. Would you mind telling him? Sorry to make you our messenger."

"No, it's all right. I don't have much else to do since I'm supposed to be avoiding people." He took a few steps away. "That should probably include you. Even with the bubble, I still…"

His mouth went dry as the image of Walker Patrick coming at him and knocking him to the ground came into his head. He licked his lips. "I mean, just…since I was…in there."

Beth frowned at him sympathetically. "We really are lucky to have you around, you know. I know you don't like all the compliments, but I think we all just…" she shrugged. "We appreciate you."

Harry looked around, frustrated. He was both elated by Beth's words and embarrassed that everyone was treating him like some kind of messiah. He was just trying to do the right thing. If the rest of them were able to do magic, they'd do the same.

"Well…I'll head back to see Zach later and let him know you're good." He turned and left quickly, before anything could get more uncomfortable.

He returned to his cell for the rest of the day other than to get food, trying to entertain himself with books he and Sirius had found. As word of the Bubble Head charm spread, people frequently popped by the cell to ask him to cast it on them. Sirius was gone for another few hours, helping pick up some of the slack around the prison with so many people out of commission in isolation. When he did come back, he heaved a tired sigh, took off his shoes, and then collapsed onto his bed.

The cell stayed quiet for a bit, Harry trying to decide if he should say anything or not, having been thinking about how to apologize all day. He wasn't sure what all Sirius had to do, but he knew some of it was…unpleasant, to say the least. He didn't want to add more strain when Sirius was undoubtedly exhausted. Assuaging his own guilt could wait.

But Sirius spoke first anyway.

"You all right?" he asked hoarsely.

After everything Harry had said to him, Sirius was still putting him first. "Yeah…you?"

"Yeah."

They stayed silent for another moment before Sirius spoke again. "Uh, Carl wanted to make sure you knew that…that, uh, Patrick's glasses are with him."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden onslaught of emotion welling up inside him. He swallowed and forced himself to regain composure before replying. "That's, er…great. Thanks."

More silence. Harry worked up the nerve to be the first to break it this time. "Hey, I…I'm sorry for—"

"Nothing to apologize for, Harry. You'd just been through something…terrible. Since I wasn't there for the fight, the least I could do was be there for the aftermath."

"I wasn't really mad at you for not being there. I went looking for you last night to make sure you were okay before going to bed. Found you and Michonne asleep in the tombs. I could've woken you, but thought the two of you looked…peaceful. I was happy for you."

"Harry, that's…" Sirius sounded gruff. "Thank you…I hope you know, if I'd had any inkling that something like that could happen, there's no way I would have left you alone."

"Yeah, I know."

"I promise I did look in on you before going outside to see Michonne off. I had to have been out there for maybe half an hour before we heard the gunshots."

"I'm not a child. I don't need you babysitting me."

"It's not about babysitting you. We're in a different world with different threats than ours. And you've already had to fight so many battles by yourself in our own world. This was one I could have been with you for."

"We fought together on both of the supply runs. It just happened to be that this attack had to have actual…casualties. And I…I made my choice to go off on my own."

Silence. Then Sirius said, "Can you just…can you promise me you won't do that anymore? Go off on your own?"

Honestly, Harry knew that was a promise he could never keep. If he encountered a situation where it was either he went solo or left others in danger, the former was always going to win. The least he could do, though, was ease Sirius' mind for now.

"I…I promise that I'll try," he compromised.

Sirius chuckled. "So that's a no."

Harry didn't know what else to say, but his godfather didn't press the matter. He decided to take the opportunity to change the subject.

"So where was Michonne going?"

"After that Governor asshole," Sirius growled. "Says she can't sleep knowing he's out there."

"She's a good fighter," Harry said, trying to sound reassuring. "She'll be okay."

"I don't doubt her. She's told me the horrible stuff this guy has done, though. You know as well as I do that no matter how strong or smart you are, someone that touched in the head can still get one over on you."

"Yeah…" Harry did know that. "At least she won't get sick, I guess. Hang on…you don't feel sick at all, do you? I was close to you when I hugged you, and I don't know if you've been around…well…bodies and stuff today."

"I'm as healthy as a hippogriff," Sirius replied confidently. Then, more somber, he added, "And I was careful around the bodies. And with the pigs."

"Pigs?"

"Ah…I thought you knew…we had to slaughter them."

Harry noticed the subtle shake in Sirius' voice. "Because they might have been the source of the flu?"

"Yeah…I made sure it was painless. Stunned them so they were unconscious and then slashed their throats. Then levitated the bodies out to the woods. More Walkers have come around. The pig bodies will help keep them away from the fences for at least a little bit."

"That sounds…awful," Harry said.

"It was just different than hunting. Pigs are more intelligent than the animals in the woods. And when I kill turkeys and squirrels and things as a dog, my hunting instinct sort of takes over. I wasn't about to transform and sink my teeth into the probably infected pigs. Plus I know the animals I kill hunting are being used for food. Killing the pigs without eating them just felt…cold."

Harry tried to think of something comforting to say, not coming up with much. He tried to think of things from his godfather's perspective, his godfather who was known for murdering several people when he hadn't, his godfather who had left Azkaban with a lot of damage that showed up in various forms. "You're not cold, Sirius. You know that, right?"

Silence again. Then, quietly, Sirius replied, "I can be."

Before he could decide how to respond, Lizzie called Harry's name from the cell door. "Harry? Can you put those bubbles on us so we can say goodnight to our dad now?"

"Yeah, of course." Harry sat up, putting his own Bubble Head charm back on before meeting Lizzie and Mika out on the balcony. He cast the charm on the girls too, both of them gasping and giggling. "I'll walk you. I need to talk to Zach anyway."

They made their way through the tombs, Lizzie and Mika chattering about at least five different things before reaching the two quarantine cells. Harry thought that Ryan looked a little better than he had earlier, not quite so sweaty and pale. He seemed more alert as well, though Harry reasoned he could be making an effort to put up a strong show for his daughters.

Lizzie and Mika hurried over to his bedside and hugged him. Ryan hugged them both back and then gently motioned for them to back away as he started coughing. "You two really shouldn't be touching me."

"We have bubbles, Dad!" Mika grinned.

"I know, sweetie, but I might still have germs on my hands and arms."

"Do you feel any better?" Lizzie asked.

Ryan gave a strained smile. "A little, honey. You two still feeling okay?"

"Yeah." Both girls nodded.

"Okay, well if that changes, make sure to tell Carol. She'll take care of you."

"She told us the same thing," said Lizzie.

"Good." Ryan nodded and then coughed again. "I also need you two to make sure you take care of each other while I'm in here. No fighting. Lizzie, you're the oldest. You need to make sure Mika is safe."

"I will," Lizzie said with clear determination.

They continued to talk, turning to more mundane things, Ryan trying to make the girls laugh. Harry moved over to Zach's cell to see that his friend didn't look any better or worse than earlier.

"Beth said she's good," Harry said. "She doesn't think she should visit you. She's in charge of Judith and can't risk getting her sick."

"That's fine," Zach agreed. "I wouldn't want her to endanger Judith."

"Have you noticed any changes?"

Zach shook his head. "I'm a little warm, cough is still mild, kind of tired and achy. Patrick looked totally miserable last night. He'd thrown up a couple times and he was sweating so much. I'm nowhere near his level of sick."

"Good."

Zach sat up straighter on his bed, grinning. "I told Beth I love her."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Oh! Er…what did she say?"

"She said it back. I think you were right, that she was trying not to show she cared too much. When we came back from the Big Spot, she was more…vulnerable with me."

"That's…that's great," Harry said as happily as he could even though he was suddenly sick to his stomach.

"Yeah. I'm pretty—" Zach yawned, "pretty stoked."

"Well…you seem pretty tired. I'll head back so you can sleep."

"All right. Thanks for everything, Harry."

Harry turned away and clenched his teeth. "No problem."

He stopped at Ryan's cell to check on Lizzie and Mika. Ryan looked up at the sight of him and then looked back at his daughters.

"Okay, girls, I want you both to head to bed now," Ryan said. "I don't think you should visit me until I'm better, all right?"

"But, Dad—" Lizzie argued.

"No 'buts.' If I get either of you sick I'll never forgive myself. I'm sure you can have Harry or someone give me any updates instead?"

Ryan looked back at Harry questioningly and Harry nodded. "Definitely."

"Great, thank you." Ryan coughed and looked back at Lizzie and Mika. "Remember, stay out of trouble, stay safe, and listen to the adults. Hopefully I'll be over this in the next couple days, okay?"

"Okay," Lizzie and Mika both echoed in disappointed mumbles.

"Hey…both of you are strong. You've got this. Love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

Harry waited for the girls to exit the cell so that he could walk them back. The urge to put comforting hands on their shoulders the way Sirius so often did for him hit hard. If he wasn't risking getting them sick, he probably would have given in to it.

---

Sirius was used to long days. His time in Azkaban was nothing but long days. Being confined to Grimmauld Place was full of long days. Yet, he could still say that this day was one of the longest days he'd had in a while.

He had hated slaughtering the pigs. There had been times he had transformed and been nearby the pig pen in his dog form, and he could sense what they were feeling. It was similar to when he'd befriended Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, and enlisted his help to capture and kill Peter. They couldn't communicate with direct words. It was more so senses and body language. As a dog, Sirius had been able to smell when the pigs were calm, happy, hungry, agitated, scared…He hadn't tried to communicate with them like Crookshanks, knowing they were going to be his food at some point, but he still knew they were more complex than people thought.

After Michonne had left, and he'd learned Harry was in danger, and Harry had raged at him, and he'd helped bury bodies, Sirius had grown increasingly hollow and heavy. After leaving the pig bodies in the woods on top of all those things, he returned to the prison feeling like he'd been drained dry.

He'd appreciated Harry's apology even though he wasn't upset or angry with him anyway. He really had just needed reassurance that Harry wasn't truly angry with him. Daryl was right that Sirius couldn't be there all the time, and Harry was right that he was a highly capable young adult who didn't need him around all the time. When Harry had failed to promise not to go off on his own anymore, Sirius hadn't been surprised. He had already decided he was going to put more effort into making sure Harry valued his own life enough to take fewer risks. There wasn't anything else he could do about it tonight, especially when they were both exhausted and full of grief.

Harry returned from seeing Zach and Ryan with Lizzie and Mika. After he changed clothes, Sirius got out of bed and stood in front of him before Harry could lie down. Harry still had his Bubble Charm in place, so Sirius wasn't worried about passing anything to his godson.

"You shouldn't be so close to me," Harry said. "I was already too close to you earlier."

Sirius surveyed his godson, noting the paleness of his skin, the dullness behind his eyes. He lifted a hand to put on his shoulder, but then withdrew it. "I just want to make sure you know…how proud of you I am. Okay?"

Harry looked away. "Thanks."

"I mean it. I know today was terrible, but you handled it courageously. And selflessly. You went through all that and then still made sure you were there for Zach, Ryan, Lizzie, and Mika."

The corners of Harry's mouth lifted ever so slightly, and Sirius could read that his words had a positive impact on his godson. They both went to bed, both of them crashing quickly and spending the night taking turns waking up from nightmares. The worst one Sirius had left him unable to return to sleep. In it, he was in a field full of several graves. The graves had all been dug and the bodies dropped inside, but they had yet to be filled. Sirius dashed from grave to grave trying to bury each one before someone in one of the other graves turned and started to rise as a Walker. He dashed from Patrick to James, to Remus, to Lily, to Harry, to Daryl, to Michonne, to Zach, to Judith, to Carl, to Rick, to Lizzie, to Mika, to Dumbledore, to Mad-Eye, to Glenn, to Maggie, to Ron, to Hermione, to Hershel…he went from body to body, burying and then putting them down as they reanimated. And then, when Sirius was at his breaking point, standing in the center of the field with all the graves surrounding him, collapsing to his knees, a pack of pigs charged toward him from the woods and surrounded him. Their eyes were misted over like the Walkers' were and they were squealing at him increasingly loudly until he startled himself awake, soaked in sweat, breathing heavily.

Sirius looked at Harry's bed and felt marginally better seeing that his godson was asleep and, currently, peacefully. He knew he wasn't going back to sleep any time soon, so he dressed and left the cell, not sure where he wanted to go, but knowing he at least needed to be moving.

A few other people were up and moving as well, but everyone kept their distance from each other. Some of them came up to Sirius and asked for a Bubble Head charm. He adhered to their requests without uttering any words other than the incantation and kept walking. He tried going outside, but then started to have trouble breathing when he could see the real graves off in the distance. He hurried back inside the cell block, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it, panting and clutching his chest.

At that point, Sirius wandered to the cafeteria, grateful to find it empty. He paced slowly, trying to think of good things. Harry was alive. The illness was identified and being handled. Most of the people he had imagined being dead in his dreams were alive, at least as far as he knew for the ones from his world. He just kept moving and kept repeating these facts to himself. He focused on things like Michonne and how amazing she was and how lucky he was that she was interested in him. As long as he kept moving, he would be okay.

Sirius wasn't sure how long he stayed in the cafeteria before finding himself wandering back to the main cell block, significantly calmer than before. He thought he'd return to his cell and try reading for a while. Before he could get there, however, he was intercepted by Lizzie and Mika.

"Sirius, can you help us?" Mika asked.

Immediately worried, Sirius crouched down closer to their level. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. We just hoped you could do us a favor."

"Oh…yeah, sure. Anything for you lovely ladies."

Lizzie held out a folded piece of purple construction paper for him to take. "We made our dad a card. He doesn't want us visiting him, though. In case we get sick. Could you take it to him? You can read it if you want."

Sirius took the card and stood back up. A multi-colored bouquet of flowers had been, quite skillfully, drawn in markers on the front. He couldn't help smiling as a surge of warmth flowed over him, like eating chocolate after encountering a Dementor.

"Absolutely," Sirius said.

"Thanks," Lizzie said. "And...since you weren't in there for the attack, is it okay if we hug you? Since we can't hug our dad?"

Something in Sirius' heart softened in a way that made him feel incredibly fragile. He cleared his throat before gruffly replying, "Yeah, sure."

He crouched back down and opened his arms. Lizzie took the space under his right arm while Mika went under his left. He held them both close and shut his eyes, grateful these kids weren't in graves and reanimating like they did in his dream.

After releasing them, he stood and looked back at the card in his hand. "I'll take this to him right away."

"Thank you," Mika smiled sweetly.

Sirius winked at her and headed toward the tombs with the card, finding himself in much better spirits since he woke. Now that Lizzie and Mika weren't right in front of him, he felt comfortable opening the card to read the inside, the contents leaving him grinning, more hopeful than he'd felt in twenty-four hours.

He strode over to Ryan's cell, opening his mouth to greet him. When he reached the cell, however, he stood there, confused.

No one was in the bed, though its sheets were dotted with blood, a trail of which led from the bed, through the cell, to out in the hallway where Sirius stood.

No…

He slowly moved along the blood trail over to Zach's cell and peered inside, only to be greeted with a sight similar to Ryan's cell. There were two trails of blood along the hallway floor, and Sirius followed them apprehensively as they merged into one large trail, his footsteps slow and cautious. He drew his wand, holding it in one hand and the card in the other. The blood led to a door that went out to what Sirius knew was a small, enclosed area outside, designated for simple situations like smoking or getting fresh air. The acrid smell of something burnt assaulted his nostrils, making him grimace. Sirius lifted the hand holding the card before the door's handle, his other hand raising his wand. He stood there with his hand hovering for a moment and swallowed, bracing himself for what was on the other side of the door.

He didn't want to open it. Yet he was also desperate for an answer.

Gritting his teeth, Sirius gripped the handle and turned, pulling the door open and shuffling onto the threshold at an angle, wand ready, glancing around for threats. The smell hit him even harder and sent a wave of nausea through him. When no one and nothing came at him, he lowered his wand slightly and looked back at the ground. He followed the trail of blood across the enclosure, unaware that his mouth was hanging open in trepidation.

When he spotted it, Sirius froze, feeling paralyzed.

Two bodies, burnt to crisp, ash skeletons, lay before him, smoke still rising from their bones. A gas can sat nearby, not even hidden. They had been burnt pretty recently, within the last six or seven hours. Sirius crouched down, his hands and jaw trembling. He scanned the body—or what remained of it—to his left, and tried to find something to identify it. There was a necklace that Sirius had seen Beth wear up until recently. The body couldn't be hers, though. He had just walked by her cell fifteen minutes ago to see that she was asleep, Judith in a crib next to her.

Zach…

Sirius closed his eyes, one hand clenching around his wand and the other clenching around the card, crunching the paper together. He growled in the back of his throat and forced his eyes open to inspect the body to his right, knowing what he was about to find but knowing he needed confirmation. He looked over the ash carefully until he spotted the frayed corner of a photograph on the chest, where a shirt pocket had probably been. He reached his shaking hand toward it and picked it up, blowing the ash off of it. It wasn't the whole photo. About three quarters of it had been burnt completely. What remained, however, was the top left corner and part of the center of the photo. As dirty and smudged as it was, there was no mistaking Lizzie's smiling face beneath the ash. Sirius could only assume Mika's face had taken up the rest of the photo.

Ryan…

Sirius went from crouching to sitting on the ground, dropping both his wand on one side and the card on the other as he choked out a single, solitary sob.

The crumpled card fell on the ground, falling open. Inside, three doodles were drawn, two girls on either side of a tall man with a cape, all holding hands. Beneath, in red marker, the card read, "Dear Dad, get better soon! You're the strong one. Love, Lizzie and Mika."

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Author's note: Please don't hate me.

In case you didn't know by now, our four core characters are going to go through a loooot of shit. BUT I do promise there's a happy ending that I think will make it all worthwhile.

Also, I couldn't resist having CAPS LOCK Harry make an appearance.