"But the monsters turned out to be just trees

When the sun came up, you were looking at me…

Are we out of the woods yet?"

Out of the Woods, T.S.

Mila

The sun in my eyes woke me the next morning, and I squinted as I tried to get my bearings. Why am I in a car? Oh… right. Sophia. The highway. Memories of yesterday came rushing back like a tidal wave. I sat up and only then, noticed the dark mass that was still sprawled out next to me.

"Good morning, Raven," I stroked her head, and she lazily wagged her tail in reply. "I wonder what time it is."

A thin layer of frost coated the windows and the sun was still pale, making me think it was a little after dawn. I popped the back of the hatchback, jumping out to stretch my legs as Raven did the same, before grabbing my knife and heading down to the grass. I found a somewhat secluded area where we both relieved ourselves, each keeping watch for the other. I took a lap around the highway, giving Dale a wave as he kept watch from the RV, and looking for any cars we hadn't searched yet. I quietly walked down the rows, briefly catching a glimpse of Glenn stretched out in the back of a van, and watched the sun rise.

"You're up early."

I turned to find Rick sitting on the roof of a truck, doing the same. He gave a curious look down at Raven.

"And who's this?"

She sat and cocked her head at him.

"This is Raven. I found her last night in the woods. Look, I know you might not want her to stay but she's a really good dog and I feel like I was meant to find her, plus maybe-"

Rick held up a hand and stifled a smile at my rambling, and I snapped my mouth shut to wait for his reply.

"Does she bark?"

"Never. Didn't even know she was there most of the night."

"She aggressive? Gonna bite one of the kids?"

"I really don't think so, she's been nothing but sweet to me."

Currently, there was only one kid but I didn't correct him. He looked at her, considering his options before sighing.

"We can't be giving her food, there's hardly enough for us."

I was nodding enthusiastically before he could even finish.

"She survived this long so I think she can handle that herself," I addressed her now, "Did you hear that? The boss says you can stay!" She excitedly jumped up to lick my face and Rick laughed.

"You like dogs?" I asked, as she perched between my legs and leaned into me.

"Yeah, I do. We always talked about getting one but it just never seemed to be the right time." Rick hopped down from the hood and kneeled in front of Raven, extending his hand to allow her to gently sniff. She cautiously ventured forward before rubbing her head on it– clearly a sign of a burgeoning friendship. Rick laughed again, "Plus, I think she'll be good for morale around here."

I couldn't disagree with that. We just lived through probably the most stressful, depressing 24 hours of my life– barring day one of the outbreak and when I lost Aly. They all lived in the same number one spot on the list of 'days I'd never like to relive.'

"I hope so. She's already helped me a lot. I think last night was the first full night of sleep I've gotten since this shitshow started."

Besides the night before with Daryl. I looked down and realized I was still wearing his flannel– pushing away the lurch of my heart and thoughts that maybe having his scent all over me was a factor in why I slept so well. If Rick noticed whose shirt I was wearing, he didn't say anything.

"We best get going to go look for Sophia. Think I'll go round up the troops. Are you coming?" Raven flopped over on her back, pressuring him to stay.

"I'm not sure… T-Dog got cut pretty bad yesterday. I want to go, don't get me wrong, but I worry about leaving him here. He's at a high risk for infection."

"Sounds like you know you need to stay," he agreed, looking at me with genuine care. "That's okay. You can't be everywhere at once." But I want to be. "We've got this."

With a final pat to Raven's belly, he stood and walked off. Raven jumped up and sat at my heel. It was still early and I was already dreading the anxiety that would be drowning me until they got back. I rolled my shoulders back and headed toward where I last saw T-Dog– if hospital work taught me anything, it was that even the shittiest shift would go by quickly if you stayed busy.

When I approached his window, I could see him still sleeping across the backseat– legs up on the center console. Poor guy. I'll give him the hatchback tonight. Not wanting to startle him, I refrained from making any noise and settled for counting his breaths through the glass. I didn't have a watch to be exact, but I'd gotten pretty good at estimating 60 seconds over the years. His interval was regular and not too fast, which would've been a sign of a fever. Satisfied, I left him to rest up and kept going to where the remainder of the group was now congregating.

"The plan is to spread out along the creek– but stay within sight of each other and stay sharp," Rick directed before turning to Dale. "Keep an eye on Carl."

"I'm going with you!" Carl interjected. "You need people, right? To cover as much ground as possible?"

I bit my lip as Rick and Lori duked it out. I didn't like the idea of Carl out there but it wasn't my call. I just didn't want to lose another kid in the woods. As they went back and forth, I glanced over at Daryl– who was silent, as usual, when surrounded by overt leaders. His focus was on a map, gently tracing a finger down what I presumed was the creek. Off to the side, Andrea and Dale were in a heated discussion that I only just caught the end of.

"Gratitude?! I wanted to die my way, not torn apart by drooling freaks. That was my choice. You took that away from me, Dale." Her tone was harsh, even as tears ran down her face.

"But-"

"But you know better? All I wanted after my sister died was to get out of this endless horrific nightmare we live every day. I wasn't hurting anyone else. You took my choice away, Dale. And you expect gratitude?"

I get it. Once I know Aly is gone, I'll be next. Happily.

"I don't know what to say."

"I'm not your little girl. I'm not your wife. And I am sure as hell not your problem. That's all there is to say."

I winced. He had been acting out of a place of love, but it'll never go down well to make such an important choice for someone else. Even Jenner opened up the gate in the name of autonomy. Andrea stomped off, leaving Dale to stand there, frozen. I met Daryl's eye a few feet away, giving him an eyebrow raise as if to say yikes before stepping in front of him. The group had mostly thinned out to refill their water bottles and gather supplies before leaving.

"Mornin'." His voice was deep and gravelly, still acclimating to being awake, and the sound filled me with an embarrassing amount of pleasure.

"Morning." Raven sniffed around on the ground, following an invisible trail. Daryl's gaze lowered to briefly look at his shirt hanging off my shoulders before jumping back up to my eyes as he cleared his throat. "Oh! You probably want this back." I moved to start undoing the buttons, but he stopped me.

"Nah, it's still cold. Plus, I won't need it out there."

I flushed, feeling awkward. Why did this feel so weird? Am I making this uncomfortable?

"Thank you. Again. Between this shirt and Raven, I think I had the best sleep of my life." Shit. Does that make it even weirder? I internally facepalmed. He looked back at the map but nodded.

"I know. I saw ya."

"You… saw me?" When? I hadn't seen him.

"Was keepin' watch for a while and saw you knocked out in the back. Glad you finally got some sleep." Did I hear some disappointment in his voice or was I creating that, wanting him to be let down that I didn't need him to sleep anymore? "Looked like Raven was keepin' you warm, too."

I smiled, looking over at her as she chased a bird before letting it get away.

"Rick was shockingly on board with her staying." Daryl grunted, making me squint at him playfully. "She'll grow on you too, if you let her." He folded up the map and started walking away.

"I wouldn't bet on it."

"I'm sure you thought the same thing about me!" I shouted after his back, playful and teasing. He didn't turn around but I could tell from the drop of his head that he was smiling too.

—-

Daryl

We left home base early with me leading the ones who volunteered to go through the woods. Andrea's still bitching about not having her gun, Shane seems to be taking out whatever issue he has on Lori out on Carl, Glenn jumps at his own shadow, Rick is in his stupid sheriff's uniform– as if that title means jack shit anymore. Carol and Lori are here too, but at least they're staying quiet and out of the way. In between the chatter, my mind drifts to Mila and how she looked damn good wearing my shirt this morning. Almost good enough to make me wonder how it'd feel to see her waking up in it and knowing it's not just 'cause she was cold. Which is stupid, 'cause it ain't gonna happen.

We'd found a tent with some guy who had opted out, which bugged me because every time the subject comes up, I think of her and it makes me sick. Part of me understands– it's not exactly like we're living the high life now. The other part of me is used to living through tough shit and doesn't see how this is that much different than how life was before. Maybe she had a golden spoon lifestyle prior to all this, which would make the new world jarring– her survival skills, or lack of, points to that anyway. But the songs she wrote and the way she speaks make me think that's not the case.

Now here we are, chasing after church bells to see if Sophia somehow managed to find a church and break her way in and ring them in the hopes we'd find her. It seemed like a lot of ifs, but we had no other leads to go off of. Disappointment hung heavy in the air when we discovered they were set up on a timer, although Shane and Lori still found time for a lovers spat that Rick somehow managed to miss. Andrea trailing behind, not wasting any time in trying to pick up Lori's sloppy seconds, desperate to get away from Dale's suffocating presence. The kid and I seem to be the only ones focused on the task at hand here.

"Daryl, you're in charge. Ya'll are gonna follow the creek bed back. Rick and I are gonna hang here, search more ground." Despite his words, Shane didn't look like he agreed with the plan he was dictating. Must've come from Rick.

"You're splittin' us up? You sure?" I verified, mainly asking Rick, but Shane answered again.

"Yeah, we'll catch up to you."

"I want to stay, too. I'm her friend," Carl spoke up and surprisingly, Lori allowed it. Rick tried to pass Lori his gun, but she declined.

"I'm not taking your only gun."

I felt the weight of the gun I'd lifted from the tent in the waistband of my pants and offered it to her.

"I've got a spare, take it."

Lori wrapped her hand around the grip, causing Andrea to scoff. I rolled my eyes, ready to hear another hour of bitching about it. I hadn't ever seen Andrea even shoot a gun, but all of a sudden, it's all she can talk about. I stalked off before I had to hear it, the others following closely behind. Carol caught up to me.

"So, this is it? This the whole plan?" She sat on a fallen log, discouraged.

"I guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller and smaller groups," I replied, feeling disgruntled with the lack of organization. If we hadn't all gone out together just to pointlessly split up, I could've covered more ground alone.

"Carrying knives and pointy sticks. I see you have a gun," Andrea snidely remarks to Lori, who doesn't hesitate to call her on it.

"Why, you want it? Here, take it. I'm sick of the looks you're giving me." Lori drops her gun into Andrea's hand as Andrea has the audacity to look shocked. "All of you." To Carol, "Honey, I can't imagine what you're going through. And I would do anything to stop it. But you have got to stop blaming Rick. It is in your face every time you look at him. When Sophia ran he didn't hesitate, did he? Neither did Mila. Not for a second. I don't know that anybody could have done it any differently. Anybody?" She looked around at a mostly contrite group. "Y'all look to him and then you blame him when he's not perfect. If you think you can do this without him, go right ahead. Nobody is stopping you."

Lori took a sip of water and huffed, apparently reaching her max for drama for the day. I raised my eyebrows– confused about how someone so loyal to their husband could have gone and fucked his best friend a week after his supposed death. It's not my business and I don't much care what she does, but it's interesting that this is the same person. Andrea hands Lori back the gun.

"We should keep moving."

Shit, to Andrea, that was as good as an apology. Straight out of the Dixon handbook. At least that little speech managed to air everything out enough for the rest of them to feel ready to keep going. We were losing daylight and had better shit to do than bicker. Just when we were getting a good pace going, a gunshot cracked through the air. Far, but not far enough. We paused, looking at each other to acknowledge what we heard, before I pushed us on. When we split up, we made an understood agreement to let each group handle themselves. Lori apparently wasn't aware of that.

"It was a gunshot."

"We all heard it," was all I said back, tired and ready to not be responsible for these people anymore. They needed too much damn hand holding.

"Why only one?"

"Maybe they shot a walker."

I knew I was bullshitting her, but speculating wasn't going to help and she wasn't gonna drop it.

"Don't patronize me– you know Rick wouldn't risk a gunshot to put down one walker. Or Shane. They'd do it quietly."

"Shouldn't they have caught up to us by now?" Carol asked. I clenched my teeth, calculating how much more this whole conversation would put us behind on time we could be using to find Sophia.

"There's nothing we can do about it anyway. Can't run around these woods chasing echoes." Church bells, gun shots. What's next? At this rate, we'd be sleeping out here.

"So, what do we do?" Lori asked, as if the decision was difficult to make. It wasn't.

"Same as we've been. Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back to the highway."

All I needed was for us to take too long getting back just to find Mila had left to search for us– and gotten her ass lost in the forest. I started walking away, trying to get everyone moving again.

"I'm sure they'll hook up with us back at the RV. I'm sorry for what you're going through. I know how you feel," Andrea says to Carol. I push aside the annoyance at her platitudes and the urge to ask her how the hell she knows how Carol feels.

"I suppose you do, thank you. The thought of her, out here by herself... It's the not knowing that's killing me. I just keep hoping and praying she doesn't wind up like Amy. Oh, God! That's the worst thing I ever said." I suppress my groan, both at the circumstances we're in and at the thought of something firing Andrea up again. She had just shut up about the gun. Andrea at least took it in stride.

"We're all hoping and praying for you, for what it's worth."

Enough. None of that will do as much as us actually looking for her, which is what we're supposed to be doing.

"I'll tell ya what it's worth– not a damn thing. It's a waste of time, all this hopin' and prayin'. We're gonna locate that little girl and she's gonna be just fine. Am I the only one zen around here? Good lord."

My outburst finally silenced them. For as worried as they are, they're sure happy to just stand around talking about it. This time, I took off without turning back. They'd follow me if they knew what was good for them– and for Sophia.

—-

Mila

Around an hour after everyone left, I decided to loop back on T-Dog to see if he was awake yet. I found him right where I left him, holding his injured arm and looking worse for the wear. Tense, sweaty, miserable. I knocked on the window and he opened the driver's door.

"T– how are you feeling?"

He gave a weak shake of his head, but didn't speak. I knelt down to meet him at eye level, Raven close on my heels.

"I'm gonna need you to talk to me. Otherwise, you know how I worry." I tried to make a joke, but I was mostly serious. Seeing him like this was already getting my heart rate up. If I couldn't make him better… The weight of the responsibility was crushing me already.

"It hurts real bad. Throbbing something awful." I squeezed his good hand in thanks for using his energy to speak.

"I'm gonna need to take a look, okay?" I waited for him to nod before moving to peel off the electrical tape that was holding the gauze in place. His veins were dark around the wound with an alarming amount of pus draining. My heart thrummed in my ears. It certainly looked infected… and what the fuck was I supposed to do out here? I missed my supplies, my medications, my team. I was nothing without them. Useless. I knew just enough to recognize the danger he was in, but powerless to do anything about it. I swallowed and put on a calming smile– at least, I hoped it was.

"It's looking a little infected. No need to panic yet, but I'm going to start rechecking the cars to see if I can find antibiotics and pain medicine for you. You hang tight, okay?" I rewrapped his dressing carefully as he nodded, trusting me. Which only made me feel worse. As we walked away, I muttered to Raven, "Any chance you're a drug sniffing dog?"

I swear, I've checked every car from the RV to 100 feet in either direction and I was still coming up empty. At least, for the drugs that mattered. Otherwise, I'd found a bottle of ibuprofen– expired, but beggars can't be choosers–, a pack of cigarettes, and some allergy medication. Sorry T-Dog, you may die of sepsis but at least you won't be sneezing when you do. Stressed and feeling trapped again, I ran a hand through my tangly hair and reveled in the pain when I got stuck on a knot. The sting of my scalp put my brain on mute and I needed the relief, even if it only lasted a minute.

Raven perked up from where she'd been sitting and stared off into the trees. I squinted, trying to see what she saw, and a minute later, some of our people were making their way back to the highway. I was disheartened as I noted the lack of a little girl with them– doubly so when I could finally make out their expressions.

"What's wrong? Where's everyone else?" I asked Glenn, the first to reach the embankment.

"Carl's been shot." Glenn looked like he'd seen a ghost. A lump caught in my throat. It was starting to feel like a very bad time to be a kid with us. I need to go help him.

"Shot? What do you mean, shot?" I didn't even realize Dale was behind me until I heard him. Glenn shot a confused look at Raven, but answered Dale's question.

"I don't know, Dale. I wasn't there. All I know is this chick rode out of nowhere like Zorro on a horse and took Lori."

"You let her?" Dale directed this at Daryl, disappointment evident in his tone.

"Climb down out of my asshole, man. Rick sent her. She knew Carl's name and Lori's."

Even though Daryl sounded like he was defending the decision, his tone said that she had gone against his judgment and he was still mad about it. Dale's attention was now on Andrea.

"I heard screams– was that you?"

Andrea walked by Dale without a wayward glance. Is this how it was going to be from now on? Camp felt small enough already without needing to walk on eggshells. Glenn answered for her.

"She got attacked by a walker. It was a close call."

Okay that sucks, but she's obviously fine– physically anyway. Carl may not be. Maybe I can help. I can't just stay here.

"I need to get to Carl."

Everyone looked at me now. I didn't mean for it to come out as intense as it sounded, but time was blood and blood was life.

"I can take ya," Daryl spoke up. "The girl on the horse gave us some directions. They were brief, but we should be able to find the farm."

"Wait…" I put a hand to my forehead as my brain finally caught up to my mouth. I didn't only have one patient, I had two. "T-Dog needs antibiotics. His wound is getting really infected and I'm worried about sepsis." Glenn, Dale, and Daryl looked at me blankly. "It's a blood infection, but it'll kill him if he goes much longer without treatment."

Daryl nodded and walked over to his motorcycle. He removed an oily rag from the top of it, throwing it back at Dale with a warning to keep them off his brother's bike, before retrieving a bag full of pharmaceuticals.

"Got my brother's stash. Crystal… X, don't need that-"

"We keep having weeks like this week and we might," I scoffed. His eyebrows raised at me but he continued.

"Got some kick ass painkillers and oxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither, it's first class. Merle got the clap on occasion."

He handed me the pill bottles as I fought the urge to correct him. Actually, it's 'doxycycline.' I rolled my eyes at the perfectionism that reared its ugly head at the worst times. There were bigger fish to fry. My brain was slow to run through our options as I tried to sift through the best course of action.

"Okay, I'll give T a dose now which will buy him a little time. Daryl, your bike can squeeze through all these cars so we can get to the farm the fastest. Are you willing to make two trips– first to take me and then to come back and pick up T? Maybe they'll have some supplies at the farm. The doxy is a start, but it's not the preferred antibiotic for this."

"Done."

Daryl hopped on his bike without a second thought. Raven whined as I went to climb on, reminding me she existed and was my new responsibility.

"Shit, the dog," I muttered to myself, as I moved my hands from Daryl's shoulders to around his waist, "Glenn! Watch my dog. Her name is Raven and she's very sweet. Raven, sit. Stay."

Raven did as she was told and I watched her get smaller and smaller before I couldn't see her at all. We drove down the highway until we found a mailbox labeled "Greene," which is the name Daryl thought he remembered the woman on the horse saying. As we pulled up, I was jumping off before he had even fully stopped.

"Fuck, hold on, Mila."

"I can't! Carl could be…"

I couldn't finish the sentence and swallowed the tears threatening to form. I could feel whatever I needed to after we were in the clear, but it did no good to make it hard to think now. I rapidly knocked on the front door. It looked to be in good enough condition, compared to the places I've seen, so I was reasonably sure this was the place. A young woman answered.

"Is Carl here?" My tone was more of a demand than a question, but we didn't have the luxury of manners.

"Did you close the gate when you came in?" She asked. I nodded, but continued.

"Look, we don't have time for this. I'm an ER nurse– I worked at a level one trauma center. I've seen gunshot wounds countless times. Please let me help him."

The woman nodded and unlocked the screen door, allowing Daryl and I to come in.

"I'm Maggie."

"Mila. That's Daryl."

We followed Maggie into another room, finding Rick giving blood and an older man bent over Carl's abdomen. He was so, so pale and sweaty. A blood pressure cuff was wrapped around his arm with a stethoscope, and I immediately went to it to assess. I put the tips in my ears and pumped the bulb before letting it slowly depress.

"78/36." Not good. Way too low. "We need an IV."

"I've never done one on a kid before," the older woman who was taking Rick's blood noted nervously.

"I have. I was a pediatric ER nurse. Maggie, can you hand me the supplies?"

Maggie quickly did as she was told and dropped a tourniquet in front of me. I placed it and cleaned Carl's inner arm, reminding me of the CDC when I had put a happy face on his bandaid to make him smile. That felt far away now despite only being two days ago. Carl was unconscious, so I didn't need someone to help hold his arm still for me. I easily slid the needle in, threaded the cannula, and connected the tubing before flushing it clean. I hooked up Rick's blood to Carl's IV and unclamped it.

"They're the same blood type?" I asked, anxious about doing something so risky without the usual hospital setup. Blood typically gets checked numerous times before it's infused, as giving someone the wrong blood type is a fatal mistake that can't easily be undone.

"As far as Rick remembers," the older man answered me, giving me a look that conveyed he was reading my mind but didn't want to say it out loud and alarm the room. I gave him a subtle nod before taking over putting pressure on Carl's stomach. The air in the crowded space was understandably tense, with Rick and Lori alternating between being stoic and crying. The blood from the gunshot wound was now only trickling, so I went back to check his blood pressure and do a full assessment. A wave of calm washed over me as I went on autopilot, turning off my emotions to listen to my mind and training.

"86/50," I said to the room– better, but still a little low for where we'd want it. "Heart rate is 140," High for a boy his age, but a natural consequence of the low blood pressure from blood loss. "Capillary refill is delayed," also an expected finding, "and his abdomen is distended and firm," indicating internal bleeding. "Pulses are thready, but regular."

I stepped back from his bed as the older man stood up. Carl wasn't totally out of the woods yet, but this was a good time to make a game plan. We bought him a little bit of time– at least, until he burned through all that blood we just infused. Everyone filed out of the room to discuss next steps.

"I'm Hershel," the older man introduced himself to me. I went to shake his hand, before noticing it was covered in blood, and went for a wave instead.

"Mila. I'm here to help in any way I can."

"I appreciate that, Mila. You were very helpful in there already and that was before we knew each other's names. Imagine what we can do now," he replied, kindly. I offered a small smile back and exhaled, relieved to have assisted in any way at all. He turned to Rick and Lori. "He's out of danger for the moment, but I need to remove those other fragments."

"Wait, why?" The question slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. I didn't mean to question Herschel in front of everyone, but needing to remove bullets was a Hollywood myth. If they weren't causing any trouble, it usually caused more damage than it was worth to dig them out.

"You said it yourself– his abdomen is distended and firm. We need to find the piece causing the bleeding," he pointed out.

"Yeah, that makes sense– but once we find it, there's no need to get the others. We left bullets in all the time, if they weren't causing any issues." My face flamed as everyone looked at me, making me second guess myself. "I guess that was in the age of CT machines though, so we could tell before going in which ones needed to go. Just ignore me." I looked down to the floor and wished I'd studied every gunshot case we'd ever had like my life had depended on it… like Carl's did. Why the hell wasn't I paying more attention? Self-directed anger flared in my veins. Later, I promised myself. Not now.

"No, no– that's a good point. I haven't actually performed this procedure before, so it's a good consideration to think about," Herschel replied, his tone understanding and absent of any defensiveness.

"Wait, what? I thought you were a surgeon?" Rick asked stiffly.

"Sort of. I was a veterinarian." Lori visibly paled and put her hands on a nearby table for support. "But this is our only option. He's going to keep bleeding until I open him up and stitch whichever artery got nicked."

Rick developed his own pallor, and I pulled a chair over to him and pointed to it.

"Mila, could you do this? You've at least worked on humans," Lori pleaded, desperate and far too believing in my abilities. My heart broke for her.

"Lori, I so wish I could… but Herschel's our best chance. I was in a supportive role in the hospital. I've never opened anyone up or done stitches. I don't want my first time to be on your boy." My voice was cracking, letting through some of the despair I was working so hard to push down.

"If we're going to do this, we need him to be sedated. I have a stockpile I can use, but we need to protect his airway," Herschel was looking at me to understand the issue.

"We need him to be intubated," I finished softly, deflated. Where the hell were we going to find any of the supplies we needed for that?

"What does that mean?" Rick demanded.

"We need to breathe for him while he's unconscious. He'll move too much otherwise. I don't have the tubes we need or a ventilator," Herschel answered resolutely.

"An ambu bag could work," I offered, "and I could handbag. That may be easier to get than a ventilator." Herschel nodded, agreeing with my plan. "Then sterile drapes, sutures, irrigation fluid…" I listed off everything I could think of but the truth was, there were probably a dozen more items that we'd need to be successful. The room was starting to feel too small and hot.

"And if you had that, you could save him?" Lori's voice was hopeful and fearful, all at the same time.

"I could try," Herschel said with a solemn nod. He must abide by my code– no lies. No matter how nice they sound or how easy they'd slip out. Otis spoke up now.

"The nearest hospital went up in flames a month ago." Something in Herschel's face caused realization on his own. "The high school."

"That's what I was thinking," Herschel affirmed. "They set up a FEMA shelter there."

"They would have everything we need… place was overrun the last time I saw it, though." Very overrun, judging by the dread in Otis' eyes. "You couldn't get near it, but maybe it's better now?" He didn't sound confident in that assertion.

"I said 'leave the rest to me,'" Shane jumped in, "is it too late to take it back?" He joked, knowing this sounded like a suicide mission. Even with all the shit he'd pulled since I'd joined the group, I could see how much he cared about Carl. Rick gave him an appreciative look.

"I'll go," I offered, definitively. I knew what we needed, where it would likely be kept, and the pediatric sizes we'd need. Shane could get in there, but he wouldn't be able to tell a suture kit from a box of bandaids. Daryl's voice projected from where he was standing with his arms folded in the corner of the room, speaking up for the first time since we entered the house and making me jump.

"Hell no."

I looked at him over my shoulder.

"Yes, I am." My tone said try me and I knew he would.

"No, you ain't." His voice matched my tone. We were both the same amount of stubborn and could sit here arguing until morning about it.

"Shane has no idea what to look for. I know the pediatric sizes for endotracheal tubes, the difference between absorbable and non-absorbable sutures, which irrigation fluid to grab, and which antibiotics to prioritize if I see any for T. Not to mention, the twenty other things we'd need for a surgery of this size."

Daryl clenched his jaw, balling his fists at his side. Control freak number one, please meet control freak number two. I didn't fault him for feeling this way, but not liking it didn't mean it wasn't going to happen.

"I'm comin' with," he demanded, making me shake my head.

"You need to go get T-Dog and bring him here." Daryl glanced at Maggie and I interrupted before he could try, "He won't be able to ride a horse either. Shane will be there, he'll keep me from becoming walker chow. Right, Shane?" Daryl looked even angrier at my joke, not at all appeased by Shane's unconvincing confirmation.

"Did someone get bit?" Maggie's worried voice cut into our conversation.

"No, nothing like that," I said, still fixated on Daryl's gaze boring into mine. "He cut his arm on a rusty piece of metal. It's pretty infected." I broke our staring contest to look at Herschel, "If I can just put an IV in him and infuse some antibiotics, he should be okay." Herschel nodded.

"By all means, bring him here."

"Doc, why don't you make us a list and draw us a map?" Shane asked, pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it to Herschel.

"No need, I'll take you." Otis spoke up again. "This was my fault and I need to make it right. I was a volunteer EMT, so I can help you look for supplies too."

"Otis, no-" His wife spoke up, concern evident.

"Honey, we don't have time for guesswork, and I'm responsible. Now we could talk about this 'til next Sunday, or we can go do it right quick."

I gulped, trying to put on a braver face than I felt. Sure, I'd killed walkers– I wouldn't have lasted this long if I hadn't– but I'd never voluntarily walked into a place that could be described as "overrun." Especially not with one stranger and another person I wasn't sure I trusted. While Rick, Shane, and Otis strategized, I decided to confirm the list with Herschel. I'd never forgive myself if Carl wasn't okay because of something I forgot, and we wouldn't exactly have another chance to go back.

"Okay, so, sterile drapes, whatever scalpel I can find, sutures as small as I can find them. Now would you prefer an ET tube or an LMA? Because I'm not sure if I'll be able to find a laryngoscope-" I couldn't stop the nervous babbling coming out of me. It was either that or panic and panicking would make me clumsy, or worse, careless. Herschel charitably interrupted me.

"Mila, I trust you. You will find and bring what I need and I will make do."

"But I've never done this before. What if I fail? What if Carl dies and it's my fault?"

He gave me a compassionate hand on the shoulder.

"This is a team effort– we succeed together and we lose together. Everyone is doing their best and that's all we can do."

I was both comforted and propelled into even more anxiety. Before all this, I last had a patient more than two years ago. What if I forget something essential? What if I don't even remember what the fuck I'm doing anymore? Even then, I was never alone. There were always resources– policies, protocols, checklists, other nurses or doctors to ask. The familiar claustrophobia was closing in. There were too many choices, too many ways to fail, too many paths to heartbreak anyway. What if I can't-

"Hey."

The room was spinning, but somehow I could still find Daryl's face in it. He gently grabbed my elbow, pushing me through the door and leading me to the porch. I put my hands on the railing and stared out at the darkening sky, trying to center my breath or some shit as my heart pounded. Daryl didn't speak, choosing instead to stand next to me with his back against the railing, shoulder to shoulder. Slowly, my hands stopped tingling and my breaths felt more controlled, less ragged. I finally looked at him.

"Sorry."

He rolled his eyes, but I could still see the concern in them. That was almost worse than the groan I was half expecting.

"How many times do I gotta tell ya-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Stop apologizing." I never realized how much I did, not until he pointed it out, but I still couldn't stop. It was a compulsion. They barely even registered as they tumbled out. He leveled me with a look, but it wasn't mad. If I didn't know better, I'd say Daryl was nervous.

"I don't like this," he looked away as he said it, as if just admitting that was somehow exposing a vulnerability of his. I nodded even though he wasn't looking at me.

"It's not ideal, but I have to try if it might save Carl. Shane and Otis will be there, and I still have your knife." I put my hand on it, as if to reassure myself.

"Nah, you need a gun." He pulled a revolver out of his waistband and pushed it into my hands. "The knife will be good if there's only one or two, but if there's more, then you'll need this."

"Oh, I've never used one so I'm afraid it won't be much good to me." I thought he'd make fun of my lack of survival skills again, but he didn't look amused in the slightest.

"Then, you're gonna learn today. Here's the safety… this is how you reload… you gotta pull back on the hammer before you shoot. Now, show me."

I did as I was told, albeit with more fumbling than when he had, but he seemed satisfied. I tucked it into my pants and almost laughed as I thought about someone telling 20-year-old me what I'd be up to one day.

We looked at each other, really looked, as if we both wanted to say something but didn't know how. Before either of us could try, Otis and Shane blew through the screen door.

"You ready?" Shane asked, not stopping to hear the answer.

"As I'll ever be," I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else.

"You come back in one piece, okay? Don't leave me with that dog to take care of," Daryl murmured, just low enough for me to hear. I bit back a smile, understanding the real message between the lines, and gave him a salute. Survive or die trying.

Thank you for my very kind review! As a gift, here is another chapter :)