Shane grabbed Connie's arm and pulled her to stand next to him, and she watched as Lori pulled Holly into her side with Carl holding onto her. Before she knew it, the two of them were moving Carol, Lori, and the three kids across the camp, Connie having long since forgotten her concussion.

All she could hear now was the ringing left behind by Shane, who was firing his shotgun at every walker who entered the camp. Carol and Lori were screaming, the kids were crying, and Connie was having a hard time comprehending what was really happening.

After seeing what was happening to the people she had met on the highway — after watching and hearing them all scream as the flesh was ripped and torn from their bones while they still lived — her face didn't hurt all that much anymore.

"Come on!" Shane screamed as loud as he could, waving his hands frantically to get people's attention. "Work your way up here!"

Connie didn't even now where here was. Everyone was screaming, and the ringing in her ears was slowly becoming too much, but she couldn't do anything about it.

Grimacing slightly, she picked Holly up and rested her on her hip and swung her lacrosse down on a walkers head, getting the ones at close range while Shane shot any other he could. She ran to Andrea and Amy as more gunfire echoed through the Quarry, and Connie could see Rick, T-Dog, Glenn and Daryl come running in.

Once reaching them, she set Holly down to hold onto Andrea and held up her stick. She spat out another mouthful of blood and swung it again, yelping quietly when the walker's head flew clean off it's shoulders.

Holly grabbed onto her leg, and Connie felt the fabric on the thigh of her jeans grow wet with tears. "Momma, where's Daryl?" She whimpered out, her entire body trembling.

Connie let out a quiet sob as panic set in. "I don't know, baby," she managed to whisper, tears spilling down her cheeks. "But he'll be here soon, alright? I'll keep you safe. I will always keep you safe."

She hit down walker after walker, blood splattering her clothes, arms and face. Nearly the entire stick was wet with red, and the screams of the dying weren't covered up by the chaos of everything happening. She heard every single one of them.

Then with a sudden dying lurch, everything went quiet, and it was over.

"Connie!" She heard Glenn scream. "Holly!"

There was another voice mixed in with that of her best friends, but she couldn't place who it was; not with her ears ringing as loudly as they were.

"Glenn!" Holly yelled for her as Connie stared blankly ahead of her, trying to stay as still as possible. Any form of movement made the ache in her head grow worse. "We're over here!" Footsteps in the gravel grew closer, and she was pulled in for a tight hug.

"Jesus Connie, what the hell happened to you?" Glenn breathed out when he held the woman at arms length.

Connie offered him a weak smile and glanced behind her, her smile growing when she noticed Daryl kneeling on the ground, Holly clinging onto him with her arms around his neck and her face buried deeply into the crook of his shoulder. "Nothing," she whispered in answer to Glenn's question, wincing when she felt the cut on her lip reopen.

"Don't look like nothin'," Daryl muttered as he made his way to her side with Holly positioned comfortably on his left hip. Connie could hear the quiet whimpers and shaky breaths her daughter drew in, and felt a piece of her own heart break. The last thing she wanted was for Holly to be scared, but she knew that fear was one of the few things that kept you alive in this world. But she'd never be the one to tell her daughter that. Daryl rested a hand under her chin and gently turned her head to the side, silently inspecting the wounds. "Looks like someone beat you."

Connie just shook her head, gently enough to keep his hand from falling and her head from aching. Daryl stared down at her, his brows creased into a deep frown. Instead of hugging her like Glenn had, he simply moved over slightly so his arm was pressed against hers. It didn't look like a lot to anyone, but coming from Daryl, Connie knew that meant a lot. She subconsciously leaned into him, her limbs aching with exhaustion.

"Are you alright?" Shane called from further up the hill, and Connie nodded shakily in response. Glenn walked forwards, quiet sobs breaking past his lips as they all took in the wreckage the walker hoard had left behind.

"I'm fine, my head just hurts," she answered weakly, her hands trembling. "Let's give them some space," Connie murmured, gesturing to Andrea and Amy. Daryl nodded and walked next to her, Holly still clinging to him.

Everyone stared at Andrea in shock as the women cried out her sisters name, Lori even collapsing to her knees. Connie felt a lump grow in her throat and tears well up in her eyes as she walked away, trying to block out the pain filled screams.

Daryl hesitantly wrapped an arm around her shoulder, unsure of what to do as the tears began to roll down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away, then folded her arms over her chest, making sure Daryl's arm stayed where it was.

He was warm.

"Momma, can we stay with Daryl tonight?" Holly asked quietly, resting her head on his chest.

Connie looked up at Daryl, wiping away her tears while doing her best to avoid the bruised areas of her face. "As long as it's okay with him," she answerd back quietly, looking back down at her feet. While she chewed on her lower lip, Connie realized she was scared to sleep in the bed of her truck; she was scared to be alone.

" 's fine," Daryl mumbled gruffly, glancing at the young girl in his arms.

"I remember my dream now, why I dug the holes," Jim called, catching everyones attention. His skin was covered in splatters of walker blood, his eyes holding a flicker of something that Connie couldn't quite name.

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Holly hadn't given her much say when she decided to sleep in Daryl's tent that night. Connie had been unable to separate her from him, so she made sure over and over again that Daryl was okay with it, before hesitantly agreeing to do so as well. He had given her Merle's sleeping bag, much to her dismay, but she found herself asleep long before she could even think of a complaint about it.

He'd noticed her shivering on the other side of Holly, and had silently — so quietly she wouldn't have even noticed it if she wasn't already awake — laid another spare blanket over both her and Holly.

When she had left the tent that morning, Holly clinging to her arm as tightly as she could, she was greeted with the overwhelming metallic scent of blood. She saw Andrea first. The blonde was hunched over her sisters body, hands shaking as she stared down at her unmoving chest and palce face.

Then she saw Daryl.

He was helping T-Dog carry the bodies away from the camp, and separating walkers from the fallen group members. Realizing there was a tightness on her face, Connie brought a hand up to her cheek, grimacing at the feeling of dried blood on her skin.

"Sweetie, why don't you clean yourself up?" Connie jumped at the sound of Jacqui's voice, turning to face the woman with wide eyes. Jacqui offered her a strained smile, holding her hand out to Holly. "I'll help Holly wash up, and see what I can do about the bloody clothes."

"Thank you," Connie whispered. She picked Holly up and pressed a kissed to her forehead, letting out a shaky breath before watching the young girl walk down to the Quarry, a tight grip on Jacqui's hand.

"Are you alright Connie?" Shane asked as she walked towards the RV, blinking owlishly.

"No, my face still hurts," she answered quietly, leaning against the door frame as she went up the first step. "The gunshots didn't really help my head, either."

The throbbing had turned into a dull ache over time, but the stitches in her lip had ripped the night before. She hadn't noticed until that morning because of her panic and exhaustion.

The echoing click of a bullet being set into the chamber of a gun caught her attention, and Connie craned her neck to look at Andrea, who had a gun pointed at Rick with an emotionless expression on her face.

"I'm sorry," she heard him repeat as he stepped back, hands up in the air.

Connie walked into the RV and took a cloth that hung from the small oven door, and wet it with warm water. She stared into the small bathroom mirror as she washed her face off, and let out a sigh as she had to keep rinsing the cloth off. She walked out of the RV in time to see Daryl walk off, scoffing quietly with a pickaxe slung over his shoulder.

"Are all the kids okay?" She asked Lori while sitting on the step, and Lori nodded.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Glenn's yelling made it nearly impossible for the conversation to continue. "We don't burn them!" He snapped loudly, his lower lip quivering. "We bury them. Understand?" When Daryl nodded slightly, Glenn pointed to the pile a little ways away from the fire. "Our people go over there."

Connie stood up and moved to help Jacqui bury a body.

"Holly's with Dale," Jacqui told her quietly, letting out a quiet sigh. "She wanted to learn all about the watch."

Connie smiled faintly and nodded, letting out a shaky breath as she squatted down next to the legs.

"I'll do it, Connie," Jim told her gently as he bent down and took her place. Connie stared at his all dark attire, but nodded anyway. He was sure to overheat, but there wasn't anything she could do.

"Are you bleedin'?" Jacqui asked quietly, and Jim rapidly shook his head.

"No," he murmured. "I just got some on me from the bodies." Jim sounded as if he couldn't catch his breath.

Connie stared at the slowly growing red patch on the front of his shirt, and felt her brows furrow.

"That blood's fresh," Jacqui snapped. "Were you bit."

She watched the altercation quietly, her attention focused on the bloody patch of Jim's shirt.

"No," Jim breathed out, panting slightly. "I got scratched during the attack."

"You got bit?" Jacqui hissed, standing up with a hand gripping Connie's forearm. The younger of the two women let out a slow breath.

When Jacqui demanded that Jim show her the 'scratch' and he looked at her then Connie pleadingly, she had to look away.

"Don't tell," Jim wheezed quietly. "Please."

"A walker got him," Jacqui called, alerting the other surviving members of the group of their current situation. "A walker bit Jim."

Jacqui pulled her away — Connie was still dealing with her extreme headache and was finding it hard to process things too quickly — as the others quickly ran up to see what was going on.

"Show it to us," Daryl demanded, silently positioning himself in front of Connie. When Jim picked up the shovel to defend himself, Connie felt her heartbeat quicken. There was too much violence occurring. It reminded her of her childhood.

T-Dog snuck up behind Jim and held his arms back, allowing Daryl to lift the mans shirt up so everyone could get a look at the bite. It was an angry looking circle that was swollen slightly around the edges, blood visible at torn areas. Connie felt the urge to throw up.

"I'm okay," Jim repeated weakly as the two men stepped away from him, Daryl returning to stand at Connie's side with Morales on the right.

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"I say we put a pickaxe in his head, and the dead girl's and be done with it." Daryl stated. Most of the group had sat together, debating on what should happen concerning Amy and Jim.

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane asked lowly, staring up at Daryl with squinted eyes.

"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it," Daryl shrugged as if it were the most casual answer in the world.

"I hate to say it," Dale began," I never thought I would, but maybe Daryl's right." All attention was on Dale now, who let out a quiet sigh.

"Jim's not a monster, Dale," Rick snapped, "or some rabid dog."

As an argument brewed, Connie shifted from one foot to another anxiously. The last thing that the group needed was to be at each others throats.

"If we start down that road, where do we draw the line?" Rick asked everyone rhetorically.

"The line's pretty clear," Daryl scoffed, glancing over at Connie. "Zero tolerance for walkers, or ones-to-be."

"What if we can get him help?" Rick asked, his head tilted to the side. "I heard the C.D.C. was working on a cure."

"I heard that too," Shane snorted. "I heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."

"It's pretty far," Connie sighed, crossing her arms over her chest in discomfort. "Do we even have enough gas to make it there?" Her comment made everyone more weary on Rick's suggestion.

"What if the C.D.C. is still up and running?" Rick retorted, looking at Shane, who refused to meet his gaze. Connie glanced between the two, pursing her lips.

"Man, that is a stretch right there," Shane scoffed, looking down at his feet.

"Why?" Rick asked, glancing over the people in the small group. "If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C. at all costs, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot." Connie couldn't help but agree with Rick. He was making a point, and it was a tempting suggestion, but her argument still stood; would they have enough gas? "Shelter, protection—"

When Shane joined the argument, Connie looked at the ground. She pulled her engagement ring from the belt loop at the back of her jeans and twirled it around in her fingertips, a faint smile on her lips as she thought back to the time her and Dustin had actually made it as far as the dress fitting.