After a few days of healing, with only Siddiq and Dante for company, someone new is in my room. The sun had started its descent, and the last thing I expected was a man in the priest's get-up strolling through the door. His white priest's collar feels like a joke to me. I study the dark-skinned man as he unlocks the cuffs keeping me trapped in the bed.

"Daryl spoke highly of you, says you saved one of ours. Why?" He asks, meeting my graze.

"I don't know. I saw her and I couldn't let her die. Are you the leader here?"

"I'm Gabriel. One of Alexandria's counsel. Why couldn't you let her die?" I'm confused by the question.

"I... I'm not sure. She's a person, she clearly has people who care for her. There was no reason for her to go out like that."

"I see." He hums. "I'm gonna level with you." Gabriel's face turns serious. "We are at war here. Another group took many lives, placed their heads on spikes to signify their border. The woman you saved, Carol, her son was one of those people."

"Who are they?"

"We call them the Whisperers. They wear masks made from the skins of walkers, that's what we call the dead. They walk among them, controlling their direction. They are ruthless and we believe they plan to end us. We will not allow that, and we could use another fighter with your aim." He sighs, "It's hard to trust strangers. Michonne would kill me for this, but we're out of options and she's not here." He offers me a hand, and I take it. Fool.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

Gabriel shows me around Alexandria. I can't help but stare at the people and the clean, nice house. Unlike the trailer park, this feels more like the world I used to be a part of. Sure, the people are worse for wear, and there are horses and farmland in the town, but the houses, the house look normal.

"Let's get you a warm shower and a fresh set of clothes. Carol and Daryl are off on a run, he offered his place for you to stay." He leads me to the door, bids me a goodnight, and leaves me to settle in. Shower. He said shower. God, it's been so long.

Moving slowly, I take in Daryl's home. He doesn't have a lot of possessions, which doesn't surprise me. Some tools scattered on a makeshift workbench, a small couch, and a coffee table make up the living room. It's a bit of a mess, but when my eyes latch on a clean, fluffy towel and a folded set of clothes, nothing else matters. Straight across from where I stand in the door I can see a bathtub.

I rush forward, enter the bathroom, and jump to turn the water on. Despite Gabriel saying "warm shower," I'm still shocked when it works. My clothes are gone so fast I rip the collar on my shirt. It's impossible to stop the small moan that escapes as the warm water hits me. Scrubbing the dirt and grime from my body feels like shedding a second, dead skin. After allowing a few moments for the water to run all over me, I look around. Spotting a bar of homemade soap I nearly sob.

After about the third thorough scrub, I let out a satisfied sigh and turned the water off. Opening the curtain, I reach for the towel, hold it to my nose, and breathe in the linen scent. So distracted I am by the sensation of being clean again, truly clean, I don't hear him enter.

"Rosemary?" A familiar gruff voice calls. "Ya here?" I jump, dropping the towel and making a pitiful squeak. Instantly my cheeks burn, as our eyes catch I watch his widen in surprise. He stares at me a beat longer, eyes glazing. "Shit!" He snaps out of it, covering his eyes. "Put some damn clothes on."

"I'm sorry!" I fumbled for the towel, but my knee smacked the edge of the tub. "Fuck!" I shout, falling forward. Before I hit the floor I feel his arms wrap around me. I slam into his chest, firm and warm.

"Jesus woman, how did you survive out there so long?" He sounds mad, but I see a faint redness in his cheeks.

"The last few days have been a lot to take in! Give me a break." I snap back. I see his lips quirk into a small smirk. He gently stands me upright, careful where his hands are. "Plus Gabriel said you were out on a run."

"I was. Run ended early." He hurries out, closing the door behind him. As soon as he's gone I cover my face with my hands, groaning. Giving my cheeks a few sharp smacks, I swallow my pride, get dressed, and walk to the main room.

Dog greets me with a quick bark and wagging tag. He jumps on my chest, and I drop to my knees. "Who's a good boy? Huh?" I scratch his head, letting him sit in my lap.

"Dog, come on you know better than that." Dog whines, before moving to lay beside me, one paw placed defiantly on my knee. "Really?" A laugh, something I'd almost forgotten about, falls from me. Then another. "Ain't funny." He growls.

"You're smiling, don't pretend." I tease, "You're easier to read than you think." I wink at him. The endorphins from my first real laugh in years emboldened me.

"Whatever." His eyes roll, but the flush doesn't leave his cheeks. "Did Gabe fill ya in?" He changed the subject, and I let him.

"About the Whisperers? Yeah."

"So ya know about Lydia?" My brows furrow in confusion. "I'll take that as a no. Their leader, Alpha, Lydia is her daughter, and she's living here. She's a good kid, but she's been through some tough shit."

"I get that. Mommy issues are all too familiar to me." I scoff, squeezing my eyes shut tight as her face passes through my mind.

"Okay. We have one of her mom's people in the cell. Carol captured him. I gotta go help them talk to 'im, would, uh, you mind watchin' Dog?"

"Yay! I- I mean yeah, no problem. Um, good luck?" He stares at me for a second, then nods and heads out the door into the night. Dog licks my hand gently, and I return to scratching his soft head. "Good boy, good Dog, come on," I hop onto the couch, lying down, and Dog follows. With Dog curled up snoring gently next to me, I close my eyes and let the world slip away.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

"They got in! They're in the wall!" I hear Lincoln, our head guard, scream. "Prepare to fight!" The growling and groaning grow louder and louder as dead one after dead one pours in.

"Rosemary! We gotta go." My dad tugs my sleeve, waking me from my trace. Jumping into action, we race towards the breach, firing our arrows in perfect harmony. Body after body fall. Children scream as limbs are taken, and parents screech in horror, attacking with the rage of a bear.

"There's too many! Retreat, go! Save yourse-" Lincoln screams as he's dragged into the mass of stumbling bodies. We meet eyes, each losing one more shot before turning to run. I stumble over a body, and he catches my arm. I reach to my belt and rip my knife out, plunging into the eye of the dead one coming from behind him.

"Let's go, Rose." We take off, heading for the southern entrance. Blood clouds my vision, and slicks my hands and my shoes. We reach the gate, a small man door only meant for emergencies. Dad makes quick work of removing the locks and shoving the door open. He shoves his way out then turns and reaches his hand towards me. I see the teeth coming at him as my hand wraps in his, feel the squeeze as the pain and shock hits him. I scream.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

"Rosemary! Hey, woah." I snap awake, covered in sweat and panting. "You're gonna wake the whole community. It's okay, it's just a dream." My vision blurred, I searched for the source of the voice.

"Where-?" I start, unable to finish a sentence. My breathing won't slow and my chest feels the weight of hundreds of lost friends and family bearing down on it.

"Shhh, it's okay, Rose. Come 'ere," I feel him sit on the couch beside me, wrapping his arms around me, the musky smell is becoming familiar, and I register Daryl as the voice. "Breathe. I've got ya." I curl into him, shaking as he holds me. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. I repeat the practice over and over.

He doesn't speak again, just holds me as I slow my breathing and relax against him. Dog whimpers on the floor beside us and is given a gentle shush. "How late is it?" I ask against his chest.

"Late." I hum, closing my eyes. The fitful, quick nap, followed by pure terror drained me all over again. Against the beating of his heart and his warmth, sleep calls to me again. I try to fight but it's no use. It's been so long since I've been held like this.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

I wake the next morning to the sun shining through a small window. Alone, but with a blanket wrapped around me and a pillow under my head. It takes me a moment to realize I'm no longer on the couch. I'm wrapping on a bed that smells all too familiar. Musky, woodsy, dark.

Horses neigh and people chatter in the distance. Moving slowly, I get out of bed, pulling the blanket with me and wrapping it around my body. I shuffle to the door of the small bedroom and crack it open. It's dim in the room, a curtain not quite covering the full window. A single ray of sun slices into the room and across Daryl's sleeping face. He's scrunched on the small couch, Dog having made himself comfortable atop a blanket on the floor.

I can hear Daryl breathing evenly, his hair messily strewn across his face. Taking the moment to study him, I rest against the door frame. His face is dirty and a small cut stands out on his cheek. His strong chest rises and falls again and again. He confuses me. Snaps and rolls his eyes, yet holds a woman he just met through a nightmare-induced panic attack. Helps "talk to" a captive, then carries me to bed, giving up his own comfort. The blood stain on his collar tells me that the conversation didn't go well.

Registering my presence, Dog lets out a happy yip and trots over. As Daryl's eyes snap open, I do my best to act as though I had only just opened the door, feigning a yawn.

"G'morning," His morning voice is even deeper, groggy with a more pronounced rasp than usual.

"Morning..." I can feel the blush but hope it's not as prominent as it feels. "Sorry about last night. It seems yours was hard enough without... All of that."

"S'okay. We all go through shit."

"Yeah. Speaking of shit, you look like it. What the hell happened last night?" He sighs at the question.

"We talked to the guy. Carol offered him fresh bread with jam, and he spit it in her face. After that, it all went to shit. In the end, he didn't make it. Dante and Siddiq made a mistake with their medical herbs." That didn't sound right.

"A mistake? You sure?"

"Everyone's tired. It happens." He stands, stretching. His joints pop and he sighs. "I'm gonna hit the shower, feel free to rustle up something to eat." He explains where to find the food storage, and leaves me alone once again.

Dog following at my heels, I head out into the bright morning. People eye me as we walk, some smiling the nodding, others scowling, their eyes full of judgment. Carol greets me as I enter the house that stores their meals.

"Good morning, Rosemary, right?"

"Yeah, yes. Feel free to call me Rose."

"I'm Carol, though I suspect you know that already. Thanks, and welcome to Alexandria." She shakes my hand. "Take what you need, but not more. We don't have much and what we do we share."

Taking the basket she hands me, I peer around. They have real food. Fresh veggies and venison. I gather some potatoes, peppers, onion, meat, and herbs. "Thanks, see you around."

Once back in Daryl's home, I find the tools I need to get to work. First I chop the meat into small, bacon thin bits, then sear it. Dicing all the veggies, I toss them into the cast-iron pan, letting them cook in the drippings from the meat. I season with the herbs, tasting as I go. I can't contain the joy of being in a kitchen again. I used to love cooking. It feels so normal, easy.

"Smells good." Daryl emerges from the bathroom.

"Here," I hand him a plate of the steaming hashbrowns. "I did the best I could with what I could grab." He sits at the small table and digs in.

"Thanks. You're a good cook."

"It's the least I could do. You've been... amazing, Daryl," His eyes meet mine, and for a moment we just look at each other. My heart starts thudding loudly in my chest. The air feels heavy around me and I feel myself leaning towards him. His tongue flicks across his bottom lip, eyes still piercing mine. My breath catches, and I hear his do the same as he starts leaning towards me as well. Panicking, I quickly look away and take a big forkful of my meal. We sit in awkward silence for a moment as he finishes his breakfast,

He stands suddenly, knocking the table with his knee. "Uh... I gotta get. Lydia ran off last night. Gonna try to find 'er."

"Oh. Yeah okay! Did you want company?" I ask, unsure what answer I'm hoping for.

"Sure. Your bows in the closet, grab it, and let's go."

Once prepared, we head out the door and walk along the path to the front gate. Dog trots along as we journey to the place at the border where Carol watched Lydia flee. He crouches, studying a footprint.

"She went this way." He says. "Stay quiet, and follow me." Stepping gingerly, we trace her path along the edge of the border, deeper into the woods. Dog barks in warning. I raise my bow and knock an arrow into place, searching for the source of his alarm. A group of four walkers stumbles towards us. "Careful, watch their hands. Whisperers'll have weapons." I nod and study the walker coming at me. Nothing out of the ordinary. I lose my arrow and watch it sink into its grey eye. It falls, causing the next to trip over the downed body, landing at my feet and latching onto my right foot. I shout, falling onto my ass. My ankle twists at an odd angle.

"Rose!" Daryl yells, I watch as he whips two daggers from his belt. Wielding one in each hand, he steps forward and plunges one into the heads of the two walkers in front of him. Dog growls and bites the leg of the walker still grappling my foot, but the leg pulls out easily, not even phasing it. It chomps at my boot, thankfully no teeth piercing me yet. I kick at it with my left heel, frantically searching for anything to use as a weapon. My eyes land on a discarded pipe, grabbing it I smash it against its head in one smooth motion, screaming all the way. I hit it again, flinching at the crack of its skull as the pipe smashed into its brain. Daryl rushes to my side, plunging a dagger into its head for good measure. He throws the body away from me, ripping my shoe off and inspecting me for wounds.

"I'm alright. It didn't get me." His hands search my foot, ankle, and up my leg. "Daryl. I'm fine." I gently touch his shoulder.

"Okay. Okay. Can you keep going?" He helps me stand, but the second I put pressure my ankle sears in pain and I yelp.

"I messed up my ankle a bit... it's okay, I can make my way back."

"No way. You'll get yourself killed." He grabs my bow and swoops me into his arms. "Come on, Dog,"

"I can walk! Put me down!" I squeal, shoving at his chest as he starts strolling back the way we came.

"Nope." Ignoring my protests he continues, holding me tight to his chest. After a quick smack to his chest proves futile, I sigh and give in, crossing my arms over my chest and looking away with a scowl. "Pout all y'a want, woman. Not gonna change my mind." Embarrassment floods me as my cheeks flush at his gruff words, liking them more than I have any reason to. I try to be subtle as I squeeze my legs together, but I see him smirk as we continue in silence.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

Back on Daryl's couch, Siddiq checks my ankle and lets me know it's only been twisted a bit. He wraps it and gives me some herbs for the pain. After instructing Daryl and me on how to grind them and make the tea, and requesting I return it that evening, he rushes out to take care of other patients. There seems to be a sickness going around, people falling ill left and right.Much to my chagrin Daryl makes the tea, forcing me to stay seated on the couch with Dog. He brings me the steaming mug.

"How's it feel?"

"A bit sore. Nothing I haven't dealt with a million times before." I laugh, sipping on the warm liquid.

"Good. You always that clumsy out there?" He teases.

"Hey! I've been through a bit these past few days. It felt weird being out there again after experiencing all this." I gesture out the door towards the rest of Alexandria.

"Fair enough. You did well saving yourself, I'm sorry I didn't get you to you fast enough." He sighs.

"You did! You still saved me, even if I didn't want to accept it,"

"Next time, I'll do better." He says, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'll run you a bath so you can clean up, okay?"

"You're quite the caregiver."

"Not normally. I don't know what it is with you. Don't get too used to it," I smile to myself as he disappears into the bathroom. I hear the water running for a few minutes before he returns. He walks over to offer me his hand, helping me to my feet.

"I got it," I say.

"Stop fighting me or I'll just carry you there instead." I roll my eyes and lean on him. He leaves me to soak my aching bones. Despite everything else going on, I can't seem to shake Daryl from my mind.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

After the bath, Daryl is nowhere to be found. Dog's gone too. I hobble to the kitchen and gather up the remaining herbs from Siddiq. Leaving a quick note for Daryl, I head out into the evening light, the half-set sun casting a glow across the whole town.

I knock on the door to Siddiq's home. After several beats with no response, an eerily feeling rushes through me. Turning the non, I carefully push the door open.

"Siddiq?" I ask. From above I hear a thud, and the sounds of struggling, then silence. I see the woman I'd been introduced to as Rosita coming towards the house with a baby wrapped snuggly in her arms. I motion her to stop, and mouth "somethings wrong." She freezes, then nods.

"I'll find someone to help," she runs off down the street as I draw my dagger and move through the kitchen, careful of each footfall. As quickly as possible without making noise, I ascend the stairs. I creep through the open door and stop mid-step.

Crouching over Siddiq's limb body is Dante, his hands still wrapped around the other doctor's throat.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," he says to Siddiq. "You weren't supposed to find out,"

The dagger glints in his hand as he raises it to Siddiq's head. I try to rush to them, but the floorboards creek beneath me, and Dante's head snaps in my direction.

"Rosemary, this is... an unfortunate situation we find ourselves in." He states plainly.

"What did you do? Why?" He takes a step towards me

"I had no choice. Just as I have no choice about what to do with you." He lunges for me. Slicing at his hand I dodge him narrowly, just catching his arm with my blade. "Fucking bitch." He grapples my hands, slamming my wrist against the wall. The dagger falls from my hand. Dante twists my arms behind my back, pulling me backward against his chest.

"Get off me!" I thrash about, trying to kick his shins.

"Shhh pretty girl," One hand gripping mine, he uses the other to run his hand up my leg and across my hip, before slipping it under the edge of my shirt. "Alpha will be pissed I got caught, but maybe if I bring her a present as pretty as you..." He breathes in my ear, his jaw clicking. I hear stirring behind us, a growl filling the room. Finally, someone who understands how worthless you are. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for whatever comes next, praying Rosita is bringing help. No one is coming for you.

"Get your fucking hands off her, now."