So...I've been super busy lately in my real (non-wattpad) life and just wanted to say I really appreciate all of you who have patiently stuck with me with the slow updates. I haven't abandoned any of my stories, I just have limited time to write right now and unfortunately four active stories is a little much. But...It's your lucky day! With record low temps here (-51 windchill was our daytime high) I'm stuck at home, and you guys get an unscheduled update!

Happy Reading!

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Jo

I woke up to the sound of a baby crying. As soon as she whimpered my eyes snapped open. For a moment I was completely disorientated. My over-tired mind convinced I was back at home before all of this happened with Micheal sleeping safely in the next room. I stared up at the ceiling above me for a long moment before I remembered where I was.

With three communities all crammed together all anyone could hope for was a decent spot on the floor. They had opened all the windows and doors in the old house but it was still stuffy and sweat beaded on my skin. Daryl had tried to convince me to sleep out in the yard instead of on the smooth hard wood of the hall, but I felt better being closer to the girls. Being surrounded by so many strangers made me a little uneasy. Daryl and I had chosen the far end of the hall away from the group. Only Enid and Rosita had chosen to sleep near us.

Daryl was fast sleep beside me, his arms wrapped tightly around me as he snored softly. It had been so long since we were able to sleep like this. I wanted to stay snuggled in the circle and safety of his arms, but Grace whimpered again. Years of being a mom were hard to shake. When someone didn't immediately shush her I climbed stiffly to my feet.

I pushed open the nursery door. A breeze blew through the open window and I shivered as the cool air touched my sweaty skin. Tara was sleeping on the bed in the corner. She had helped around the community earlier in the day, but she was still injured and I didn't blame her for not waking up.

Judith was still asleep in her crib, but Grace had pulled herself up by her bars and was looking up at me with tears streaming down her cheeks. I moved as quietly as possible so I wouldn't wake either Judith or Tara.

"Hey Grace," I whispered in a sweet voice as I lifted her out of the crib.

Her diaper was wet. I found the supplies beneath a makeshift changing table and she quieted once I changed her. I picked her back up and she wrapped her small arms around my neck. My throat tightened as she snuggled trustingly in my arms. I missed my son every day, but I hadn't realized until that very moment how much I fundamentally missed being a mom.

She shifted a few times and I realized my shoulder rig was getting in the way of her being comfortable. I set her back on the changing table and slipped out of it. Setting it, the knives and guns down on a side table before I scooped the little girl back up in my arms. I rocked instinctively as I held her cradled in my arms and the tension faded from her small body as she began to fall back asleep. Grace fell asleep quickly but I was hesitant to put her down

A peace I hadn't felt for so long settled around me as I stood in the dark room rocking the infant. It had been a long time since I felt this kind of quiet in my head. The peace of holding a sleep child who was so trusting in my arms was indescribable. Tears pricked my eyes and I knew, knew that when this was over. If no one else had, Daryl and I would take Grace. We would raise her together and keep her safe in this world.

I closed my eyes as I realized the feeling, the quiet...it was hope.

Grace represented hope for the future. For the first time maybe ever I truly had something to look forward to, something to do other than fight. This is what Carl had meant. I thought I understood his letter, but I realized I hadn't until this very moment, holding Grace in my arms.

I closed my eyes as tears streamed down my cheeks. I wanted this so badly. I wanted this to be over and for the girls to be safe. My hand rested against Grace's back and I knew that I would do whatever I had to do to make sure this world was safe for them.

It was easy to forget how dangerous the world was beyond these walls on a night like this. With the cool, gentle breeze blowing through the window I closed my eyes and just rocked Grace as she slept. Like this, I could forget about the war, and Negan and what would need to be done in the morning. I could forget about Carl and Kate and all those I loved that I had lost. I could just be.

It was incredibly freeing.

I moved slowly, keeping my movements as smooth as possible as I lowered Grace back into her crib. She fussed a little and I gently patted her chest. Running a soothing hand back and forth across her tummy. The toddler stretched her chubby little arms over her head and a gentle snore came from her nose. I snorted softly as I smiled down at her and thought of Daryl.

I turned to sneak out the door back to Daryl, knowing he would be worried if he woke up and I wasn't there. I moved slowly and as silently as possible. There was nothing in this world that could make me disturb the peace of the nursery.

I had just reached for the doorknob and then the screaming started.

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Daryl

I jerked awake as screams echoed through the large two story stair case. People were screaming and panicking and Jo was gone. I jumped to my feet, snatching up my crossbow, swearing under my breath. Of course she was goddamn gone. She was probably off somewhere in the middle of it already.

I stepped up to the rail and saw walkers everywhere in the crowd of where people had been sleeping below. I fired a bolt, hitting one in the head. It collapsed like a puppet whose strings were cut. But no one else was fighting yet. No one knew what was happening.

Enid and Rosita ran up to me breathless. "What do we do?" Enid asked, like it wasn't goddamn obvious.

I gritted my teeth. I was raw because I didn't know where Jo was, but that didn't mean I had to be an asshole. Enid was just a kid.

"Let's-" I started to say and the nursery door behind us opened. Jo was standing in the doorway, a scowl on her face, and completely unarmed.

I grunted and grabbed Rosita and Enid, shoving them into the room ahead of me. Jo pulled back, stumbling over her feet to get out of the way. I slammed the door and behind us Baby Gracie started bawling. Her crying was going to draw the walkers straight here. We had to be ready to fight.

I leveled a look at Jo. "Where the shit are your-" I started to ask, but she whirled around and snatched up her shoulder rig off a table, shrugging it on.

"What's going on?" Tara asked groggily, shoving herself up in bed.

"Walkers got in," I said grimly.

I whipped around to face Enid and Rosita, both already had their guns out. I pointed at Rosita's chest. "You stay here and protect the girls," I ordered vehemently. "I don't care what you hear, you don't leave this room. You make sure they're safe. Got it?"

Rosita nodded. Our eyes holding as understanding passed between us. She was a fighter, but I needed to know someone was here in case things went sideways out there. Rosita was smart and resourceful enough to get the girls out if it came to that.

Enid stepped up beside her, lifting her gun. "We won't let anything happen to them," she promised me.

I nodded once briskly and reloaded my crossbow. "You ready Darl'in?" I asked, knowing it would be useless to ask Jo to stay behind.

"Let's go," she replied and opened the door.

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Jo

The snarl of walkers combined with screaming was echoing through the large old house. I could hear the thwack of Daryl's crossbow behind me as he and I fought our way towards the stairs. It was pandemonium. Everyone was panicking. No one seemed to know what was happening or what to do.

I kicked out at the first walker I came to, knocking it back into the railing. I stabbed it with a single strike through the eye and moved to the next and the next. People were running into each other as they frantically fought to get away. Some were trying to come up the stairs, while others were fighting to escape down the stairs. Daryl's crossbow released again behind me and a walker rolled all the way down to land on the rug at the bottom.

I fought to stay in control and really focus on who was moving around me. Everyone was so erratic it made it difficult for me to instinctively pick out the walkers. The walkers were all so fresh their flesh had barely begun to change. When I fought them, I could still feel the residual warmth in their bodies. Part of me knew it meant something, but I couldn't think beyond the feel of the knife in my hand and the movement of my body.

I heard a clatter behind me. Daryl must have run out of bolts and thrown his crossbow down to draw his knife. We cleared all the way to the stairs. The two of us took them two at a time so we could help the group below. We fought shoulder to shoulder in the foyer.

Ezekiel was standing over Rick and Siddiq as they worked over the body of one of our people who had been bit. The man's screams echoed louder than the others as they amputated his arm where he lay.

Jesus and Michonne were ushering people out of the house as Daryl and I fought. My knives were getting slippery in my hands, the grips weren't idea for the amount of gore on my hands.

I snapped one off, landing it in the temple of a walker about to attack Ezekiel from behind. He turned just in time to see it fall.

"Lady Jo!" he called in appreciation, a broad smile on his face.

I pulled another knife and turned back to the attacking walkers. The man's screams were drawing them from the other room, bringing them all straight to us.

There was a smattering of gunfire outside and Daryl snapped his head around to Michonne and Jesus. "Get out there!" he yelled. They couldn't keep sending people outside if there were more walkers. Most of these people would be helpless against even just one walker. "We got this!" He called slamming his blade into the top of one of the walkers skulls.

Morgan came running up behind me. I whirled around and relaxed a small amount when I saw it was him. He struck out with his stick killing who more. I threw the two knives in my hands, landing each of them in the last two walkers in the room.

Daryl stood, wrenching his knife from the skull of the walker he had just killed. "What the hell happened?" he growled.

I moved into the pile of bodies rolling them over with my foot so I could reclaim my knives. I wiped them off on the walkers' clothes and was surprised by how clean they were.

"I don't know," Rick said grimly. "Maybe walkers got in."

"Maybe during the fight," Morgan said, his eyes were wide and his movements were still jerky as he looked around for another target. I recognized the look. He was having a hard time separating himself from the fight. He needed a minute.

"They're fresh," I said straightening as I slid my knives away.

Daryl scowled down at the bodies. "These are all our own people," Daryl said, kicking one of the walkers over so he could see it's face.

There was a loud shout from upstairs. All of our heads snapped in that direction, but I was the first one up the stairs. I could hear Daryl's pounding footsteps behind me. I pulled two knives. I rounded the corner into the first bedroom just in time to see Tobin's body fall away from Carol. She was leaning against the wall, gasping for breath, blood coated the knife in her hand.

She looked more shaken than I had ever seen her. Tears were gathered in the corners of her eyes as she stared down at his body in shock.

"You all right?" Daryl asked, catching her elbow in his hand. I stepped over to the body, frowning down at it. It was just like the others. Hardly any decomposition had started. I couldn't quite remember but I was fairly certain he had been injured in the fight with The Saviors the night before.

Rick and Maggie came into the room behind us. Maggie stepped up to Carol, her concern for the other woman etched on her face.

"Yeah," Carol said gasping. "He wasn't bit. But he turned."

We all exchanged worried glances. Rick toed the body his eyes locked on the bandage that encircled his torso.

"Negan's bat," he said grimly. Daryl and I exchanged confused glances and Rick continued. "When I was out there with him, it was covered in walker blood," he knelt down beside the body and rolled it over, inspecting him. "I just thought he had crossed some. But maybe..."

Maggie scowled. "They have us working for them again. Kill'in our own," she growled angrily.

"It's the fever," Bruce called from the bed. "That's what it is." He was too weak to move. His skin was pale and damp, his eyes already struggling to focus.

Subconsciously, I tightened my grip on my knife. He was changing.

"It makes sense now," he panted looking down at the injury on his arm and tears started flowing down his cheeks. "One of you...you're gonna have to do it. I can't."

Maggie stepped over to the bed and took his hand in her own. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his hand. I could see the guilt tearing at her. Part of what made Maggie such a great leader was that she genuinely cared for each and every one of her people. But it also meant that she would blame herself for every death. What made her so good, would also break her in the end.

"You gotta do it for me," he begged her. "Please."

Maggie dropped her hand to reach for her gun. She would never forgive herself for this.

I moved the knife around in my hand, twirling it through my fingers thoughtfully. I wasn't as fast as a bullet, but it would be the most painless. There were already so many deaths on my conscience one more wouldn't tip the scale. I was sparing Bruce the pain of the change. I could live with that. Before anyone else made a move I jerked my hand back and let the blade fly.

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Daryl

Jo had been quiet since she had put Bruce down. I hated that she had done it. That she took that on herself and now she had pulled back from me again. I gritted my teeth at the injustice. It didn't always have to be her. If Rick and Maggie wanted to lead that meant doing the hard thing. They weren't acting any differently towards her but that almost made it worse. She wasn't their weapon to use any time they didn't feel like pulling the trigger.

Rick led the way back to the nursery. Morgan was standing guard outside the door. He nodded briskly to Rick as we passed him. Jo trailed behind us as Rick pushed open the door to the nursery.

Both Rosita and Enid had their guns pointed at his chest. I approved.

"Whoa, easy," he said holding up his hands.

"Good out there?" Rosita asked, her eyes flickered to me as she lowered her gun.

I nodded to her and she turned back to Rick.

"The house is clear," Rick said tiredly.

"Daddy," Lil Ass Kicker said, reaching for him. Rick picked her up in his arms and she wrapped her small arms around his neck.

Jo closed the door behind us with a gentle click. I glanced over my shoulder at her and she and Morgan were standing like guards in front of it. She was fidgeting with one of her knives.

We stepped deeper into the room and Baby Gracie was standing at her crib bars. She stretched her arms up towards Jo. Jo moved like she was going to pick her up, a small smile ghosted through her eyes, but when she saw the blood on her hands she flinched and turned away from the little girl.

Watching Jo close herself off like that was like getting stabbed in the chest. It seemed like every time she got the chance to catch her breath she got knocked right back down again. Her strength was one of the things I loved about her, but I hated that she has to use it all the time. I hated this. It needed to end.

"How'd this happen?" Tara asked, pushing herself up into a sitting position on the bed.

I shifted my weight, glancing towards Rick. He had buried his face in Lil Ass Kickers hair rather than answer her question. My jaw tightened. Coward.

"Um..." he started to stammer.

I owed Tara the explanation. It was my fault she was in this position. I stepped forward and interrupted him. "The saviors did something to their weapons. Everyone they cut up...or got shot...they all got sick," I said gently.

"Some of them turned," Rick added.

"What?" Enid asked in disbelief. "No," she said turning tear filled eyes to Tara.

Tara's eyes widened as she worked to process what we were telling her.

"When we were out there," I said swallowing. "And you said you were done waiting...I coulda killed him," I told her, knowing this was my fault. I had let that bastard live again and now Tara was paying the price. Dwight had killed her after all. Just one more person to add to his list. It was my fault. "I shoulda."

Tara clasped her hands together in her lap and lifted her chin bravely. "No, he wanted to be here with us. And no matter what he did or how hard he tried I wanted him dead. I mean he saved Jo," she said gesturing towards her. Jo shifted uncomfortably, wrapping her arms around her chest. "But I just couldn't let it be anything else," she snorted and shook her head. She lifted her eyes to meet mine. "Karma's a bitch, right?"

The silence hung heavy in the room. No one knew what else to say. There weren't enough pretty words in the world to make this better.

A gunshot echoed from outside, and we all jumped.

Rick strode to the window and peaked through the curtains. He turned back to the room. "Morgan, Jo," He called, jerking his chin towards the door.

Jo nodded once sharply and she and Morgan filed out the door. They weren't good together. I tightened my jaw, hating that he was sending her back out there when she was so clearly not in a good place.

She trailed her fingers along my forearm as she passed me, giving it a gentle squeeze. I looked down at her in surprise. She nodded to Tara and squeezed my arm again. She knew I shouldn't leave Tara. This was my fault. Now all we could do was stand here and wait for Tara to die.

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Jo

Morgan and I ran down the stairs together. He had his stick in his hand and I pulled two fresh knives. I was regretting not making a grip for them. The blood and gore coating my fingers and forearms made their smooth metal surface difficult to deal with and I found myself having to compensate and losing strength in many of my strikes. Their slim, smooth surfaces were really just ideal for throwing. As soon as I had even a moment of down time I would fix them.

We ran down the stairs and off the porch, but I couldn't see the threat. Maggie was off to the side. Standing with Siddiq, Jesus and Alden.

"What are you doing out here?" she demanded, her eyes flashing angrily as she stared Siddiq down.

Siddiq gestured towards the fence. "I went to check on the prisoners, but the pen was empty."

I could see the body of a walker laying in the grass with a single gunshot to its forehead. He had been one of Maggie's people. I couldn't remember his name, but he was a farmer.

Maggie swung back around to face Alden, her gun still naked in her hand. "Where are the others?" she demanded. Her voice broke with emotion and I took a step closer to her and Alden. I didn't want Maggie to do something she might regret later. Alden was one of the few Saviors I thought might make a decent addition to one of our communities.

Alden shrugged. "They didn't say where they were going they just ran," Alden told her. He was still holding his arms out to the side. He had a better sense of people than I had given him credit for. Maggie was on edge and he wanted to make it clear he wasn't a threat to her or her people.

"And you didn't?" she

Alden snorted humorlessly. "You saw what we mean to Negan and Simon. Which might be a dumb thing to say, it doesn't make us worth much to your people either, but those of us that stayed, stayed. We had plenty of chances to run."

Jesus and Maggie shared a long look. I didn't envy her or the decisions she had to make now. She turned to where the prisoners were fighting to get the gate closed with Dianne's help.

"Will you guys-?" Maggie started to ask.

I glanced towards Morgan and he nodded. "We're on it," I told her and the two of us ran together to help them.

The gates had been left open and a sizable herd had moved in, drawn by the sounds of fighting and all the screaming. These walkers were from the outside. They were older, their body's decaying. The prisoners had managed to get the gates half closed, but the herd was fighting to get inside. There were too many, their tireless bodies pushing against the gates unrelentingly. I could see six. I looked at Morgan. He and I could handle the six and they could get the gate closed once they were inside. What could go wrong?

"Morgan?" I asked, pulling a second knife. "Are you up for it?"

His eyes had a far away look even when he met my gaze. Sweat was beaded at his brow but his movements were still strong and controlled. He nodded once without us having to say another word to one another.

"Open the gate," I called sinking into a fighting crouch.

Dianne swung around to face me, her palms still pressed against gate. "Are you insane?" she asked breathlessly as she fought to keep her weight against it.

"Open the gate and get out of the way." I ordered her, lifting my chin authoritatively.

The saviors looked back and forth together uncomfortably. Their eyes flickered from me to Dianne, uncertain which of us they should listen to.

"Do what she says," Morgan said twirling his stick around him.

Dianne shook her head. "I sure hope you know what you're doing," she said, her fear evident in her voice.

A humorless smirk pulled at one side of my face. "Yeah, me too," I quipped, hoping this wasn't the wrong choice. I wasn't used to having to make choices like this. Risking my own life was one thing, but other people were in charge for a reason. I didn't trust myself to always make the right call for everyone else.

"Once they're through secure the gates as quickly as possible," I instructed Dianne, twirling my blades through my fingers.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Yeah," I went very still, my grip tightening on the blades. "Once it starts..." my eyes flickered towards Morgan. "Don't come near either one of us until it's done." I lifted my gaze and let her see in my eyes why it was so important for them to stay away.

Dianne swallowed, her eyes wide with fear. She nodded too many times and turned to the saviors standing all around her. "Do you understand?" she asked them.

They all nodded but they looked nervous.

"On the count of three," Dianne called authoritatively.

I backed up ten feet, knowing Morgan and I were going to have to give the small herd room to move inside the fence so they could get the gates closed behind the last ones. We also both needed room to fight. When Daryl and I fought together we stayed close. It was going to be better for everyone if Morgan and I gave each other some space.

"One!"

I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, grounding myself. I cracked my neck and tightened my grip on the knives in my hands. I sank into a fighting crouch.

"Two!"

I thought back on all I had done in the last day, how hard I had fought to regain some semblence of myself; some purpose beyond just fighting. I remembered the peace of holding Grace in my arms.

"Three!"

And I let all of that go.

The gates opened and I slapped my knives together drawing the herd past the prisoners and straight for us. I threw my first two knives, sacrificing them to give the herd something to stumble over, making them slower. I drew two more and charged. I stayed on the forward right flank while Morgan stayed to the left. If we kept them close together we wouldn't risk losing any.

I sucked in a breath however as the herd just kept coming. It was bigger than I realized, but there was no going back now.

I kicked the first sending it back into the second before I whipped knives into both their foreheads. I pulled two more. I didn't have enough to keep throwing them. Beside me Morgan was swinging his stick, stabbing it through the walkers foreheads one after another. He would stab one, then spin, clearing it and attack the next.

I stabbed my blade sideways through the temple of the next one. I didn't think I just let myself move. The rhythm felt so natural. Strike, kill, repeat, over and over. Their growls surrounded me in the dark, insulating me from the rest of the world. Nothing matter but this moment and the walker in front of me.

Distantly, I could hear yelling, but it didn't matter. Maybe someone said my name. Nothing mattered until they were all dead. When the last one fell. I was in a fighting crouch, my kukri and a gore covered knife gripped in my fist.

I swung around to see Morgan strike the last one down with his stick. He paced a tight circle, twirling it around himself. His eyes were faraway.

"It's gone," he muttered. "It's gone."

"Morgan," I said his name quietly so I wouldn't startle him.

Dianne and the others were moving towards us and I held a hand up to stop them. She hesitated, her eyes looking back and forth between Morgan and I.

"Morgan," I said again this time louder. "Morgan!"

He jerked in surprise and whipped towards me, striking at me with the stick. I used kukri to block it and slid the wood along the blade up and away from me.

He moved to strike again and I grabbed the stick in my free hand. I used it to jerk him towards me. Our chests were nearly touching.

"Morgan," I said his name again from inches away.

Close proximity favored my fighting style and he finally looked down and saw me. He flinched back, stumbling over his own feet to put distance between us. I didn't take it personally. He was seeing me for maybe the first time since we opened the gate.

"I-" he started to say and he stumbled away. I let him go. When I turned around Dianne and the remaining saviors were staring at me. Some with wary uncertainty and others with what may have been respect. I could decide which made me more uncomfortable.

"It worked," Dianne said breathlessly.

"Yeah," I agreed gasping for air. I bent at the waist as I panted. "No problem."

"Right..." she said, her eyes flickering over to the men surrounding her. None of them looked convinced either.

I grunted and moved back to collect my knives.

"Jo," Daryl's voice called from behind me.

I turned around to face him. His eyes raked over my body, but there was no heat in his gaze. It was clinical, he was checking to see if I was hurt. His eyes ran over the walkers bodies on the ground around me. I followed his gaze and saw what he did. At least fifteen dead walkers at my feet.

"It wasn't just me," I told him defensively.

He narrowed his eyes at me like he didn't believe me. And then he let out a tired sigh. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest.

"Same shit, different day," he grumbled. His voice was a low growl but his hands were gentle against my skin as he cupped my cheeks in his hands. He stared down at me, his eyes incredibly intense. "Are you okay?" he asked me sincerely.

I nodded before I really considered. Then I stopped myself and really took inventory. "Yeah, I'm okay," I promised him honestly.

"Good," he said and he pressed his lips against mine. It was rare for Daryl to be so affectionate, especially when we were surrounded by what amounted to strangers, but I was feeling raw too and I let myself lean into him.

The sun was just creeping over the horizon and as he pulled back I could see the lines of stress between his sky blue eyes. "Dare-" I started to say.

Footsteps came up behind us and we turned together to face Enid. "Have you guys seen Henry?" she asked breathlessly. "He's missing."

I sighed. Daryl was right. Same shit, different day.

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I hope you guys enjoyed the update! It was fun to write from Jo's perspective again. I've missed her!

I have to be honest, I'm really struggling figuring out how I want to tuck Jo into the new season.