〰

[TW: Emetophobia warning.
I'll put a * where it starts and ends for those who'd like to skip it!]

Elodie sat in the cramped backseat of the green car, squeezed between Glenn and Beth. The vehicle bounced and jostled over the rough terrain, every bump pressing them closer together. Her fingers absentmindedly played with a tangle toy she found in the seat pocket, twisting and turning the plastic pieces. It was a small distraction, but it helped keep her mind off the fear that lurked beneath the surface.

Maggie was in the driver's seat, her hands gripping the wheel tightly as she navigated the rough terrain. Beside her, Hershel sat with a map unfolded on his lap, his eyes scanning the route ahead. Despite the tension, he occasionally glanced back to check on the others, offering a reassuring smile whenever Elodie caught his eye.

Glenn, seated to Elodie's left, tried to make himself as comfortable as possible in the cramped space. His arm was pressed against hers, and he occasionally adjusted his position to give her a bit more room. Beth, on Elodie's right, did the same, her own fidgeting mirroring Elodie's as she picked at the frayed edge of her sleeve.

Earlier, Beth had surprised Elodie with the sign language book she had saved from the dying farm. Elodie's eyes had lit up with excitement, immediately demanding they continue their "lessons."

For about two hours, they practiced signs with Glenn and Hershel eventually joining in, while Maggie focused on following Daryl who led the way ahead.

Now, Elodie had learned a bunch of new signs. She was thrilled about it, even though she probably wouldn't need to use them anytime soon. Learning a new language excited her, and she was actually good at it. Plus, she wasn't learning alone.

After those two hours, Elodie had taken a small nap, having rested on Beth's shoulder the entire time until a sudden bump jolted her awake, and she wasn't able to fall back asleep. She hadn't been sleeping deeply enough to dream anyway, at least not that she could remember.

She then annoyed Glenn by practically crawling over him to rummage through the back seat pocket of Maggie's seat, retrieving a tangled toy that now held her complete focus as she tried to untangle it.

Her eyes wandered from the toy to Daryl and Carol ahead of them. Since hitting the road again, she'd only spoken to Daryl once—during a quick pit stop for Glenn's bathroom break. It was a brief exchange of "you doin' okay in there?" and "yeah," before they were back on the move.

A honk from the car behind them prompted Maggie to bring their vehicle to a stop. Elodie twisted in her seat to peer out the back window, watching as Rick, Lori, T-Dog, and Carl got out of their car. In a split second, everyone in the green car scrambled out too, assuming trouble. Elodie hopped out from Glenn's side as he closed the door behind her.

She saw Daryl asking Rick something, to which Rick replied, "Running on fumes."

Getting her hearing aids didn't mean that she was able to hear everything again. As always, if people were too far away, her aids wouldn't pick up the sounds and she simply wouldn't hear what was being said. That had always been frustrating for her, but it simply couldn't be fixed.

So, she quickened her pace and walked over to stand by Daryl, as everyone seemed to be gathering over there and she knew she would be able to hear most things then.

"We can't stay here," Maggie said with a sigh, scanning the treelines.

"We can't all fit in one car," Glenn murmured somberly.

Rick turned to Maggie, his blood-smeared face making Elodie grimace slightly, though she quickly closed her mouth after the cold wind hit her teeth. It was a bit scary to look at. "We'll have to make a run for gas in the morning."

"Spend the night here?" Carol asked warily, huddling in her cardigan.

"I'm freezing," Carl complained, shivering as Lori wrapped her arm around him and rubbed his chest to warm him up.

"We'll build a fire, yeah?" she reassured him, sucking in a breath out of being cold herself.

He wasn't being dramatic, it really was cold. Elodie herself was shivering quite a bit as well, slightly hopping from foot to foot in an attempt to warm herself up. Her mother used to tell her to run laps around the house when she complained of being cold, and one time she even had to do it, because her mother couldn't stand her complaining anymore. It did work, though. Elodie had been a sweaty mess by the time she was done. But she wasn't really feeling up to running ten laps around the car at the moment.

"You go out lookin' for firewood, stay close," Daryl said. "Only got so many arrows. How you doin' on ammo?" he asked Rick.

"Not enough," he grumbled in response.

Maggie shook her head. "We can't just sit here with our asses hangin' out.

Elodie screwed her brows together. "Asses hangin'—?"

"Hey," Daryl scolded, lightly tapping her shoulder.

"Watch your mouth," Hershel warned Maggie, nodding over to Elodie, who quickly pressed her lips together. "Everyone stop panicking and listen to Rick."

Elodie wasn't panicking at all. She simply glanced at Daryl, tugging at his sleeve to get his attention.  "What's asses hangin' out mean—"

He cut her off with another tap on her shoulder "None of ya concern. Nothin' ya should be sayin', too."

"But why?"

"Not now."

Elodie grumbled under her breath, taking a few steps back. When would someone explain why she couldn't say certain things while everyone else could?

"All right, we'll set up a perimeter," Rick declared, "In the morning, we'll find gas and some supplies. We'll keep pushin' on."

"Glenn and I can go make a run now, try and scrounge up some gas," Maggie offered.

Rick shook his head, holding out a hand. "No, we stay together. God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car."

"Rick, we're stranded now," Glenn pointed out, his eyes darting between the cars and Rick.

Elodie nervously bit her lip, tugging her sweater sleeves down, ignoring the few blood splatters on the fabric. She exhaled, watching her breath form a small cloud in the cold air. She was starting to think those laps might not be such a bad idea after all.

"I know it looks bad, we've all been through hell and worse, but at least we found each other," Rick said, slightly leaning forward as he spoke. "I wasn't sure—I really wasn't, but we did. We're together. We keep it that way. We'll find shelter somewhere. There's gotta be a place."

Elodie glanced around as everyone exchanged looks before focusing back on Rick, who paced back and forth, searching for a plan or words.

For some reason, Rick seemed to have a way with words, knowing exactly what to say and when. His words impressed people, or impacted them greatly. He was able to sway opinions, able to encourage others. He knew what needed to be done, and Elodie admired it, because she couldn't do all of that.

"Rick, look around," Glenn pressed, stepping forward to adress Rick. "Okay? There's walkers everywhere. They're migrating or something."

"There's gotta be a place not just where we hole up, but that we fortify, hunker down, pull ourselves together, build a life for each other," Rick urged, his arm swinging up and down with the gun, causing Elodie to step slightly behind Daryl. She wasn't particularly afraid that Rick would shoot, but still, it made her uneasy. "I know it's out there, we just have to find it."

"Even if we do find a place," Maggie began, "and we think it's safe, we can never be sure. For how long?"

Elodie sighed, kicking at the dirt with the tip of her shoe. Maggie had a point. They had lost their first camp, the C.D.C., and the farm. Nothing had lasted.

"Look what happened with the farm," Maggie continued. "We fooled ourselves into thinking that that was safe."

Hershel turned to his eldest daughter, his brows furrowing. "We won't make that mistake again."

"We'll make camp tonight," Rick decided, pointing behind Elodie. She turned, half-expecting to see a walker but saw a small stone structure instead—a little wall shielding a space where they could sleep, "over there, get on the road at the break of day."

Carol stepped closer to Daryl, leaning in to catch his eye. "Does this feel right to you?"

Confused, Elodie looked up at Carol, wondering why she was asking Daryl specifically. She didn't get an answer, as Daryl merely looked at Carol without saying a word.

"What if walkers come through, or another group like Randall's?" Beth asked, worry evident in her voice.

"You know I found Randall, right?" Daryl told Rick. "He had turned, but he wasn't bit."

Again, Elodie looked at Daryl with confusion. She knew Randall had been murdered by Shane, and he hadn't been bitten by a walker. So how come he turned? Had she imagined the whole thing? Had Shane not snapped his neck after all? Was she going crazy?

"How's that possible?" Beth asked.

"Rick, what the hell happened?" Lori joined. "Elodie told us Shane—" She swallowed before saying the following two words, "killed him."

Rick's gaze briefly settled on Elodie, making her lower her head with a faint blush. She didn't want anyone to think she had lied.

"Shane did kill Randall," Daryl said, nodding at Lori. "Just like he always wanted to."

"And then the herd got him?" Lori asked, barely managing to get the words out.

Rick remained silent, staring into the distance. Everyone watched him, waiting for an answer. Carefully, he spoke, "We're all infected."

A tense silence fell over the group, and Elodie felt a chill run down her spine—different from the cold chills she'd felt since stepping out of the car.

"What?" Daryl asked.

"At the CDC," Rick started, "Jenner told me. Whatever it is, we all carry it."

Daryl brought a hand to his face, groaning inside of it as he turned around. Elodie watched him, her face pale from shock. If she had understood it right, they were all walkers deep down. They all had a part of the walkers in them.

The hungry, vicious beings that had taken her brother and mother from her were now a part of her.

She tuned out everything anyone else said next, staring blankly at the ground, her arms limp at her sides. Is that how Randall turned anyway, despite Shane snapping his neck? That meant she hadn't imagined it.

Secretly, she had hoped she had. She had hoped she was going crazy, just so it would mean Shane hadn't actually killed Randall in front of her eyes, followed by him hunting her down like she was prey.

At the thought of Randall, bile rose in her throat. She could only imagine the sickening snap his neck had made. The image of Randall's body limply thudding to the ground flickered before her eyes, and she quickly pressed a hand over her mouth.

They were all infected. Shane killed Randall. The walkers killed Jimmy.

The walker is a part of me.

*

The world around her blurred as her vision tunneled, focusing solely on the ground beneath her feet. Her thoughts spiraled, each one darker and more terrifying than the last. She felt the bile rising in her throat, a sour taste filling her mouth.

With a choked sob, she lurched a few steps away from the group. She barely made it to the edge of the road before she doubled over, the contents of her stomach spilling onto the ground in a violent heave. Her body shook with each retch, tears streaming down her face.

*

She could hear faint murmurs of concern behind her, but she couldn't focus on any of them. Her entire world had narrowed down to the overwhelming sensation of sickness and the dark thoughts swirling in her mind. Her small hands gripped her knees as she tried to catch her breath, her chest heaving with the effort.

Daryl, always quick to react and observant of Elodie's distress, was by her side almost instantly. He knelt beside her, placing a steady hand on her back as she continued to heave. His touch was grounding, a silent reassurance.

"Hey, hey," he said gently, patting her back lightly as she slowly stood up straight, a few stray tears lingering on her cheek. "Breathe, a'right? You're fine."

"Sorry," she murmured hoarsely, about to wipe her face with her sleeve before Beth quickly handed her a tissue. Swallowing, Elodie accepted it and wiped her face clean. She felt raw and exposed, as if every fear she had buried deep inside was now laid bare for everyone to see.

"You're fine," Daryl repeated. "C'mon, let's sit ya down."

Nodding, Elodie pressed her lips together as she allowed Daryl to gently guide her to the side of the road. She felt the cool ground beneath her and the weight of exhaustion settling in her limbs as she settled down on the ground. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knees, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the tissue.

〰

The flames of a fire danced and crackled, casting flickering shadows on the faces around Elodie. She sat huddled by the warmth, hugging her legs to keep herself warm. Everyone seemed to have someone—Carl nestled in Lori's arms, Beth leaning against Hershel, and Glenn with his arm protectively around Maggie. Elodie had nothing but her dirty, thin sweater to keep her warm.

The warmth of the fire didn't quite reach her, and she shivered, more from the feeling of isolation than from the cold. She glanced around, feeling like an outsider despite being surrounded by people.

Elodie reached for a small pile of sticks nearby. She picked one up and held it close to her ear, snapping it with a quick motion of her fingers. The sharp crack was satisfying, a reassurance that her hearing aids were indeed working. She picked up another stick, repeating the action.

Snap.

She sighed with relief each time the sound reached her ears. Getting her hearing aids back felt like regaining a piece of herself, a connection to the world she had sorely missed.

As she broke each stick, she absentmindedly tossed the broken twigs into the fire, watching the flames leap and crackle. She had been watching Daryl do the same, so she assumed no one would mind if she did it.

The fire consumed the twigs eagerly, the flames flaring up with each new piece of fuel. Elodie stared into the flames, losing herself in their dance.

"We're all infected. Whatever it is, we all carry it."

Rick's words from earlier that day had been echoing in her mind for hours, never stopping. He had known since the C.D.C. According to Rick, Jenner had told them that everyone on earth had been infected with some kind of virus that, once you died, turned you into a walker. A bite wasn't the only thing that could be the cause of the turn anymore.

Elodie wondered if she would die. If she would turn into a walker. The thought had haunted her ever since she learned the truth. It didn't matter how careful they were, how many walkers they killed, or how far they ran. Death was inevitable, and when it came, they would all turn into those mindless, hungry creatures.

She tried to imagine it—her own body, lifeless and cold, reanimating into something monstrous. Would she be aware? Would she remember who she was? The idea terrified her more than anything else. She didn't want to become one of them, a danger to her friends, a danger to herself.

She snapped another stick, the sound sharper this time, cutting through the murmurs of conversation around the fire. She tossed the broken twig into the flames, watching it catch fire and burn to ash. If only their infection could be burned away so easily.

Her mind wandered to Jamie. She remembered the look in his eyes, once so full of life and then empty, driven by only one instinct—to feed. She knew she would never rid herself of that image. She would never forget what his face looked like, the way Amy's blood had smeared all over his chin, covering the scar he had gotten by falling off his bike when he was younger. That day, that night, would always be engraved in her mind.

Lost in her thoughts, Elodie didn't notice when she snapped another stick with more force than intended. The broken twig flew through the air and landed squarely on Daryl's shoulder, startling him.

Startled, he glanced over at Elodie, who seemed lost in her thoughts, staring into the flames with a distant look in her eyes.

After a beat of silence, Daryl slowly got up from his spot across the fire and moved quietly to sit beside Elodie. He didn't say a word as he settled down.

The warmth from the fire now seemed to reach her a little more, not just physically but in a way that eased the chill of isolation she had been feeling.

"You doin' alright?" he asked her.

Elodie had been unusually quiet all day and evening. She had been staring at her shoes, picking at her fingers, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Daryl didn't know the full extent of what Shane had done to her, but he knew it must have been bad.

She had witnessed Shane snap Randall's neck in a blink of an eye and had come back to the house late at night, covered in cuts and in a state of utter distress. She had probably fled after seeing Shane kill Randall, but there had to have been more to the story.

Elodie shifted slightly, her eyes briefly meeting his before flickering back down to her hands. "It's cold," she murmured softly, almost to herself.

"That's not what I meant."

She hesitated, then glanced up at him, her eyes catching the flickering light of the fire. Her fingers toyed nervously with the hem of her sweater. "I don't know," she whispered. "I'm scared."

Daryl nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on the fire as he listened to Elodie. He knew fear well—how it nestled deep in your gut, gnawing away at your insides until it felt like there was nothing left but that cold, gripping dread.

He waited for her to continue, not pressing her but giving her the space to speak when she was ready.

Elodie swallowed, trying to find the right words to explain the chaos inside her. "I keep thinkin' 'bout Jamie," she began softly, her voice barely audible above the crackling of the flames. "About what happened to him... and what might happen to me."

She glanced at Daryl briefly before looking back at the fire. "Seein' him like that... I couldn't do anythin'. I couldn't help him. And now I'm scared that... I might end up like him."

"Ya ain't gonna end up like him," Daryl said firmly, his voice steady and reassuring. "We'll keep ya safe. Ain't gonna let that happen."

She nodded slowly, absorbing his promise. "I hope so," she murmured. "I just—don't wanna be like that. To hurt people."

Daryl turned to look at her directly. "Ya ain't gonna hurt nobody," he insisted, his voice firm but gentle.

At those words, she firmly shook her head. "I hurt Shane."

"That ain't on you," he said firmly. "We all gotta make choices. Sometimes they ain't easy, but they're what keep us goin'. Shane made his, and ya made yours."

Elodie's fingers clenched tightly around the hem of her sweater, her gaze dropping to the ground. "I know, but... it's hard to forget," she admitted softly. "He was... he was a friend once. And then... everythin' changed."

Daryl nodded slowly. "People change," he murmured, almost to himself. "Ain't nothin' we can do 'bout that sometimes."

"D'ya think I'll change?" Elodie asked quietly.

Daryl considered her question thoughtfully, his gaze shifting from the fire to meet hers. "Maybe," he replied evenly. "But that don't gotta be a bad thing."

She furrowed her brow. "How?"

"Sometimes," he began, "change can make ya stronger. It ain't about losin' who ya are, but growin' into who ya need to be."

"Stronger?" she echoed softly. "I don't feel strong right now."

Daryl leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful as he looked at her. "Strength ain't just 'bout muscles or fightin'," he explained. "It's 'bout here." He tapped his chest lightly over his heart. "An' here." He gestured to his head. "It's 'bout keepin' goin', even when everythin' seems like it's fallin' apart."

She let go of her sweater, wiping her hands on her jeans. Slowly, she nodded, lifting her head slightly to look at the fire. "Okay," she said, showing Daryl she understood.

Suddenly, everyone perked up at the sound of rustling leaves deep in the forest, followed by the snap of a twig—not Elodie's doing this time.

"What was that?" Beth asked quietly.

Daryl patted Elodie's back gently before rising, hand reaching for his crossbow. "Could be anythin'. Could be a raccoon, could be a possum."

"Or a walker," Glenn added.

Or maybe just a dog.

Please let it be a dog.

"We need to leave," Carol said, her voice tinged with panic as she scanned the surroundings.  "I mean, what are we waiting for?"

"Which way?" Glenn asked.

People were now getting to their feet, but Elodie stayed put. She doubted she'd see any better standing up, anyway.

"It came from over there," Maggie said, nodding her head over to the trees behind them.

"Back from where we came," Beth noticed, sticking close to Hershel.

"Last thing we need is for everyone to be runnin' off in the dark." Rick turned to face them all, his tone decisive. "We don't have the vehicles. No one's travelling on foot."

Another snap of a branch in the distance made everyone spin toward the trees again, and Elodie went right back to clutching her sweater. It was so dark that you couldn't see any further than a few feet ahead.

"I'm not..." Maggie started, "I'm not sittin' here waitin' for another herd to blow through. We need to move, now."

"No one is going anywhere," Rick hissed in response.

They all fell into a momentarily silence, and Elodie's eyes flicked from person to person, trying to figure out what each of them were thinking. She didn't think leaving was smart. It was pitch dark; they couldn't see a thing—that included walkers. More could die out there.

"Do something!" Carol pleaded, her desperation cutting through the air, snapping Rick out of his calm.

"I am doing something!" Rick shot back, locking eyes with Carol. "I'm keepin' this group together, alive. I've been doing that all along, no matter what—I didn't ask for this! I killed my best friend for you people, for Christ's sake!"

What?

Rick's outburst left the group in stunned silence. The flickering firelight cast long shadows on their faces, reflecting the deep tension etched over them. Elodie's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed Rick's confession. He'd killed Shane.

"You saw what he was like, how he pushed me," Rick continued, his voice lower now, "how he compromised us, how he threatened us. He staged the whole Randall thing, led me out to put a bullet in my back. Chased Elodie through the woods like an animal—he gave me no choice! He was my friend, but he came after me."

Carl broke into sobs, Lori wrapping him in a tight embrace, letting him cry into her shoulder. Rick watched with a weary expression, running a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply.

All Elodie could do was stare at the ground, watching the soft flickering of the flames reflecting on the dirt. She had known Shane was unstable, but the idea that he had wanted—and tried— to kill Rick was beyond unsettling.

"My hands are clean," Rick continued, his eyes heavy. He paused, waiting for any response, but none came. "Maybe you people are better off without me. Go ahead. I say there's a place for us, but maybe—maybe it's just another pipe dream. Maybe—maybe I'm foolin' myself again. Why don't you—why don't you go and find out yourself? Send me a postcard."

The group remained silent, locked in a collective stare at Rick.

"Go on, there's the door," he pressed on, lifting his eyebrows and pointing towards the road. "You can do better? Let's see how far you get."

Only the crackling of the fire filled the air, the forest around them eerily quiet. No one moved. No one spoke. They simply stood there.

Rick scanned the group, his gaze hardening as he saw the doubt and fear in their eyes. He took a deep breath. "No takers?" he said, his voice breaking the silence like a hammer. "Fine. But get one thing straight." He paused, making sure everyone was listening.

"You're staying, this isn't a democracy anymore."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

it's the end of season two ya'll how are we feeling!!!!! i might do a chapter of them on the road, and then we'll get to the prison (insert happy emoji times three) !!!!!!

ok thanks for reading pls comment bye love u bye