THIRTY SEVEN. the bullet

The morning sun peeked through the thin sheet covering her cell door, bags of exhaustion resting underneath her eyes from the night watch she had taken last night after her brothers freak out. When questioning the survivors to figure out if they were trustworthy enough to live next to them, Rick nearly let them stay until he broke out into a fit of raging anger.

When they were forced to leave and Rick was pushed further down the road of insanity, it left the group in a state of disarray. Glenn and Adeline stepped up to the plate of leadership in order to keep things steady and as normal as they could be. But with the missing presence of Daryl Dixon, it was unexpectedly difficult for the widow to get her mind straight.

Adeline missed the comfort of her machete by her side, but then a wave of relief fell onto her when she knew that it would aid the Dixon in surviving. Daryl had told her stories of Merle, and tales of his life before the world went to shit and humanity crumbled. The widow knew that he had a troubled past, how his father treated the two brothers. Of course, Daryl never said it outright, but the moment her caramel eyes rested upon the scares on his back, she knew. Which made her come back to the understanding of why he left.

After the Governor, her nights had become restless. They were filled with the memories of what he had done to her, the places he touched while she begged him not to. It haunted every voice in her mind, a serpent's tongue resting in the inside of her mouth for the next time she saw the man's face. Though biting his ear off gave her a taste of revenge, she knew that the satisfaction wouldn't be filled until he was one of the rotting corpses clinging to the fences outside.

Having enough of her thoughts, Adeline ran a hand through her tangled hair before sitting up from the mattress. Grabbing her boots, she slipped them onto her sock covered feet before pushing herself off of the makeshift bed. The moment her boots cladded with the concrete, Adeline tightened her holster for her pistol on her thigh and strapped the sheath of throwing knives in their rightful place.

The metal of the sleek black pistol skidded against the surface of the table as she took it in her grasp and slid it into the holster. The widow messily tied her hair into a ponytail before placing her husbands' police cap over her thick hair, skimming her eyes over the outfit she wore. A light blue button-up resided on her arms, open just above her rib cage to reveal a tank top underneath, a pair of tan cargo pants fitted her legs - a belt tightened around the loops.

Realization of who she looked like caused a quiet laugh to crawl out of her throat, the clothes resembling one of Shane's infamous outfits. Adeline quickly ran a hand over her face, wiping away the smile before slipping out of the cell and deeper into the prison where she hoped to find her family. Her boots cladded against the thick concrete of the steps, following the sound of voices from within the room outside of the cell block.

"We should be out of here by now." Hershel's voice became clear, Adeline's body entering the room with furrowed brows. Landing upon every member of the group (not including her brother) she nodded at the ones that caught sight of her. Allowing her eyes to trail over to the crippled elder, she found Glenn to be in front of him with his bruised eyes sharpened in determination.

Guessing that they were on the topic of what would happen if the Governor attacked, Adeline shifted on her feet before leaning against the wall next to Maggie. "Where would we go?" The Walsh girl spoke up, her voice causing the elder to turn around to spot her.

"We lived on the road all winter." Hershel reminded.

"Back when you had two legs and we didn't have a baby crying for walkers every four hours." Glenn was quick to retort off of the vets' words, Adeline's eyes turning to him with confusion at the harshness of his tone.

Hershel only shook his head, "We can't stay here."

"We can't run." Glenn finished, his words resulting in Maggie glancing down to the concrete flooring before walking out of the room and back into the cellblock.

Adeline spared a sympathetic look towards the retreating woman, shifting on her feet while pushing her body off of the wall and walking over to the small circle of people. "We're not giving up on this place. Not yet, at least." She spoke up, looking down at the map etched into the floor with chalk. "But we're not risking any more lives. We need each other more." She continued.

"Carl and I are going down to the tombs. We need to figure out where the breach is." Glenn informed the widow, causing her eyes to fall over to her nephew who was already looking up at her.

"Come back in one piece, alright?" Adeline smiled softly, the expression failing to reach her eyes as Carl nodded assuringly in response to her request. "Okay, so who's on watch?" She questioned, turning away from her nephew to look at Glenn with curious eyes.

Once his fell in frustration and a string of curse words threatened to splutter from his mouth, Adeline quickly reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'll take watch, you two be safe." She assured Glenn with a small smile, removing her hand from his arm before making her way out of the room.

Adeline used to find joy in taking watch. It helped her push thoughts away, and it helped her numb the pain she felt. But ever so slowly, she began realizing how boring it truly was to sit in a tower with a rifle. If target practice on the walkers were an option, she was sure the experience would be much more enjoyable. But seeing as it wasn't, and she couldn't fire the gun unless absolutely necessary- she found herself sitting on the ledge of the balcony with unamused eyes.

Time passed as slow as it possibly could, minutes turning into hours of uneventfulness. Adeline had won at least several games of tic tac toe with herself before she grew too bored with her own antics. Scooting away from the balcony, Adeline tiredly made her way out of the guard tower in search of Carol or Axel to take the next shift seeing as she had taken two of her own.

Deciding on taking the rifle with her, she slung the black strap around her shoulders and climbed down the rickety ladder of the tower. Opening the door and stepping out, she felt the gravel crunch underneath her boots just as Glenn drove by her in a silver truck towards the gate. Confusion filtered through the Walsh girl, watching as Michonne opened the fence for him before sliding it back and returning to her spot over by the flipped over prison bus.

Looking across the courtyard, she found Hershel standing with his crutches, a letdown look on his face. Carl lingered around the area as well, sitting at one of the metal benches and cleaning his pistol out. Adeline didn't want to trek too far away from the guard tower, seeing as no one sat up there to wait for the Governor to roll up at their gates.

Sparing one more glance around, the conversation she could've had with Hershel went away as the elder began to walk down into the field. Following his determined eyes, she found her brother on the other side of the fences - mindlessly wandering around with sweat drenched clothes. The smallest tings of worry broke through her veins, shifting on her feet before turning her stare back to Carl sitting at the bench.

For a split second, Adeline had the urge to turn around and find T-Dog to talk too - knowing he was always good at making the tense silence go away. That thought led her to reminder of his recent death, a shaky breath leaving her lips as she turned her head to the concrete of the courtyard in attempts to calm herself. Adeline didn't even notice the tears welling in her eyes until one slid down her cheek, falling onto the pavement.

Numb. It was the feeling she strangely found comfort in while on the road. It kept her alive, and it kept her determined to keep the ones she loved in the same state. But when that numbness faded away, and the emotions she had pushed away for so long rammed into her like a train off of its rails - Adeline Grimes suddenly started feeling again.

The thought scared her, but it also meant she had finally accepted what had happened, and she knew the last thing Shane would want was for her to disregard everyone's feelings just because she didn't want to confront her own personal nightmare.

Adeline took a deep breath before wiping away the tears underneath her eyes, curling her hand around the black strap of the rifle before making her way over to her nephew. "Hey, bud." The aunt smiled softly, sliding onto the empty space next to him. "Didn't you just clean that?" She questioned, motioning towards the gun parts he had sprawled out onto the table.

Carl nodded - "It helps me." He informed, wiping away at the metal with a blue rag. "Shane said he would teach me how to do this. But he's gone, and now it's up to me." He added, sparing a glance his aunts way when he spoke of his uncles name. He expected her to grow angry at him, it was almost like he wanted it to happen.

But Adeline only nodded in response, removing the rifle from her shoulder and perching it against the bench before looking at the pieces. "Then I guess it's a good thing he taught me." She spoke, sliding the pistol out of its holster on her side and laying it on the table.

"What're you doing?" Carl questioned his aunts motives, identifying the pistol she pulled out to be Shanes. He watched curiously as she easily took the glock apart, dissembling it quicker than he could ever do his. "Woah..." He whispered, laying the pieces of his own down and keeping his eyes on her.

Turning to her nephew, she held back a smile at the look of amazement on his face. "Shane would flip out if I didn't take good care of his gun." Adeline spoke, "So, I've learned a few good tips." She continued, removing the spring and barrel out of the sleek black frame

"Can you tell me?" Carl questioned, his words laced with the smallest amount of innocence he had left.

Making her way around the home, her eyes found Shane loading up pieces of wood in the back of his Hyundai he had fixed up on the highway. Furrowing her brows, her boots dug into the dirt as she approached him - "What's this for?" She questioned curiously, sitting her bag down through the car window and into the passenger seat.

He looked up from where he stood, throwing another long board into the back of the vehicle. "It's for the lookout on the windmill. Figured I'd get a head start since Rick is taking his new buddy Daryl out on a date." Shane informed with aggravated eyes.

Adeline blew air out of her cheeks before sitting down inside the wood filled trunk and blocking his way of loading any more in. "Spare a second?" She pleaded, hands reaching out to grab his wrist and carefully pull him closer to her body.

A small smile laced his lips at the feeling, hope that she was finally growing comfortable with him again comforting his sick mind. "What's on your mind?" He inquired, resting one of his hand against the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry... for everything. It hasn't been the same since the CDC, I realize that now. We have to beat this world, Shane. I need us to." Adeline informed with careful eyes, searching his face for any sign of emotion from her words. When she saw a gleam of hopefulness shining in his eyes, her stomach built strength that they could be happy again. "Oh, and you need to teach Carl how to clean his gun." She wore a grin on her lips.

Shane pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, the fabric of her beanie smushing against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly. At the gesture, he chuckled and held her close. The moment was everything that they had ever asked for and wanted, the peaceful silence filled by the melodic chirping of birds.

The memory resulted in a soft smile lacing the widows lips, locking it away in the box in her mind before nodding to her nephew. A shaky breath left her lips, composing herself as she turned to the pieces of their guns and started teaching him - "Every time we have to use these, we need to clean them."

"Every time?" Carl questioned, looking to her.

"Yep." Adeline nodded in confirmation, "When you shoot, if it's raining - or even damp, moisture gets into the barrel. That leads to, and this is exactly what Shane said, pitting and premature barrel water. Now, I don't really know what half of that means but I guessed that it wasn't good news and listened." She spoke, her words resulting in the sound of short lived laughter leaving her nephews throat.

Untying the red bandanna by her side, Adeline thought back to the owner for a split second before pushing the memory away. Holding the frame of the pistol in her hand, Carl followed her movements - "When you clean it, you wanna make sure you put some gun oil on the rag." She informed, gesturing towards the small tin can of it her nephew had brought out.

Once he handed it to her, Adeline tipped the opening and allowed a small amount of oil to sink into the red fabric before giving it back to Carl. Watching him do the same, a small smile curled around her lips before he sat the can back down and turned to his aunt. "Okay, then what?" He questioned curiously.

"Right." Adeline stated, pulling her proud eyes away from him. "Run it between the barrel and the stock. It clears out any trapped moisture or dirt. Then," She continued, wiping down the gun. "You want to-"

"Oil down the barrel." Carl finished the words for her, a determined look on his face, furrowing his brows in concentration and oiled the barrel of his gun. Turning his head to Adeline for confirmation that what he was doing was right, once he received a nod he held his palm out for her gun. Handing it to him, the widow watched with a smile as he did the part for her.

Finishing up, they eventually pieced the parts of their guns back together. The widow knew she would cherish the small memory for as long as she could, storing it safely in her mind where no one could bother it. She had hoped she aided Carl in getting his mind off of what had happened; and the only thing that assured her that she done her job was the proud smile that rested upon his face.

The feeling of being at peace flourished through the courtyard, making Adeline wish that everyone that didn't make it was here to share the moment. It wasn't until Axel passed by the table that she remembered the guard tower vacant of a watcher, worry settling in her veins as she whistled for his attention. "Hey, Axel."

Hearing his name, he stopped in his tracks and walked over to the widow with a smile on his lips. "What can I do for you, pretty lady?" Axel questioned, causing a chuckle to topple from the woman's lips.

"Do you mind finding Carol for me? It's her turn to take watch." Adeline requested, "I meant to do it but I got caught up with cleaning guns." She informed, her head nudging towards Carl who nodded at the former prisoner.

Axel nodded reassuringly at her request - "Don't mind if I do. I think I've started to like that woman an awful lot - you follow me?" He inquired, a suggestive look on his face. "I follow you." Adeline responded, stifling a laugh as he winked before walking away.

DARYL DIXON.

Stumbling into the tree-line, Daryl wore an irritated face as he gripped the handle of his crossbow tightly. Merle followed close behind, anger lacing his features at his younger brothers actions - "The hell you doing, huh? Pointing that thing at me." He continued on his rant, bringing up the situation they had experienced.

Only a few minutes ago, they had saved a family that was surrounded by walkers on a bridge. Merle being Merle, wanted to steal from the family after saving them - but Daryl stopped him by aiming his crossbow right in between his eyes. For the older Dixon, he had never felt more betrayed in his life than the moment.

"They were scared, man. They didn't owe us nothin'." Daryl retorted, pushing away the thick branches they trekked through. There was no destination in sight for the brothers - only traveling until they found a place safe enough to stay the night in.

"You helping people out of the goodness of your heart? Even though you might die doing it? Is that something Sweet Cheeks taught you, huh?" Merle pushed, not even caring enough to use the widows actual name.

Daryl turned around, "There was a baby!"

Merle only scoffed, the two of them stopping in their tracks in a small clearing. "Otherwise you would have just left them to the biters?" He sarcastically asked.

The younger Dixon shook his head, knowing that his brother was talking about the Atlanta situation where he was left for dead."Man, I went back for you. You weren't there. I didn't cut off your hand, neither. You did that." He reminded, pointing the feathered end of his arrow, towards his brother. Way before they locked you up on that roof. You asked for it."

Hearing his words, Merle chuckled and shifted on his feet in the clearing. "You know- you know what's funny to me? You and Sheriff Rick are like this now." He stated, crossing his fingers together to show Daryl. "Not to even mention ole Sweet Cheeks. Right? Hm. I bet you a penny and a fiddle of gold you never told her that we were planning on robbing that camp blind." He reminded, causing his brother to look away.

"It didn't happen." Daryl was quick to speak up.

"Yeah, it didn't 'cause I wasn't there to help you." Merle spoke, adding fuel to the fire of anger.

Daryl scoffed and stepped closer to his brother, "What, like when we were kids, huh? Who left who then?"

"What? Huh? Is that how I lost my hand?" Merle yelled, his voice raspy as it echoed around the dense forest.

"You lost your hand because you're a simpleminded piece of shit!" Daryl cursed, turning away from his brother only for Merle grab him by his shirt and pull him down to the ground.

The fabric ripped, revealing the scars imbedded into the dirtied skin of Daryl Dixon's back. Two tattoos on the right side attempted to hide the marks, but they failed horribly seeing as the scars littered all over the man's frame. Silence engulfed the forest as Merle stumbled back, taking in the familiar sight that he had on his own back. "I didn't... I didn't know he-"

Daryl quickly grabbed his backpack that had fallen off, swinging it around his shoulders to hide the scars from his brothers eyes. "Yeah, he did. He did the same to you. That's why you left first." He informed, hastily picking the arrows off of the ground.

"I had to. I would have killed him otherwise." Merle informed, watching as his brother stood up from the forest ground and started walking away. "Where you going?" He questioned, keeping his eyes on him.

Feeling the machete clashing against his leg, Daryl absentmindedly curled his hand around the handle before turning to face his brother. "Back where I belong." He informed, keeping his palm around the weapon by his side.

"I can't go with you." Merle reminded him, "I let the Governor into Sweet Cheeks room... What he did.."

"It's Adeline. And that's on you. What happened to her." Daryl was quick to speak up, the smallest amount of anger flowing through his veins at the reminder of what the Governor did.

The older Dixon nodded knowingly - "I know that. But I damn near killed the Chinese kid."

"Chinaman gets all emotional, says it not the thing to do and we just follow him along? I mean hell, I saved your life, least you could do is back me up on somethin'. These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are." Daryl ranted, ignoring the presence of the group behind him.

Adeline sighed at Daryls words, "He's Korean." She spoke, only for him to turn his head and looked to her with slanted eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

"He's Korean." Daryl shouted at his brother.

Merle stuttered over his own words, "Y-yeah, whatever!" He yelled, "Doesn't matter, man. I just can't go with you. Even if Adeline fought for me to stay,"

"You know..." Daryl started, "I may be the one walking away, but you're the one that's leaving. Again."

THE PRISON.

Adeline stood next to Beth in the courtyard, a small conversation happening between the two just as Axel walked out of the prison with Carol by his side. "Finally find her?" The Walsh girl spoke up, situating the hat on top of her head as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yep, just telling her about my brother." Axel informed, watching as Adeline bid a quick goodbye to Beth before walking over to the two of them, taking the place on the other side of the man. "Really?"

The former prisoner nodded in confirmation. "Yep. He had a real money problem," He continued on with the story, looking over to Carol who furrowed her bows.

"How so?" The short haired woman questioned.

"He didn't lend me any." Axel answered, resulting in a laugh toppling from Adelines lips. He turned to the girl, playfully shoving his elbow into her arm.

The movement caused the woman to stumble back slightly as he began to speak another sentence, and the moment her feet took a step back - a loud gunshot sounded through the air and a bullet whizzed past Adelines face, imbedding itself into Axels skull.

Blood splattered the side of the widows and Carols face, panic pounding harshly in Adelines veins as the body of the prisoner fell onto the short haired woman. It wasn't long until more bullets sprayed the pavement she stood on, snapping her out of the shocked state. Swiftly, she ran for the nearest cover which turned out to be the guard tower in front of her - her hand curling around the door as she slid into the structure.

THAT BULLET WAS MEANT FOR HER.