- Cass's POV -

The fingers hanging off the edge of the bed are lifeless and still, my eyes not finding the strength to bring themselves to look away. Staring endlessly at the grooves and lines bending around the discolored strips of flesh and bone.

They belong to the sixth person who has died today. He was a father to his teenage son sitting beside me. And now he's nothing, despite me trying my hardest, the symptoms were too much for his dad's body to handle.

"There's no hope for us, is there?" His son asks weakly beside me, making my heart sink lower into the cavern that is my chest. I drag my gaze to meet his, trying to comfort the boy who can't be more than seventeen.

"We have the best people I know out there looking for meds. When they get back from the run, we will be okay." I assure him, trying to seem calm despite my stomach twisting and lurching with anxiety at the idea of them not getting back soon enough. The kid nods, ducking his head down as he sobs slightly.

I rub his back comfortingly. "We can-"

"Cass!"

I stop, whipping my head over my shoulder at my friend's desperate call from the cell hall.

"I'm sorry," I mutter to the kid, scrambling to my feet and rushing out. I run up the stairs to the second level, using the railing to help propel myself up to find Sasha and Glenn struggling with restraining one of our patients as he thrashes.

I drop down to my knees, grab Henry's head, and examine him, realizing he can't breathe.

"Shit hold him down," I order, before running and grabbing an intubation kit, and sprinting back, pushing through my symptoms fighting against me with every step.

My hands trembling, I rip open the sterile packaging and prepare the metal tube as quickly as I can. I nod once at Glenn and Sasha to make sure they are ready before I begin to intubate the patient.

He gags violently, clearly panicking, making the job that much harder. I grimace in frustration before finally getting the plastic tube down his throat to his airway. The man has passed out now, his body going limp. I grab the ambu bag and hook it to the tube before squeezing it so he can get his first breath of air.

His body relaxes fully and both Sasha and Glenn let out sighs of relief, sitting back. I let out a shuddering breath, the illness suddenly making me feel lightheaded. Sasha grabs the ambu bag from me, squeezing it and supplying air to Henry as I fall backward, my chest heaving.

"What happened?" Herschel's voice sounds from behind me, and I can only grunt in response.

"Intubation," I explain hoarsely, blinking away the stars behind my vision. "You should stay away, really Herschel," I say, cringing as I try to stand up.

"We had this argument four times Cassandra. I'm stayin' and that's final." Herschel informs me defiantly as he helps me stand up, his arm around my waist, allowing me to steady myself on my feet.

I shake my head. "We should have at least one doctor alive, for the group," I mumble. If I die, the group won't have anyone resembling a medical professional left and I don't want that to happen. Not with the kids.

"No one is dying, stop talkin' like that. Now come on, you need to have some tea. You two as well," Herschel orders Sasha and Glenn who nod, not trying to put up an argument with the adamant man.

The four of us have been working together seeing patients, Herschel and I take the lead of course, but Sasha and Glenn have been a massive help with everything else. Herschel is carrying the heaviest burden being the only one who hasn't been infected, besides Spencer.

Sasha continues to squeeze Henry's ambu bag as she sips our second round of elderberry tea for the day. "How much longer is he going to live with that?" Glenn asks Herschel and me in the doorway, glancing at the bag Sasha is rhythmically squeezing.

I glance back at Henry and Sasha, a bad feeling settling in my gut. "As long as we're willing," Herschel replies, and I nod weakly in agreement.

Herschel makes me sit down and rest in a cell as he and Glenn do rounds, insisting I've been doing too much work. To be completely objective about it, yes, I have been. Since I sent Rick away late last night, I've been tending to patients nonstop. The day has been a blur of giving tea, taking temperatures, offering the rations of meds, all the while just trying to push through my own symptoms.

I only realize how bad my symptoms have gotten as I sit in the cell alone, staring at the spot I found Rick slumped against the wall last night. Worry flinches through me at the thought of him and I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. He and Carol went on a run today to scavenge a nearby neighborhood for medicine. I know that both of them are more than capable of themselves, but it's not easy to have even more people to have to worry about out there.

Thinking about the expression on his face as he said goodbye last night makes my stomach churn. I've tried to stay stoic and objective as any doctor should be in this situation, but it's so hard. I'm watching the sickness rip through my people, taking their lives one by one. It's even more unsettling knowing I'm infected with the same virus. That, according to the timeline of the symptoms in our patients, should kill me soon. Within the next twelve hours at least.

And Michonne, Daryl, Bob, and Tyreece aren't back yet, God knows when they will be.

This could be it for me.

My throat closes up, the pressure behind my eyes becoming too much as I let my sob come forward. My shoulders jerk forward as I cry silently into my hands so as to not draw attention. I wrap my arms around myself, letting myself feel everything, wishing that it could change.

Just a week ago, our lives were normal. The happiest we have been since the turn and then this happens in days, tearing that happiness apart. It's like my world is slowly encroaching on itself. My friends are gone, and the other ones are slowly dying like I am.

I will probably never see Carl, Sophia, or Judith again. The kids who I have seen, in some form, as my own. I feel like a fucking coward because when I saw Rick last, I told him I loved him but didn't have the guts to tell him I'm in love with him and always have been. How stupid is that? It was our last time speaking and I couldn't face it.

I groan in distress, making me then cough violently. Panic floods through me as I fall into a coughing fit, trying desperately to breathe. The fit ends as I cough up a clot of blood, which I spit on the ground, taking deep breaths, holding a hand to my chest, tears still streaming down my cheeks.

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asks from the doorway, making me jump out of my skin. I turn to him with wide eyes, not having the energy to lie. I just shrug weakly, making him rush in.

"Do you need something? I heard you coughing-" He begins, searching my face but I stop him, my heart lurching in my chest when I finally see his face clearly, and the large bruise on his jaw.

"W-what happened to your face?" I ask breathlessly, worry twisting in me as my hand comes up to gingerly graze it with my finger. If he is getting some sort of another variant of this virus that is causing this type of bruising-

"Oh, that? Yeah, I tripped going up the stairs last night," Spencer says, averting his gaze in what seems to be embarrassment. My eyes squint slightly as I asses him, something in me telling me he's lying. I know from years of making up excuses for the bruises Phillip gave me.

"You fell going up the stairs?" I ask him, hating the sound of my raspy sick voice.

Spencer nods, still not meeting my gaze. "Yeah, I was carrying some stuff and lost my footing. It's embarrassing, okay? Can we just drop it?" He asks, shrugging. Not having the energy to get into yet another argument with him, I just accept it.

"I still don't get how you haven't gotten sick," I admit to Spencer who nods. "I don't know either, but at least I get to help you guys, right?" He says with a slight smile. I push a slight smile forward, which he believes, making his smile grow.

I suddenly realize that the only person who has been able to make me genuinely smile in the past couple of days and seen through the fake ones has been Rick.

"We should get back to work, huh?" I say, sniffling. Spencer mumbles an agreement before helping me to my feet. After blinking past the dark spots in my vision, I push forward, determined to help my patients if it's the last thing I do.

- Rick's POV-

My eyes pull from the road to glance at Carol's watch sitting on the passenger side, making guilt twist deep in my gut. I turn my head back forward to focus on the road, regret pooling in my chest.

I didn't want to send Carol away, but I felt like I had to. She killed two people in cold blood. I get it, her motivations had good intentions behind them, but they didn't even work in the end.

Saying goodbye to someone I've been surviving alongside since the beginning isn't easy. Knowing I could be sending her out to die. This is why I was so relieved to not be in charge anymore. To focus instead on my farming. It was a breath of fresh air, to have that burden released from my shoulders.

And now it's back.

I try to push my guilt and regret down as I arrive back at the prison, relieved to see Maggie's familiar face as she opens the gate for me.

My heart pounding in my chest, I put the car in park on the gravel road and get out, needing to know.

"Carl, Judith? Are they okay?" I shout at Maggie as she jogs towards me. "Yeah, where's Carol?" she asks me, making me sag with relief, looking down for a moment knowing they are okay.

"Cass?" I ask, my heart hammering against my ribcage, fear twisting in me. I look up to see Maggie's expression.

"She's alive. It's bad, but she's fighting it," She tells me, making relief flood through me. "So are Daddy, Sasha, and Glenn," She assures me as I nod.

"Thank god," I mutter, bringing a hand up to run down my face.

"Rick, where's Carol?" Maggie asks me, making me falter. I glance over at her concerned expression.

"It was her. She killed Karen and David," I tell her, making surprise shoot through her expression. "She was trying to stop it from spreading. Tyreese is gonna be back here soon, so I didn't think she should be here." I tell Maggie, who blinks in disbelief, looking down.

"She has a car and supplies, I just couldn't bring her back here. She'll figure it out. I'll tell your dad, don't tell anyone else yet." I tell Maggie.

"Okay," She says, nodding.

"Would you have brought her back?" I ask Maggie after a pause, making her look up at me, conflicted.

"She said she did it?" She checks, and I nod.

"That was the right call," Maggie confirms, nodding, making me feel slightly better about everything. "I don't know if I could've" she admits, shrugging.

"You could've. You've done harder things. Don't doubt yourself, we don't get to anymore," I say, turning and heading back to the car.

"Rick- the fence, the walkers are piling up, it's bad," She tells me. I look over at the usual spot, and the large group of walkers pressing up against it, making it bend unnaturally.

"We need to do something."

"We will." I tell her with finality, closing the driver's door.

Once I get to the administration building, I tear through the doors, calling out for Carl. He finally appears around the corner at my third call, making sharp relief shoot through me.

"You okay?" Carl asks, making me stumble back with overwhelming relief.

"I was gonna ask you that," I say with a slight smile, happy to see my son healthy and alive.

"We're fine," Carl confirms, and I nod.

"No one's sick? you haven't had to do anything?" I check with him, my heart pounding ever so slightly faster in worry that he may have to do something horrible.

"I haven't had to use my gun, Dad."

"And Judith?" I ask, searching his face.

"She's with Beth and Sophia," Carl tells me, and I smile slightly, glad her babysitters are with her.

"Good. Found some food on the run." I tell Carl, tossing him the garbage bag of food for them. "There's a bunch of fruit leather in there, just make sure everyone brushes their teeth after."

Carl nods as he grabs the bag, glancing inside before meeting my gaze again. "Can we come out soon?"

"Not just yet," I say, shaking my head slightly, glancing at the door. I need to check on Herschel and Cass soon. Then figure out the fence.

"Dad, I was around you when you were in the middle of it. And I was around Patrick. I didn't get it, I can help you." Carl urges me, frustration lilted in his voice.

I sigh slightly, getting tired of his desire to put himself in harm's way. "Thanks, but I need you to stay here," I tell him with finality, turning and beginning to walk down the hall.

"I will. But, Dad? You can't keep me from it." Carl tells me, making me stop.

"From what?" I ask, turning to look at him.

"From what always happens," Carl says simply, the sadness behind his eyes making my heart hurt just a little bit more.

"Yeah, maybe. But I think it's my job to try."

- Cass's POV -

After some rounds with Spencer, I realize how bad it has gotten. The majority of the people here are bad.

End stage.

Spencer and Glenn have to take out three bodies to burn outside. I watch helplessly, leaning against one of the support beams, realizing it's all downhill from here.

There's no coming back for some of them. For me too probably. Glancing at the large windows, dread courses through my veins seeing the late afternoon sun, meaning night will come in just an hour, and today will be over. And the group has yet to come back from their run. Hopelessness overcoming me, I hang my head, swaying slightly.

All I ever wanted was for my family to be safe and happy, for them to have somewhere secure where they could thrive without the constant threat of death at every corner. I spent the first few months of the turn alone, silently pleading every day that I would find people to help so I wouldn't be alone.

Loneliness nearly killed me.

Then I found them. And now I could lose them forever.

The door to the cell hall bangs open as Spencer and Glenn come back in, Glenn slumping slightly against Spencer, who still is unaffected by this virus.

A bittersweet and weak smile pulls across my face. If I die, at least I know it wouldn't be alone.

"How are you doing?" Spencer asks me, making me blink up at him, not realizing the daze I had fallen into.

"I'm okay," I tell him quietly, suddenly believing myself. At least we had good parts in there. Along with the death, loss, and trauma, we also had laughter and love. I found my family. And I can never be more thankful for that.

I don't want to leave them. I don't want to make Carl or Sophia have to go through losing another person. I don't want to leave them. But if it was this way, or dying alone in the woods having never found Sophia and never being a part of this family, I would do it this way a million times over.

The slamming of doors beside me makes me jump, realizing that Herschel is closing the cells, keeping everyone in.

"This is just for the time being. Make sure to drink your tea," Herschel orders the people, and I watch, confused.

Before I can ask what he's doing, one of the men stumbles out of his cell, choking on his own blood. He scrambles forwards, his eyes wide, choking relentlessly, clawing at his throat before he slams into one of the other cells, collapsing on the floor.

Spencer holds me back as I try to help him, my heart hammering in my chest. Thrashing against Spencer, I watch desperately as Herschel bends down to try to help him. "What are you doing? Spence get off!" I shout, my voice hoarse, ripping down my sore throat.

"No," Spencer says simply, his grip tight on me.

Herschel helps the man on his side to try to clear his airway. Others watch from their cells in horror. The man stops struggling, his body going limp.

"Everyone, get back in your cells." Herschel orders. "Go on, back in your cells," Herschel repeats, and they do as he says.

Finally, Spencer lets go of me, and I push off him, sending him a glare. Sasha rolls in one of the gurneys to Herschel and the man. I thank her, urging her to get back into her cell, which does with a weak nod.

Herschel, Spencer, and I heave the man onto the gurney. "Rest, Cassandra. Please." Herschel whispers. Using the gurney as support, I shake my head defiantly.

Herschel tilts his head expectantly, making me crack a weak grin. "Doctors are the worst patients, I know," I say through my heavy breathing. "Let's take care of him," I say, and Herschel, realizing there's no getting me away, agrees so he and I wheel the man into one of the meeting rooms to stop him from becoming a walker.

Herschel covers the man with the sheet, holding his knife in one hand, clearly hesitating.

"Do you want...?" I ask, offering to do it myself. Herschel, not looking up at me shakes his head before stabbing the man's forehead through the sheet.

He sighs shakily, dropping the hand that he holds the knife in. "I'll go grab Spencer so he can take him outside, okay?" I tell Herschel softly, placing my hand on his arm for a moment before leaving.

I send Spencer to help Herschel while I keep an eye on some of the patients. Glenn is upstairs with Henry, continuing to give him air, and the patients down here seem to be okay.

Hearing a thud behind me, I turn to see Spencer rushing out of the meeting room with the gurney. I furrow my brows slightly, wondering what his rush is.

Just then, Herschel walks out of the meeting room, looking shaken up. "What's going on?" I question Herschel, coughing slightly as I await his answer.

"I just spoke to Rick," Herschel informs me, causing a flood of shock to go through me as I immediately try to push past Herschel to see him. "He's already gone, Cassandra," Herschel says, making me stop, disappointment flowing through me that I just missed him.

"What about Spencer? He practically flew out of there," I ask, searching Herschel's tired gaze.

"I don't know, he was actin' off the second he walked in on Rick and me," Herschel says shrugging slightly.

Weird.

"What is-" Herschel starts, before brushing past me, making me turn to see what he's worried about. Then I spot Sasha's boots sticking out of the entrance of her cell, making my stomach drop.

Herschel and I ensure she's okay, getting her back into her bed, putting in an IV, and placing a wet towel on her forehead. She had passed out, but she seems to be okay now.

She wakes up an hour or so later, going on about how Herschel and I are insane but probably the only reason she's alive. Herschel stays with her while I go to check on some of the other patients.

As I walk into the cell hall, I hear Lizzy shouting for Herschel, making panic rise in my throat. The adrenaline mixing unpleasantly with my sickness, I'm headed to the stairs just as a walker emerges from one of our cells, growling, headed straight for me.

I barely have time to let out a noise of panic before what used to be Sheila from D block launches herself on me, snapping her jaw. I grunt in effort as I push her away, my limbs tingling with exhaustion already.

I hear the cell doors open, making me grimace with frustration. They really need to stay in there. Before I know it, one of the patients kicks the walker off of me, taking me by surprise. I'm just about to thank her when a gunshot rings behind me, and the fully human patient, Jane, gets shot in the head.

Shock pummels me as I struggle to my feet, seeing another D-blocker behind me getting his arm bitten by yet another walker, making him drop the gun in his hand.

I hear Lizzy screaming out upstairs, sending my adrenaline into overdrive. Diving forward, I grab the gun the man dropped, spinning around on the ground and shooting the walker that had been attacking me. Scrambling, I usher Herschel upstairs to help while I take out the rest of the walkers that had turned in the past couple of minutes.

As they drop lifelessly, I sag in exhaustion, leaning against the railing of the stairs as I pant, desperately trying to get the oxygen back into my lungs.

Spencer bangs through the back door, looking around desperately, before sprinting over to me, grabbing me by the shoulders as I blink at him through my throbbing vision.

"Are you okay?" he asks me desperately and I nod once, cringing slightly in pain as the gun slips from my fingers. Out of nowhere, Maggie comes running from the meeting room Rick broke into to get to me yesterday, looking around wildly.

She turns to me with panicked eyes as I just nudge my head upstairs, making her sprint up them.

"I should-" I start, going to follow when Spencer stops me.

"You've done enough Cass," Spencer urges me, searching my face. Sighing, I shake my head to myself.

"None of you get it. I'm d-done. I want to spend the time I have left helping them." I try to explain tiredly, glancing up to see Herschel and Maggie struggling with something upstairs, Lizzy watching.

"No you not, Cass. They are coming back with the meds any minute-" Spencer starts but I just shake my head sadly, not being able to look at him.

I freeze at the sound of rapid gunfire outside, making my heart drop. My head snaps to look outside the large windows, seeing nothing but the empty night sky.

"I'm sure everything is fine," Spencer says, grabbing my arm, and trying to get me to look at him, but my worry is too overwhelming. "What if it's Phillip-"

"-It's not Phillip." Spencer assures me confidently, making me spare a worried glance in his direction. "They have it under control. You need to rest now," He says, before gently guiding me into my office to lie down.

I'm awoken a few hours later with unbridled happiness because it's Bob's face I see first. The group is back with the meds and treating the few survivors, including me. For the first time in these past horrible and dark days, I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

- the next day -

I bask in the sun and fresh air of the courtyard, taking in a deep inhale and enjoying the fresh oxygen flowing into my lungs.

"Want to help me burn these?" Michonne asks Herschel as she finishes tossing the least walker onto the trailer she attached to the jeep.

"Hell yeah," Herschel responds cheerfully, making me smile widely, feeling extremely grateful that everything has come together.

I'm entirely thankful because we're no longer sick. Glenn is okay. Sasha is okay. I'm okay. We've lost a lot but we will make it out. We always do. My symptoms have been amazingly suppressed by the meds the group got, I feel almost normal again.

"Hey," Spencer speaks up from behind me, making me turn to him with a bright smile.

"Hey!" I respond, pulling him into a hug. After pulling away, Spencer kisses me, a stray hand coming up to caress my cheek as he does. When the kiss ends, we smile at each other for a moment.

"It's such a great day today," he comments and I nod, a light and happy sensation settling in my chest. I get the feeling that everything might just be okay. The sunny and pleasant weather also helps. Feeling the sun on my skin after so long of being shut away with all the sickness and death is a welcomed change.

"We shouldn't waste it." Spencer decides, making me raise an inquisitive brow. He smiles. "Let's go on a walk. I can protect you now if any walkers come by," He grins, tilting his head to the side and waving his gun, making his blonde hair fall forward slightly.

"Yeah keep telling yourself that," I tell him with dry amusement, heading towards the fence. He jogs after me.

"I really think you underestimate my shooting ability. I did have Carol teach me and she's pretty badass," Spencer informs me, making me bark out a laugh as we walk down the gravel pathway.

"What?" Spencer demands through his toothy grin.

"I'm sorry but there is no way you're on Carol's level," I tease, making him scoff dramatically.

"I'm wounded," He laments, clutching at his chest, staggering slightly, making a chuckle erupt from me as I pull back the cable that's holding the hole in the fence together, relieved to see the lack of walkers surrounding the fence, unlike the usual.

I hold the hole open so Spencer can climb through. "Well, then Dr. Adams. Will you be my teacher? Help me with my aim?" Spencer questions, nearing me with a mischievous look.

I roll my eyes. "You're tough outta luck Spence- I'm all booked up. Sorry," I grin, patting his shoulder before walking away and across the small wooden bridge across the stream and into the forest until I reach the familiar hiking trail. Spencer jogs to catch up to me until we're walking side by side.

Our feet patter on the summer leaves of the forest floor as we walk around the perimeter of the prison, within the shade of the treeline. You can see the large yard and group of cement buildings through the single layer of trees we're walking behind.

"So, you wanted to stroll past the gates just for fun?" I question Spencer teasingly, who smiles, looking away, seeming... nervous?

"No, there is just something important I need to ask you," He says, turning to me seriously. I blink at him in surprise as he grabs my shoulders gently, stopping me. Nerves bubble up in my stomach at his expression- suddenly fearing the commitment behind his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, looking down and shaking out his hands.

"It's just- I wanted to ask if you're... in love with me." He says calmly, not meeting my gaze. "Like I'm in love with you," He tells me quietly, still not looking at me, fiddling with something on his rifle.

Guilt twinges in my chest, and I avert my gaze, glancing back at the prison. I can see from here Rick and Carl walking down to the farm together. One of whom is the sole reason I cannot and probably will not ever be able to love Spencer back.

"I- I don't know what to say," I breathe awkwardly, twisting my hands together, my face contorted with a grimace. I spare a glance at Spencer's fallen expression.

"I'm sorry Spence. I've enjoyed our time together and I like you a lot- but I'm not... there. Not yet. It wouldn't be fair to you to lie that I am," I explain gently, my hand coming to touch his forearm softly but he jerks it away, making me flinch. His eyebrows furrow and he turns so I can't see his expression.

"I don't get it. I did everything right," He seethes, his frustrated and confused gaze meeting mine, an unfamiliar darkness behind them.

My eyebrows knit together, feeling awful, raw anxiety jolting through me. That old yet familiar feeling of guilt and fear I felt when I upset Phillip is beginning to creep up on me.

"Is there someone else?" He asks, his voice low. Dark. My eyebrows shoot to my hairline and I let out a scoff, shaking my head in disbelief.

"I may not be in love with you Spencer but I never cheated on you," I spit with disgust, hating that he can even ask me that. I suddenly feel like I can't recognize him as he glares back at me, anger clearly wrenching his expression.

"I didn't say you cheated. I'm asking if there's someone who is stopping you from loving me." He clarifies slowly and clearly, tilting his head intimidatingly, those dark brown eyes of his boring into mine.

Gulping, my eyes blink rapidly and I have to look away, guilt ripping my insides. I never wanted him to know. I thought I would be over him by now. I tried.

"I fucking knew it. It's Rick isn't it?" He questions bitterly, the words sending lightning bolts of shock to jolt through my veins. My head snaps to his, my eyes wide.

How-

"I should've listened. I was clearly fucking stupid because I thought you actually might love me back," Spencer breathes, defeat and coldness laced in his harsh tone as he holds a disbelieving hand to his forehead. I furrow my brows, confusion overcoming me.

I can't focus on my train of thought at the abrupt sound of roaring engines behind me. I whirl around, my stomach bottoming out when I see him.

Phillip.

With a group of about six trucks and a fucking tank that just pulled up to the gates. The group of people file out of their respective vehicles, armed heavily. My chest begins to heave, my breathing quickly becoming laborious at the sight in utter panic.

No. Not now- after everything we can't-

Spencer incoherently mutters to himself and I turn around quickly, adrenaline prickling through my limbs, making them feel numb as I shake his shoulders roughly. "Spence we need to go!" I urge him desperately, glancing behind my shoulder to see Phillip's new army readying their weapons.

Spence just continues to look down, anguish written across his features as he shakes his head with regret.

"Spencer! What are you doing?! Phillip is here, we need to go!" I shout, searching his face desperately. What is he doing?

No one else knows- we aren't prepared at all. We need to warn them- oh god the kids-

"Spence-"

I'm cut off in surprise as he grabs both of my wrists with one hand, roughly pulling me towards him. My chest shudders in shock as I gape up at him in bewilderment. His iron grip is digging into the bone of my wrists unpleasantly, making me grimace slightly.

Before I can question him, he pulls out a walkie-talkie from the pocket of his jeans, switching it on with his teeth as his other hand holds my wrists tightly. I blink at him in confusion. Where the fuck did he get that?

He clears his throat, pressing a button before-

"This is Cobra reporting. In position. Bunny secured. Over."

"Copy that"

___

A/N: Spencer: ~ It's me, hi! I'm the problem, it's me ;) ~