The gruff man's blue eyes dart between me and the guy I have my knife pressed against. "Don't get your panties in a damn twist, we're just lookin' for someone," He explains roughly, still aiming his crossbow at my forehead.

"We're looking for a little girl, with short ginger hair and a blue shirt with a rainbow on it," The blonde adds quickly, her intelligent eyes darting to the house, making protectiveness flash through me.

"If you dare to go in there, I will slit his throat." I snap fiercely, making the blonde freeze, her gaze hardening on me. The guy gulps nervously beside me, my knife still pressed lightly against his throat.

This could be Sophia's group, but she didn't go into great detail about other people besides her mom, Rick, and Carl. I don't want to risk giving her away to potentially dangerous people. I couldn't live with myself if they hurt her.

"I haven't seen any little girls," I growl, uneasiness going through me as they exchange disbelieving looks. It's my own fault, I'm awful at lying.

"We followed her tracks, next to larger ones leading back here," The crossbow guy grumbles, narrowing his bright blue eyes at me. I swallow thickly, panic surging through me being put on the spot like this.

"Must have been me and my husband's tracks," I shrug nonchalantly, hoping they will be more intimidated if they think I have a husband who could be back any minute.

"You have tiny-ass feet then," The gruff guy growls flatly, staring me down through his hair, pointedly looking down at my adult-sized feet. He knows I'm lying.

Shit. That was stupid.

"Fine. What's her name then?" I ask defiantly, shifting on my normal-sized feet, my stomach turning nervously. I may have a slight advantage with a hostage, but it's still three to one.

"Sophia." The blonde responds carefully, her eyes studying me, her hand still wrapped around her pistol.

Squinting my eyes, I take a second to study two of them. "Her mother's name?" I question, my eyebrows raising, the hope that this may be Sophia's people steadily rising in me.

"Carol," The gruff guy responds, almost immediately. Huh.

Okay, moment of truth.

"Is her dad with you?" I ask, slightly taken aback at the disgust that flashes across both of their expressions.

The blonde huffs. "That monster died a few days ago," She spits, clearly getting restless, glancing back at the house.

Monster?

My eyes widen in realization when I think back on the way Sophia acts. Over-apologizing is a key indicator of an abused child. Someone who was hurt anytime she made a mistake.

Rage boils in my veins at the idea of anyone hurting her. Knowing all too well how it feels, it breaks my heart that she's had to go through that at such a young age.

I remove the blade from the baseball cap guy's throat and push him forward roughly. The other two readjust their aim as he stumbles away from me, rubbing his neck, his eyes wide.

"I'm going to go inside to check with her. To be sure." I announce sternly as they exchange glances before nodding in agreement. "Anyone moves, or tries anything if she doesn't know you, I will kill you." I threaten, forcing my voice to not waver.

Seeing that they are letting me go, I slowly head up the steps of the porch and open the door, closing it softly behind me. Sophia looks up from the couch, tears glistening on her cheeks.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly, my eyebrows crinkling with concern as she nods with a sniffle.

"I heard voices outside. who are they, Cassie?" She asks quietly, and I crouch down to meet her eye-to-eye.

"I didn't ask for their names but they say they have been looking for you. I want to make sure you recognize them before I let you go, okay?" I explain carefully, her eyes lighting up at my words as she quickly nods, eagerly following me to the boarded window.

She peeks through one of the slits between the wood planks and squeals in excitement. "It's them!" She exclaims, my heart instantly soaring with happiness for her. I grin and grab her hand, opening the door, the hot Georgia air washing over me.

The group looks over, immediately raising and aiming their weapons at me. Sophia barrels out from behind me, sprinting over to the group. The gruff man drops his weapon and falls to his knees to hug her, a smile breaking out across his tough exterior. The other guy and the woman smile at each other, lowering their weapons as they go to hug Sophia as well. I swallow thickly, tears springing to my eyes.

They care so much about her.

The trio talks softly to her for a bit and starts to walk away, guiding her with them. I smile, that familiar feeling of happiness for a child and her family flooding through me as I turn around, going back into the house.

I really need to get this mud off me.

Attempting to smother the bittersweet disappointment ebbing at me, I remind myself that she will be reunited with her family.

Still. I'm going to miss that sweet girl.

I barely get through the threshold when something slams into me. Turning to see Sophia hugging my lower half, I smile and pull her away so I can crouch down to hug her properly. "You tell your mom that I say you are a great girl, and I'm very happy you have been reunited. Okay?" I order softly, a stray tear falling down my cheek.

Sophia hugs me tighter. "I don't want to leave you," Sophia sniffles against me, making me squeeze her back tightly, feeling the same way before releasing her and standing back up.

"Why don't you come with us?" Sophia suddenly suggests, making me look down at her with surprise. Sophia glances over her shoulder at her group, who are watching us with careful eyes at the bottom of the porch steps. The blonde crosses her arms skeptically.

"She's alone here, and she's a good person I promise. She saved me from the walkers. Please let her come!" Sophia begs her people, who glance at each other uneasily before looking back at me.

I swallow away the lump in my throat, standing up straight, my stomach fluttering nervously, making me feel a little bit ridiculous. "I-I can help your group. I'm a surgeon. Pediatric, but I still know-" I start, trying to prove my case as the baseball cap guy I held hostage cuts me off.

"-Wait, a pediatric surgeon?" He asks, the corners of his mouth turning up with amazement, his eyebrows raised.

I nod as the others gape back at me in shock.

"We have a kid who's been shot! He needs surgery and the best we have is a vet. We could definitely use your help," The blonde breathes, making my heart sink.

"Carl?" Sophia's small voice wavers from beside me, her worried tone making my heart break in my chest.

"I'm here to help, whatever you guys need," I respond earnestly, my heart pounding with anticipation.

"Alright, we don't have much time," The gruff guy orders, and I nod quickly, dashing inside to grab my duffel bag of clothes and a small pouch of the few medical tools I kept. Sparing one last glance at the cottage that I've been surviving in for the past few months, I turn and leave.

The five of us head off north, making our way back to their farm as quickly as possible.

As we trek through the woods, I learn the names of the trio. Daryl the gruff crossbow-wielding one, Andrea the gun-loving blonde, and Glenn the one I held hostage.

Falling back to walk beside Glenn, I apologize for holding my knife to his throat and threatening to kill him.

"It's fine, I get it. As long as you don't do it again, we're cool," Glenn responds good-naturedly, making me grin.

"Deal."

___

We arrive at the farm and I'm instantly taken away by the beauty of it.

Beyond the lush Georgia woods is a large sprawling farm. The green hills enclose a chicken coop, a deteriorating barn in the far corner of the property, and right in the middle, an impressive white farmhouse, the dirt road we're walking on leading right up to it. It's like a small valley of heaven, not a walker in sight.

A little bit away from the main house is a cluster of trees, and underneath it, an RV is parked with a group of people gathered around it. A few tents are hitched nearby as well. Excitement shoots through me seeing evidence of other real people, realizing I really am no longer alone.

The sun is starting to set on the horizon, casting a beautiful golden glow across the farm, the sticky air is starting to cool down, cicadas buzzing loudly in the distance.

As we near the group by the RV, we hear shouts as a figure staggers from the group, staring at us. The figure freezes before sprinting down the dirt road toward us, a couple of others following. As the person gets closer, Sophia squeals with excitement before running to meet her.

Her mother.

Tears spring in my eyes as Carol cries out Sophia's name before scooping her up in her arms, collapsing on the ground, and sobbing with relief. A fond smile spreads across my face, my chest warming with happiness for them.

I'm a sucker for reunions.

After years of seeing that in my job, I never got tired of it. The relief, the comfort, and the absolute happiness overwhelming them so much they can't stand. It's the best.

We decide not to bother them and continue on, Daryl staying back to talk to Carol as Glenn and Andrea lead me to the group by the RV. We meet some of the other members, Dale and T-dog who greet me friendily all the while seeming a bit confused by my presence.

After meeting everyone briefly, Glenn takes me into the farmhouse to see Carl and his parents, Andrea staying back to talk to Dale.

The chipped screen door of the farmhouse squeaks as we push it open, revealing a warm and homey house behind it.

Glenn informed me of everyone's names, and Maggie, I believe, comes up to us, eyeing me curiously. "Who is this?" She asks Glenn, causing the nearby people, Hershel and Patricia, to walk over with interest.

"This is Dr. Cassandra Adams. She saved Carol's daughter, Sophia, the one who was missing. She's a pediatric surgeon and wants to help Carl," Glenn explains briefly and I offer a sheepish smile as they look over my mud-covered figure, seeming skeptical. Honestly, I don't blame them.

"Hi, Glenn filled me in on the situation, how are Carl's vitals?" I question Hershel, the vet, eager to help.

Hershel studies me for a moment, his sharp eyes inspecting me under his grey eyebrows before he decides to answer. "His blood pressure is 82 over 57 and dropping, his abdomen is distended and solid. Pulse Ox is reading 89, Respiration's are slow and quiet." Hershel informs me seriously, and I nod, widening my eyes a bit.

Jesus. It's bad.

"And it was GSW to the abdomen..." I murmur mostly to myself, thinking out loud as I stare off at the worn wooden planks of the floor. "Did the bullet exit?" I ask, glancing up as Hershel shakes his head, making me let out a sigh. Damn.

"The bullet went through a deer and inta the boy, splintering through his lower stomach." Hershel clarifies, and I cringe. Poor kid.

"Oh god. This is worse than I thought," I sigh, about to run my hand through my hair from muscle memory, but remembering the mud caked all over me, I think better of it. I chew on my bottom lip, thinking back on my past experience and what I'll need to perform his surgery.

"I sent Otis, the one who shot him, and another man I didn't catch the name of to collect supplies," Hershel tells me. Before I can question him again, Herschel recounts the list they gave the two men, and I nod, taking it all in.

They have, or will have, all the supplies necessary. That's good. His chances of survival just rose past 25%.

"Can I see him?" I question and Patrica nods with a kind smile, leading me to the dark wooden door to his room. She lets me know both of his parents are inside, making me smile, knowing that makes my job easier having them both here.

I open the door after a gentle knock to find Carl lying on the bed, pale as the white sheets he's tucked into, his mother sitting beside him, holding his hand, tears streaming down her pretty face. The father's back is turned to me, an IV collecting his blood from his right arm. I walk in gingerly so as to not alarm them too much with a stranger's presence.

The mother, Lori, widens her eyes as she sees me, wiping her tears wordlessly, her grip on Carl's hand tightening. As I reach the foot of the old-fashioned wooden bed, I glance up to see the dad, who looks alarmed but is clearly too weak after giving blood to get up. I take a deep breath, trying not to notice how attractive he is. Focus Cass.

"Hi, uh- my name is Dr. Cassandra Adams. It's a bit of a long story, but I found Sophia a couple of days ago in the woods. She and I searched for your group both days and today some of your people found us, thanks to Daryl's tracking. She's safe and with Carol now," I explain briefly, both of their eyes widening with shock at the news.

The dad, Rick, sags with relief, his shoulders slumping slightly, closing his eyes for a second. I can't imagine how much guilt he must be holding onto having seen Sophia last. Having been the one to tell her the directions she forgot.

"But, I'm here with you now because I'm a surgeon. A pediatric surgeon that would very much like to help your son," I explain and the mother jumps up with a gasp.

"You're a surgeon for- for children?" Lori asks with disbelief, her hand held to her chest, almost laughing at their luck. I smile warmly and nod.

"Yes, I was a senior resident at Atlanta General, working under one of the best surgeons in the country before the turn. I had a great success rate, one of the best in my year. I promise you I can give Carl the best care possible," I assure them, and they glance at each other, seeming uneasy.

I just know Sophie would be rolling her eyes at me if she were still here. Technically, we were both at the top of our class.

"Can you really save him?" Rick questions, his voice low and rumbling as I turn to look at him. Something pulls in the back of my memory as my eyes roam over his handsome face, hardened with worry. I swear I've seen him before. I furrow my brows, thinking for a moment. He raises his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for my answer, jolting me from my deep thinking.

"Yes- well, I can try my hardest. I, unfortunately, have performed this type of surgery before, and the child survived. But I also had a fully operational OR, monitors, a surgical team, and sterile tools." I explain gingerly, making Lori's expression fall.

"But I assure you I will try my hardest to save him, with what I have," I promise genuinely, hoping to convey my seriousness. Rick nods, taking in the information.

Patricia knocks before coming in, explaining that Rick has now given his limit of blood and needs to rest. As she does this, Rick closes his eyes, facing away from her as she pulls out the needle from his vein. Glancing down, I realize he's wearing a sheriff's uniform, a badge pinned to his chest.

It clicks.

I'm taken aback as I fully recognize him, my eyebrows raising with surprise. "Wait- have you been shot before?" I ask Rick, barely being able to believe it.

Rick's expression is a mix of confusion and suspicion as he eyes me down.

"... Yes." He replies carefully, studying me with his sharp blue eyes. I gulp at the intensity behind them. Didn't get to see those before.

"My best friend worked on your case for a bit at the hospital. You were the deputy who was shot in the field and fell into a coma, right?" I confirm curiously, making Lori gasp. I turn to her in slight surprise at the noise.

"So you really are a doctor then," Lori says breathlessly and I nod, trying to suppress the slight frustration that she didn't believe me.

"Yes. I remember I saw your husband a couple of months ago on the way to tell some parents that their son was out of surgery. I promise you, I would not risk a child's life and lie about something like this. Please let me take a look at him?" I plead, my gaze darting between the couple.

Rick finally speaks up, giving me a once-over, making my stomach flutter with nervousness.

"Okay, you can. Once you clean up a bit," He says gruffly, and my cheeks warm up, forgetting that I look like I lost a fight against a swamp and probably smell like it too.

"Right," I mumble under my breath, scratching the back of my neck, my face hot.

"We have a shower upstairs you can use," Patricia offers helpfully and I blink at her in utter disbelief.

"A-a real working shower?" I ask with amazement, making her chuckle warmly.

"Yes, with hot water too. I can show you the way?"

___

Stepping out of the shower with a satisfied sigh, I feel better than I have in weeks. I made it quick just in case the two men came back with the supplies, but judging from the quietness in the house, I doubt it.

The hot and clean water washing away the months of grime I could never quite scrub off with creek water was close to orgasmic.

The feeling of being clean once again makes me feel like me again, determined to save this kid's life now that I'm not contaminated with dirt and mud.

My hand comes up to wipe a circle on the mirror, clearing away the condensation, staring at my reflection for a second. My dark copper-colored hair is finally the shade it used to be, no longer discolored with mud, the soft wet waves framing my green eyes. I note the change in my skin, tilting my face to the side to examine it further. My once-pale skin is now filled with warmth and my freckles are much more noticeable than before.

Before all of this, I would spend most of my time at the hospital under those fluorescents. And as much as I loved it there, I looked like a ghost. I guess these are the benefits of the end of the world, I can finally get a tan.

Sophie would be proud. She was always egging me on to get more sun, teasing me about my 'transparency'.

God, I miss her.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to put on my clothes, stopping and cursing at myself when I realize I left my bag downstairs. All I have in front of me are Dave's muddy hunting clothes that I am not putting on again.

After drying myself off some more, I wrap the fluffy beige towel tightly around myself and open the door gingerly. The only voices are coming from downstairs, where my bag is.

I cringe at my stupidity as I start descending the creaky wooden stairs, knowing I probably look like an idiot. As I reach the bottom floor, I'm met with four pairs of wide eyes. Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, and Patricia look up from the living room in surprise.

"Hey, sorry, I forgot my bag down here somewhere," I say sheepishly, feeling genuinely uncomfortable at my lack of clothes, and due to my slightly above average height, the small-ish towel wrapped around my body, exposing a great deal of my legs. Glenn gulps and points to the bag dropped in front of Carl's room. I smile and nod in thanks, padding quickly over to the door.

Bending down carefully, I grab my bag and straighten upright just as the door opens. Rick, who had been walking through the threshold, bumps right into me, making me stumble, lose my balance and nearly fall over.

I practically jump out of my skin as Rick steadies me, his warm, dry hands placed securely on my exposed shoulders. "Oh, sorry - you alright?" Rick checks with me softly, those intense eyes of his searching my face.

With wide eyes, I nod, my cheeks flushing, very much aware of the sensation of his calloused hands on my cool damp skin.

"Yeah, um- I f-forgot my bag down here," I stutter, looking up at him, my heart hammering in my chest, absolutely hating the fact that the simple act of his hands on me left me a stuttering mess, probably making me look like more of an idiot.

Rick lets me go, his hands falling to his sides once he sees I'm balanced again. I grab the towel bunched right at my breasts, making sure it's still on securely. I would probably evaporate on the spot if it fell, my stomach twisting at the thought.

"Right. Once you're dressed, we would appreciate you comin' back in to check on Carl," Rick tells me gently, checking my face as I smile gratefully, trying to ignore the rushing sound in my ears and the burning of my skin where it feels like his hands are still on me.

"Okay great, I'll be back in a bit," I breathe, before rushing back upstairs with my bag, my heart still pounding in my chest. I speed back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me, leaning against it, and letting out a breath I had been holding since his hands touched my skin.

Well, that's inconvenient.