Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. This applies to the entire story.

CHAPTER ONE: PROTECTION

Bang!

I stumbled back as a bullet went whizzing past my ear. In another second, I felt one pierce through my shoulder and I fell backwards and laid there.

...

Today had been a terrible day. A herd of the living dead had ambushed me and I had killed as many as I could. Unfortunately, I had grown careless and wasn't aware of where I was positioned. My right foot slipped against the wet soil and I tumbled down the steep hill. A sharp branch that was sticking up from the ground stabbed through my calf as I rolled. The blood had attracted the dead towards me and they dropped down in a painful plunge.

I groped around for my knife, but I must've lost it during the fall. I cursed and scooted backwards until the other side of the rocky cliff hit my back. I really thought that I was going to die then and there, but with one last burst of hope, I managed to grab on to a thick branch and rammed it into the closest one before kicking the second with my good leg. I killed the third and tried to climb the cliff. It was impossible with only one leg.

When I heard how close the other deads were, gave up climbing and sat there, trying to kill as many of them as I could. "Damn it!" I cursed, again. I was tired and the pain in my leg was becoming unbearable. "Why. Won't you. All. Just. DIE!" I plunged the stick into the last dead one and slumped to the side.

Now what?

I sighed and slowly got to one leg. I couldn't just die here. I had made it this long.

I gritted my teeth and started to climb, again. It was going to be a very long day.

As the sun began to set, I finally made it to the top. It was one of the most excruciating experience. I laid on the ground for at least half an hour before I began my trek.

There had been several of the dead scattered amongst the forest, but I managed to kill them before they could get to me. Who knew branches could be so useful?

Eventually, I saw a farmhouse with lights turned on. I felt relief burst from inside me. There was probably someone alive there! Most of the residencies that I had encountered were run down, but this house was still rather pristine and there were already twice-killed deads around the perimeter.

I quickly limped towards it with excitement. I was going to be saved! I was going to be saved! I was going to be sa -

...

"Why is she staying 'ere?" An annoyed voice woke me up.

I groaned and rolled over before wincing when I agitated the shoulder wound.

"You're the only one who's not sharing a tent with anyone. You know Hershel won't let any of us stay in the house and we don't know if we can trust her, yet. We can't let her near Carl." This one was a woman.

The man let out a frustrated shout and kicked something before storming in. He stared at me as I looked back at him with wide eyes.

He groaned and walked back out. "She's awake!"

The woman walked in and cautiously looked at me. "Hey," she said. From the dim light, I could see that her hair was grey with streaks of white. "How are you feeling?"

I swallowed and replied with a hoarse voice. "'M alive, aren't I?"

"Oh, got ourselves a foreigner," the man said from behind the woman.

I glared at him. "Just because I bloody have an accent that's not like yours doesn't necessarily mean I'm a foreigner. I've been here for five years."

He rolled his life before walking away. "Five years," he mumbled. "Foreigner."

"Sorry about him," the woman said with an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm Carol."

"Sydney."

"Are you with anyone?"

I shook my head.

After the outbreak, I had lost them, one by one. We were never prepared for this and we didn't have any guns. We never needed them back in London and we never got used to it when we moved to the States. It seemed to have bitten us in the ass - quite literally.

"I've been by myself for a while," I told her. "And I have no intentions to hurt anyone. I'm not even armed, anymore."

"Anymore?" the man spoke from outside.

I warily eyed the crossbow in his hand. "I was attacked by the dead - a mob of them. I had a dagger with me, but when I fell down a hill and..." I gestured to my leg. "I dropped it somewhere."

"How did you survive?" the woman asked with a frown as she checked my leg.

I shrugged. "Dumb luck? Resourceful? Who knew fallen branches could be so useful?"

The man snorted, but a small grin appeared on his face. I took it as a sign of approval and grinned back at him. He looked down before turning his back to me.

"Hey!" A blonde woman ran to the man with wide eyes. "I heard that she's awake."

The man lifted up the tent flap a little more.

She knelt down beside me and looked as if she was going to cry. "You're so young," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I was on the lookout and... you were limping, so I just... I thought you were a walker."

I tilted my head. "Walker? Those dead people?"

"Yeah."

I nodded my head absentmindedly. Walker... What an interesting name for them.

"I really didn't mean to shot you," she said, again.

"Don't worry about it," I said without looking at her. It would've been great it she actually looked before shooting, but it was hard not to understand why she did it. The... walkers were dangerous and any hesitation could mean life or death. "I understand completely. If it were me, I'd probably do the same."

The blonde woman gave me a weak smile. "I'm Andrea."

"Sydney," I reciprocated before taking a glance at the man outside. "Who's he?"

"Him?" Andrea looked behind her to see the man still seemingly ignoring them. "That's Daryl. He's a bit of a... loner - keeps to himself a lot, but he's a good guy. Don't let him intimidate you too much."

I continued to curiously stare at him. "I won't."

"It's Shane that you have to worry about," she told me, looking at a man with a buzzed cut. "Try not to even approach him." With that warning, Andrea smiled at me and patted my hand before standing up to talk to Carol. "I'm going to tell Rick that she's alright. We'll probably have to talk to Hershel in the morning and see if he'll mind another mouth to feed."

Carol nodded and walked out with her.

After they left, I tried to relax. What was I going to do with this Hershel wasn't going to allow me to stay? Unless they had any weapons to spare for me, I wouldn't be able to survive for long. I needed a Plan B.

"Whattaya thinkin' so hard 'bout?" Daryl had finally decided to come in and he didn't look as angry as he did before.

"Nothing," I told him, shaking my head before trying to get out of the sleeping bag.

"'Nd whattaya think yer doin'?" he asked me with a frown on his face.

"This is your tent," I told him with a raise of an eyebrow. "I can sleep outside. I'm used to it."

He raised his eyebrow back at me. "And ya think I've never done that?"

"I didn't mean that!" I quickly replied. "Just that, you don't have to treat me like I'm disabled or anything."

He looked at my leg.

"My leg will be fine outside."

He shrugged. "Yer choice."

I smiled, but quickly winced when I pulled at the wound in my shoulder while trying to get up. Maybe moving around so much wasn't such a good idea, after all.

He sighed when he noticed the distress I was in and gently pushed me back down. "You're in no shape to move around."

"I don't want you to stay in the cold because of me."

"Cold? It never gets cold here." When I didn't yield, he rolled his eyes and sat down near the edge of the tent. "Better?"

I smiled back and him and nodded.

"Now, go sleep. You're disturbing me."

I closed my eyes. He was such an odd man… and the two women? They seemed like very nice people, but who was Hershel and Rick? Why did their opinions matter so much?

When I woke up the next day, Daryl was already gone. My shoulder and leg had gone stiff overnight. I began to rotate them slowly until I got the blood flowing before I slowly limped out of the tent.

Like many days in this place, the sun was shining brightly. I squinted at the sun in contempt. It was never so bright in London, but being in the sun now was better than being in the dark where the walkers could get you.

I looked around and saw many faces that I was unfamiliar with. It took them a while, but once they noticed me, they had all stopped and stared.

Carol jogged over with a smile and helped me towards the farmhouse where a much older man was standing. "That's Hershel. He's a doctor - kind of. More of a vet, but he's saved a couple of us already. If you can get his approval, you'll be able to stay here."

I nodded. If things didn't work out, I had planned to steal some weapons from them. They seemed to have plenty and probably wouldn't miss one or two. I was posted closest to Daryl, but I wasn't sure if I'd actually be able to get past him. Unfortunately, since I had been here, I had only seen his crossbow. No one else seemed to be carrying anything, but I had heard them whispering about the hidden stash.

"I'm sorry," the white-haired man said, shaking his head. "I can allow you to stay until you're healed, but after that, you'll have to go. I have enough mouths of feed. I don't need another draining my resources."

I understood his logic, but I had been hoping that it wouldn't come to this. I complacently nodded to him. "Thank you. I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."

He nodded back at me in appreciation. He seemed glad that I had agreed without a fight.

I limped away with the help of Carol and sat near the camp where most of them seemed to reside.

"How'd it go?" a dark haired man asked as he walked towards us.

"She's only staying until she heals and can safely leave," Carol told him, sadly.

He nodded and turned to me. "I'm Rick. I can see if I can convince him to let you stay. We're just having the same trouble ourselves."

"I understand." I was tired of saying the same things over and over again. "Don't worry about it. Once I'm healed, I'll probably feel more comfortable by myself. I'm used to it." True that I was used to it, but I didn't want to be by myself, especially not in this Hell hole.

I limped away from Rick and returned to Daryl's tent. He wasn't there, so I made myself comfortable. I didn't see him around the farm and wondered where he had been.

Carol walked in to keep me company, or perhaps to keep an eye on me. It didn't matter. She liked to talk and I was happy just listening to all her little stories. Apparently, she had just lost her daughter in the forest and the walkers had ambushed them. They had been looking ever since.

Daryl seemed to be the most dedicated out of the group. I was surprised. He didn't seem to be someone who cared about other people, but I must've been completely wrong about him. Not the first time. I had put my trust in the wrong people before and every time, I'd see my friends and family die. I never seemed to learn, did I? I guess it was for the best that I go out alone, again. At least I know that I'd be with someone I'd trust - me.

For the next few days during my recovery, I mainly walked around, trying to find out where they were keeping the weapons. Eventually, I spied a black bag with several shiny gun barrels. Was that all they had?

I returned to the campsite and sat on the grass. Could I really steal from these people who had been so kind to me? They didn't have as many weapons as I thought they did, but... I just needed one. It didn't have to be a gun. It'd probably be better if it wasn't a gun. I needed something sharp. I contemplated using wood, but it was too fragile. The walkers were strong enough to break it. What else could I do?

Night had fallen and Daryl was still not back. I laid in front of the tent and looked at the stars. It was different being here where I didn't have to be afraid of my life every second. I didn't have to wake up every few minutes wondering if I was going to be eaten. I turned my head and saw where Daryl had parked his motorcycle. I slowly sat up and looked around me. The majority of the group seemed to be inside their tents sleeping and the only member awake was another older fellow named Dale. He seemed very kind, but I never bothered to approach him.

I never bothered to really approach anyone. They approached me - some select few, but soon, I pulled myself away a little more. Each time I said a little less because I know that eventually, I would never see them again. I couldn't afford to make friends here. It would hurt too much when I had to leave. I just needed to think for myself because I was the only one I could rely on.

I stood up and tested my leg. It was healing well. I needed to prepare for my leave.

Quietly, I groped around the bike and found that there was a back compartment behind the seat. I opened it and saw a gun and a knife inside along with several knick knacks that he had decided to keep, which included a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a pack of matches.

I slowly reached for the knife. It was probably the safest choice, as long as I didn't drop it like last time.

"It's my brother's."

My eyes widened and I quickly retracted my hand. I stared at the man in front of me who was casually leaning against a tree. "I... I wasn't... I mean..." I mentally cursed myself for not only getting caught, but also sounding like an idiot.

"Take it."

I looked at him with surprised. "But it's your brother's."

"Ya need it more than I do."

I couldn't tell what he was thinking right now. His expression was completely closed off. With my eyes still trained on him, I snatched the knife and closed the lid. "Thank you."'

He grunted and gestured to the tent. "Go sleep," he muttered before sitting with his back against the tree.

I slid the knife into my holster belt and slipped into the tent, but I couldn't sleep. I spent the entire night wondering how much longer I had. How many days until one of them finally catches me? I was so tired.

My hand slid over to the blade. Sometimes it would be so much easier to just end it. Not my problem anymore. I wouldn't have to see anyone else die nor would I have to worry that I was going to turn into one of them. It could be so easy.

"Promise me."

"Promise that you'll live for us."

"Never give up."

I curled up into a ball and quietly sobbed into the sleeping bag. Why did I make that stupid promise? What was the point of living when there was nothing to live for?

...

Daryl woke up as the rising sun hit his face. He groaned and wiped his face in exhaustion. His back hurt and his legs were stiff. They just had to give his tent to that stupid girl. And it wasn't as if he could just leave her outside. He rubbed his face in annoyance. He couldn't wait until she was gone.

It wasn't as if she really annoyed him. He just wanted his privacy. He couldn't afford to form strong bonds with people. He had to protect himself, but sometimes, it was just so hard. He just had to get attached to Sophia and now, he couldn't let it go. He didn't even search for his brother for this long.

He let out one last yawn before getting to his feet. Time to get some breakfast. He picked up his crossbow and began to walk towards the forest to hunt. Maybe he'd get lucky together and actually get a live deer. He was getting a bit tired of squirrels.

Unfortunately, when he came back, the deer was missing, but he held three squirrels in his hands. He could still have a mini feast - if he didn't need to share it with the girl.

"Girl! Come out 'ere and 'elp me skin these babies," he called out to the direction of the tent. The least she could do was pull her weight. If she wasn't going to help him, then she wasn't going to get any.

When there was no reply after a few minutes, he tried again, wondering if she was still asleep and couldn't hear him "Girl?" He dropped the squirrels on the wooden stump table and slammed the knife into the trunk before peeking into the tent. "Girl?"

She was gone.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I hadn't actually planned to post this until I was finished a few of my other stories, but I'm sure a lot of other authors here have the same problem… I also just watched the mid-season premiere for Season 6 and it was bloody brilliant! So intense with the right about of emotional impact! I can't believe some of the stuff that happened!

Should I continue this story?

Also, would someone help me with a title? I'm absolutely rubbish with them.