Hello, all! I would just like to say, sorry for the long wait, if ya'll are still out there, hehe… these links I apologize for such a long wait, and I hope you enjoy this chapter… the next couple will most definitely be longer and more eventful! Cross my heart!

Ten: Keep on Truckin'

They are everywhere. All around me, closing in. I've never seen so many of them before in my life, so many sunken in faces, so many black and rotten hands reaching for me, me alone. I cock my gun and shoot the one that seems closest to me and it goes down at my feet, splattering blood all over my shirt. But it doesn't even make a dent. There are too many, and I fumble to lock and reload as another grabs for me. Corpse hands, then don't know what they do. They just see meat, that is what I am to them. Adrenaline courses through my body like an electron chain, fueling my fire, but my energy drops exponentially. This is the end. This is the end of my life, and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing I can do to say goodbye, leave something behind to show that I was here. That even in the most minute of ways, Paige Swift mattered. I let them overtake me.

I thought the dreams had gone away after I found Rick and his group. I haven't had another once since the night I came across them in Georgia. I can't help but say I think the others have kind of been a blanket over the nightmarish circumstances of my dreams that play over and over. They started the second I was alone, and ended the second that I wasn't. I remember the first night I didn't have a nightmare. I was tied to a tire with my hands behind my back, and it was quite possibly the most uncomfortable sleep of my life. But no dream. Huh.

Sorta used the others as a cushion. I didn't really know what I was hoping for, what I wanted. Maybe I didn't want to find others. Possibly, it's just that I'm so hardened. But I doubt I would have made it here without them. But the dreams come again. More than once a night. Every time I close my eyes, they are all I see. I scream, I kick, I howl and whine into my pillow. Soon, there are soft hands on me, comforting me.

"Paige," Lori says, pulling the metal chain on the industrial, nothing-special lamp on the metal filing cabinet-looking bedside table. The chain swings against the stand, making a clinking noise that is so irritating that it hurts my sensitive ears. "Paige, honey…"

I sob into her shoulder, which smells like the soap that is in all the bathrooms, the marble kind that reminds me of starch. She is wearing a tank top and a pair of baby pink boxer shorts, and her bare shoulder is warm against my wet cheeks. Her nails coolly rub my back as I gasp for air, trying to take deep breaths. "They got me, they got me… they got me again, Lori, they did… and there was nothing I could do this time, they – they, they got me." I nervously push my hair up with my palms, all of my antsy ticks showing through. I stammer and get the jitters, my hands shaking like my elbows are vibrating.

"Shh," Lori says. "Eyes closed for a second… alright?"

I do as she says, because right now she reminds me of my mom. Mom always used to take care of me… even when I was older, before I stopped visiting her, she would tuck me in and sit with me for a while. That was before I lived with Dad and went sour. Lori is a bony person. Not like a skeleton, but she has a lot of sharp angles. I guess she's kind of like me in that aspect. We both could use a few pounds to make us softer, but that doesn't say anything about the inside. Lori is still not my favorite person, and I don't think she is anyone's. Who would side with her if she's having a baby in the middle of the apocalypse? I remember Rick yelling it at me the day we argued. It seemed to cause him a lot of stress.

I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my hand. "Did I wake anyone up 'sides you…" I say hoarsely, wiping my nose again.

"Only Rick, but Carl sleeps like a rock these days…" she says, helping me sit up. I cross my legs and sit cross-legged in bed while she brings her knees up to her chest. "Don't worry about it."

"Thanks for wakin' me." I say even quieter. "I don't know if I coulda taken another second…"

She reaches out and touches my arm, but I pull away. I really hate people to touch me when I'm like this. Maybe because I went through it alone for so long. I learned to cope, I'll do it again and again if I have to. She doesn't seem hurt, though. Just goes back to wrapping her arms around her knees. She sits there for a long while, it seems.

"You know…" she says finally. "We all have those dreams. It's hard to forget what it's like out there."

"Yeah." Is my reply as I look into my lap, playing with my fingers so I don't look so small. "It's been a while."

"We're human… we're all vulnerable." She promises, though my vulnerable moments are the ones that don't define me. They're the ones that eat me up inside. "I'm vulnerable… you're vulnerable… Rick is – vulnerable." She sighs, pushing her fingers up through her hair.

"But he leads us alright." I say, staring at the lamp's bulb until my eyes hurt.

"He tries…" she says, and I notice her fingers curl up. "Before you came… things were… let's just say they were different. We lost people. We made – mistakes. Stupid mistakes."

"I made plenty."

"There's always that nagging in the back of your head, isn't there? What can I do to fix it? What could I have done…" she runs her hands up and down her bare legs, trying to settle the goose flesh that has risen on her olive skin. I know how disconnected her and Rick are, almost like how I was disconnected from humanity for the longest time. Something happened that will never be the same with them, if they were ever different at all. Something about Carl tells me that things were better.

"You can never look back, just go forward…" I say, my voice still hoarse from sleep. "Nowhere else to go… this place is safe." I think she knows what I mean, at least by the way it comes out. "We're happier here, and Pepe's given us a home…"

I shift and bend my elbow slightly. The strap of my nightgown that Olive gave me when I got here falls over my shoulder and I slide my hand over the crook of my elbow, where the cotton ball is still taped to my skin. I forgot to take it off when I went to bed, and I didn't exactly think I'd be having visitors at three. Lori's eyes, unfortunately, fall straight over my hand that's attempting to cover up what she's probably already seen.

I stare at her and let my palm slip from the piece of cotton on my arm. I let Lori see it. I let her stare. "Have you had… blood taken?"

I look down at my arm and then back up at her. "Lori, remember when Devil took your blood to see if you were compatible with Beth's blood type?"

"Of course."

I rub the crease of my arm where it hurts. "Well…"

"Paige…" she says, question in her tone. I spill it out to her, because it seems like there is no choice. Hesitantly at first, but then I speed up and tell her openly. There is no point in making up some bullshit story, because I am fucking tired of lying through my teeth. I need to tell someone, and I need to tell everyone. If they are ever going to trust me like they trust the others, I need to tell all now. And I trust Lori. I have a feeling that Lori is taking in every word thoughtfully, because she nods her head occasionally, even putting her hand over her heart once when I tell her of Olive, Daisy, the other people kept in the smokehouse. She doesn't interrupt once, and gives me respect, which I appreciate.

"I've been going out there almost every day now…" I say quieter, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my elbows around them so they are pressed into each side of my ribcage.

"How much blood," she swallows rather awkwardly. "does he take?"

"A pint, sometimes more if they need more. Enough to make me dizzy…" I rub my head self-consciously and push my messed up hair back.

Lori clears her throat. "But there is no – cure for them, they… die, and then they're gone. They're just walking bodies. There's just no way – it isn't humanly possible."

"It is…" I say, my voice rising half an octave. "I've seen it happen. They aren't dead when they turn, they're just in this – different state, I guess, from what's been explained to me."

"Then – it's your blood?" she questions, pushing her dark hair out of her face.

"Yeah, well not the only thing. It completes it. Whatever else he's put together, I got this rare blood. It's the only one compatible." Her dark eyes flit down to my arm again, then back up to my eyes. She leans forward and places her palm on my forehead.

"Honey, you're shaking." She says softly, and I pull away from her. She grits her jaw. "Why have you kept this from us?"

"Don't get short…" I narrow my eyes and pull away from her. "Don't you think you all would claim I was crazy if I walked around telling you I was curing walkers?" The look on her face tells me that she already does. "Oh, shit, Lori, I'm not crazy. I'm really not, this isn't crazy, I'm sane, Devil's sane, we're both sane. Everyone in Espero knows eventually. The crosses out on the property, those are all his failures. He's been trying to make this cure for so long now, Lori, you gotta believe me. Olive's sister's out there, and she's – getting better. She's close to human again, really, I saw her yesterday."

"Paige, honey… I believe you." She grips my arm. "I believe you."

I look up at her with my two watery eyes, a tear running down the side of my nose. I wipe it with the back of my wrist and sniff. "I'm not crazy."

"I know…" she says, helping me lie back down on my back. I curl into a ball and let her tuck me back in. It makes me miss my mom a little even though she stopped giving a shit about me much before the apocalypse happened. I shiver in my ball, and she doesn't leave. "Tell me how it works…"

I sniff even harder. "He transfuses my blood with the walker. It puts them into a sleep. When they wake up, their brains start to function again. That's how it works…"

"You don't want to ruin this, do you…" she says, gently stroking over my hair. I'd normally hate this, but it feels kind of good to have someone on my side now. Someone who knows my secret.

"No…"

"You've got a lot on your shoulders… how about you lift that up…" she says, patting the side of my head because she can't get the front since I'm turned on my side. So many things are going through my head right now. The rotties in my dream, seemingly so real. They were going to grab me and drag me down, bite my ankles then rip into the soft flesh of my stomach. Pull out my organs like spaghetti. Eat off my face and tear off my hair like paper Mache. That dishearteningly reeks of déjà vu, and it scares the shit out of me because of it. I don't want to relive the past, so I keep that filed deep away in the bowels of my mind. My screaming, for a second thought. I hate the sound of my own scream. And it feels so comforting for someone other than Pepe and the others to know about this.

"You mean, tell…" I whisper. "I've been trying – I don't know if I can… how could I…"

"I don't really know what to say to you know, so I'll tell you what my grandpa once told me… in times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act. Telling the truth can set you free." She says while standing up, brushing herself off. She paces to the other side of the room. "I'm in deep, you're in deep… we can't drag the others down with us, so you just have to keep on trucking, Paige…"

"I went through a lot out there on my own…" I suddenly blurt out, but something tells me she thinks it's okay. There's shit I'd rather not talk about, but I think in a sense she's the same way.

Lori presses her knuckles to her chin as she speaks again. "We've all been put through the wringer. This place is the – perfect opportunity to start over. We lost people out there, we weren't always so broken. These times we need to band together, but what we've really been doing is pulling apart. I've been a heedless woman, and it's time I own up to it… I thought that Hershel's farm was the perfect place to settle, but see where that lead us…"

"Carl told me. About what happened there."

She looks up. "Carl's changed since then. He's grown up pretty quickly… my boy is growing up in this world, and no one's set a great example for him to follow."

"Start now." I say quietly. "I don't know what to do…"

"The worst thing you could do was keep secrets. If this "cure" really does work… people are bound to find out eventually. And wouldn't you rather it be before you're blamed for keeping secrets for too long?"

"I figured I'd just… I don't know."

She tucks me in again and draws the covers up to my chin. "Sleep on it. I'll be in the other room if you need me again, alright?"

I nod once and let my eyes droop closed.

This place is like a meadow. I suddenly just appear there and look around. The sun on my face is warm, but not bothersome, and when I look down I am dressed in a long dress. I usually don't wear dresses; all my life I've wandered around the woods in ripped, faded jeans and t shirts. Never much cared for vanity. But the dress I am wearing looks like white taffeta, but is soft and silky. Enclosed inside the white material is a flowery pattern that looks faded, and synched around my middle is a light golden belt, which matches the straps that fit to my shoulders like they were molded for them perfectly. I am barefoot, but the grass if soft without any rough terrain. I take a few steps, the grass feeling like cotton, or stuffing under my feet. A slight wind tossles my blonde hair that is for some reason curled slightly at my collarbone.

The perfectly green grass is around me like a sea of rocking waves, and they are soft on my bare legs. I take a few steps and stare up at the blue sky in the distance. There is not a cloud sullying the cerulean beauty as I stare into the vast space. Fingertips brushing the tips of the tall meadow's grass, I take a few steps while still looking upward. When my eyes waver back down to my own eye level, there is a girl standing there. I try to speak but can't find the sound of my own voice.

She's small, with angled elbows and knees, but her face is quite pretty none-the-less. She smiles, her lips turning up at the edges. They are the color seashells at the beach, or the color of the inside of a really good plum. I look down at her outstretched hand and study the long, manicured nails. Looking up at her face again, she is no longer smiling, but waiting with her large-set brown eyes. Waiting for me to take her hand. Slowly, I reach forward and let her grasp envelope mine. It is oh so warm. I haven't felt anything this comfortably warm in my entire life. I feel like as long as my hand is in hers, I can feel happiness, if only for a moment. I forget about everything else for a second.

She smiles again at my disbelief at the warmness of her thin fingers. Her button nose is covered in light freckles, and her glossy brownish-blonde hair is combed perfectly and reaches her chin. It has a slight wave to it, and bobs when she moves. Those covetable lips smile at me again, and I smile back with one side of my mouth. Her hand tugs on mine and I let her lead me through the obstructionless ground of the meadow. Soft turf squishes under my toes as we walk through the small lea, our hands intertwined in the convivial knot. I can feel the tissues of my heart pulsing with sincerity. She too is wearing a dress, but it is a soft creamy navy color on the see-through sleeves, and the farther down it goes, the more dense the flowery design gets. I am so busy studying her beautiful dress that I don't notice that lupines are appearing around us as we walk, and the sun is warming my face even more.

Again, I try to speak, but can't find my voice. Nothing comes out, and I want to speak to her so bad, but I can't. I let her lead me to a small coverlet of trees that guards us from the sun, and she looks up at me.

What? I feel like asking, and she smiles again, her lips pulling up at the corners. She shows me her perfectly white teeth this time as she beams, swinging out hands just slightly. I blink once and she is a few feet away, holding her hands together in the front. How did you get over there? She just smiles and lets the breeze pass right through her, like she is an apparition. My brows furrow as her brown eyes widen and her skin seems to glow in these shadows. I turn to see what she is looking so contently at behind me, and another beautiful figure is behind me.

Emily? My face lights up and I rush forward to embrace her. It's been so long since I've seen her! Oh, Em! I've missed you! I've missed you, you have no idea how long I've been wondering where you were! Emily!

She smiles and pinches my cheek gently, and I feel the same warmness when she touches me as the young girl. I find it strange that she is still dressed in her usual clothing; just a pair of jeans with a rip in one leg, and her studded belt looped so tight on her waist. Her cotton shirt is rolled up to her elbows, and her curly hair falls over both her shoulders. When I let go of her, she holds me at arm's length away and smiles brightly, that same old smile I remember. How could I have forgotten such a face?

Where'd the little girl go? I wonder, and look around. Emily shakes her head, her curls bobbing slightly as she does so, and takes my hand. Her boots are covered in mud, I see when I look down at them, but the grass is perfectly green and blemishless. I feel her tug on my hand and she leads me down a slight incline onto a creekbed. The water bubbles and the girl is beside me, staring at the small creek. I blink once, and suddenly she is on the other side, smiling and waiting. Emily pulls me into the water, but is flows around me, like I don't even touch it. It goes through me, as it does Emily, and when we reach the other side, there is not one drop of water on me.

Where are you taking me?

Little girl nods once and takes my other hand, my other being in Emily's. They lead me for what seems like forever, though I don't mind. It is unbelievably comfortable here. The ground doesn't hurt my feet. The sun isn't too hot, or too bright. My clothes fit me perfectly, and the two hands radiate a feeling that everything is going to be alright, sometime. I look to Emily, who only chucks her chin down so it is resting on her collarbone and I feel her fingers slip from mine at the same time the girl's do. I look at both of them, and they seem to be waiting, watching for something. I look around, but there is nothing. After what seems like hours of standing here, the girl tugs on my hand and Emily spins me gently around to see the figure of a man approaching.

Petey? Oh God, Petey! I thought I would never see you again! Petey! Petey! I leap for him, and he closes me into his chest. He is the warmest one of all, I swear. He is like eating a toasted marshmallow, but like the marshmallow is eating me. I bury my face in his broad chest and feel myself crying, but no tears come out. I touch my face, and it's dry.

I still fail to find my voice as Petey takes my hand and leads me through the lupines, brushing against my hips as we wade through the meadow again. Emily and Girl choose to follow, trailing behind us by a few feet, occasionally stopping to admire the flowers.

Beth? I stop at the top of the hill, looking over the slow slope that juts down. Beth smiles, just as the others did, and takes my hand. Petey doesn't let go of my other one as she hugs me loosely, being gentle. She is just as warm as the others, if not warmer. The dress she wears is a soft orange color with lace overlay, and her hair is pinned in the back, which is strange because, hey how did we get in this meadow?

I turn to try and talk to Petey, but he's gone again. I lift my hand and paw the air, but he is gone, totally materialized. I turn to Emily, but she is gone as well. Beth is no longer in front of me. Disappeared. The only one remaining is Girl, who offers me her hand again. I start to panic, where did Em and Petey go! How could they just disappear?! I have to find them again!

She notices my agitation and approaches suddenly, taking my hand and patting it. The warmth radiates again, and I let her lead me to a large weeping willow tree. I don't know what to do, so I sink down on the trunk so my bottom rests on my thighs. Girl looks down at me.

Aren't you going to sit too? She just stands, her small bare feet resting on the sodden ground, the sun casting a bright beam from her left side. She looks so darling; I could just hold her here. I wonder who she is… I yawn. I feel kind of tired, and maybe that's what she's waiting for me to do; go to sleep. Is that what you want? She blinks, her long lashes brushing her cheeks. I close my eyes.

The paper that has been placed leaning against the metal lamp. Girl from last night stares back at me with those same penetrating eyes that watched me as I fell asleep, the same soft lips. I roll onto my side far enough to stretch out my arm, and snatch the picture gently. There are many eraser marks, and smudges, but still, I would recognize her anywhere. I flip it over onto the back, but there is nothing but a small portion writing that is blotted from the lead. Carl Grimes, to Paige. I hold it up to the light to see it better. That's her, alright. I comb my fingers through my hair and walk out into the hallway, looking for Carl. He is in the opposite hallway, and he must have just gotten a shower because the only thing he wears is a pair of jeans, and his hair that is getting shaggy is dripping onto his bare shoulders. When he sees me he looks a little embarrassed, but tries to play it cool.

"Carl," I say, and he bites his lip, casting his eyes downward.

"Sorry for going into your room, but you were asleep, and I finished it…" he says sheepishly, his teeth together firmly while he talks. "I wanted you to have it…"

I look down on him and his eyes eventually find their way back to mine. My eyebrows furrow slightly and I place my hand on his wet head. "I think it's great, Carl."

"I thought it was okay…" he grumbles under his breath and puts his hand on top of mine while I ruffle the wet stringy locks.

"Carl?" I say, and he looks up again. "Who is this?"

"It's Sophia…" he says softly, biting the inside of his cheek. "You know, the girl I told you about…"

"Yeah, I remember." I hold the portrait out in front of me to get a better look. It's hard to believe it's actually her, Sophia. That's your name, Little Girl… Carl's friend… I remember he told me about their days on Hershel's farm, how Sophia had gone missing, and the walkers the Greenes kept in the barn. In some scheme of things, the barn was opened, all the walkers inside slaughtered, among them Hershel's wife and son. Sophia was one of them. "This is a really good picture…"

He looks up. It's a little strange to see him without his usual sheriff's hat, or hat hair. "I couldn't get it right. It's hard to remember exactly what she looked like without a picture or anything…"

"I think she looks great. She's beautiful." She is… no wonder she insisted on looming over me in the meadow. She was there all along.

"I always thought so." He says quietly, and I observe the slightly dented scar on the right side of his stomach. If I don't know a shotgun wound when I've seen one, I'm daft. Makes me wonder what went on before all of this; the scar is fresh, so this probably hasn't happened less than half a year ago. Probably less.

"So, I can keep this?" I ask, holding up the picture again.

"Yeah, it's for you… you're the one who told me to draw people." I kneel down beside him, hugging my arms around his legs. We're both a little bit surprised with it, but he hugs me back, his getting-stronger hands shaking. "Maybe I'll draw Beth next…"

"Keep her fresh in your mind." I say faintly. "That way it'll be easier."

He smiles as I stand up again. A sad, older than he is smile, the smile of a tired father, but a smile anyway. "I'm gonna go help Vicki make breakfast. I said I would after I got a shower."

"Carl? Thank you."

He nods once and pulls his favorite shirt on over his now-dry skin; a paw circled by atomic bands. I head back to my room and open up my near-empty drawers. The top one has nothing but about five pairs of clear underwear, and I place them all on top of the bureau, laying the straightened paper in the bottom of the drawer where it'll be safe. Good and safe. Seems kind of uncourteous to cover Sophia up with underwear, but she'll be safe. After I ensure the portrait is in a harmless spot, I take a shower and dress in a pair of ripped, worn jeans and a plain t shirt. I can't help but think of the dress I wore in my extremely vivid dream. It was beautiful, and the more I think about it, the more I can picture it.

"Will you cut these?" Olive asks as I make my way into the kitchen, pushing a washed colander of strawberries toward me. I take the knife she hands me and start slicing the leafy bit off the top and then again cutting them in half. I toss the new halves in the bowl of already-cut fruit she slides toward me.

"How's Mill –" I suddenly blurt out, then cover my mouth at the look she gives me. Carl is making toast over the stove on a heated old-fashioned toaster, the kind you have to turn on the stovetop, and Vicki is making eggs. I'm silent for a while, just choppin' these damn berries. We eat breakfast in silence, and a few others trickle in. Lori gives me a look at the table, a sympathetic look as if she is waiting for me to bring it up. I cover up my arm self-consciously. I ripped the tape and cotton ball and threw it somewhere before getting in the shower.

"We have to take care of that body." Pepe says, taking a sip of his black coffee. He uses his napkin to wipe the droplets of the hot drink off of his mustache, and Rosia clears his plate for him. He turns to his son, who is washing the dishes. "Pepito, will you take Carl out with you to get some firewood?" he eyes Carl and his son.

"Yup. Come on, man." His son says, playfully knocking Carl's hat on the head.

"Rico, be careful." His mother, Rosia grabs his arm and pats her own cheek do he'll kiss her. He rolls his dark eyes and pecks her on the cheek before leaving, the screen door slamming shut behind Carl and him.

"I'm gonna go get a little gas." Tidan clears his throat, sliding his chair back to the table. I'm surprised they let the corpse marinate out in the sun, but maybe the dryer it is, the better it will burn. I don't know, I've never burned them.

Eventually, after a few cups of black coffee that does not go down well, I make my way outside to where the others are now, mostly. They are all gathered outside, around the now-burning pile of wood and the body me and Daryl dragged in. I can see why they covered it in a few logs now; the smell would be horrible if it wasn't covered by something to catch the rancid smoke. I stand sort of disconnected from the group for a while and watch Devil walk in from the field, from the direction of the smokehouse. Olive stands beside me.

"He's been out there for the majority of last night." She says in her pixie-like voice, pulling her hair over one shoulder. "I wonder if everything's alright."

"Have you been going to see Millie?" I ask out of the corner of my mouth, pretending to stretch my arm behind my head.

"As much as possible. She's weak, and needs to get her strength up, but she's doing better."

"No shit." I smirk and eye the man, who is trudging with his arms hanging at his sides. Devil looks like a wreck, I have to admit. His hair is slicked back and sweat is on his brow, a small droplet dripping down from his temple at the hot sun. He hasn't shaved in a while, and his growing scruff is thick, brown and gray. His shirt is also damp with sweat. He looks like he's been put through a meat grinder, and he walks straight past us. Alexa reaches for him, but he brushes straight past, leaving her dissatisfied. I grind my teeth and stalk away from Olive, leaving her body swaying as I push past.

"We need to talk." I say, slightly running to keep up with him. He continues stalking at the unaverage pace. I grab his arm, my nails digging into his skin. He barely flinches, his bicep flexing and the veins showing.

"Jesus, woman!' he mutters in his irritated voice.

"You needa stop with this bullshit." I growl, my accent coming out like it does when I'm about to yell when I'm not getting to people like I wanna. ""Ya look me in the eyes and let me talk."

He refuses to look at me, scowling at the ground, so I dig my nails father in until he looks up. "What? God damn!" he gabbles.

"I need to tell them."

"Excuse me?" he narrows his eyes, his tone uneven and full of fatigue. I really don't have time for his bullshit, and I ain't gonna waste time twinkin' around and waiting for him to answer to me.

"I gotta tell them. They're too in the dark. They're my people. They need to know."

He pulls me aside harshly by the arm until we are behind the house. "You can't."

"Oh, just watch me."

"You can't." he interjects again, a certain craziness in his eyes that I can't really detect. His left eyelid twitches over his eye as he grabs me again, arm quivering.

"I can do what I want." I push his arm away, ready to yell for someone if he tries anyone. "I can't keep on keepin' on like this if I'm going to keep secrets from them. I can't stand it anymore."

He paces, running his shaking fingers backwards through his unwashed hair, stuttering. "I – I – I need more time, can I at least have another day? A few more hours?"

"It's too late…" I whisper, already backing away a couple feet. He seems a little too dangerous and unpredictable for my liking now, and if I've learned anything in the past, it's back away slowly but surely. "Lori already knows."

"What." He says between clenched teeth. "You told her?!"

"You said to do whatever I felt was right!" I holler, making myself loud and clear just in case this turns ugly real fast. "It was right to tell her!"

"What, so you go around now telling whatever bitch of a housewife my information?! My information, Paige! It isn't like it's your secrecy to give away!"

"Last I checked, it was." I flash him a tease of my arm, the hole he's been poking the needle in every time to extract my blood, his precious little liquid from the holy grail, me. "You need my blood for this, and I'm not going to help you anymore if you don't make it clear to my people."

"This is all I've worked for in this rotten hell of a place, and you'd take that away from me? From all of us! What about Olive! What about me! I swear, God woman!"

"You can threaten all you want, but I'm still your link to humanity. I can stop giving you blood just as easily as I can give it to you. You can't tie me down and force me. My people don't deserve to live under a shade!" I cry, tossing my hair back behind my shoulder. "Now, whether you wanna cooperate with me right now or not is up to you!"

Devil makes a discouraged, expressionate noise as he half whams his head forcibly into the side of the house. "What can I give you to make you change your path of thinking?"

"You can't replace my group's trust with material things or whatever else you were thinking of. Hershel needs to know that his daughter didn't go down in vain. That you were gonna help her. Maggie too. And they all need to see what we've accomplished. What you have accomplished, and wouldn't have been able to accomplish without me. Ya hear me out? No more of this craziness, Devil. More complex things go on 'round here 'sides you curing walkers in the smokehouse, alright?"

He looks up, epiphany written all over his face, though with that still present hint of insane. Probably from breathing those fumes, talking to half dead people all day, staring at a vile for hours upon hours. "Devil, they need to trust me. They need to trust us."

He grabs my shoulders again. "Please, Paige. I'm begging, don't ruin this."

"It's either they know, or you can cut me out of your plans."

He nods once and we advance back to the others.

The funk of rotting flesh is in the air now that the wood is turning to ash, crumbling around the corpse and wafting her dead scent up into the air. Glenn stands beside Maggie, who watches the body burn with disgust, and he looks up at me when I slowly scuffle to a stop at the edge of the fire pit, getting a bit of soot on the toe of my boot. Hershel is a safe distance away from the burning pile, with Carol who is petting one of Camel's dogs that is surprisingly not as hostile as I first believed when it tracked me down in the orchard. It's the shaggy black one, Bobby Jo I think, and Jaws it rolling around in the grass a few feet away. Lori stares at me for a brief second, and Devil paces back and forth, occasionally looking up to me. I take a deep breath.

"Guys? I needa talk to all of you…"

"You didn't tell us?" Carol interjects, her face stricken with disbelief. Bobby whines and pushes up on her hand again, but she doesn't notice.

"I – I was planning to. I didn't know if it would work, and it does." I add before anyone can even take a breath to say otherwise. "Devil's been working on it since the apocalypse broke out."

Maggie and Hershel's faces are the worst. They know their sister and daughter is gone, but there was that one chance. I hate myself that I am the one who ruined it.

"How long have you kept this from us?" asks T-Dog, and Rick just scoffs and stares at me in disbelief and disappointment.

"Since last night. I spilled to Lori." All eyes fall on her, and she looks away. "And don't blame this on her, she's the one that convinced me to tell ya'll. You can either take it or leave it, but I'm not pissing my pants for you people anymore. This is the truth, and I can't hide it any longer."

"But you still lied…" Glenn says, licking his lips.

"It was for the good of – everyone, okay? Hear me out on this, and I'm telling you now! Now that you all won't be disappointed!" I raise my voice and I notice Camel lurking near the back. He whistles softly to one of his dogs, who retreats loyally to his side and licks its dark lips. "Well, Devil, say something! Say something, all of you! This ain't just me, and ya'll know it!" I put my hands on my hips, accent shining through even more than ever now. Carl stares at me from behind his father, trying to look tough, pushing his hat back off of his forehead and chucking his chin up to look bigger. I know he trusts me.

"I – I think we should trust her." He says quietly, and then steps out from behind his parents. "She was trying to protect us."

"Carl," Rick says shortly, pulling him back and leaning down, speaking through clenched teeth at his height. I hear Carl's voice hiss out.

"What're you doing Dad? This is Paige. She's one of us." I see him blush behind his freckles and look back at me quickly to see if I can hear.

"My – my sister." Olive finally speaks up, not so shy now that the spotlight is on her. Lori puts her hand on Carl's shoulder and Rick straightens out. Daryl stops sulking and Camel even stops to listen. Not often that Olive talks out like this, she's actually kind of outspoken. "My sister, I thought she'd died here. This was it, I was alone in this. That changed yesterday when she spoke to me."

"Impossible." Murmurs Hershel. "Paige… those things die, and then they become monsters. Nothing else happens, no matter what ya do to 'em."

"Really, it's all in the medication." Alexa interjects, her auburn hair bobbing. "It's quite simple. The drug is given through a saline IV drip. It stimulates brain activity, even after death. This creates a sort of – safety barrier that will allow Paige's blood type to enter the vein and pump the heart. It works. I've seen it happen." She says matter-of-factly.

I reach out my hand towards Rick. "Please, you gotta believe me. This was for your best… for Carl, and you Maggie, Beth… I didn't want to get you mixed up in my own shit." Rick takes a look at my outstretched hand. "I trusted you…"

He takes it and shakes firmly. "We need to work – this – out. Whatever it is." He mutters under his breath. Something just isn't really right about him these days; I have a feeling it's something that happened before I was with them. It's no matter. He won't fall apart, at least not yet. I can trust Rick. He's tested me before, and that little fight we had, it was all for good reason. I sigh and stare at all of them, the members of my group, and the others of Espero. It's going to take me a while to sig my way out of this mess and sift through the damage I may have done while I was just trying to help. I nod once at the awkwardness and start to head back towards the bunkers where I can shamefully crawl under the covers and die. I really hate the feeling of deceiving people. The guilt creeps up on me, and right now, I really just need to be alone. I crawl into my bed and bury my face in the pillow, biting my lip so I don't cry.

After a while the door creaks open, and I look up halfway from the pillow, my lashes still across my cheek. "What do you want?"

The bed creaks, and Tidan weights the side of the bed slightly down as I turn back away towards the wall. "Go away, I don't want to see anyone right now."

"Don't… shhh." He whispers, gently running his palm down my shoulder, to my back. "They don't hate you, they trust you…"

"No they don't, and they have every right not to. All I could do was wiggle in here and die, so leave me be to."

As I sit up, his lips meet mine, hot and wet and tasting of maple syrup. Not that shit you used to get from the grocery store, but that kind that is actually real and melts in your mouth. I immediately kiss him back, wrapping my arm desperately around his neck and pulling myself as close as possible, almost so my lips are in his mouth. He pulls me against the wall and I start to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kisses my neck like my skin smells like the best thing in the world. Tears stream down my face as I weave myself into his body, his hands frenziedly roaming over my shoulders like he can only hold me now and only now.

I'm dreadfully sorry, my lovelies! I know, that might have been boring and short… I apologize… it is setup for the next chapter, I PROMISE that things are going to go somewhere in this next chapter… I swear of Daryl Dixon, and ya can't break that, ya'll! Please let me know what you thought! You are all wonderful! ~Liz!

By the way, if you were wondering what I was envisioning in Paige's dream sequence regarding clothing, here ya go, ya'll! Labeled and everything for ya!

Paige's Dress:

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Sophie's Dress:

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Beth's Dress:

url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&frm=1&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=kfqDZbszhkku5M&tbnid=hcIWUlkq1BIfqM:&ved=0CAQQjB0&url=http%3A%2F% %2Fpost%2FNh3gFNIdH1%2Flace-dress&ei=Ja0uUcD9DYz02wXUooGoCg&bvm=bv.42965579,d.b2I&psig=AFQjCNEjwFGYtt0SZr8RbZ5hKKmo 5CMGmQ&ust=1362099827352932