Sure enough, Daryl has a cow when I tell him that I'm riding with the first group, but after a long-winded and exhausting fight, he finally agrees to let me go.

That night, we travel down the road. The RV that Aaron brought with him travels at a more than safe distance behind us. In the vehicle that I'm occupying, Michonne and I sit in the back with Aaron wedged in the middle. Glenn drives while Rick sits shotgun.

Rick opens the glove compartment and pulls out a stack of license plates from all these different states.

"Um, I'm trying to collect all fifty states," Aaron explains, smiling weirdly. "Put them all on a wall in my house."

"You have your own house?" Michonne asks.

"Mm. See for yourself."

She picks up the envelope again, flipping through the photos. I look too, interested.

"Why don't you have any pictures of your people?" I ask after a while.

"Oh, I took a picture of the whole group, but I didn't get the exposure right. When I tried to develop it later, it just-"

"Did you ask him the questions?" Michonne asks.

"No," Rick replies.

"How many walkers have you killed?" she asks Aaron.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"How many?"

"I don't know. A lot."

"How many people?"

He doesn't answer for a moment. "Two."

"Why?"

"Because they tried to kill me."

Rick pulls a listening device out of the glove compartment, looking back at us.

"You were listening to us?" Glenn asks, shocked.

"I already said I was watching you," Aaron defends.

"That's how you knew about my baby. That's how you knew our names," I say, horrified.

"Yes, I was listening."

"It means his people could have one, too. They could've heard our plan. This isn't safe!" Rick yells.

Glenn slams on the brakes as he runs into multiple walkers, making blood smear across the windshield.

"Shit!" he cusses.

"Glenn!" I shout.

"They were right behind us. They would have hit us. Now they can get out," Glenn mutters hurriedly.

I spin around, trying to see the RV out the bloody back window. I can't see anything, and fear courses through me.

Daryl.

Glenn keeps smashing into walkers, his visibility completely gone and the headlights red with blood. He skids to a stop once we're away from the main herd. The two men open the doors, looking back out at the road behind us.

"I don't see them," Rick says.

"No, they're gone. They got away," Glenn responds, sounding scared and relieved all at once.

"All right, we'll circle back and find them. Let's go," Rick commands.

"They're okay?" Aaron asks.

"Yeah," Rick replies as he hops back in.

Glenn tries to wipe the blood from the windshield before hopping in too.

"All right, we can take a left a couple of miles up 23. Jefferson Avenue," Rick says as he looks over the map.

"Jefferson Avenue," Glenn repeats.

"We've got to get out of here," Aaron whispers.

The engine sputters, Glenn grits his teeth. "Come on."

"Come on," Rick and I plead.

The snarling of the walkers gets closer, and I feel my chest seize up with fear.

"We've got to get out of here," Aaron repeats.

"Come on. Come on."

"Let me see what I can see," Michonne offers, opening the car door and stepping out.

"They're coming right for us," Aaron squeaks.

"Yeah, we know," I snap.

"Come on, come on!" Glenn whisper-yells.

"We need to leave now," Aaron demands.

"Hold on," I say.

A flare appears above the trees, and my breath hitches in my throat.

"Shit," Aaron cusses.

"Who did that?" Rick asks.

"I need to leave," Aaron gasps, scooting over my lap and trying to get out. "This is over. Let me out. I need to get outta here. It's over."

"What's going on?" Rick demands fiercely.

"Let me out!" he screams.

"Did you see that?" Michonne asks as she appears at the window.

Aaron kicks the door down, sending Michonne with it. He takes off, and we all leap out of the car.

"Michonne, leave him! We need to find our people," Rick calls.

"They saw that flare. They'll think we shot it. This is how we find them!" she replies desperately.

I unsheathe my knife as we take off into the woods. Walkers surround us on every side, and Rick pops off rounds as Michonne and I slice into the deadheads' brains.

I bump into Glenn just as I kill another walker.

"Hope, come on." He grabs my wrist and pulls me away.

We lose Rick and Michonne in the dark trees, still firing and stabbing. Glenn stays behind me as we spin around in all directions.

There's a snarl, and I spin around just in time to see a walker lunge for Glenn's arm. I leap forwards and sink my knife into its eye socket. It, plus us two, collapse to the ground in a heap. A pain courses through my knee and I almost cry out. There's a loud snap and the handle of my beloved weapon separates from the blade.

"No..." I whisper weakly.

Glenn helps me up, panting a little.

"Any bites?" he asks, his hands on my shoulders as he looks me over.

I look to where there's a blood stain on my jeans, and he kneels to roll up the leg. He sighs with relief.

"Just a cut, from that rock," he tells me, looking to the blood stained stone.

"Thank God," I whisper, wincing a little.

He looks around, nodding a little. "Come on. Don't leave my side and only use your gun if I can't get the walker first."

I nod, my hand still trembling as I look to the knife handle. It lasted me so long...right from the start.

We take off through the foliage, my leg aching with every step. We hear yells, and we skid to a stop. A lone walker attacks a cornered Aaron, and he kicks at it.

"Get off!" he shouts.

Glenn starts to walk away, but I grab his forearm. He looks back at me and sighs, racing towards the fighting pair. He jams his knife into the walker's skull, making it go still. He turns Aaron around and cuts the rope around his hands, and the scared man looks to the two of us.

"Run if you want. We've got other things to worry about," Glenn tells him, heading away with me beside him.

"We can make it together. But we can only make it together," Aaron says, making us stop. "You said that. I was listening."

I motion for him to join us, and we take off through the woods again. I catch the faint sound of what sounds like Glenn and my names over gunshots. Then, a light goes off that can only be from Rick's flare gun.

We reach them just as the walkers start to close in, taking out the rest of the herd that is currently nearby. Rick and Michonne look at us with an immense amount of relief, and Aaron puts down his gun.

"If you really want to tie me up again, that's fine, but hurry up," he says.

"No time," Rick replies, taking his gun. "We're going that way."

We run, reaching the road swiftly. A sign reading Route 16 can be seen nearby. We spin around, searching for any sign of our group.

"Where are they?" Rick asks Aaron.

"I don't know," he replies exasperatedly.

"If this is a trap to get us back where you want us, your people are going to die tonight," the Sheriff threatens. He turns and starts walking. "The flare was towards the water tower."

I wince again, and Glenn puts an arm under my shoulders, helping me walk. I thank him softly.

We keep going until we reach the spot Rick believes to be the place. He whistles out a set of notes, waiting for a reaction. We round the corner into a dank alleyway, seeing the RV parked a little ways away. Rick repeats the whistles, and I see the silhouette of Daryl near a grimy light. He waves, racing to the door and knocking hurriedly before rushing towards us.

He engulfs me in his embrace, his hand on the back of my head as he kisses my cheeks and forehead repeatedly.

"You scared-" Kiss. "-the absolute-" Kiss. "-shit outta me."

"I'm ok. It's alright," I whisper, a tear running down my face. I was worried sick.

Maggie throws herself into Glenn's arms, both smiling with relief.

"Dad!" Carl calls, hugging Rick.

"Your sister okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're fine."

Daryl pulls away a little, cupping my face in his hands and stroking my hair, his expression overwhelmed with emotion.

"You're hurt," he murmurs, looking to my leg.

"Cut it on a rock," I explain. I reach into my pocket, pulling out the handle of Dale's knife. "This broke..."

He kisses my forehead. "I'm sorry angel. I know how special it was."

"Eric? Eric?" Aaron asks frantically. "Eric?"

"In here," an unfamiliar voice calls from a place labeled "Supply Room".

Aaron races inside, and we all file in to a separate room. Daryl helps me, immediately settling me onto a chair and rolling up my pant leg.

"Damn, your legs can't get a break," he mumbles.

I laugh lightly while he cleans off the blood. Carol walks over and helps him bandage it, and we have quiet conversations. My cut is wrapped and the pant leg is rolled back down. Carol squeezes my shoulder gently before walking away.

Daryl gets up to my level and gives me another hug.

"You're influencin' me too much," he whispers.

"How so?"

"When I saw that flare, the first thin' I did was start prayin'. You've gone and made me religious, girl."

I laugh, and he kisses my cheek. His eyes travel to the ivory knife handle again, and I smile sadly.

"I shouldn't be feeling so bad over a damn knife, but..." I sniff, smiling a little as I feel my eyes itch. "You know. It was from Dale."

Daryl reaches to his belt, pulling out a sheathe. Another white handled knife fits snugly inside, and he holds it out to me.

"It was Beth's. I think she'd be just fine with you havin' it," he murmurs.

I smile, taking the knife in my hand. It feels nice, perfect even. Daryl takes the old ivory handle, pocketing it.

"I'll hold onto that for you," he offers.

"Sure." I nod.

He gives me a kiss, and I smile beneath it.

My Daryl Dixon is back.