Marley had been sick many times. Some would say, too many times for there to be no concern.

When she turned fifteen, she started getting sick. It wasn't anything morbid. None of them were death sentences, her body was just very bad at protecting itself.

Marley's blood was thin. Her bones were fragile. Her joints were loose. Her immune system was fucked.

She had a tendency to get sick.

And for years, no one cared.

After Marley's parents died, Jimmy Blake had no concern for paying money to care for her everlasting sickness.

So she had learned to not expect anyone to care.

Not anymore.

It had been a week - she thought - since Rick Grimes declared his leadership detail, and how he had killed his best friend. Because he pushed him, she remembers him saying. Around the fire, when they were all scared and she still had bruised knuckles from punching the long dead man, their new leader hissed and spat his anger.

All she could think about was the almost teary face Shane had made just before they departed, and how she had thought nothing of it at the time. She was too busy struggling to see through red, and she hadn't cared.

Then all had been quiet.

The growing tension coming from rick alone caused most of the group to suffer in silence and have a "get on with it" attitude. All she could think about was the almost teary face Shane had made just before they departed, and how she had thought nothing of it at the time. She was too busy struggling to see through red, and she hadn't cared.

And Rick had a tension with Marley.

If she didn't have an injured ankle, he wouldn't have let her help anyways. Let her help with clearing out houses, guarding them, staying on watch. He acted like she didn't exist.

The girl stared lazily out the window. Her under eyes were dark and purplish, mimicking the bruises that littered her entire body.

She found the only thing she could have any effort to do was blink.

Her forehead tickled as she lay it against the car window, the engine vibrating all the way up to her, where she tried my best to sleep and my best to not puke.

Nothing helped; not liquids or sleep; heat on her stomach or anything she had thought of herself.

She never gave anyone a chance to put their pity on her. No one ever did, so it was a foreign concept.

"Marley?" The voice was muffled in her ears. Lori tried speaking to me for an hour, but she still kept my eyes on the road.

Marley was in the Grimes' car. Despite the father being less than happy that she was near his wife and son, it was the only way he could keep a close eye on her.

He knew she was some sort of unstable.

"Marley?" Lori leant towards her over her seat. "Sweetie, answer me."

Lori's motherly instinct must have kicked in at the mere sight of Marley. The need to constantly know how she was doing, and whether she needed any help - despite her previous actions. How she had insulted her and hurt Rick.

The redhead's manic attitude had taken a leave since the farm. Her less-civilised behaviours. She was simply... still.

"Marley?" Carl had tried this time, and Rick's neck craned at the sound of his son's voice.

He took his eyes off the road for a split second, a steely glance to the younger people in the back.

"Carl," he warned. The boy in question sat back in his seat moodily.

"Rick," Lori started. "We need to stop, she looks like she's about to fall apart."

"She's fine."

"She's going to get worse if we don't find her a place to rest and get better."

Rick didn't answer, his hands clenching over the rubber of the steering wheel. The action a warning to his wife.

Lori rose her hand to Marley's knee, patting it gently to try and get her attention.

She shook within her skin, lifting her head from the window and looking wide-eyed to the woman catching her attention.

She breathed heavily like she had just woken up from a nightmare.

"Are you okay?"

"I think I'm gonna-" she stopped short when a wretch crawled up from my throat and she pressed my head back onto the window.

"Rick stop she's gonna-"

"I heard!"

Rick pressed the horn twice, and the band of cars and a motorbike slowed to a stop. All of them looking curiously to the one that signalled to see what the problem was. They stopped on a small road, an alleyway between trees.

Marley played with the handle of the door, curling her fingers and pulling. The door opened and her weak body went with it, tumbling to the ground, shoulders first. Her legs upwards, her waist bending awkwardly.

The first one out of the cars was Maggie, who ran towards the girl and started to lift her from the dirt. Marley's back was now coated with a dark gritty substance.

"Oh god," Marley heard her whispering in her ear, the action washing a cool breath of air along her skin which she appreciated to some extent.

Maggie couldn't do much but lay her on the slightly wet ground, holding her face in her hands and moving the hair from her face. By then, all had gathered - albeit T-Dog who kept watch.

"She alright?" The first to ask was Daryl. The man stood amongst everyone, and slightly behind. He kept his eyes on the how you could easily see Marley's veins due to how pale she was. He had always noticed the faint blue line that travelled up the inside of her arm, and how it branched at her wrist and inside of her elbow.

"She's been like this for days now," Lori sighed.

Hershel knelt down next to his daughter, to the girl on the ground and patted her face gently. Marley's eyes fluttered at the contact.

"Sit her up," he simply said.

Maggie and Hershel leant the weak twenty-year-old against the car, and the old man squeezed her cheeks in his hand. He shook her head slightly, trying to get some words out of her.

"Marley," he tried quietly.

"Hershel," she threw back. Her voice was a mess of cracks.

"I need to know if you have any idea what's going on with you."

She took a weak hoarse breathe, the noise making everyone shift uncomfortably. "Paroxetine," she started, each syllable a pound of energy leaving her torturously slow. "I was taking paroxetine."

Hershel turned from her, looking over his shoulder at everyone. "Withdrawal. Did anyone know she was on paroxetine?"

Glenn stepped forward. "I remember her asking for them." A pang of regret coursed trough his thoughts. He remembered how casual the exchange of drugs was, how he never asked what they were for.

"Yeah," Lori confirmed. "She asked to have it when they went on a run. Why?" Lori remembered writing the damn word, "paroxetine" down. How she never asked what they were for.

It seemed both Glenn and Lori noticed how much they should have been paying attention to her. But neither knew how much she had on her mind because Marley had lied about who she was.

Hershel sighed heavily, turning to the redhead once more. "Looks like this ain't over for you yet." He stood up, wiping his hands on his shirt and turning to look at everyone. "She's having withdrawal - it's like a fever, but with anxiety, nightmares, insomnia. I don't doubt she knows what she's gotten herself into. But I think she's just sick on top of that; a common stomach bug, maybe."

"She needs a stable environment and medicine, as soon as possible."

The group was silent for a moment, as all eyes drifted to their leader who stood as still as ever - seemingly a mile away from his wife, and with a stony expression. Rick clenched his jaw.

But Daryl was anxious because Marley was sick. He hadn't ever met her sick. He had never seen her this way and it made him scared. Because he wasn't a genius in the medical field so he felt like there was nothing he could do. Whilst the rest of them had distanced themselves from the girl, he hadn't one inch.

Maggie had her hand resting against Marley's cheek. It was hot to the touch, burning red.

Carol piped up, wincing at the sight of the girl. "Is there a place nearby?"

"There's a place - a theatre," Glenn suggested. He had been studying the maps every minute, constantly anxious about where they were.

"It's too big," Rick ordered, pointing his finger to the floor. "Too open."

"She needs a place," Hershel reasoned.

"We'll go to the theatre and find a pharmacy from there," Maggie planned, wiping the sweat from Marley's forehead. She lightly tapped her cheek when the redhead started closing her eyes. "Stay awake, sweetie."

"No," Rick still stood his ground. "We go straight to the pharmacy."

"Rick," Glenn sighed exasperatedly. "That's too far for her, she won't make it."

"She'll have to."

"Rick," it was Daryl's turn to try and reason with their leader. His tone was harsh and protective. "She can't." Daryl shifted under everyone's gaze. He threw a nod to Maggie. "Her plan sounds good."

Unlike Glenn and Lori, Daryl knew all she had on her mind, and he didn't stop anything that happened.

He felt like one of the most important responsibilities he had come across in his life, was turned to dust; and he felt so stupid.

Everyone nodded in agreement. But Rick had his hands on his hips. His ring finger tapping the metal of his gun.

He looked to the girl on the floor, looking away from Maggie's angry stare.

And then Marley looked at him. The girl who stood by his best friend's side. Who punched him in the jaw, almost broke his nose, and generally caused him trouble. He didn't exactly feel up to giving her special treatment.

Rick didn't like her.

"Glenn," Rick started. "Gimme the maps a sec'." He waved his fingers to the other, an impatient glance passing over.

Glenn hurried to the car he was occupying and came back with them, passing them over just for to leader to turn and walk to the front of the cars.

The group watched their leading man as he rolled out the map on a car, and started to look intently at it. The only person who followed him was his wife, Lori. A recoiled expression appearing on her face.

"Daryl," the weak voice caught everyone's attention.

Her eyes widened at the sight of him, an almost cute expression on her face.

He looked to her.

"Help me back in the car," her sentence ended with a cough. She let her head fall on her own shoulder, hair falling over her face.

Daryl looked to the ground briefly, adjusting himself. He took hasty steps towards her, letting Maggie move past him before quickly taking Marley by under her arms and lifting her with ease into the car. Maggie moved her legs. Marley lay her head back, not moving her eyes from Daryl.

"Fine," Rick announced exasperatedly. He stalked to the middle of the group, looking intently at Marley who stared right back. He would have to accept that she was with them - a traitor. An accomplice.

Someone he honestly just wanted to leave behind - because it reminded him of the fall; the fall which his best friend had taken.

Rick had to deal with other people caring about her when those feelings had been buried for him.

"We'll go to the theatre," he spun on his heels. "Daryl, Glenn, you come with me to the pharmacy further into town."

Everyone nodded in agreement, filtering from the 'meeting' and back into their cars.

Daryl waited for Maggie to leave his side, and for eyes to turn the other way.

Then he looked at her intently, inspecting the darkness under her eyes and the thin layer of sweat on her skin. Her damp hair stuck to her neck, and he almost resisted the urge to brush it away. But he did, using his pointer finger to stroke her skin and the strands of hair over her shoulder. Her skin was scorching hot and wet. Daryl could also feel the thumping vein fighting for life, right below her jaw.

He felt her shiver under his touch, and her eyes fluttered open and closed. She breathed out steadily for a moment, before going back to her regular croaky noises.

He shut the door, walking back to his bike.

+

The theatre was huge. Some of the group had wished in their heads they had heeded Rick's warning of its size.

They can't protect themselves in a place like where they were. There were too many exits, too much space, too much danger.

Any intruder could easily walk in and line up a sniper, taking them all in a line

But Marley had started to shake. Her temperature was rising but inside she was freezing. She kept asking for them to close the window, and no matter how many times they said they did, she kept asking.

And she had to wait because they needed to clear it out.

The few people who regularly did it left the cars and left everyone impatiently standing around, feet tapping on the gravel as they kept their eyes away from the redhead.

Carol sat beside the girl in the car, keeping her middle and pointer finger pressed to Marley's wrist. Her senses picking up the raised marks there, and discreetly ignoring them.

Marley's heart was racing faster than before, and her chest rose and fell at an unsteady pace.

They took especially long, this time, bolting doors and blocking exits to try and minimalise the amount of watch they would have to take.

And when the part of the group who cleared out houses came back, Glenn dived straight for the door at which Marley sat. He placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"Come on, Marley," he tried to lure her out.

When she grimaced in her place, whimpering like a kicked dog, he hoisted her into his arms. Her head fell in the air, chin tilting upwards. Her mouth parted and inhaled the cold air around her, making Marley's lungs ignite in a shiver.

All of them rushing into the theatre, Lori and Carol staying close to Glenn near the front. He kept his body level as he could, trying not to swing her about too much.

Rick ushered everyone in, directing them to centre stage. Dusty red suede chairs covering from corner to corner of the room. Dusty gold metal lining the Isle. Ugly flowered carpets layering the floor. Creaky dark wood taking up the stage.

Glenn waited for Maggie to place a thin blanket at the foot of the front row, before laying Marley gently on the floor. Her head hit the floor roughly and he quickly gave a small apology.

Marley's eyebrows furrowed, her big green eyes looking around for something.

"Right," Rick's voice was loud and everyone could tell he was slightly pissed off. "Daryl, Glenn, you're coming with me. T-Dog is in charge till I get back. Carol, you're with Marley. Hershel, make a list for me."

Hershel started to wildly scribble on a small stray paper he had found at the front desk of the theatre, after finding a dying pen. He looked back and forth between the girl on the floor and the list of drugs.

And Daryl's feet couldn't keep still. He gripped the handle of his crossbow with such might, he may just make it crumble.

He was at the front of the theatre, where Marley was still in his view. And he squirmed under her sickly state and the way she stared at him - like she didn't want him to leave.

He was so used to her being dependent on him, back when she was too scared to go anywhere by herself, but he was dreading her reverting back to her weaker self. She had grown so much without him, and he didn't want her to be scared again.

His face held utter disappointment in himself because he should have looked after her. He should have seen it all coming, and he didn't do anything about it.

Carol rose up from her kneeling position on the floor, running her cold knuckles along Marley's cheek.

She turned to Daryl. "She's asking for you." An expectant and curious tone.

"Alright let's move," Rick yelled. He wove his hand in the air, starting to power walk back to the cars.

Daryl looked between him and Carol, letting as much hair he had fall over his eyes. Daryl stayed guarded against everything around him. "Gotta go."

The archer swiftly brushed past the woman who was only trying to help. He heard Marley speak small "no's" as he passed by each chair - the swirl of guilt rising in his stomach.

Marley had tried her luck, so she let her eyes flutter closed, taking hoarse breaths and curling into herself.

All whilst everyone else looked at her in a pity she never wanted.

+

wake me up inside (wake me up)

wake me up inside (can't wake up)

sorry about the mess of a chapter, i haven't done my own material since the start of this fic.

thoughts on the chapter?

what are your predictions for the chapters to come?

- sylar