"Shit, shit, shit," I chant under my breath with panic, fishing out my now-burnt chicken from the oven and tossing it haphazardly on the stove with a groan of defeat.

Damn it.

Anxiety churns within me, twisting my gut as I desperately brainstorm how to fix this before he comes home.

Just like that, the dreaded sound of the key in the lock of our apartment door echoes through the room. A bolt of fear strikes through my body and my stomach drops as I frantically waft my oven mitt above the chicken, silently praying that the bitter smell dissipates.

The front door closes and his footsteps falter. My limbs are tingling with adrenaline as I let out a breath shakily, turn the corner, and poke my head toward the door. He just stands there, staring at me, his eyes dark and calculating.

Clearly not happy.

"Sorry babe- I just got distracted finishing up some paperwork and-"

"I'm not interested in your goddamn excuses anymore Cassandra." He snaps irritably, the sharpness of his tone cutting my flesh all the way to the bone.

"I just- for once, want to come home to a meal not being burnt to shit!" He shouts loudly, the sound of his voice reverberating off the walls as he slams his briefcase to the floor with purpose. I flinch, my heart jolting in my chest, alarm surging through my veins.

"I'm sorry! I had a long day at the hospital a-and-" I stutter lamely, stepping backward as he stalks toward me, my stomach twisting with guilt and fear.

Why did I let it burn? God, I'm so stupid.

His bitter laugh cuts through the air, dripping with sarcasm."Oh of course. Here we go! You're goddamn Mother Teresa because you save children's lives for a living. I'm just an asshole who works at a stupid fucking corporate office!" He e exclaims with a mix of frustration and disdain, his head shaking in disbelief as he advances toward me. With each step closer, my heartbeat increases.

"No! that's not what I'm saying- I promise," reply earnestly, my voice quivering as I struggle to hold back the tears welling in my eyes. I would never say that to him.

"No, you're right. I'm just a loser whose salary is a quarter of my fiancé's," He scoffs bitterly, the coldness in his voice deadly. Panic swells within me, and I shake my head frantically, desperate to reach out and comfort him.

"You are not a loser! You do amazing work-" I begin, but am abruptly silenced as his hand strikes my cheek with a sharp crack. The force of the blow sends me tumbling to the ground, my palms stinging as they collide with the cold tile, and my elbows and knees ricochet unpleasantly off the hard floor, sending waves of pain shooting through my body.

"Don't talk down to me like that bitch," He seethes, stepping over me and going to grab leftovers from the fridge. I try to collect myself, froxen on the kitchen tile as he sits down at the table, beginning to eat, unphased.

My heart still pounding unpleasantly, I bring a trembling hand to my face before pulling back to my eye line to see blood glinting on my fingertip.

Of course. His ring.

I deserve that.

GIngerly getting to my feet, I use the countertop for support. Without a word, I slowly and quietly walk to the bathroom. Closing the door softly behind me, I crouch down and retrieve the first aid kit from under the sink.

As I hurriedly stand back up, I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror, making me stop and stare. I barely recognize myself anymore. My eyebrows are turned up in the middle, the bags under my eyes nearly purple on my already pale skin, creating a stark contrast against my dark copper hair. The bright red of the surface cut on my cheekbone seems so out of place next to my dull features and skin.

Why does this keep happening? Why can't I be perfect for him?

I need to do better.

Dabbing the small cut on my cheek with a hydrogen peroxide-soaked cotton pad, I watch as the blood gets wiped away.

I don't put a bandaid on. He doesn't like it when I do that. Running a brush through my knotted hair, I quickly apply some makeup to look less haggard. He likes it when I look presentable.

Blinking at my reflection, I take a deep breath to prepare myself before I walk back into the kitchen, deciding to make an easy brownie dessert for him.

His favorite. It seems that after finishing his meal, He left his dishes at the table and chose to watch his show in the adjoining living room. Without hesitation, I clear his plates for him before making his dessert.

After making sure it's cool enough to not burn his tongue but warm enough to be enjoyable, I bring it to him. My heart is throbbing in the vein in my neck, holding my breath as he takes a bite. He chews, swallows, looks at me, and smiles.

A surge of relief washes over me and I beam back at him, ecstatic that I've pleased him.

"You are an amazing baker, Bunny. Great job," he compliments me sweetly with a chaste kiss on my cheek. I grin happily and settle back on the couch, sighing with relief.

He called me Bunny. Good. He's not mad anymore.

Good. I'm... good.

___

The birds chirp in the early morning, giving our quiet breakfast a serene backdrop. The group devours the food generously made by Carol and Dale, consisting of once again, powdered scrambled eggs and spam. I had offered to help make it but after my underwhelming potatoes from the dinner last week, they politely declined.

As I collect my breakfast on my plastic fork, I glance up to see the Grimes family eating together, sitting closely in the shade under a tree. Rick is looking down as he eats, focusing on his plate, his mind clearly miles away. Lori brings a hand to the back of his neck gently, making him look up with a slight smile as she runs her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Not being able to help myself, I covertly stare longingly at her fingers combing through his curls before averting my eyes from their private moment, that all too familiar ache settling in my chest. I can only dream of being able to have those intimate, delicate touches with Rick.

There is something different in his demeanor today making me wonder if Lori listened to my advice and finally told him about the pregnancy. The eggs in my mouth begin to taste like cotton, and I have to put down my fork, not feeling all that hungry anymore.

I sneak another glance at the couple as they talk quietly, their heads close together. Chastising myself, I force my eyes away, not being able to stomach the sight.

"Um, guys- I have something to tell you all," Glenn announces from the other side of the campfire, twisting his baseball cap between his hands nervously. I glance up, the rest of the group watching him expectantly as he exchanges an uneasy glance with Dale.

"The barn is full of walkers," Glenn spits out quickly, a grimace on his face. The world stills for a split second as we all freeze. My stomach drops as the chorus of shocked and angry voices erupts around me.

There's no way.

Right?

I turn to see Rick already on his feet joined by Andrea and Shane.

"Glenn. What do you mean, there are walkers in the barn?" Rick questions slowly with that calm yet stern tone, tilting his head as he examines Glenn in that characteristic cop way that I definitely do not find attractive.

Before Glenn can answer, Shane speaks up. "Why don't we just go find out?" He spits angrily, immediately making his way to the dilapidated barn on the other side of the field.

"Shane!" Rick shouts after him, following him, flanked by the rest of the group.

Jumping to my feet, I follow them, my heartbeat thumping in my throat. As we rush through the grass, I hear the uncertain and scared mumblings of Carol and Lori, walking closely together. I don't blame them. If this is true... we are not as safe here as we thought.

We finally reach the dirt patch in front of the barn just in time to hear Shane and Rick's argument, the faint sounds of the walker's groaning coming through the deteriorating slats of the wood, making my heart sink.

"You cannot tell me you are alright with this," Shane snarls roughly to Rick, breathing heavily, a furious expression written across his face.

"You know I'm not," Rick retorts quickly, his tone commanding, turning to face Shane. "But we are guests here. This is not our land," Rick insists, his voice deep, eyebrows furrowed.

I wince at the situation. We are already on thin ice here. Make a riot about this and we might be kicked out for good.

"These are our lives, man!" Shane shouts to Rick, pacing back and forth, breathing heavily.

"Lower your voice," I order before I can stop myself, glancing anxiously back at the farmhouse. He has no idea what's at stake. As I look back at the pair, Rick meets my gaze, a knowing look behind his eyes.

"We can't just sweep this under the rug!" Andrea enthuses, shifting on her feet, her arms crossed. Shane stops pacing, settling in front of Rick, his dark brown eyes staring his best friend down.

"We have two options, right? One, we go in there and we make this right- or we just leave. We have been talking about Fort Benning for a long time-"

"No. We can't leave," Rick asserts angrily, taking a threatening step towards Shane, standing his ground.

"Why?" Shane shouts incredulously, his nostrils flaring as he glares at Rick.

I realize with a start that Shane doesn't know about the baby- the reason why Rick wants to stay.

"Carl just recovered- it's not safe-" I start, attempting to keep the Grimes' privacy, stepping forward just for Shane to whirl around, his dark eyes meeting mine harshly. My heartbeat lurches at the sudden confrontation, making me jerk back slightly.

"I didn't ask you" He spits, earning a flinch from me, making a spark of shame burst in my chest. For a horrible minute, I get a flashback of Him. Suddenly I'm just as I was a year ago. Small. Weak. Manipulated.

"Shane-" Rick starts but Shane just shakes his head, laughing under his breath bitterly.

"No. NO. I have had enough of this lying bitch hanging around, trying to make decisions for a group she ain't a part of," Shane sneers and I immediately falter, swallowing back the insult, feeling like I just got punched in the gut.

"You are out of line, Shane" Rick growls, those blue eyes filled to the brim with anger.

"Yeah. You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about man," Daryl speaks up from the other side of Rick, his eyebrows furrowed with determination. My heart warms slightly with appreciation for my friend as I shoot him a thankful look. He just nods once back at me, making a slight smile pull at my mouth.

"Why am I the only one who sees past her lies? She cannot be trusted!" Shane insists bitterly, sparing a glance in my direction as I watch with confusion.

"What are you talking about?" I question incredulously, my heart pounding with anxiety under his hardened gaze.

"Why don't you tell me? I am a police officer. I know when people are lying. Especially when I'm not blinded with gratitude because you saved my dying kid," Shane rants, spitting out the last part bitterly, his words hitting me like knives across my skin.

Rick falters from the left of me.

As I turn to look at him, I can see the uncertainty flash over his features as he considers Shane's point. I spare a glance at the others around us, watching closely, the same doubt evident on their faces.

I gulp, finally meeting Rick's gaze, watching me intently, an unfamiliar look in his eyes- distrust.

Shane steps forward, far too close to me for comfort, those nearly black eyes glowering intensely as he glares down at me. "Tell the truth. These good people deserve as much," He orders quietly, the threat evident in his tone.

Taking a deep breath, I rake a hand through my hair. "Fine. Just- back up," I reply with surrender, a very smug Shane doing as I request, taking a step back. He crosses his arms, watching me with a satisfied expression.

I only catch a brief glimpse of the disappointment on the faces of the others, and I have to look away. This could be it. I worked so hard to find a group of people to be a part of and finally felt like I belonged, only for it to be thrown away.

"Okay. Shane is right. I have been... keeping something from you all." I start, gulping nervously, wringing my hands as a force of habit.

"When the virus first broke out - I volunteered with doctors in multiple research and disease centers to help. I saw firsthand how the virus spread through the brain of patients and resurrected the body." I explain, taking a deep breath, feeling a crushing weight around me as I consider the prospect of being alone again.

"Eventually, it was getting so bad, they started to refuse volunteers and insisted I return to the hospital to help with the damage instead." I grimace, remembering the feeling of hopelessness, knowing there would be no cure. That humanity as we knew it would be gone.

I can't bring myself to look at the group, only focusing on a rock surrounded by a blanket of dust at my feet.

"The day I was leaving the CDC for good, a doctor stopped me before I walked out the door. He informed me that we're all infected. Every. Single. One of us. The virus is lying dormant until we die. It doesn't matter if y-you get bit, die of a heart attack, or f-fall off a cliff- you will turn after." I explain somberly, finally grasping enough courage within me to look up.

The group is watching me and I catch the horror, disbelief, and shock on their faces as they stare back at me. Shane scoffs, shaking his head.

"There's no way-"

"She's right." Rick calmly finishes for him, making me whip my head in his direction. My eyes roam over his features, trying to figure out how on earth he knows that.

"Rick- what are you talking about?" Lori quivers from behind him, a hand resting on her stomach gingerly. Ricks's eyes flit to meet mine, making my stomach do a somersault.

That distrust is gone now.

"Jenner told me the same thing. The night he detonated the CDC, right before I left that room." Rick explains, his eyes not leaving mine. It feels like a 20-pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I'm not alone in this. He had been carrying this secret too.

"Rick- you kept this from us?" Carol asks from behind him, her betrayed expression breaking my heart.

"Don't forget Cassandra was lying too," Shane adds pointedly.

"God, enough! We get it, Shane," I snap, the anger finally spilling over, tingling through my veins.

Shane just glares back at me, clearly still not satisfied with my confession. He is right to not be satisfied, but I'm not about to reveal to the group that Lori is pregnant or that I'm falling for her husband. Those aren't the secrets that need to be shared.

"I can't speak for Cass, but we both clearly thought it wouldn't help. I thought it would just make you guys panic more," Rick explains and I nod earnestly.

"Yes, exactly. I didn't think it was my place to tell you," I try to explain myself, casting a worried glance at the group.

Andrea shakes her head. "We should have known sooner. We deserved to know the truth." She points out disappointedly, making the others nod in agreement. I glance to the ground, discomfort and shame overwhelming me.

"You're right. I should have told you. You guys are my family and I knew for too long to not tell you," Rick begins, looking around at the faces of the group genuinely. "I'm sorry." He apologizes candidly, making them shift on their feet, exchanging uneasy glances.

"But Shane? Enough of this vendetta against Cass. She didn't have the responsibility to tell you like I did. So pack it up." Rick orders sternly, making Shane look up, incredulous.

"Are you kidding? I was right! She was lying to all of us. She doesn't deserve to be here-" Shane begins, already seething, only to be cut off by Rick.

"-I lied too! Are you saying I deserve the same?" Rick interjects, his eyebrows raised.

"Maybe!" Shane blurts out angrily, making all of us still.

I thought they were best friends- what the hell?

Rick's expression flickers with shock as he just stares at Shane, betrayal splayed over his features.

"Shane-" Lori starts from behind Rick, making Shane cast her a deranged look, breathing heavily. Lori shuts her mouth, stepping back with a worried expression.

"Who decided that Rick is our leader? Why should I listen to him? We're all just standing here like idiots, letting Herschel put us at risk every goddamn day because of this fucking barn!" Shane shouts, kicking the side of the barn aggressively, making a chorus of groans arise at the noise, grey fingers wriggling through the slats of wood.

We stand in silence, all watching those dead fingers desperately grasping for whatever flesh they can. The hollow sounds of their moans fill the area with tension, reminding us of what danger lies behind a few inches of wood.

Shane turns to us, catching our attention. "I'm not gonna stay here, waiting for the day this barn gets too cramped and the walkers come to kill us all," Shane finishes with emphasis, storming away.

___

"You didn't tell me about the barn," I say quietly, announcing my presence. Maggie glances up from her spot on the couch, a wide range of emotions crossing her face.

"I'm sorry. The barn is secure, and if you guys were unhappy about it, mu dad would just kick you out, it didn't seem worth it." Maggie explains softly, not meeting my eyes. I nod. I know what it's like to keep a secret for the greater good.

"It's okay. I... get it," I shrug honestly, perching on the couch arm beside Maggie. She watches me quizzically.

I explain the truth about the virus lying dormant in all of us, taking her by surprise.

"So if you hadn't saved Carl-"

"He would have turned," I finish with a somber nod. She gasps, bringing a hand to her mouth, staring off.

She is about to say something when the voices of Rick and Herschel start to rise, reaching us across the house.

"I don't want to talk about the barn. I don't want the debate" Herschel says, his voice laced with exhaustion.

"Not a debate- a discussion," Rick interrupts passionately.

A pause.

"I need you and your group gone by the end of the week," Herschel responds simply.

My heart drops. This soon?

"I talked to Dale. You and I have our differences, in the way we look at the walkers. Those people- they may be dead, they may be alive. But us- my people, we are alive. Right now. Right here. Right in front of you. You send us out there and that could change." Rick argues.

"I've given you safe harbor. My conscience is clear." Herschel says defiantly.

Maggie and I exchange worried glances. I had no idea he was so deadset on this.

"You don't know what it's like out there. This farm is special. You haven't had to see what it's like," Rick tells Herschel, his voice laced with dread that mirrors in my chest.

There is the clatter of footsteps on hardwood and dishes on countertops as the two of them move from the dining room into the kitchen, in clear view of us. Herschel is at the sink, Rick standing back near the doorway, watching him.

"The first time I saw a walker, it was just half of a body snapping at me on the ground. My first inclination wasn't to kill it. But what the world has become isn't what you saw on t.v. It is much much worse and it changes you. Either into one of them- or something a lot less than the person you were. Please no not-- do not send us out there again." Rick practically begs as Herschel doesn't respond, still staring down at the bottom of the sink.

I can barely breathe as I watch Rick pause, glancing up at Herschel. "My wife is pregnant. That's either a miracle here or a death sentence out there," My heart sinks and I look down at my lap.

So he knows. And believes it can be a miracle.

Maggie's hand reaches out and grabs mine gently. I glance at her with appreciation, pushing forward a smile.

"If we were to stay, we could help you. With the farm work. Securing this place. We can survive together." Rick insists, his voice slightly rasping with emotion.

"Rick, I'm telling you we can't-" Herschel begins.

"You need to think about what you're doing," Rick interjects sternly.

"I've thought about it." The older man retorts.

"Think about it again! We can't go out there." Rick finishes decidedly before turning and storming out of the house. Herschel trails after him but stops.

He then glances over, spotting the two of us. Maggie just shakes her head meaningfully at him, walking away. I follow, my heart heavy in my chest.

After saying goodbye to Maggie, I leave the farmhouse, trying to find Rick so we can talk about what just happened.

Standing on the porch, I overlook the farm and spot Rick's figure walking up to Shane by an old tractor in front of the walker barn. I squint, trying to get a better look at them. They are arguing, their arms moving around as they talk. I can see the tension between them as they start to raise their voices.

Suddenly, Rick says something that makes Shane still. Rick adds something again under his breath before walking away. Shane stops him, saying one word with a nod, and Rick nods back before walking away. Rick must've told Shane about the baby.

My eyes wander back to Shane, who runs a hand over his face, shaking his head, a smile on his face. I blink. Huh.

Hanging the last of my laundry on the clothesline by our tents, I turn, nearly walking into Andrea, making shock flinch through me. "Oh, Andrea. Hi," I greet with slight surprise as she just raises an eyebrow at me.

"So, have any more life-changing lies you kept from us?" Andrea asks expectantly, those sharp blue eyes of hers boring into mine. I release a resigned sigh, beginning to walk away, hoping to evade the conversation.

"Hey- I'm talking to you," Andrea snaps, her sharp command slices through the air, accompanied by her iron grip wrapping around my forearm. The sensation of her fingers tightly digging into my flesh sends a jolt of emotions surging through me. I swallow hard, willing my voice to remain steady as panic churns within my chest.

"Andrea. Get your hand off me." I demand threateningly, a desperate attempt to mask my overwhelming fear as I force my voice not to waver, panic surging in my chest.

After a moment that feels like an eternity, Andrea releases her grip, her demand still lingering between us. "We deserve to know anything else you're hiding." she asserts, her gaze unyielding. I roll my eyes in response, a mixture of frustration and exhaustion bubbling up.

"I don't have any other secrets for you to know. Nothing that concerns you anyway," I reply dismissively, earning an irritated expression from Andrea.

My eyes inadvertently meet Lori's, her concerned gaze locked on me from beside Carol, helping the kids with their schoolwork. Lori knows that I'm hiding her secret. The truth, which is starting to wear me thin. I sigh, not being able to look at her expression anymore.

"I don't have the patience for this," I snap under my breath, pushing past Andrea's shoulder before she can stop me.

Stalking away to my tent with purpose, my heart seems unwilling to heed my attempts to calm it, its rapid rhythm a persistent reminder of the emotions that have been stirred up.

My hands are trembling as I unzip my tent and clamber clumsily inside, ripping it closed behind me. I stagger backward, breathing heavily, trying to calm myself down.

My fingers graze over the patch of skin Andrea had gripped me so tightly. I swallow hard, my heart starting to thunder more aggressively in my chest as it feels like her hand is still wrapped around me, digging into my skin, all the way to the bone.

I've made everyone mad. It's just like I was before. Walking on eggshells, constantly terrified of being punished by Him. That fear begins to creep up around my periphery, starting to suffocate me. It's like a hot blanket is abruptly thrown over me, stopping all and any oxygen from entering my system.

I can't breathe.

My fingers tingle and go numb as I find myself hyperventilating within the confines of my small tent. The panic is overwhelming, all-encompassing.

Fuck, I'm having a panic attack.

Desperation courses through me, urging me to escape from the tent, to breathe, to regain control. I lunge toward the tent's entrance, fumbling to unzip it and let myself out when everything suddenly shifts into darkness.

"Cassandra"

"You okay?"

Blinking in the bright sunlight, I glance up, disoriented and bewildered to see a dark figure at the door of my tent looking down at me. I am laying on the... ground. Great. I passed out.

I can feel the hard rocks pushing against my body beneath the thin fabric of my tent floor as I attempt to push myself up.

"Huh?" I croak groggily, squinting at the figure, his features shrouded by the blinding light. He leans forward, his features slowly coming into focus, and then the recognition hits me like a gut punch.

His chocolate eyes, the disdainful arch of his eyebrows, that cruel and condescending sneer, malice in his gaze.

Him.

My stomach drops and I instinctively recoil, clumsily scrambling backward in fear, an animalistic desperation overcoming me to get as far away from him as possible. I let out a whisper-scream of pure terror, pushing up against the other corner of the tent, my eyes wide as ice-cold fear courses through me, paralyzing me as I stare at Him, my mind racing

No no no no. This can't be happening.

He found me.

He'll kill me for leaving him. There's nothing holding him back now.

"Woah, it's okay," He reassures me, holding out his hands to try to calm me down. But it isn't his gut-wrenching and demeaning voice that comes out of his mouth, instead, it's Daryl's.

Faltering for a moment, I blink harshly, taking him in. Those chocolate eyes shift into a concerned blue squinting down at me. I blink again, his face slowly transforming into Daryl's, watching me with concern.

I let out a shuddering breath, my whole body sagging with crushing relief. I jump up, throwing my arms around Daryl's neck, hugging him to me tightly. I let out a sob of relief as I grasp his worn vest. "Thank god," I sob through my tears.

Daryl's arms envelop me in a gentle embrace, his steady presence offering a stark contrast to the chaos that had gripped me just moments ago.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice an unfamiliar gentle and questioning tone. I nod into his shoulder, feeling overwhelmingly grateful that it's him standing here in front of me.

I release Daryl from the hug, bringing a hand to wipe my tear and snot-covered face. He watches me carefully, before speaking up.

"I found you, passed out." He grunts, giving me a once-over, probably checking if I've been bit. I sniff, embarrassment flooding my senses.

"I uh- had a panic attack," I respond lamely, not being able to look him in the eyes. "My old fiancé would get um- physical with me. All the arguing today with Andrea grabbing my arm earlier gave me flashbacks. Then the panic attack happened, which usually makes me faint, and here we are," I explain, my gaze fixed on the ground, unable to meet his eyes.

A weighty silence hangs between us as Daryl absorbs my words.

"He was a piece of shit," He grunts simply his words sharp with disgust. My watery eyes flit up to see his serious expression. I snort, nodding with a wet and appreciative smile.

"Yeah. He was."

Was.