Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I don't even own Annie, she belongs to Sophie, who you can find on YouTube under xSoppySofax. Read on, darlings, and enjoy!

One: I went back over the last 2 chapters and added some things *coughmoreCharliecough* so you can go back and re-read, if you would like. I just didn't like how I had Annie hallucinating Charlie at Woodbury but then he disappeared completely at the prison so he pops up a couple times. Mostly in Ch31, where he actually talks cause 32 is just him watching her. Two: I meant to upload this yesterday but things were just too hectic, so here's a belated Christmas present for y'all! Happy holidays!

This chapter takes place during 3x12 "Clear"

Chapter 33

The following morning, Annie woke up before anybody else. She snuck along the second floor of cells until she found Glenn and Maggie's. As quietly as possible, she began to look around. Nothing at the tiny toilet and sink, that would've made things too easy. With a resigned sigh, she knelt down and started to root through their things. The pack had been first and had nothing, probably Glenn's so it wasn't surprising, so she moved onto other pack and hoped like hell it was Maggie's. It took a minute but she eventually found what she needed and she gripped the object tightly, relieved. Glancing at the sleeping couple, Annie carefully put everything bad to how she found it and crept out of the cell. Wandering down the stairs, she quietly made her way to the showers. She needed privacy and she sure as hell wasn't going to get it in the cellblock, not when someone could wake up and walk past at any moment.

After peeing on the required area of the pregnancy test, Annie found herself at a loss as what to do. She waited and waited, pacing and pulling at her hair, rubbing her arms and wringing her hands. She was going absolutely mad. She knew she had to wait three minutes – after all, this wasn't her first time taking a pregnancy test – but she didn't have a watch or phone to time it. These three minutes, she guessed, would be the longest three in her life. So, with nothing else to do, she tortured herself with her thoughts. What would she do, if she was pregnant? It wasn't as though she could go get an abortion. Trying to facilitate one would probably get her killed but, then again, Lori hadn't survived Judith's birth so having the baby was just as deadly. But having the baby wasn't an option. It just wasn't. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she had it. Jesus Christ, she wasn't even sure if she was pregnant or not! Annie checked the test again and saw nothing. It sure felt like it'd been three minutes already. She paced again. Pulled her hair. Made fists and cracked her knuckles. Rubbed her arms and shook her head. She did this over and over, trying not to think about a future where she was pregnant.

"What if you are though?" Charlie wondered. Annie continued her routine, trying to ignore him. "You'll have to tell them what happened."

She'd have to tell them she'd been raped, over and over again. They already gave her some pitying looks but, if they knew, she knew it would only be worse. If she was pregnant, she'd have to figure out what to do and quickly. Carrying your rapists' baby was a situation no woman should be forced to live with but it was a reality that she had to consider. There was no question in Annie's mind that this baby would not happen. It couldn't and it wouldn't. She would not carry that sick bastard's baby and she would not be a mother to it. She'd always believed that what a woman did with her body was her own damn business and she still believed that. Heaven help anyone tried to stop her for terminating this pregnancy.

"Okay, calm down," her dearly departed friend soothed.

"You don't get to disappear for days only to just show up and tell me to be calm!" Annie snapped furiously. How dare he!

"I'm here when you need me. Unless you want me whispering in your ear the next time you have a heartfelt moment with Carl?" he reminded her sarcastically. Annie bit her lip and shook her head, turning her back on him to continue her pacing. Carl seeing her "talk" to Charlie was the last thing she wanted. "Didn't think so. Now, calm down," he repeated, "and think logically about this. If you are pregnant and you're determined to get rid of it—"

Annie forcefully interjected, "I am. I won't have it."

"Okay." Charlie nodded, his voice calm and soothing, completely nonjudgmental. "So how'll you do it?" That was the question that had been gnawing away at the back of her mind. There'd never been a doubt that she wouldn't keep a baby that belonged to that monster, but the how of getting rid of it plagued her. "Think this through. Best ways to induce an abortion are, what? Alcohol?" The pair simultaneously shook their heads. "None of that here. Next option: overdose?" The hallucination of her dead ex-junkie friend suggesting an overdose made her huff out a small laugh.

"Merle was the hardcore drug user but he obviously came here empty handed," she surmised since the Dixon boys arrived with just their weapons and Daryl's personal pack, "and any pills we have are a limited commodity. They have to be conserved, for real emergencies."

"This is a real emergency!" Charlie reminded her. Annie bit at the skin on her thumb, nodding absentmindedly. "And I know you aren't desperate enough to find a wire hanger so…trip yourself down the stairs maybe?" She immediately shook her head and Charlie made a comment about how that'd probably just ruin her ribs and wrist, which were already healing nicely. No sense in making them worse just as they were getting better. Annie suddenly remembered seeing a movie where a girl had someone punch her repeatedly in the stomach in order to terminate a pregnancy. Or maybe it was an episode of Law & Order? Either way, that settled it: she'd have to ask for help then. "Not exactly ideal," he drawled. "Who to go to though? Hershel?"

"No, definitely not." He was a religious man and bound to have very specific beliefs on a woman's pregnancy.

"That means Maggie and Beth are out of the question, too then. What about the guys?" Annie gave him a pointed look. "Right. No men. Duly noted." The men would absolutely off limits for help, no question about that. This was a horrifying enough situation to be in without adding an unwanted male perspective to it. "But who does that leave you with? Michonne? Carol?" Would either one of them be willing to help? Could she even ask them? She didn't know Michonne at all but Annie didn't think Carol would be so supportive, considering she'd been a mother. "Are you sure you can't go to Maggie?" Charlie questioned as her doubt swelled. "I mean, she was there. She might be willing to bend whatever personal rules she has given that fact."

Slowly, she nodded and whispered, "Maybe you're right."

"Hey." She looked at Charlie, who nodded to the test. "I think it's done."

Christ, this was it. Charlie smiled at her; a sad, sympathetic smile but a smile nonetheless. He even nodded and gave her a thumbs up, silently assuring her that she could do this. Even if she couldn't, she had to. She didn't have any other choice. Annie cautiously wandered back over to the pregnancy test and, with a deep shuddering breath, picked it up. Air left her lungs in a painful gasp. The test dropped and clattered back onto the metal table while her crumbling resolve had her collapsing to her knees. She sat there, on the cold tile, with her face buried in her hands to muffle her sobbing. Annie rocked back and forth, sobbing and screaming into her hands as Charlie rubbed her back and whispered in her ear.

"Its okay, Annie. Its okay…"

Annie quickly made her way downstairs and outside. Carol had called out and told her she had to stay inside, but Annie just ignored her. Carol wasn't the boss of her and Annie needed to be alone; she needed to collect and gather her thoughts after...well, just after. She walked around the courtyard and sat on the steel benches. It had been yet another rough night. The dreams just wouldn't go away. It seemed like, every time she closed her eyes, she'd find herself back in that room in Woodbury. She'd wake up in a cold sweat and try to go back to sleeping, hoping like hell he wouldn't appear again. But he did. He always did. Eventually, she just gave up trying to sleep and laid on the prison cot, listening to the silence. She'd have to find something to knock her out soon if she didn't get more than a handful of hours. Letting out a deep sigh, Annie tilted her head back and let the warm sun wash over her. Despite a decent sleep eluding her, she'd also had trouble with Rick. Every time she looked up, Rick was somewhere close by. Most of the time, it seemed like he was watching her. She'd catch him start to walk over to her but the second he got close, she'd run and hide, ducking into dark corners. For Rick's part, he respected that she wanted to be left alone, despite how much it hurt him.

"Get ready to go." Speak of the devil. Annie glanced over her shoulder and found Rick standing a few feet away. Her avoiding him like the plague had, in turn, gotten him in the habit of keeping his distance from her. "We're going on a run. You, me, Carl and Michonne."

Annie shook her head. "I'm good here."

"It's not optional. Get ready."

Rick walked away before she could form a rebuttal. She turned around and watched him leave, a little stunned. At a loss of what else to do, Annie meandered back to her cell and grabbed what she'd need. She didn't want to go, didn't want to be confined in a space with Rick and a stranger. Carl was different though. She'd scared him – it didn't matter if he said she hadn't, she knows she scared him – but he'd forgiven her and they'd started to rebuild their friendship. Other than Glenn, he was the only one that had managed to get close to her. No one had approached Annie about her time in Woodbury or the Governor. Either they were giving her the space she desperately wanted, or they drew their own conclusions and just left her be. The way she figured it, if anyone knew the real details of what had happened, than they'd eventually know everything she'd confessed to Michonne. Then what would happen? Would they continue to avoid her, treat her with kid gloves, or would they be so horrified by her thirst for blood that they'd make her leave? The thought of being alone beyond the prison sent a shiver of both fear and exhilaration through her. Fear, because she didn't want to leave after having found everyone again. Especially Carl; she couldn't leave him, not after promising him she wouldn't. That didn't stop the exhilaration though; if she was alone, she'd be free to go after the Governor and not worry about those she loved judging her afterwards. But no one seemed to suspect anything so the stranger was at least keeping her mouth shut. Thank goodness for small favors, she supposed.

About twenty minutes later, the group of four was packed into a car. Michonne drove with Rick in the front passenger side while Annie sat in the back with Carl. They'd been driving for a while and not a single word had been spoken. To say it was awkward was an understatement. Carl had sat beside her with a smile that Annie, try as she might, just couldn't return. She was tired, exhausted, and utterly listless. All she wanted was to crawl to a hole and be left alone. Why couldn't Rick just leave her alone? Didn't he see how much it hurt being around him? Head resting against the window, she saw someone had put up a sign by the side of the road. She remembered seeing a lot of that back when she'd been alone, before she'd met Charlie. She heard someone shouting and briefly looked out the front windshield, spotting the man with the horrendously bright orange pack trying to flag them down. Annie looked away and rested her head back on the window. She didn't care about that stranger. He wasn't her problem and he definitely wasn't hers to save.

Michonne pulled off the road, due to a car crash barring their path, and tried to go around. On Annie's side was an overturned car, a walker half crushed underneath it. Annie stared at it, arms flailing and reaching out to them, while Michonne tried to get the car out of the mud. The car shook from her revving and effort, but it wouldn't budge. A walker slammed against Michonne's window, followed by others on Rick's side, then Carl's and one finally started snarling at her own. It was girl; on her wrist was a beaded bracelet that read 'Erin'. Rick told them to cover their ears as he slightly rolled down the window. Knowing he was going to start shooting, Annie plugged a finger in the ear closest to him with a resigned sigh. Once all the walkers were dead, the other three got out and started looting the nearby cars. What they were hoping for, Annie couldn't begin to guess but she just stayed where she was and waited for them to fix the car. Once they had traction, they could get back on the road and get the day over with.

"Hey! Help me! I'm begging you, don't leave!" It was the same lone hitchhiker from before, shouting up the road to them. He was an idiot, Annie surmised. Shouting like that was only going to draw walkers to him. Rick knocked on the side of the car and Michonne tried again. Whatever he and Carl had done worked; the car was out of the mud and they were all back on the road a second later.

"You okay?" Rick questioned. It took Annie a moment to realize he'd been speaking to her.

"Fine," she answered tonelessly. Rick looked like he wanted to say something else, but bit his tongue. Annie wasn't even looking at him. She was still in a daze, staring out at the woods as they sped past.

"We almost there?" Carl asked, forcing his father's attention off Annie. It was clear to him that she didn't want to be bothered. He didn't understand her distance, but he'd seen the way she'd been around his father and didn't want him scaring her off. Not when he'd just gotten her back.

"Almost." When his son asked where they were going, Rick just smiled and told him, "You'll see."

King County, former hometown of the Grimes'. Annie hadn't realized that's where they'd been until they were walking past a series of buildings. One of them read, "King County Medical Office". The group walked through the town, giving curious glances to spray painted arrows on the walls before they made it to the police station. They entered cautiously, weapons at the ready but the entire place was silent. They checked it over and found nothing, not a single solitary walker. It was bizarre but not an unwelcome surprise. As they made their way to the weapons cage, Annie could hardly believe she was there. It had been so long. A year. Rick had led her there with Morgan and Duane. They'd had their first shower in months, and took a bunch of guns in duffel bags. Annie went to Atlanta with Rick, and she never heard from Morgan or Duane again despite hers and Rick's vigilance with the walkie talkie. It was surreal, being back in King County.

"Got any other police stations in town?"

"I was the police here. Me and a few other guys. It ain't a big town." Rick ran a hand through his hair in mild irritation as he realized this run was going to get a lot harder. Sighing, he told them, "There's other places to check. We…may not have as many guns as were in here—"

"We need as many guns as were in here," Michonne stated. "Ammo, too."

"There wasn't much here to begin with," Annie interjected, leaning against a wall outside the cage.

"There was enough," Rick retorted, glaring at her a bit. Annie just shrugged at look down the hall, waiting for them to leave. "Right now, I only got a line on a couple. There's a few places on our main street." Rick explained that the local bars and liquor stores had guns behind the counters, something the regular people wouldn't know about. Only reason he did was because he'd been the one to sign the permits for the owners. "They might still be there." Michonne let out a quiet sigh and, coldly, he asked her, "Do you have a problem with that approach?"

"No, Rick, I don't have a problem," Michonne answered neutrally, but her tone suggested otherwise. Instead of voicing her opinion, she handed him the only bullet found on the floor and left. Michonne didn't want to start trouble, didn't want to make waves. Just cooperate and maybe get a permanent residence. Rick examined it a moment before putting the bullet in his shirt pocket; it was the correct caliber for his Colt.

"And you?" Annie looked up to see Rick staring at her from his place in the cage.

"Me, what?"

"Do you have a problem?" he asked, his annoyance painfully clear. In return, she just stared blankly at him and shrugged. "Damn it, Annie. What the hell's wrong with you?" he hissed under his breath. Annie instantly tensed.

"Dad," Carl warned lowly, looking between the adults.

"I'm fine," she answered shortly. She'd said it so many times that she almost believed it.

"No. No, you're not. You're not here." Rick wasn't wrong. Annie knew that. She wasn't exactly in the mental state to be on a run or even care about it. But hearing him say that, hearing him ask what was wrong with her, it triggered something inside her.

Glaring, she testily remarked, "Then maybe you should've left me at the prison. Like I wanted." With that, Annie wandered down the hall after Michonne.

Back on the path to the main street, Rick led them towards the first place they'd try. Carl stuck close to his father but Michonne was a good three or four feet behind them. Annie trailed even further behind her, prompting the other woman to look back at her on occasion. When the others stopped at an opening, Annie peered in and saw the charred pile of remains. There were at least a dozen corpses. Whether they'd been walkers or regular people, they'd never know but it didn't look recent so that was somewhat comforting. As they started walking again, she took in their surroundings. Annie noticed that the arrows had become full-on messages on the various brick buildings. On her left, she read AWAY WITH YOU in what she hoped was red spray paint but easily could've been blood. On the ground was a series of bright neon green arrows every couple of feet. Where they led, she had no idea and it probably didn't matter. Whoever had done it was probably long gone. Approaching the main street, Annie noticed Michonne reading for her sword. Once she turned the corner, she saw exactly why the other woman was nervous. The town hadn't look like this when she'd left.

"What is it?" Michonne questioned nervously.

"I don't know," Rick replied, pulling out his gun from its holster.

Annie looked around and saw another message painted on the wall behind her. NO GUILT YOU KNOW THAT. What the hell did that mean? Appropriately scared, Annie slid the knife from her thigh holster. Cautiously, the group approached the booby-trapped town square. A clear plastic sheet flapped in the wind, proclaiming JUST LISTEN. Listen to what, Annie wondered ominously. Wooden pallets lined the curbs on either side of the street with some poles set out as spikes in what looked like trashcans. As they walked towards the traps, Annie saw TURN AROUND AND LIVE painted in orange on the crosswalk. In the middle, along with a series of cars, where one had a bunch of hand made wooden spikes sticking out of the truck, they carefully made their way by the other traps. Ropes hanging above their heads and attached to suspended buckets that were stabbed with spikes, a couple of cages with either pigeons and rats inside, skateboards tied together and covered in dried blood, wooden doors jammed with spikes. Even the cars had writing scratched into them. The most common word she saw was CLEAR. Towards the end of the street there was a tower, looked to be handmade, and also had spikes sticking out of it but also a series of ropes. Annie followed a few with her eyes and saw they went to different rooftops. Perhaps it was pulley system?

"It looks like someone's already made this theirs," Michonne pointed out.

"Doesn't mean they found what we're looking for," Rick retorted, leading them further into the maze. "A couple of the places are just up ahead. Let's get in and get the hell out of here." As they ducked under a line of barbed wire, Rick pointed to a building just ahead of them and said there was a shotgun and two handguns issued to the owner there when a familiar hissing of a walker came from behind them. The walker stumbled towards them and Michonne moved to kill it, but Rick stopped her. "Wait. She'll get caught." Rick had been right. The walker walked straight into the barbed wire and got caught. A gunshot rang out and the walkers fell to the ground, brains spattering the road.

"Hands!" the man ordered, aiming his rifle at them. Rick and Carl immediately put their guns up, but Michonne and Annie weren't so quick to surrender. They looked up at the roof at their attacker. He was an average sized man, but he was wearing a helmet, a mask and goggles. "Now you drop what you got and you go! Your guns, your shoes, that knife and that sword! All of it! Ten seconds!"

"Run for the car, now," Rick told his son.

"TEN!"

"Dad!"

"We need that rifle," Michonne hissed.

"NINE! EIGHT!"

"I think I can get up there," Annie said.

"SEVEN! SIX!"

"Carl, go!"

After the gunfight, which ended when Carl surprised their attacker and shot him without hesitation, fired at the stranger. He hadn't killed him, given that he'd been wearing body armor. Discovering that their attacker had been Morgan had been a shock. Michonne and Carl had wanted to leave Morgan unconscious in the sidewalk, but both Annie and Rick refused. Carl vaguely remembered his father mentioning a man named Morgan who'd helped in the early days, but Michonne had needed the quick explanation. Morgan wasn't just some random stranger; he was a friend. He'd not only saved Annie's life at the start of everything, taken her in and trusted her with his family's life, but had saved Rick as well. He'd told him everything that had happened while he'd been in a coma, and taught him out to survive in the world with the way it had become.

Morgan had saved both of them. There was no way they were just going to leave him out in the street. A street, Annie noted, that had a few ladders that were color coded to match the arrows painted on the ground. Probably escape routes. So while Rick and Michonne tried to find a safe way inside what they guessed what Morgan's home – given how much outside protection was set up around it – Annie stayed behind to watch over Morgan. She'd tried to tell Carl to put his gun down, but he refused. She couldn't blame him really. After all, Morgan had held them up, tried to rob them and threatened to kill them. But that wasn't the Morgan she'd known. And where was Duane? Was he out scouting? Or was he laying in wait inside one of the buildings? Would he fire on them as well? Carl had changed so much since she'd last seen him, who was to say Duane hadn't changed as well. Rick and Michonne came back and picked up Morgan, carrying him inside. As they went, they warned both Carl and Annie of the various booby traps that had been set up. The welcome mat, Annie had to admit, was pretty genius. The trip wire with the ax at the top of the steps, however, scared her. It had been covered in blood, undoubtedly human blood.

They wandered into Morgan's domain and paused as the sight before them. Not only were the walls covered in frantic writing, but also there was food and arsenal of weapons. While Rick and Michonne carried Morgan to his cot, Annie looked at the stockpile and took a quick cursory count. Twenty-six assault rifles, twenty-two hunting rifles, one sniper rifle – it looked like the same one Rick had gifted him a year ago – ten shotguns, ten semi-automatic handguns, one crossbow, four hunting long bows, and a whole case of maybe fifty or so grenades. Annie wasn't sure she wanted to know where he'd gotten his hands on those. Once Morgan was settled on the cot, Michonne and Carl began the task of filling up two bags with weapons and ammo. Annie's attention, however, had wandered to the walls. She was too stunned to do anything but read the various messages scribbled in chalk all over the room.

CLEAR
WE PUT UPON DETENTION
ELOISE TURNED
ZACK TURNED
FIREFIGHT ON ABERDEEN
HARDCORE
RILEY SHOAL
ABBEY TURNED
JENNY TURNED
DON'T LIE
CLEAR

YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS
CLEAR
YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS
IBBEN
YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS
YOU ONLY GET TEN
THE ARROW WOUND NOT HAPPEN / LIVED
THE KNIFE WOUND
THE SHRAPNEL SICK AFTER
BLOOD COVER

THE BAD MEAT
THE ANKLE TWIST
RISK
IBBEN
CLEAR
THE DOOR KNOB YOU HAD THE KNIFE
THE CELLAR YOU HAD THE GUN
CLEAR
WE WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE
NO KIA'S ON BEF!
IBBEN HIGHER GROUND
IT DOESN'T MATTER

HOW MANY DAYS OR HOW MUCH TIME?
SIXTEEN HOURS IN
EVERY
NINETEEN ON THE FLOOR
ONE
CLEAR
TURNS

Over and over again, that word 'clear' just popped up. None of it made any sense. Well, not to Annie but maybe it made sense to Morgan. It seemed to her that he was the one writing it. It also seemed that he was the only one living in that particular room, given there was only one cot. So where was Duane sleeping? Annie looked around and saw Rick holding a walkie talkie – the walkie talkie – to his forehead in despair. Annie suddenly remember that the matching walkie, the one she used every day after she left the group until the battery died, was lost in Woodbury with the rest of her belongings. Rick stood up and Annie's gaze followed him until she realized what he was staring at. In the middle of the wall, amidst the mad scribbles, in bright bold writing were two words: DUANE TURNED. Annie stumbled to stand next to Rick and read them over and over again. She felt her heart drop to her stomach and her eyes burned. Duane was dead.

"No," Annie gasped in despair, a hand covering her mouth. Rick reached up to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but then let it drop to his side. This was the nearest she'd been to him since she'd held that knife to his throat. But he'd seen her tense the moment he'd reached out for her. It was so slight a movement that only someone looking for it would notice. But he noticed. She was like a wounded animal, skittish and ready to run.

Rick made the other two cease their scavenging and told them, "We're gonna wait for him to wake up. Make sure he's okay."

"He tried to kill us," Michonne reminded him.

"He told us to go. He didn't know who we were," he reasoned. Michonne argued that Morgan had tried to kill them and they didn't leave him for the walkers, so he'd had a good day. She also pointed out that he didn't need even half the guns he'd hoarded while they did. "We're waiting for him to wake up, that's it."

"Have you taken a look around this place? The ax? The spike? The walls?"

"What, you think he's crazy?" Annie snapped defensively.

"No. I think he's dangerous," she answered. Michonne was hyper practical because she instinctively knew that if she hadn't met Andrea, with enough isolation and trauma, she very well could have been exactly like Morgan.

"We know him," Rick stated.

"He wasn't like this then," Michone pointed out objectively.

"We're gonna wait for him to wake up." Rick picked up some plastic zip-ties from a box on the ground and proceeded to tie Morgan's wrists. Seeing that there was no point in arguing the matter, both Carl and Michonne stopped packing the bags. Carl wandered into the next room while Michonne sat down on some boxes, happily taking a packet of crackers for herself. Annie stood staring at the wall unable, or perhaps unwilling, to move. Her mind drifted back to the last time she saw him, outside the police station a year ago and a put of regret swallowed Annie whole. Maybe, if she hadn't left with Rick, Duane would still be alive. Maybe Morgan wouldn't be…whatever he was. Maybe so many other things would've happened differently.

"You protect your old man now, you hear? Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly. "Will we see you again?"

Sighing, she pulled him into a hug. "I don't know."

"I'm gonna miss you, Annie."

"I'm gonna miss you, too, Duane. You stay safe, okay? Stay sharp."

"Okay."

A/N: Sadly, the website wouldn't keep the formatting I'd written for Morgan's messages but everything I wrote was taken directly from the episode so just do what I did to see them - pause the episode every couple of second to read them lol