We catch up with some of the rest of our prison survivors as paths begin to cross.

Here's Blood in Your Eye

"No, no way." Beth said. Carol had gone to the girl's room early the next morning while Daryl went out on fence patrol with their host. The girl looked much better after a meal and a night's sleep in relative safety, though there were still dark circles under her eyes and a deep air of sadness in her demeanor.

"It's better if I wait here—work on Larry and Dory so when you and Daryl bring the others back they'll consider letting us all stay." Carol reasoned, but Beth shook her head vehemently no.

"I'll ask them as soon as I see them. Don't need to wait." Beth said stoutly, taking Carol's hands in her own. "We stick together, Carol..." her eyes, haunted by the grief of losing her father so suddenly and brutally, started to fill with tears and her voice faded to a whisper, "I'm not losing anyone else..."

Carol's eyes softened in empathy, knowing that Beth couldn't understand her hesitation, didn't know what the others thought she had done.

The quiet knock on the door interrupted whatever argument Carol had been going to try next.

"Girls?" Dorothy called through the door. Larry and that handsome man of yours are due back any minute and I'm starting breakfast."

"Be right out!" Carol called.

"Daryl won't let you." Beth insisted stubbornly, "You know he won't leave without you, right?"

"Come on. There are eggs." Carol said, evading answering, tugging on Beth's hands.

It was the baby's cries that made Daryl take off at a dead run as they neared the gates. A child's scream came next and then he was flying over the pavement, his bow drawn, bolt notched. A single gunshot echoed in the morning stillness and Daryl swore, knowing the sound would pull in even more walkers than had already started massing at the gates.

"Lizzie! No!" a little girl screamed from this side of the walls and the howling baby's cries reached new decibels of fear. Another shot sounded.

"I said climb girl!" a deep male voice yelled and then he grunted with each wet crunch sound of metal hitting flesh and bone as he wielded his long handled hammer.

Tyreese was still outside the gates with Lizzie, the two of them facing off against a group of about ten walkers. Mika was sitting on the ground on this side of the gates, crying, holding a screeching, dirty, bloody Judith.

"Not leaving you out here alone." Lizzie yelled back, but then screeched when the walker reaching for her fell back with a bolt between its eyes. Another fell to a silenced bullet, fired by Larry, making her wheel around in confusion.

"Keep your eyes on the walkers!" Daryl yelled at the girl, whose eyes went wide to see who was firing. He couldn't tell if she was more surprised at the naked man or recognizing the bowman as one of their own group. With a nod she turned back and kept firing with dead eye accuracy

Daryl reloaded and continued to fire alongside Larry until those geeks closest to Tyreese and the girl were down. He moved to the gate, swiftly working the combination lock.

"You got any gear, best grab it now." Daryl yelled as he swung the gate open just enough for the two to fit through. Lizzie grabbed a backpack off the ground and slipped through the opening, running to her sister. Tyreese backed in after, covering her, and Daryl clanged the gate shut as soon as he was fully inside.

"Piece of crap car broke down about two miles back," Tyreese grumbled, exhausted, and Daryl saw that a blood vessel had broken in the man's eye, staining the already slightly yellowed white with a splash of bright red, "I been carrying that little siren ever since." he pointed his hammer at Judith. Lizzie and Mika glared at him as they tried to comfort the infant.

"Shit man!" Daryl snorted and Tyreese's big rumbling chuckles in return soon dissolved into relieved laughter and he grabbed Daryl in a big enveloping hug, lifting the smaller man off the ground.

"Uh—maybe yer new friend could cover up his bits aroun' these lil'girls?" Tyreese muttered to Daryl as he released him, looking askance at Larry's state of undress.

Daryl glanced over at the old man and looked meaningfully at Larry and then at the girls, who were staring fixedly at Daryl and Tyreese, deliberately averting their eyes from the naked man.

With a long suffering sigh Larry pulled a towel from his back pack and slung it low over his hips, securing it by tucking the ends under each other and then gave Daryl a raised eyebrow look.

"Thanks, man." Daryl nodded and turned back to Tyreese, who looked a fraction more relaxed. Daryl wondered how he'd ended up caring for the three girls, knowing it would've been a bit outside his comfort zone. As far as he knew, Tyreese hadn't had any kids.

"Can't believe we found you." Tyreese said, lifting his ever present stocking cap and wiping his brow.

"Carol n' Beth are here too—we're heading out to the B site soon as we can." Daryl began, kneeling to check on lil' ass kicker, worried about all of the blood she wore, but Tyreese interrupted him.

"Damn sorry this is gonna be such a short reunion." Tyreese said sorrowfully, "But at least now I know these little ones will be safe." his voice was tinged with regret and relief.

"What?" Daryl asked, finding no wounds on the baby, looking up at Tyreese. The big man turned and lifted his torn and bloody t-shirt sleeve, revealing a bite, a whole chunk of flesh taken out of his upper arm where he'd bled onto the child he'd carried as he'd turned and sheltered Judith from the herd with his body. Daryl and Mika stood, matching expressions of sorrow on their faces.

"Carol can fix it—right Mr. Daryl?" Mika asked plaintively. Daryl just held Judith closer, rocking her and patting her back, a look of desolation marring his features.

"Don't be stupid, Mika." Lizzie said sadly, standing and coming over to the man who had protected them after the prison fell. "I'm sorry Mr. Tyreese." she looked up into his eyes. "Thank you for keeping us safe." she wrapped her arms around him, placed her pistol in his hand and backed away, going to Daryl's side and taking her sister's hand.

"How long?" Larry asked, moving quickly to the newcomer and they all looked at him. "How long ago were you bit?"

"Doesn't matter." Tyreese said wearily, "I'm done."

"If we can't save you we'll help you go quietly, son—but my woman's a doctor and we have the supplies to take off that arm." Larry pulled the braided length of paracord he wore like a bracelet off his wrist and began unwinding it to make a tourniquet. "But we need to move fast."

"It was just when we got to the gates here." Tyreese said hopefully, looking over at Daryl.

"We saw all the dead walkers and figured someone must've put them there." Lizzie added, turning her head to look at the fences in fascination. More walkers, drawn by the gunfire, milled around outside the gates, reaching through its bars, moaning and groaning when their grasp fell short of the people they could smell and hear inside.

Larry finished wrapping the tourniquet on Tyreese's beefy arm, high into his arm pit where the big artery ran.

"Need your help, Dixon." Larry asked and Daryl handed Judith off to Mika. "Give me a bolt." Larry used the strong tempered aluminum to wind in the cord and pull down tight. "Let's get him up to the house." he put his shoulder under Tyreese's arm and motioned for Daryl to do the same.

"Come on girls." Daryl ordered, knowing that both Carol and Beth would be over the moon to see Lizzie, Mika and Judith safe and alive. Hopefully they could keep Tyreese that way too.

"The chickens we originally got to eat bugs—ticks and chiggers—the eggs were just an afterthought." Dory said with a smile as she cracked open another brown egg on the side of the counter and let its content slide in to join the half dozen others already in the frying pan. Carol winced when she saw the spots of blood near the yolks.

"We had chickens. On our farm." Beth volunteered. "Had to keep 'em in a coop so the varmints didn't get them." They had been food for the walkers kept in the barn, a task that had fallen to her a few times when Patricia or Maggie was busy with other chores. Beth had hated doing it, breaking the poor bird's legs and throwing them down to be devoured. She could still hear their terrified squawks above the low moans of the remains of the people she used to love.

"Guess we're all chickens now." Dorothy murmured.

"No. Not all of us." Carol said fiercely, crossing her arms across her chest, "Some of us are hawks and eagles. We hunt the varmints."

Dorothy and Beth exchanged a glance and then looked at Carol. Dorothy saw a strong warrior, knife at her belt, gun in the holster at her thigh, fit and ready to fight to defend herself and those she cared about. Beth saw her friend, someone she admired for her strength of conviction and ability to survive whatever was thrown at her. She couldn't imagine what she and Daryl would be doing now if Carol hadn't found them, probably wandering in the woods trying to get to the rendezvous after the bike crashed if the walkers hadn't gotten to them while she'd been unconscious. She'd never spent much time alone with Daryl, but she admired him, his strength, and what it had meant for their family.

"You and Daryl," Beth said, her mouth turning down, feeling inadequate.

"You too, Beth. You're stronger than you know." Carol assured her, nudging her with her shoulder. Beth sighed and gave her a reluctant half smile.

"Dory! We got a medical emergency!" Larry's voice cut through their conversation coming in loud and clear on the compound intercom, "Come to the infirmary fast as you can and bring the women!"

"Oh my god, Daryl!" Carol said, grabbing Beth's arm fearfully. Then a recognizable wail came out of the box on the wall, the unhappy cry of the smallest Grimes.

"Judith?" Beth cried with wonder, and all three women set off at a run out of the kitchen and down the hall to the medical room.

"She's my wife." the words rang in Tara's head, over and over as she followed the young Asian guy, Glenn, down the road leaving the assholes in the military truck behind them.

When he stopped and came back towards her this morning at the prison she thought it was to kill her and she welcomed it. In the few short weeks since the one eyed man had come into her life she'd lost everyone who had ever meant anything to her. Her father, niece, sister and finally the woman she had just found to love in this shit hole of a world. She'd watched people slaughtered in front of her and thrown down her gun in horror and disgust. She didn't deserve to live. She was a piece of shit...worse; she was the maggots feasting on the shit others had made of this place.

But Glenn was a pragmatist. Whether or not she deserved to live, he'd needed her help. First to escape the gauntlet of biters summoned by the battle and then to watch his back as he looked for his Maggie ...the daughter of the old man Brian had slaughtered. She owed him, not just for saving her from the prison, but because of what her group had done to his home and his people.

"They're following us." Tara told Glenn, glancing back over her shoulder at the intimidating military man with the bizarre facial hair called Abraham, who had loaded down his pack, slung it onto his back and escorted the mulleted scientist away from the ruined truck. That guy was a total fuck up as far as she was concerned. Tara didn't for one second buy that idiot as any kind of brain trust, but he clearly had the Sarge fooled.

Of more interest was the chick called Rosita—now there was a nice tidy little piece of ass if she'd ever seen one. Her totally impractical wardrobe choice was geared to show the maximum amount of skin—hip bone low Daisy Dukes and a belly baring top? Seriously? The girl screamed walker bait. She was like some redneck's fantasy of a tough grrl in her military cap and plaid shirt tied below her breasts. It pissed Tara off to no end that her eyes kept drifting back to the hot little bitch. Huh. Maybe that's what she was for—instead of a carrot on a string, they had a pussy on one to keep the scientist motivated... she noticed the nerd Eugene staring at the woman's tits when he thought the Sarge wasn't looking.

"Don't give a shit." Glenn said with a grunt, intent on putting one foot in front of the other, "Just tell me when to make the first turn."

"Having more people will help, right?" Tara asked, "Help keep biters off of us—help find your wife—the rest of your people."

"Whatever." Glenn shrugged.

"I looked in your pack. When you were out of it." Tara admitted, trying to keep him talking. Glenn slowed and glared at her.

"What gave you the right—"

"I was looking for water. Honest— but that's not all your stuff is it?" she asked, Glenn kept a blank face and picked up his pace. "Found some old watch, crazy fuckin' poncho, biker jacket... diapers and baby food?" the last made Glenn stop."There was a baby in there?" Tara asked, fighting tears. Glenn hung his head, "Was it your baby?" she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Judith is all of our baby. She was born there. Her mother died giving birth to her there." Glenn told her, meeting her eyes. She saw defiance there, and something more...hope.

"You really believe you're gonna find them, don't you?" Tara said, marveling at his optimism.

"They're my family." Glenn said in a tone that brooked no argument and started forward again.

"Hey, Chow Mein!" the big khaki clad man called out and Glenn snarled, reminded of Merle's penchant for tossing out racial slurs as nicknames.

"What, shit for brains?" Glenn yelled back without turning around or stopping his forward progress.

The sound of heavy footfalls, now running made Tara turn back, holding up her knife defensively. Abraham help up his hands in surrender and then showed her the small Mason jar about half full of clear liquid he held in his hand.

"Just wanted to offer you a snort, seein' as you've have such a shitty day n' all." Abraham said in a jovial conciliatory tone.

"What is it?" Tara asked, walking backwards now so she could talk to the man behind her and still keep up with Glenn.

"White Lightning—moonshine—good too, smooth. Enough backwoods stills around these parts to rival how many meth labs there were." He unscrewed the lid and took a sip and smiled in appreciation.

Tara motioned for him to hand it to her and she raised it in salute.

"Here's blood in your eye!" she said and then took a big gulp, choking a bit as it burned its way down her esophagus and up her nose. Abraham smiled at her.

"The correct toast is "here's mud in your eye.'" Eugene said with sniff and an air of superiority. Rosita met Tara's eyes and rolled hers in an exaggerated display and mouthed the word "dick."

"Yeah, well, you obviously haven't been paying attention to what the fuck's been going down, Billy Ray." Glenn said dryly. Tara turned around and handed Glenn the jar, grinning ear to ear.

"Billy Ray?" Abraham guffawed, looking at the carefully tended mullet on the scientist, "Good one, Glenn."

Glenn took a swallow of the 'shine and smirked, still moving forward, still heading for the rendezvous, still heading for Maggie and the rest of his family.

AN: Crossing trails and paths unknowingly intersecting seems to be a theme on the back 8 of S4 TWD, so this time it's Abraham and crew finding the crappy house with the still where Michonne and Daryl sheltered. I kind of like Tara and wanted to make her a bit of a wild card here and love writing the return of smart ass Glenn. I think he's one of the most the most resilient characters next to Carol.

I wanted Tyreese and the girls to end up with Carol again, but this time she'd already saved Daryl and brought Beth along for the ride.

Speaking of Tyreese, I'm not sure of what the big man's fate will be…originally I had him bit on the shoulder so there would be no question as to his survival, but that reminded me too much of T-Dog, which while it would be good dramatically for Carol to have to deal with, made me too sad. Let me know what you think!